Mind of Mookie

Disappointing Finish To A Great Season

2012-01-23T14:12:00.000-08:00

After a great season for the San Francisco 49ers, it all came down to yesterday's NFC Championship game versus the New York Giants. It'd been almost a decade since the 49ers last saw the playoffs. Last week's exciting see-saw game against the New Orleans Saints, culminating in a last second victory, hopes for this week's game were high.

San Francisco played their usual game: A tough defense complimenting the offense that's done just enough to win games. With the number one run defense in the NFL and a spotty but effective pass defense, most people new this would be a relatively low scoring affair. The offense played it's usual game of a few flashes of brilliance in the big pass plays between Alex Smith and Vernon Davis. The rest was a grind it out offense, using Frank Gore and Kendall Hunter pounding away at the Giants' defense to keep them honest and help open up the passing game.

The Giants also posed a pretty good defensive front, that made relatively few mistakes. And of course their offense was led by Eli Manning and his trio of receivers that tend to step up when called upon. Eli of course possesses the good instincts of a great quarterback, which of course tends to be one of the big reasons the fans of any other team hate him for getting out of a bind, always in the nick of time. That's not to say that he wasn't harassed..a LOT by a bruising 49er rush, but he tended to step out of the way of danger and get the ball where it needed to go to keep the offense going. He had a lot of help from Victor Cruz, who seems to have an invisibility cloak to get that wide open short, medium and deep ranges, over and over and over. Yes the guys really freaking good, but it's not like the 49ers subbed in a pee-wee defensive backfield for the enitre game. How do they not cover him up and make plays on the ball at least 1 out of 4 times, rather than let him get open and catch the ball 5 out of 4 times. Ridiculous!

The difference was made in the realm of turnovers and special teams. Usually the 49ers are known for creating turnovers...last night was an exception. One interception was nullified by a penalty, 2 other would-be-picks were broken up, not by the Giants receivers, but by 49ers safety Dashon Goldson. The first was when he collided and almost knocked out Tarrell Brown while they simultaneously converged on one of Manning's passes. Later on, Carlos Rogers nearly had a pick before being hit by Goldson. Other than stopping the Giants on 4th and short, the 49ers created zero turnovers. And on special teams, lacking Ted Ginn, Jr., a young Kyle Williams was tasked with punt return duties.

As a faithful 49ers fan all my life, I too wanted the young man cut fromt he team, and have his hands and face stomped on. My statements were made out of frustration, but never turned into real credible threats, much less more public ones I've heard have been swirling about. The kid is young, inexperienced, and will learn. On one punt, after the ball bounced erratically, Williams made the mistake of getting in the vicinity of the ball, which hit his knee and was recovered by the Giants at 49er 30 yard line, making short work for Eli Manning to throw his 2nd touchdown pass to put the Giants up 17-14. Yes, many of us football maniacs know that if you let the ball start bouncing around you stay the hell away from the ball. If you aren't going to catch it, you run AWAY from the ball. Let the other team down it, and let your offense worry about moving the ball after that. Had he done so, the next score may have made it 17 or even 21 to 10 in facvor of the 49ers. But a rookie mistake gave a seasoned offensive veteran like Manning what he needed to change the momentum of the game.

We came back and tied the game, forcing overtime to ensue. After stopping the Giants cold for another punt and an opportunity to drive down the field for the winning score, Williams again tried to do too much, and failed to protect the ball. He fumbled on a pretty standard tackle attempt. Coaches all our lives have drilled into us, do NOT hold the ball like a loaf of bread. Protect the points, and in traffic use BOTH hands to hold on. He failed in this, lost the ball, and it was recovered again by the Giants, who went a very short distance before Lawrence Tynes kicked a very easy chip shot of a field goal to win the game.

Yes, it basically came down to the two punt return snafus by Williams, resulting in 10 points for New York, that brought the game into reach, and then ultimately decided the outcome of the game. If you need me, I'll be in mourning until next season. We had a good run this season. It wasn't always as flashy as the days of Joe Montana and Jerry Rice, but it was still good to see a consistent season. Hopefully it's the beginning of a new non-losing era for my beloved 49ers.

The Way Things Should Be

2012-01-21T11:54:00.000-08:00

Do I really need to add to this?

Life's Little Things

2012-01-13T21:40:00.000-08:00

So, I've been contemplating some posts for some time now. Just NOW, I mean literally right now, I am glad I waited on one topic...only because up until right now, I was going to be wrong after discovering what I discovered. (Wow, I've exceeded my own personal standard of vaguery!)

Growing up, a lot of things can amaze you, intrigue you, and elicit all kinds of thoughts and feelings. As we get older and begin to "know everything" we are less surprised or amazed by anything. Maybe we're just too smart, too jaded, or just too cool to let anything really grab us anymore.

One instance...clovers. most of them are your average run of the mill 3 leafers, but if you look real hard, you can find the occasional 4 leaf clover. That old lucky charm, that when you find your first one, it's just soooo great, and you gotta show it off to whoever about how awesome it was that you found one. Pretty dorky right? Probably, but back then, who cares about dorky. You just found a lucky 4 leaf friggin clover!!!

On a certain parallel, take Life Cereal. Growing up, every box we ever got had AT LEAST 1 double piece. Instead of your average little squares of cereal, you got a rare 2 connected together, almost like a domino of sorts. Maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but I swear you could find one in EVERY box we had, and to me, this was just really friggin cool. As good as any four leaf clover in my estimation.

Fast forward some years. Every now and then I buy a box of Life...for myself...cuz I'm Mike, and I'll eat anything...so says the commercial anyways. For the past few years, I have failed to see my double piece of Life. In fact, I don't know if it was just some over reaction to the loss of some childhood nostalgia, me getting pissed about the condition of today's roads that cause the fully packed trucks to bounce and settle the crap out of my cereal and robbing me of that double piece, or what was going on. But yes, I feel so strongly about it, I was going to blog about it at some point.

And then tonight happened. I bought a box of Life yesterday, I opened it up, just prior to logging into here to write about this double piece-less travesty. I poured the cereal into my bowl, and suddenly I had to stop. My eye had caught something unusual. I sifted through the laready poured cereal until I found the anomaly. And there it was: A DOUBLE PIECE OF LIFE CEREAL!!!!!!

And yes, I am dorky enough to be highly excited about that, and just had to not only share my dorky moment, but shine a big bright spotlight on that dorkiness. And that's a big spotlight, given my roughly 875000000 regular readers. Okay, maybe there aren't that many people reading it, but if you slap the entire world's population together in one spot, and you can find one of my readers in that field, well...it's just as exciting as finding the double piece of Life or that four leaf clover...

General Mook, Overlord Award Winner

2011-12-05T12:42:00.001-08:00

So today I see that my influence in this world has not gone unnoticed. Selena from herMotherhood Sucks blog, and it is a very infamous set of articles followed all over the place by smart people, as well as us leaders who strain to grasp the insanity of those we lead, has now officially awarded me the much coveted Overlord Award.

This award allows me to change ANY 3 things I want to, IN THE ENTIRE WORLD. It appears my need to rule the Universe is still being debated, and I'm sure we'll end up having to divvy up the sectors sooner or later once real life catches up with all that Star Trekky and Star Wars business. After much careful consideration, I have settled upon the following things (note to readers, I tried hard to narrow down my vast needs to three things):

1. Football season will be year round, and Nascar will be dropped to a total of 10 weeks a year. Sorry to all my redneck racecar loving friends, but you can race anyday you want out on the streets and bet your own damn money to the winners. Football is still clearly, in my not so humble opinion (the only opinion of which matters to me anyways), the king of all sports.

2. Above the waist nudity will be allowed worldwide. However the permit to do so must be cleared directly through me. In some cases, I will require it for some women. Like Cindy Crawford (my all time love), and certain other women who I deem it to be so. For others it will be deemed that they never participate in this for the entirety of their lives... There will be harsh sanctions for violators! (Hey, I'm a 32 year old guy hiding an adolescent soul...did you expect me to gloss over this aspect of life)

3. Bitching and whining to me verbally, as well as outright temper tantrums that are used to stifle the bitching and whining, will be ceasing about 3 seconds before they start. Failure to do so will result in your entire wealth being transferred to me, as well as copious sessions of waterboarding...by my cat, the esteemed Colonel Beauregard Sterling Lovell. He's gotten plenty of baths, and he's looking to dish out some retribution

I have other rules as well, but apparently this award only entitles me to 3 official changes. The rest will be carried out, Geneva Convention be damned! I could've gone with more worldly ideas to solve today's political issues, but gthat would seem so selfless....and by God, I havent been selfish enough in my benevolent leadership up to this point.

Also apparently I have to nominate other people (bloggers) for this auspicious award. Those that I would nominate generally dont condone being put on the spot like this. Personally I think Selena just got tired of me not writing and thrust this award upon me, all the way from upstate New York just to make me show SOME direction with my life and give her new reading material... I believe she finds her Overlord status a little higher than mine... women! sheesh!

I'm An Uncle Again

2011-11-06T08:18:00.000-08:00

This is my new niece, Elliana.

It's weird, I talk about how how long a day can be, but how fast the month and years can go by. Of course, I'm sure my sister has thought the last few months went by excruciatingly slow. As a guy, when pregnancy hits, we keep thinking we need it to keep going for awhile. First we want to make sure the bun in the oven is baked long enough to come out just right. Secondly we want to hold off on the expenses of new babies as long as possible. However, the women want to get it over with, and get that rib-jarring, bladder-pressing baby out into the world so they can get on with life and motherhood.

I guess the doctor wanted that baby out quicker than she was ready to come out into the world. I suppose he wanted to make sure he got credit and paid for the baby before squeezing in some time at the golf course while on vacation. As for me, it seems like just yesterday that her first little girl had just come into the world, and now here she is with little girl number 2. The first one, Sophie, looks like a miniature clone of my sister. There is really no difference between the two except for size and age. I'm sure my brother-in-law's parents are hoping Elliana gets some of her looks from their side of the family. Hard to tell at this point, since all babies come out red/pinkish. And of course, our family seems to have pretty strong genes to be overcome.

Hopefully they will come up to Iowa to visit next summer or the following Christmas, so I can meet my new niece... and of course get to hang out with my brother-in-law. I think Becky keeps him down there in Florida just to keep us from getting together, since he and I are like peas in a pod. That and now that Sophie is old enough to understand things, there is always risk of me telling her how Becky got away with everything at that age. She needs to have stories to throw back in her mother's face whenever being chastised for the same kinds of things.

Luckily, being an angelic child like I was, Becky can't do that to me with my boys. They already know what a well behaved and good little boy I was growing up. And if they ever get the idea to question that line of thinking, they can just ask me and I'll set them straight.

Anyways, congrats to my sister and her husband. They only had to have another baby to get Mom and Dad to go down and visit them!

State of the Cat Address

2011-11-06T08:08:00.000-08:00

From the Desk of Colonel Beauregard Sterling Lovell

The State of the Cat is improving in this last week. After escaping a harrowing session of torture, things are beginning to return to as normal as they can be.

Two weeks ago, I was trapped into a a portable cell, and transported to a man they call "Doc". Some call him a vet, others call him other things. Without a doubt he is a veteran in the underworld of the dark practices of torture. I remember being let free from my cell only to be stuck with needles. When I came too, and after what was most likely an intense session of questioning and further torture, I found my fingernails yanked from their rightful place. They had attempted to extract more information from me while keeping me heavily drugged.

However, being a Cat and an Officer, I have a much sharper mind, and while withholding any sensitive information, Planned my daring escape. They tried to thwart me with newspaper in my latrine instead of my usual sandbox that I have become accustomed to. It took a little while to get my legs back, having been so heavily doped up on their drugs, however began to get my balance back. I convinced a weaker minded human being to replace the sand in my latrine, and feed me heartily while I nursed backed to health. We have seen a return to increased fecal output, however our ability to invade the upper deck has been nullified without use of my climbing paws. Keeping the small child that runs around the Mookified Compound in line has proven an upward battle. I intend to use a nighttime attack to put him back in his place in the pecking order around here.

I still suffer tenderness and some soreness in my left front paw, for which revenge will be exacted at a later time. I will be holding full investigations on this Rendition program, the methods of torture/enhanced interrogation that have been employed on me personally, and other such matters... hopefully I can get them televised to the public through C-Span 9. I believe the greater public awareness will help bring "Doc" to justice on the international level. In the meantime, I prepare to bring the General down for his part in this dastardly plot. I have taken over his chair, antagonize him during his "meetings on the throne", and prepare to stalk his sleeping quarters to allow for him to suffer from sleep deprivation and greater levels of paranoia. Then maybe I'll rip out his fingernails...

Signed,
Col. B.S. Lovell
Feline Combat Div., Commanding

Writer's Block

2011-10-14T09:48:00.000-07:00

Writer's Block... The manifestation of creative constipation.

Constipation in its regular form can be a really painful thing to deal with. I've been through it a few times, but with the help of a product by FLEET, it can go away, often hitting you at the worst possible time in the fully opposite direction before you get to feeling normal again. I once had an issue with partial blockage, so that I did get to go #2, but wasn't getting rid of all of it. I eventually succumbed to visiting an emergency room, getting xrays and blood/urine tests to figure out what was wrong with me. When the nurse showed up with a box of Fleet enema stuff, I felt a sense of embarassment and stupidity. Instead of spending $1100 on quality American healthcare in a small town, I could've gone to the store and spent about $15 getting my own box of Fleet and a box of raisin bran to complete the homemade detoxification.

As a guy who enjoys writing, and enjoys being able to have a creative outlet, when I get this mental constipation going on, its almost worse because it isn't physical pain, but more like a feeling of depressive soul sucking depriving me of my outlet to vent whatever life incident I find humorous enough to share, or merely pandering my own ego and pushing my own brand of weirdness onto you readers.

Whether it's something the kids said or did that I found intriguing or downright hilarious, or the cat's antics for that matter, or merely some random gripe or observation about life, I like to put it out there with a little bit of the Mookified perspective. For the last couple weeks, I get some hint of inspiration to write about whatever may have happened that day, almost daily and usually at the most inconvenient times, and by the time I get in front of the computer.... it's gone. The anecdote or full blown story might be great, but I can't seem to get it from my head onto paper (or do you call this electronic paper?).

I'm not as smart and extremely adept at going after politics or social issues like some of my counterparts I follow on here (this is the one and only time I will admit to this. If you ask me face to face, I will tell you that I am the smartest person I know), I just stick with what I know, which is just basically observation of people and things around me, ocassionally being able to expound on them further as though I know what I'm talking about. Other times, its just a bunch of "Grade A" American Baloney (which I am an expert at this), as the whims bounce off my brainpan and onto this blog.

Today I'm blogging about this, just to blog, hoping that writing down SOMEthing will get my brain fired up to relieve the cerebral pressure and I can squeeze out a few more things that I actually get into for long enough to make this blog worth visiting.

Something I've noticed about this new blogger format when typing up a post....no convenient spellcheck, and I've had to come back and re-edit, searching the tools just to keep these paragraphs separate, instead of one big block jumble of words.... The problem with technology, is nothing ever seems to be good enough. And if you find something easy to use and it works for you, the companies WILL change it up and make whatever you did obsolete or non-operational. As long as they are changing, you have to change with them and do it the way THEY want you to do things, or you have to become some sort of misanthrope and miss out altogether.

And since blogging is kind of an egotistical thing for most of us- face it, this is about ego to a degree in that we actually think what we have to say matters to other people and that they should read it and follow whatever we tell them- I think they (the technology companies) have the biggest egos and get off on making us change our ways to conform to their wants, or be crushed in self defeat. I told you these bastards were evil!

Being Shortchanged By My Own Brain!

2011-09-29T10:23:00.000-07:00

I've noticed that when I'm extra tired, the dreams I have are much more interesting and sometimes so active I wake up exhausted... and pissed!

I don't really remember what I was dreaming about, even moments after waking up, but I know my dreams are stifling my growth. Not growth like having sipped some of my mom's coffee stunted my ability to be tall, but in life. Not sure if I was shortchanged economically, emotionally or otherwise, but I just KNOW, that my dreams ability to draw things out way too long are really irritating me.

I know that whatever is going on in the dream is interesting, and it keeps leading to some magical golden point. But the dreams keeps elaborating on and on, beating a dead horse. Kind of like those online copy ads that keep telling you what a great product/service/opportunity you can have if you respond now.... oh but wait let us tell you more, by merely expounding on what we just said, but with different word orders and sentence structures, followed with some vaguely written "testimonials". YEAH YEAH YEAH, JUST GET TO THE G%$$@&^* POINT ALREADY!

Yeah, my dreams are kind of annoying like that. Yes, I've been sucked in, I'm interested in your story, but more so, I'm interested in what the point is, what golden nugget of information is going to hit my hears, bounce around my brain and make me better off for knowing it.

And you know what? Every time I think I am right at that point where I'm gonna hear it... I wake up! That stupid alarm clock, or my stupid bladder complaining about how it needs to be emptied right now or it will wet my bed, is always interrupting my dreams just when they are getting to the good and juicy part of the story.

I keep thinking that I'm going to learn the secret of life, or how to make my first billion dollars, by merely HEARING the next utterances of whoever is talking to me in my respective dreams. And I can FEEL it with every fiber of my being. Then that clock goes off or my bladder wakes me up, and I find myself thoroughly disappointed and irritated that I had my chances shot to hell because of having to wake up.

I'll let the rest of you take it from here... I'm sure I had something really important to tell all of you to conclude this blog post, but I can't seem to remember what it is...

God Versus Nature

2011-09-13T09:24:00.000-07:00

So just a bit of disgusting guy humor to chew on for a few minutes. Now I know you all usually come here for up to date serious discussions that I introduce which will inevitably change the world, but I figured I'd lighten things up from my usual all-business-all-the-time posts...

So I had some greasy foods and some fiber loaded foods over the course of a few days. Eventually they came back to haunt me while I was working. Before you ask, no I did NOT soil myself while driving the patrol car. I did however go to a familiar facility that I am comfortable using. It also happened to be a church, an episcopalian one at that, that I lock up and do security checks at. I had a copy of the Sunday paper and took it in with me. 20 minutes and 10 pounds later, I ran out of that bathroom. You know its pretty bad when your own stuff frightens your sense of smell to the very core.

Surely I thought I will burn in hell for having destroyed the facilities. So naturally I asked a female friend. She assured me that "Jesus always forgives." That's nice, but also one opinion from someone who doesn't exactly regularly attend church, and keep up to date on the Sin/Not a Sin list.

So I asked a male coworker. He assured me that "Blowing up a Sh***** in the House of God is one of those unforgivable sins like suicide and that surely you will burn."

So, in order to break the tie I went to my lovely sister for her opinion. I told her the basic story and the answers I received from my two friends. She then informed me most assuredly that "God is an angry God. The New Testament and Jesus love stuff was just to co opt the tenderhearted people into worshipping God. And that you will definitely burn in hell." Again this opinion is from a non churchgoing person....but awfully harsh coming from a new age hippie liberal type. That and she is my sister... she probably relishes the day to find out whether I burn in hell or not, hoping for the former. Lot of love between her and I.

I asked her that if I destroyed an Episcopalian bathroom with all their tender loving God ways being a falsity in the name of the true angry God, that I might get leniency for helping to take down his false church. She said I'd be lucky if that were the case... she's probably still hoping for the hellfire and brimstone option for me.

Then I began to wonder... Angry god or not, he made me and he made the stuff to make the food I ate, and he should've foreseen the problem of the nature of my body reacting to this stuff and known that sooner or later, a church would be bombed out by my #2 stinky business. So ultimately this is God's fault (this is purely satire...don't go getting in a huff over this statement, you religious fanatics!) for making me this way...after all He created me in His image....So maybe I'm just trying to achieve His goal of becoming more like him. Maybe this production of Smoke On The (Holy Toilet) Water, is more of an homage of His greatness? Has God destroyed a few spiritual toilets in an effort to exalt Himself in front of the angels as an All-Powerful God among Gods?

Discuss amongst yourselves, and proffer your opinions.... Was it a Holy Sh*t, or a fast track to Hell?

American Healthcare Issues

2011-09-08T08:52:00.000-07:00

First off, let me say this isn't an argument for why we should leave health care in America the way it is, or pushing for universal coverage. I'm just doing a little nit-picking and general complaining over a few things.

One of the things I intend to bitch about came up on a blog by Renaissance Guy about a guy with an infected tooth who ended up dying. He went to the local emergency room and they gave him a prescription for some pain meds and an antibiotic and told to go get his tooth pulled. He was uninsured.

The big thing I wondered is why they couldn't have had some doctor come on in and just yank the infected tooth out and go from there with the pain meds and prescription.

One commenter, who goes by the moniker Plainly Spoken, said:

I would suspect that is because ER’s are not equipped for dental work and do not have dentists on staff. I would further think this is because there are not significant numbers of people going to ER’s for dental issues. Also, I would suspect that the large majority of dental emergencies occur because so many people ignore dental issues until forced to deal with them (which may well come from a lack of dental insurance and/or ability to afford dental care).

Fair enough opinion, but still I have to disagree that the people who work in the hospital aren't capable of pulling out a friggin tooth. They have local anesthetics, they have scalpels to cut away the gum if necessary, they have clamps to hold things out the way, and I'm sure something resembling a pair of pliers. Add some gauze to the hole when your done and give the guy some pain meds.

To which another commenter going by Spherical Time replied to my solution:

I think doctors are unlikely to attempt surgery that they haven’t trained for, especially with as few preparations as getting a scalpel, clamps, and a pair of pliers (and the gauze and painkiller).

That’s a good way to kill a patient

As to ST's first paragraph I agree. Although one caveat I might add is how many ER doctors got formal training treating gunshot wounds? Sooner or later it has to be figured out. As for removing a tooth, it isn't exactly rocket science. Yes, it is better to be trained in the professional manner, however, its still pulling a tooth. Take an X-ray to see what the tooth looks like altogether, then yank that puppy out of the guy's mouth. I would assume the reluctance of a doctor in an ER to do such a thing would be more insurance/malpractice/lawsuit related than the ability to do minor in house surgery.

As to removing the tooth killing a patient, I disagree. I've had a few teeth forcibly removed without the help of a trained professional, and I never died from it. I felt like I'd rather have died than deal with that kind of pain, since when it comes to my mouth I'm a big wimp, but somehow I survived it okay.

The stories we were given as kids, and some people may have actually experienced, about tying string to a loose tooth and a doorknob, or pulling a bad tooth out with pliers, they aren't just stories. That kind of thing actually happened... in one's own home, by the babysitter, or whomever.

Heck, for decades, if not centuries, both dental and medical care were administered where ever it was needed. They didn't require a big fancy building and a staff of specialists for every possible scenario in order to do the job. If a guy needed a big gash cleaned and stitched, the old saw bones (doctor) would do it right in his own house which sometimes doubled as his office, or at the patients place. If a guy needed a tooth removed, they removed the dag-blamed tooth.

Who needs big fancy buildings, a board of directors, insurance executives and legal departments to fix minor issues before they become major ones that might require all of the above? Hell, I have known quite a few elderly people who made a trip to the hospital for some reason or another and refused to stay, after the doctor made the decision to keep them, because they knew damn good and well that staying in the constantly sterilized environment might actually be more dangerous in the form of getting a bad antibiotic-resistant staph infection or pneumonia, than going home to heal up from whatever ailment they suffered from. They can check in by phone, or visit the clinic to be followed up with or monitored, and only choosing to stay in the hospital if things get really really bad that they actually physically REQUIRE hospitalization.

But then again, thanks to lawyers, if the doctors don't toe the line and something goes wrong, the patients family can sue the pants off of them. Whether it happened in the hospital or because the doctor didn't make them stay. I do argue for tort reform in the medical field. Not a full on "you can't sue the doctors for shit" kind of tort reform, but for putting a little common sense back into the system. If the doctor fucks something up, sure sue him. Get the cost of the medical requirements covered by the doctor, hospital, and/or their insurance companies. Get the lost wages to the family in the event of death or permanent disability. Even get your mental anguish and pain and suffering payments if you want...not $10 million dollars worth of pain and suffering by any means, but some smaller, more reasonable figure would be fine in my eyes.

I know life is precious and priceless, especially if it is yours or a loved one's, but some of these lawsuits that award millions in damages on top of the economic scope are ludicrous. I don't care if the guy is a $5 million dollar a year CEO of some corporation or some barely making handyman. Cover the health care costs for life for screwing him up, a reasonable wage recovery amount (in the event of the little guy, give him his last 20 years of work he would have done if it hadn't been for this medical "mistake"; as for the CEO, he can do with less than 20 years at $5 million per), and some capped compensation for your pain and suffering.

I'm not a big fan of lawyers and their ability to make a ton of money from your lawsuit while you get a pittance when something goes wrong in the medical business. I'm not a big fan of the insurance and hospital execs who get big pay for essentially "running" a corporation already tracking to succeed regardless of him being a member of the board. I'm not a big fan of the big pharmaceutical companies who insist on pushing their drugs onto everyone at a steep price, and working their damnedest to keep the generic versions from being available, or their working with insurance companies to keep erectile dysfunction drugs covered while not covering other types of more relevant lifesaving drugs and forcing the customer to pony up every penny for them.

I mean look, I'm not anti-regulation. I believe there has to be some regulations to protect all parties involved, but often times we over regulate things, and use too broad of a brush with those that exist that actually stymie the process in some instances.

Frogs, Bats, Wasps and FAIL!

2011-09-06T09:33:00.000-07:00

This year Iowa has seen a ton of tree frogs doing their wall and window hanging impressions. Like little green mimes, they just stick there silently mocking us humans who need to invent crap to stick to walls in such a way.

The other night I had the animal kingdom out in full force for my viewing pleasure while working. I saw a fox run down and then slaughter a little bunny rabbit. As I watched this spectacle occurring alongside me as I creeped through a residential neighborhood in my patrol vehicle, I was doing my best to mimic a combination of the National Geographic narrators combined with the guy who does the commentary at horse races. I found myself very amused by me, but then again, those of you who know me, know that isn't a hard thing to accomplish.

Cicadas have been out in full force this summer as well. With their little camouflage thoraxes these things seem to believe they are soldiers, or rather the live embodiment of attack choppers, with all their loud noises and their flying about haphazardly. While most keep their distance from me, this particular night I disturbed one that was on the edge of a door frame near a scan strip I have to swipe in an effort to let the boss know I was in fact there. As son as my hand got near the unseen bug, it swooped up in the air and then proceeded to dive bomb me, repeatedly, for about 10 feet. I'm not sure what the goal of this attack was on the Mookified Leader was, but it was kind of annoying and did make me jump and swipe. Luckily no one was around to witness this spectacle I was putting on, other than a billion flying insects that swarm the lights at the facility I was checking. He finally gave up after hitting the ten foot mark, and lucky for him... I was about to kill the little flying bastard, instead I found a few making due on the concrete below some ground lights and killed them instead as a warning that the Mook does not take kindly to acts of terrorism, especially from insects.

Then I crossed the street to a group of 3 buildings I check nightly, and the place where I most commonly find my little tree frogs. As I pulled up alongside the first building, I saw something hanging alongside the door on the cement/stucco wall of the building. It was rather large in comparison tot he frogs I usually see hanging about. As I got closer, I realized it was awfully furry to be a frog. Then I got right up on this intruder and realized this furry thing was definitely no frog but a God-forsaken BAT!!!!

Just hanging out on the wall about a foot above the sidewalk, I was not only being Marcel Marceau-d by frogs, but also a fucking bat! Those little sonsabitches usually only confronted me inside old buildings, schools and some houses, and now they were brave enough to come at me, a trained professional bat killer, errr bat remover, outside in the open air? Luckily for him, I had my blood lust satisfied by watching the fox and rabbit massacre as well as the killing of a few misguided cicadas... oh and the praying mantis that tried to go toe to toe with me (pretty much literally)outside the local medical school earlier that evening. I left this rabies infested scourge of the night alone to sleep against his warm wall, vowing his um, removal, should he be there the next time I returned.

Anyways, back to the frogs. The boys and I went camping the other weekend at Lake Ahquabi, which features a load of trails, bathroom facilities- some of which are loaded with wasp nests galore (more on that later)-, and a nice little lake that also happens to be home to a lot of frogs. One guy was jigging frogs out of one end of the lake, playing with the bullfrogs and then letting them go back to their homes. My oldest son had found a new friend on the campgrounds and they spent hours out hunting for salamanders and frogs. They had a good time.

One thing that struck me dumb was at night while the boys were sleeping in the tent. I was watching my little campfire burn, adding a few logs to it when necessary to keep the fire going so I could stare at and be lost in the flames that much longer. I heard stirring from the tent, and my oldest Joshua is talking in his sleep. Mostly mumbles then suddenly and very loudly I hear him exclaim, "FAIL, FAIL, FAIL!"

I'm not sure what that was about. It could be that since he didn't get video games at all for the weekend, they invaded his dreams for a bit and he was yelling at the TV screen while playing, or trash talking some friend playing against him in a video game. I don't really know, but it was funny as hell, and again, amused me greatly. I never heard another peep out of him the entire night.

This year has been an odd one for flying stinging insects for me. It was just 2 weekends ago that I literally saw my first honey bee all year. Growing up, I would see them all the time as they hit the dandelions and other flowers from early morning til early evening. Now I rarely see them at all. I had heard of mysterious drops in honey bee populations, and of course I have seen more than my fair share of wasps and hornets. And this little video tells me all I need to know about that:

I really really like honey... So I find it in my heart to ally myself with honeybees and do in their predatorial cousins any chance I get.

Once it warmed up we had wasps and hornets flying all around my apartment building. I armed myself with enough spray to poison the entire fresh water supply in central Iowa. Did I mention I hate flying stingy bugs? I don't care much for bugs at all as it is, especially itch-making mosquitoes and chiggers, but the things that can fly great distances and change direction in mid flight to avoid a swatting and still come sting me??? Forget that noise. They can all die!

And die they did. One steady stream of non-electrically conducting liquid wasp & hornet death juice at a time brought to you by RAID! I even nailed a bumblebee out on my deck, drenching him with approximately 3 cups (4 quarts Canadian) of the stuff.

But I still had an elusive enemy lurking about the property. This thing was big and black with a few very thin yellow half stripes. It's body gleamed in the sunlight showing its true body armor. It started out hanging out near the drainage coil underneath the sidewalk that led up to the south end of our building. Occasionally it would buzz up near the doorsteps, but rarely. Then one day the shiny knight of the Hornet kingdom buzzed my deck, hovering a bit as if to challenge me to battle before dropping down to a dirt patch where some bushes once stood. It would fly up quickly to the trees along the west edge of the property going after the cicadas I presume, and then shortly it would return to the dirt patch, hovering about, never landing. I don't know if it was a Cicada Killer, or a giant effing hornet, but I wasn't about to ask it face to face. The Mookified Army had to mobilize at this new threat to its leader's peace.

Armed with my previously aforementioned can of hornet death juice, I went outside to the sidewalk to confront my enemy, with a spotter on my deck to keep an eye on its whereabouts. When I landed below, the Hornet Knight was still hovering about the dirt patch. I drew my trusty can of death juice and fired away from a safe distance. The can stated to have a 22 foot range, however had finally giving out... white gaseous clouds emitted from the nozzle, essentially gassing the area around the Hornet Knight! GASP! I began the quick retreat of fear that little kids exhibit when they get spooked. But the Hornet Knight just buzzed about his happy little existence, surely laughing his little buzzy laugh at me as I went inside, thwarted once again by the failings of technology.

Then the other evening, the Hornet Knight reappeared as I sat on the south stoop having a cigarette and enjoying a nice cold refreshing Barley Soda. He zipped in close, hovered near the legs of myself and a friend. I moved slowly and proceeded indoors. My friend asked me if I was scared and running away. To this, I, General Mook, proclaimed that I was not afraid, but must secure my weapons of war and deal with the evil invader that flies and stings stuff. You see, I had since procured more flying stinging insect death juice in a can!!! I left my friend to keep an eye on it. Of course when I returned, the Hornet Knight must've smelled the scent of its one weakness that comes in a can. He had disappeared. I boldly stated how he must be scared of the deadly Mookist military machine, to which I received in response a small and sarcastic sounding chuckle. but then, back to the stoop the Hornet Knight came a calling. He had been querying a spot between the bricks underneath a layer of steps. I told my friend to back off and let a professional warrior handle this business. I too stepped back about 5 feet from the stoop. The Hornet Knight then settled in and landed on the steps, preparing to crawl into the crevasse.

SHWOOOOOSHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I hit that bad boy with everything I had for about 10 seconds straight. The Hornet Knight's own body armor could not withstand the heavy onslaught of flying stinging bug death juice in a can. It quickly curled up almost appearing to have stung itself in the face to get its death over with quickly and avoid suffering the burny sensation that must be caused by my aerosol technology.

The previous few nights of work, about 8 miles away just outside of downtown, I had found a nest of little yellow jackets or wasps or some such thing that had built a nest in front of a boarded up window on the backside of an abandon tenement that I patrol. Teeming over the nest and keeping an eye on my once the beam of my flashlight illuminated it, I knew they too were preparing to deal with the Mookist leader while he played rentacop. However, after the death of the Hornet Knight, these wasps had disappeared, leaving nothing but a dry nest behind them. Some might say the falling temperatures made them abandon the nest for a more desirably insulated location, but I know it was because I had eliminated the regional warlord that I had dubbed the Hornet Knight...however he was no knight, but a Hornet King!!!

And I single-handedly squashed any flying stinging bug uprising that may have been about to occur by taking out their leader!!!

So hopefully next spring and summer, the honey bees return and make my precious product that I crave so much. If not, I may have to start a new career as the Great White Wasp Hunter!!! And I will bring virulent death to all that fly and sting, besides the honey bees, until they are no more!!!

And then they will make a new and improved Starship Troopers, where Instead of Johnny Rico going after some kind of friggin arachnid threat from outer space, Chuck Norris (Playing former Texas Ranger turned Mookist Emperor) will be the lone savior of humanity as he roundhouse kicks hornets and wasps and bumblebees of all varieties, in an inter-species war of attrition (they sacrifice themselves in huge numbers, Chuck Norris sacrifices midget babies as bait) and extinction- on earth AND in outer space!!!

Camping With The Boys

2011-08-19T07:55:00.000-07:00

This last weekend was my weekend with the boys. I decided to take a trip out to Thomas Mitchell Park, a little ways outside the Des Moines Metro area. One of my best friends and his wife were completing moving into my building and cleaning up their old place, so I took along their son, one of my pseudo-nephews. It started off as a nice little day trip, to get the boys out of the apartment and out of the city into nature for a few hours.

Josh and Buggy love this kind of stuff, where they get to run around freely without worries of traffic, and do whatever comes to their imaginations. My nephew on the other hand, was mostly confined to the city, and not exposed much to the more natural world. At first he was scared to leave the adult company too far behind while we went along one of the walking trails. It took awhile but soon he found himself confident and comfortable enough to keep up with my boys, playing in the creek and building a rock dam across the waterway along with some other kids who were out there.

At this point in my writing I find myself frustrated. Some of what I intended to write here would make more sense or have some context of hilarity with accompanying pictures. However either my computer or blogger is being stupid and uploading photos seems to be an impossibility. I'm a bit on the special side and need (more than just prefer) visual aids to go along with my writing. Kind of like a kindergartner, I like illustrations to go with the story, whether I'm reading it or being read to.

Anyways, after walking the trails, we came upon the creek that runs through the park, and across the creek is the campgrounds. Kids were in the creek playing, building a dam of rocks across the stream. It took no time or encouragement for my kids to strip their shoes and socks off and join in on the engineering project. My nephew was a little hesitant, and soon came out of the creek saying it was too slippery in the creek bed for his liking. After some coaxing, he went back in and soon found it pleasing to have the sand and mud and rocks under his feet in the water. He and Buggy also discovered natural clay. It didn't take long to have their hands covered in the stuff as they grabbed it up out of the water squished it through their fingers! Josh seemed quite at home moving rocks with the other kids from one part of the creek to the new dam they were building. Although he found that being the biggest kid there (he's 12 years old, almost as tall as me, and wears men's 9 1/2 shoes), he got volunteered to grab some of the bigger rocks to lug over to what would be the rocks new home along with the others that helped block up the waterway. Or rather, created a very short shallow set of rapids as the water rushed in between and over some of the rocks.

After a few hours of romping around in the creek, we headed back to the city, bringing my nephew back home, and had decided, thanks in part to a family friend I had with me, that we would return to the park and camp out over night.

We stopped at the grocery store to pick up some food supplies, and grabbed sleeping bags, blankets, and clothes from home to take with us. Being the manly man that I am, I opted to do the sleeping under the stars version of camping. We're no sissies! We don't need no stinking tents!

I bought some firewood from the camp hosts. (apparently, they pay people to camp out at these parks, and assist the visitors... what a job to have!) They delivered it, and the man asked if we were just sleeping on the ground and no tent. I let him know that yes, in fact we were. He made some reference to me having had to be military in the past. Also true. And they went on their way leaving us to cook our hot dogs and smores over the campfire. Sometime after it got dark, the local park cop, the DNR's version of a rentacop (even the government can't hold such a high standard of rentacoppin like the private industry- and mainly me- can), comes by and asks where our tent is. I inform him of our non-sissy standards, and he informs me that "we don't really permit sleeping under the stars."

REALLY? It's friggin Iowa. It's not like I have to worry about venomous ducks wandering through, or wild dingos coming to eat my children. In which case, a measly tent isn't going to stop either. There is absolutely no rain in the forecast. I paid the $13 for the night's stay. Who cares if I sleep in a sleeping bag only, or inside a sleeping bag located inside a tent? Apparently the county park authorities do. I'm not really sure why, but at after 9pm, I don't see it wise to have a pissing match with the park cop and getting us all kicked out. I would've satisfied my ego having stood up to the park cop, but disappointed the kids when we got banned for life or something. So it didn't really seem worth the hassle.

I decided to drive into town to grab my friend's tent. It is freaking huge and has a lot of parts. Putting that thing together in the dark was not my idea of fun. So on the way, I detoured to Walmart and bought a $60 tent that was big enough to serve our needs, gives me a tent of my own, and best of all, easy to assemble. Even in the dark it was no more than 10 minutes from opening the kit to having the ten up and ready to go.

In the midst of the night, a raccoon invaded our campsite. I was sitting on the picnic table bench with my friend watching the fire when we hear somnething. We both thought I had knocked over my Pepsi. As I shifted, out skitters a raccoon from under the table. The raccoon and I eyeballed each other from a distance of about 5 feet, both quite surprised to see each other. I guess I sat by the fire so still he wandered in not noticing me, and me not noticing him.

Once I get a fire going, I can sit there for hours just watching it. When I go visit my parents, Dad and I can do that in his backyard, and just lose all track of time. And so, here I was doing that very same thing as my boys slept in their new tent. Eventually I let the fire die down and retired to go to sleep.

The next morning was a slow start, but plenty early as most camping trips I always wake up way early for some reason. Josh wandered off to play some basketball with a couple kids he met there, and is now friends with, as they too live in Des Moines. Later on, my two boys and this brother and sister went exploring as much of the trail and the creek as possible. They managed to catch frogs and minnows with their bare hands, and generally just ran around like kids. I spent a little bit of time in the creek, but kept to the dry areas, never removing my socks and shoes. I got to see some frogs and tadpoles, some butterflies and moths...and of course spy on the kids a bit as they waded up and down the creek doing their thing.

As I mentioned, Josh is 12. He isn't quite tot he point of liking girls yet. Although at one point as they all waded through the creek in their swimsuits, I noticed the 13 year old sister and he close together a few times, but as soon as he noticed he was being seen, he made definite separation. Subconciously he likes her, it just hasnt made it to the part of his brain where he actually realizes it yet. As the Mook, I would've teased him for it. However as his father, I left it alone.

This last week I recieve multiple missed calls from strange numbers. On Wednesday I actually answered a call (I almost never answer numbers I dont recognize). It was the 11 year old boy calling to hang out. So I went to pick the boy up, and upon further discovery I found out the other strange but close phone number was his sister... the girl in the story. MULTIPLE missed calls.... I see Josh using his friend to get to the sister some years from now. Kids! sheesh.

Anyways, back to the campsite. At one point, Bug was enjoying himself and was up near me. He made the comment that he wished he lived there. He has said this before about spots where he's had woods to run through and a creek to play in, so it didn't surprise me much. He's only 7 1/2 years old, and as long as he has a fun spot to play in like this, he's more than content, and wouldn't ever miss the conveniences of the city. Personally I don't blame him, but the city is where we live. But it was definitely a fun time getting out in the "sticks" with the boys to run around in more than just a city park. And of course, not having to worry about crossing heavy traffic to go from one place to the next is always nice.

All in all, it was a great time. We already have another trip lined up for our next weekend together.

A Citizen's Message To Those In Washington D.C.

2011-08-11T15:31:00.000-07:00

WARNING: VERY ADULT LANGUAGE, Listen at your own risk.

Here's a guy with a simple, non-partisan message regarding our budget issues as a nation. He basically says to hell with social decorum and playing nice here. I think he says what a lot of people are thinking in their minds while talking with a lot less expletive language. Enjoy:

My Ego Has Turned Me Into A Superhero

2011-08-09T09:26:00.000-07:00

Well, sort of. Let's see where to start. This year I've changed out my first ever electrical outlet in a friend's apartment as well as assisted in car repair duties. I've moved heavy stuff up to 3rd floor apartments for 3 different sets of friends this year already (it seems none of my friends can do the whole 1st floor thing, they want me to work waaay too hard I guess). I even mowed a friends lawn for them while they were at work. You know, MANLY stuff.

I recently returned to my blog, having been given access to the internet within my compound from a friend's WIFI access. While I regard this as a laudable achievement to be greeted with much fanfare, it's not just me boosting my ego. Below is a comment from another blogger who's site I have always been a regular visitor prior to "unplugging" from this interweb thingy for a few months:

◦MOOKIE!!!

Welcome back!!! I can’t tell you how good it is to hear from you. I’m just getting back to writing on something resembling a regular basis myself. June and July were pretty dismal but I just didn’t have the need to say anything. By the time I started writing again I lost so many regulars. I thought I lost you as well. It’s really good to see you back. My world is saved already!

Peace

Comment by brotherpeacemaker |

See, even in suburban Des Moines, Iowa, I am saving some people's world by merely being back on the internet. Mookism has extended its power to reach all the way to St Louis, Missouri. On top of that, it has stretched the other way all the way across the Pacific Ocean to Taiwan, where a cousin of mine lives. She has stated her quality of life improved now that she doesn't have to rely strictly on email (we used to Skype with each other regularly prior to my internet-less world) and me getting my lazy butt up the road to the library every once in a great while (also read as RARELY).

So you see, it is not me just praising myself. But there really are other people in the world who think highly of me. My oldest kid is 12, So in about a year or so, I'm sure his opinion of me will go down dramatically as he goes through his teenage years. The youngest, still finds me amusing in a good way. But he's 7, so I can only enjoy that about another 5 years or so before he turns to the dark side as well.

Now in the meantime I need to figure out how to capitalize on this popularity. Politics is not the route I intend to go. I'm eligible for the Presidency for the 2016 elections, when I expect to garner enough support to get myself elected to El Dictator for 4 years, when I shall relinquish my dictatorship having solved the world's problems by telling everybody how it is, in between a few ego-crushing butt kickings from my father... They'll be scheduled for Thursdays at 3pm, and available on pay per view for $29.99 where all proceeds go toward our national debt. I'm sure he'll throw in a few extra whoopings just because he's my dad, and a few more because he thinks I'm being a bit too much of a jerk about things. I'd threaten to cut out his retirement package entirely and donate it to someone else, but he'd probably find a way to ground me anyways, and take away my allowance. And he'd make me believe it really was for my own good, rather than his own sadistic amusement at having more power than the duly elected Dictator Mookie.

In the meantime, I have ideas and plans for an economic experiment on a micro scale to ensure real job creation and economic stimulus, including debt reduction across the nation. So SCOTT ERB...if you're reading this, you need to email me so I can fill you in and ask for some help on this secret issue. (you'll be compensated handsomely) If it works, I see no reason why I wont be made Dictator of the United States (DOTUS) for 4 years.

If it doesn't work, then I need to come up with a plan to make the Powerball Lotto people cooperate with me so I win a big jackpot! Those damn retailers keep selling me faulty tickets!

A Return With Less Cowbell Than Thought

2011-08-05T14:22:00.000-07:00

So... Been quite awhile since I graced you people with my presence. Yeah well, I've been busy, and the whole lack of internet at home kind of slowed things down some. We'll see how much my presence works out here again. I now have internet access, courtesy of some wifi action my friend has helped out with greatly. I can't even remember the last time I logged myself into this whole interweb thingy while sitting in a comfortable seat.

I'm still trying to get used to this, so if u find yourself behind a slow moving internet user, well sorry, but just remember this: I may be going slow, but I'm still in front of you!

That and I was assuming my return would come automatically with a parade of some sort. I'm looking around and I neither see nor hear the fire trucks, the Shriner's in their crazy cars, or a few politicians trying to keep their names and faces remembered for voting day. Of course I'm sure the politicians will find a way to hack their rhetoric right into this blog somehow, any moment... Oh crap, I now see them coming this way already. Steve King, Michelle Bachmann, John Boehner and President Obama are running this way!!! This is clearly not going to end well...

I can only hope Christopher Walken will show up any moment with more Cowbell and shoo them away and lead them to someone else's page like some modern day pied piper business. I've already gotten the political calls on my phone...I do not need them on my blog!!!! HELP ME!!

Anyways, I'm now going to have to contemplate this renewed option and unclog the information traffic jam in my brain to maybe bring more interesting posts back to your lives.

P.S.- I thought absence made the heart grow fonder... I'm not seeing a huge wave of followers who joined vigiliantly to see my return... I mean for pete sakes this is almost as important as MacArthur returning to Korea like he said he would!

I'm 32 Friggin Years Old

2011-04-27T07:30:00.000-07:00

So, I have cut off my internet connection at my place, which is why some of you have not seen more blogs from me, or seen me lurking about your blogs and leaving comments.

I stopped in at the local public library for one main purpose. To print off my Free Grand Slam breakfast from Denny's coupon they emailed me as a member of their rewards club.

So today I turned 32 years old... not really a milestone marker, but hey, I'm actually bothering to celebrate this year with some friends. And since it's my birthday, my gift to you, the outside world that is still plugged into the grid, is to let you see that I still haven't managed to die.

I tried to die on Easter Sunday. Not really on purpose. I went and played on the basketball courts that afternoon before going to work. While I suffered no contact induced injuries, I seem to have forgotten in my senile old age to stretch ahead of time, and to maybe take it a bit easier than I did when I was 16. I ended up with a knot in my thigh, and strained something in my lower calf (all in my right leg), resulting in me limping thru the entirety of my work shift that night, and only today feeling 100% again. I was sure they were going to have to haul me off and put me down, like a horse with a broken leg. I also destroyed my $20 walmart special shoes. Not entirely, but when I took the shoes off I had some light greenish foamy powder residue all over my socks, all over my feet underneath the socks, and even more inside the shoes themselves. I don't know what it was, but something inside disintegrated into a fine powder. I'm sure my mom will blame my nasty feet and their odor for killing the shoes...she may be right, I really don't know. Anyways, the birthday celebration is set for this upcoming Saturday night. If you can't make it, you may send cash in the amount of $50 in your stead. I'll be sure to make sure the money feels right at home with me.

Not much else to say at this point...so I'll shove off and go get my Denny's for breakfast.

Congratulations Abound!!

2011-04-08T08:02:00.000-07:00

In spectacular fashion, The Mookist Regime has proven itself victorious yet again. After attempting a peaceful resolution with entities wishing to encroach upon the sovereignty and air space of the Mookified Compound failed, we were left with no choice but to respond militarily.

The Feline Brigade, led by the brilliant Colonel Beauregard Sterling Lovell, responded successfully to a dual threat posed by both a squirrel infantry faction and an aerial attack by birds.

Having been nicer weather, General Mook had decided to allow freedom of movement between the interior compound and the area known as The Deck. The first assault came at 0930 hours this morning with a squirrel sapper attack, harassing the Colonel's good sensibilities. The Colonel swiftly moved into action from a distance of 6 feet within the compound towards the squirrel, who immediately shifted gears to get away. A bird attempted to strafe the Colonel as he entered the Deck area. In a blindingly fast moment, the Colonel took to the air, knocking the aerial intruder out of the airspace. There was a moment of confusion as the Colonel left the marked boundaries of the Mookified Compound, as he took the enemy over the railing of the deck out into the Occupied Territory that most people know as "The Yard." An amazing leap, and a death defying drop to the lower level. It was an intense moment, but quickly we saw that The Colonel had not only taken the enemy out of our airspace, but out of his ill-willed existence.

Even at the risk of life and paw, The Colonel showed the military might of the Mookified Regime, and the effectiveness of its training regimen to turn out super soldiers. A hero's welcome followed, including some kitty treats for The Colonel, as they are his favorite. After a brief medical checkup, the Colonel was found to be in good health despite the non-parachute assisted jump. Squirrels run off, Bird flying has retreated to a safe distance that no longer threatens the Mookified Compound. April 7th has already been officially declared a holiday within the Mookified Compound and shall be henceforth celebrated heartily, with milk flowing and kitty treats being downed in amounts to surely lead to long catnaps everywhere!

Spring Has Arrived, and Life Is Still Here.

2011-04-07T08:18:00.000-07:00

Spring is finally rearing its head back around. FINALLY! While this last winter has been much easier than the winter before, and I should be thankful for that, I still, as a matter of principle have to complain. I hate the cold weather, The fact that snow soaks my boots and makes my socks wet and thus my feet are long term grape-ified from a night of work walking around businesses and houses that weren't kind enough to ensure me a dry manageable route to traverse at all times. But finally the snow has melted and the temperatures have gone up somewhat. It still gets cold at night, and during the day while it is considerably warmer, the moderate spring breeze keeps it too chilly for me to go out and about in a t-shirt and shorts. I have a heck of an issue with holding body heat apparently, since I have other friends who complain that they get hot in their apartments, even though the windows are open and the breeze is blowing thru and I feel like I have to put my coat back on just to be comfortable.

But, that will all come to an end soon enough. I now have rain and thunderstorms to complain about coming soon, and once those quit, I'll have the high humidity levels to complain about that make me sweat profusely and cause me, a guy who will sweat like Richard Simmons at the very thought of physical activity, to take 2 showers a day, just to avoid being as smelly as the landfill. But I much prefer the heat of summer to the cold of winter. Much more that can be done outside, whether its a game of football or basketball, walking or biking the trails, hiking through the woods with the kids, or taking them to the lake to watch them have fun in the water. I'm not much of a water person...and for some reason the local authorities have not seen fit to heat the natural waterways to a comfortable 75 or 80 degrees as of yet for my swimming comfort.

As spring represents a new beginning, I got some bad news this weekend that I have to stat a lot of things over. The computer we had last fall crashed and burned. SO bad that a computer genius was unable to pull the 7000+ photos we had amassed over the years, nor my book writings. Now many people might ask why I didn't have them backed up. Well, I intended to back them up, but never got around to it. So now, with the exception of what photos I have posted on previous blog entries and elsewhere online, pictures from holiday events, family get togethers, and vacations are all lost, never to be seen again. This was quite disappointing, given all the years of memories encapsulated in those photos are gone forever. My electronic form of my book writings was also gone. This, I considered less important than the photos, since I can always rewrite anything, and I had the majority of the book printed out. I only have to manually re-copy all that, and rewrite the few chapters I hadn't finished and/or printed out prior to the computer dying on us.

Since I have cancelled my netflix, deactivated my facebook and will soon rely on the public library for my Internet, I will have time to get on with my writing without the excuse of distractions such as facebook. As of Monday April 11, I will be devoting 2 hours a day to rewriting everything until it is done. Then I will work on submission to some agents I looked up and think might be favorable to my writing style for representation. Then maybe I can sell some books and make some money. I don't expect to be able to retire on that kind of money, but it would be nice for an unknown author to set some sort of sales record, and be able to concentrate on either more writing, or whatever whim catches my fancy on any given day. It's a dream to keep in mind I suppose. And since I doubt I can convince the government or taxpayers to beginning allotting 1-2% of their income to supporting me and whatever lifestyle I choose to lead, I guess I'll have to keep plugging away until I figure out what's going to work best for me. This overnight work as a rentacop has served a basic purpose providing something resembling 'making a living', but just as I am, its getting old, and BORING.

There has got to be way more to life than going to work, coming home, eating and sleeping. And I don't mean all the things you see in luxury magazines, but even the simplest lifestyle where one can find the fun activities to participate in (such as skydiving, family vacations without worry of having enough money to do anything AND pay the rent) or observe (like live sporting events, without worrying if I'm going to have to sacrifice sleep before work time arrives). I remember growing up, I had all kinds of plans for life. I was going to make life my bitch essentially. Life was going to be your average sitcom. Nice house, family pets, money to go on vacation or get gifts for people, all your problems solved in a half hour with simple fatherly wisdom, or an hour if you couldn't fit the script in a particular week's episode. I would have all the great perks in life, including the well paying job I loved to go do in between well balanced meals served to me by my loving spouse and getting to eat it with the family, while they tell me the tales of their adventures throughout the day while I was away.

I also was going to be some sort of real life action hero. My plans included the military life. I was going to be like a one man wrecking machine. The guy the President and Pentagon requested whenever something went wrong in the world and some bad guys needed killing. What's this? Libya is acting up. Quick, call up Mook, apprise him of the situation and give him whatever he needs. WE need this taken care of now, for the good of the country and the rest of the world. And then I would go parachuting into some far off land loaded down with twice my body weight in weapons and ammo. Who knows, maybe I'd just get into a tank and have it air-dropped in while I was at it. I'd have all the know how of MacGyver and the ability to drop my enemies with deadly Chuck Norris like moves (I am a ninja after all), in the eventual happenstance of my weapons all jamming up. I figure no war would outlast a single week. Then I'd go back home, get the ticker tape parade, commercial endorsements for GI MOOK action figures, free sandwiches at Subway or Jimmy Johns. More official visits to the White House...as Forrest Gump said: AGAIN! Eventually I'd probably end up being elected President of the United States, and all the fun that comes with that business. Of course being a one man walking army, I'd abolish the Secret Service... after all, when you're as awesome as I am, the few crazies who might want to harm me needn't put up with amateurs like those guys.

You know, all that crap that only screenwriters can come up with. But, with any luck, I can chase down my own piece of the American Dream, where I can at least have a nice house and some dogs to terrorize The Colonel. Maybe go catch a few MLB games, and if they still play in the future some NFL games (Maybe I can catch a 49ers game where they actually win!), drive back and forth across the country checking out a few of the major touristy spots, but mostly the lesser known local haunts that make each place interesting in its own way. Or just get up at 0-dark-thirty with a thermos of coffee and go fishing. Wouldn't matter if I caught anything. The supermarket has fish that I don't have to gut and clean!

As for right now, I'm just happy that I have Scentsy stuff and a new brand of cat litter that seem to be doing the job keeping the smell of The Colonel's latrine and his acid pee from overtaking the apartment. And I get to hammer my kids over doing their homework and then going outside to play for a couple hours. Even if they find me boring and decide they'd rather play with their friends and not their dear old dad.

Abercrombie Encourages Infantile Sluttiness?

2011-03-28T08:08:00.000-07:00

<-------
The "padded" bikini top for little girls. Just one item in a list of many on the web page, which I'm not going to allow their link to be graced on my blog.
<-------

So I logged onto my facebook account this morning as I usually do after getting home from work. A friend of mine has a post about Abercrombie now marketing swimwear with padded bikini tops towards the 7-8 year old girl. Many of you readers already know that I am a bit "out there" with where my mind wanders and some of my actions in life. Some of you who really know me, know it takes a lot for me to become suddenly morally outraged. I may not be thrilled with some things on a moral level personally, but generally abide by the old adage, "To each their own." But this really kind of irritated me on a level I am not even sure I can fully comprehend.

I only have young boys for children, so one might think I would be less concerned with such things. But my mind actually wandered into the realm of WHAT IF. What if I had a little girl? Well if I did, she sure as hell would never be getting the opportunity to wear one of these abominations of swimwear. And if anyone bought one for her...it wouldn't even be returned, it would be burned, and videotaped to be put on YouTube shortly thereafter. I don't care how well the marketers may craft it into some "must have" item for little girls. Even if it ruined my imaginary little girl's fragile little self esteem and social standing with all the other little girls whose mothers chose to get them the edgy fashionable slutty swimwear, then so be it. I'd gladly pay for the counseling later, rather than let her wear this kind of garbage.

Now some of you may be asking just whats wrong with a padded bikini top? Well, where to start? For one, the entire premise behind a padded bikini top in its previous forms was to give a little extra oomph in the breast department. It wasn't made for protection, it was made to show of the boobs.

As a former teenager, I didn't mind seeing this on girls my age at the time, or 'older' women either for that matter. At least they had reached puberty and were growing something that may or may not have needed a little extra help showing off. At the same time, I'm sure their dads were all groaning and plotting slow painful deaths to guys like me who took great pleasure in "boobie watching", as it were. Now there was a limit to our watching and admiring, and 7 and 8 year olds were definitely not in the watchable category. As morally questionable as teenage boys are, we (at least the people I knew growing up) knew better than to think it was okay to go oggling some little kid, nevermind the fact that we had no interest in little girls in such a way. Even when we were little, we knew little girls had cooties, and even if we found ourselves "liking" one of these creatures, it was an innocent puppy love that didn't trigger anything sexual whatsoever.

Now clothes makers have always been pushing edgy and fashionable to different new horizons. The midriff shirts, the pants designed to show off your thong and half your ass crack... the thong itself. Bikinis actually as well, when they replaced the one piecers all the adult ladies I knew wore to the pool or beach. They eventually expanded the bikini to little girls... even then I pretty much didn't care. It's a little girl, whatever. But now you're pushing breast enhancing pads into these things to throw on little girls who presumably don't even have breasts?? I mean c'mon! At some point you have to realize just how sick things have gotten. I thought reality TV was the height of moral decadence in our country, but this pretty much just went right up to the number one slot in about 5 seconds of me finding out about it. Sure, the pads are "removable", but so the fuck what? Why are they there in the first place? Protection??? On a 7 to 8 year old girl?? I think not. There are far more spots on a little girls body that would require protection before her chest did.

I'm not sure who deserves to be fired and shot, and not necessarily in that order, The moron who designed this stuff, the boss who approved it because it was a such a "great idea", and edgy and all that mumbo jumbo, or the friggin marketers who, lacking much in the way of morals and ethics once money is waved in their face.

Now I'm all about the free market and making products that people need and want, but I think at this point they are trying to artificially create a market where none existed and are now going to push it down our throats as much as possible until the idea of a 7 or 8 year old girl with the swimwear equivalent of a pushup bra is so mainstream we don't even think about it. What's next, edible thongs for kids??? I mean for fucks sake, go design whatever the hell ya want in the privacy of your own little office, but there does come a point where you need to consider that not every one of your little ideas is worthy of being shown off to the world.

With all the news of pedophiles out and about in the world all around us, why would you even bother with such nonsense. It's like you're trying to offer up your little girl with a target on her for these nutjobs, just so you can look like a "cool" mom who's hip and trendy and has her daughter wearing the "latest" thing, that other mom's will be envious of you and adore you for your progressive forward thinking ways.

SO to the guys who designed, made and marketed this idea, and to any parent who considers getting this for their kid to actually wear..., I hope you get chased into a pit full of Duckbill Platypi and feel the wrath of its venomous stinger and the subsequent issues that come along with it, even after treatment, you pieces of fucking TRASH! And after that, if you would be so kind as to douse yourselves in gasoline and light yourselves on fire for a little rendition of "hell on earth", that'd be great.

Sex Studies Good For Heart Health

2011-03-24T08:59:00.000-07:00

Ripped from the headlines: Irregular physical activity, including sex, can trigger heart attacks.

The idea that is found out to be true, and supported by this study from Tufts and Harvard University, is that "regular" exercise can decrease the risk of cardiovascular disease and death associated with it. We must be a bunch of dumbasses to have had some Ivy Leaguer scientists conduct a study to tell us something we've pretty much known for quite a few decades now.

More or less, it turns out that people who are out of shape or lead more sedentary lifestyles are more than 2 1/2 times more likely to suffer a heart attack in the midst of "sporadic activity" or the once in awhile occurrence of sexual escapades, than those who get regular physical exercise, which it turns out, sex can qualify as your exercise, as long as you do it regularly.

As one of the cofounders and head resident doctor at the James Medical Institute's Midwestern Regional Campus, let me be clear on one thing. When they say sex as exercise, they mean sex involving another person (full disclosure: some regions of the country allow for the other party to be a herding animal, preferably your own). Masturbation, no matter how frequent or frenzied it may be, does NOT qualify in the same realm, and has its own set of benefits (a healthy prostate in males, state law barred us from researching female tendencies), and risks (mainly a bad case of 'tennis elbow').

Often, you hear stories of old guys collapsing from a heart attack while outside shoveling snow during the winter. Or at least you used to. With the advent of wonder drugs like Viagra or Cialis, the old men have overcome their decreasing ability to maintain sex-drive and get plenty of practice attempting to keep up with their wives' seemingly endless rise towards peak sexual overdrive. Which in turn has created two new situations...increased STDs in nursing homes, and new employment of young kids to scoop the old geezer's driveway and sidewalks because the old man is still resting from last nights 3 hour romp with the Mrs, sponsored by Viagra. For the manly old men, who still choose to scoop their drives and walks, they don't fall over dead nearly so often anymore, due to that increase in their sexercise routine.

However, thanks to technology that has brought us things like blogging and facebook and email, the rest of us, who don't have medicare paying for our sexual stimulation yet, have become lazy and fat. For some reason, the fast food and high fat content foods we eat now no longer get absorbed and released quite like it did when we were kids. As a rentacop, I am especially prone to this, because only craptastic food is available at 3am when I get hungry, and as a rentacop, I am essentially a non-exercising blob of lard all night long. I really don't have to work all that hard, and everywhere I have to go to, I drive there. Now some might suggest that I could solve the food issue, by buying foods to make my own lunches and bring them with me for when I get hungry at work. To you people I say: Look up a few lines where I mentioned the part about us being lazy. You also say, take some time out of your day to exercise, and that will help. Again: LAAAAZYYYYY. Besides that, when I get home, it takes every ounce of energy I have just to put this blog out for you to read, and to peruse my facebook making snarky comments everywhere.

So, as a self-made doctor, I have come up with a solution to solve my problems. All you female peoples are just going to have to sacrifice yourselves for the greater good, and have sex with me. Its as easy as that. You get something, I stay healthy and continue doing what I do to enrich the world by just being me. And, I'll save money by not having to go thru expensive carpal tunnel or tennis elbow surgeries. And just to be on the safe side, let me stress that this "Health Study" is only accepting (human)FEMALE participants.

The Unfound Variable In Math Is My Brain

2011-03-22T09:55:00.000-07:00

Yesterday when the boys came over after school... that sounds funny to me. Before the split between their mother and I, it was "the boys came home", but they live with her, so that's home now. So I wonder is my place still home to them as well, or just their dad's place (even though its the same place they called home for 7 years)?

Anyways, after they came here they whipped out their homework to do. It was a math day. For Corwyn, being in the first grade, things are pretty simple. Low numbers, adding and subtracting, counting money and the whole less than (<) greater than (>) and equal to (=) business. Yesterday, what he had to do was counting up money, and figuring out which coins shown on the page were needed to buy the illustrated picture with a price tag on it. Simple stuff, like I said. However, after going over one he was having issues. Two problems shown themselves to me, the first one I didn't fully understand, and that was his wanting to keep confusing quarters as nickels...but only some of the quarters. I'm not sure if we have solidified in his little brain that the bigger "nickel" is actually a quarter and worth 25 cents every single time, while the little nickel is in fact a nickel and worth a measly 5 cents. The other problem I fully understood. Right as the boys were getting started on their homework, another little boy came by wanting to play. Which of course means to little kids, most especially hyperactive little boys such as mine, that the brain has now been reprogrammed to think almost entirely about going outside to play. Math, even that involving money, is not only not that interesting, but hard to comprehend even in the simplest of circumstances. But with a little help focusing on the homework from good ol Dad, he managed to get through his worksheet for the day, and as soon as it was done he was out the door. He didn't bother to put it in his book bag to take home with him so he'd have it to turn into his teacher the next day, it literally floated slowly down onto the end table next to the couch, landing sometime shortly after he was already a good 25 feet outside with his little buddy. I would say I've been there, but I was the type of kid who ran out of school so fast at the end of the day, that not only did any unfinished schoolwork not get taken home, but I had actually arrived home 3 to 4 minutes prior to the bell ringing that signified the end of the school day. I defy any physics teacher or those guys running CERN to figure out the possibility of how I performed this amazing feat.

And then it was on to reviewing one of the older boy's (JOSH) math test. Now Josh is in the 6th grade, and compared to 1st grade, the difficulty level has exponentially increased. No easy A's counting money. No we're talking about long division, fractions, algebraic equations and all that other fun horseshit...most of which will never again be used beyond the halls of Academia. I did a LOT of math growing up, and I passed those classes, and true to form never used them again. Until yesterday, when I looked over Josh's test. He had gotten a 78% on the test, which I was expected to sign and have him return it to the teacher. SO naturally I looked it over, and we went over the mistakes he had made, and figured out what he had done wrong, which basically boils down to he doesn't really care, so he doesn't focus too hard on it, and I believe he already understands that he isn't going to be using this stuff later in life. Part of me is confused, because he is so good at his science class, which is basically word problem math put into action. But whatever, I guess he's going to have to figure that out on his own sooner or later.

So then we go to the extra credit portion of the test, which has 5 or 6 questions of its own. The first section asked questions in relation to a Venn Diagram. He got some questions right, and a couple wrong...of which I couldn't see how he got any of them wrong, until I noticed that what I thought was a right answer was indeed wrong, due to the Venn diagram being in a box, with an extra figure in the corner. Apparently Dad needs to focus as well. So we got that figured out. Then we had to figure out probability of a coin landing in a circle on a square mat, figuring out the area of each. Much to my dismay, they represented PI as a fraction (22/7) instead of the commonly used, and much easier to use number (3.14) we all learned growing up. So we had to figure out this probability with the fractions. It took a bit of figuring out, but we got the right answer. Or rather I figured it out after showing him how to make serious mistakes first. Because I'm a math idiot.

And then finally it was onto finding variables to solve equations. He answered one, and left the other blank. The one he answered, I saw absolutely no work done on it, but somehow he decided "7" was a good answer. I asked about scratch paper, or calculators, none of which they had been allowed to use. For a boy whose mind is constantly moving from one thing to the next, he believed he had the ability, and that I had the wool pulled over my eyes far enough to believe, that he could solve the problem entirely in his head. Turns out, while Dad did not know how to figure out the problem correctly, he could figure out that 7 was a bad answer with a simple glance, and that there was no way in hell Josh did all that algebra in his head. Math is not Josh's strong suit, which is fine as long as he tries, but staring aimlessly about and deciding the answer to a complicated formula would come to him out of thin air was not going to cut the mustard. So we looked over the one he left blank, and in an attempt to show him that I had retained my school math knowledge (which once we got into the higher math consisted of someone else doing my daily work in exchange for me doing their chemistry lab projects- which the only math I involved there was calculating how much I owed the school for destroying their equipment regularly), I have begun to understand that because I no longer participate in math classes, I have forgotten what little bit I learned.

SO I was subtracting from one side of the equation, adding to the other side, and trying to get the variable figured out, so we could solve the problem...then erasing what I did, adding on one side, adding on the other, ERASE ERASE ERASE, subtracting on one side, subtracting on the other, and AHA, I have found the number. "You see, Josh?" I asked, "If you do it like that, it will work out neatly." Then I plugged the number in, and my equations didn't line up. This elicited a small chuckle at my very apparent algebraic incompetence. I wanted to say something about how its much funnier that he's actually being told how to do the stuff and he doesn't get it, than his dad not knowing how to do something right that he hasn't even contemplated in 15 years or so. But, I left the thought in my head, mostly because if I was going to put him and his laughing at me in their rightful place, I'd probably better have half an idea what the hell I am talking about first. As it turns out, I didn't even begin to have half a clue. So on the notebook paper we were using I left a note to the teacher that she's going to have to send example work home on how to do equations, because Josh's Dad is a moron who can't even help out with much of the 6th grade math without much difficulty. We'll see if she follows through with that, or leave me wondering if her and the other math teachers get together in the teacher lounge laughing hysterically at the fact that an almost 32 year old man can't do 6th grade level math.

Here's the best way to find your friggin variable!!!:

A Tale of Two Friendships

2011-03-09T07:18:00.000-08:00

WARNING: this may be a long post. To my friends with ADHD, try to follow along, and if you can't well, I love you anyways.

As we go through life, we often find ourselves with different sets of friends through each phase of life. You have the friends you went to school with, the friends you work with, the friends who grew up with you in the same neighborhood. Old friends, new friends, lost friends, ex-friends, and acquaintances. If you look at any given person's facebook profile, or email contact list, you may very well find hundreds of different friends. Along with family, that list probably contains a cross-section of people from every one of those categories. How you made friends with, or ended friendships with them varies as much as each individual person. I've had a lot of friends over the years, some I still see from time to time, others I haven't seen in years, and others yet that are friends almost strictly through the internet. You know the kind, people you interact with constantly online and get along well with. Enough so that if you actually met in person, you could go have a beer with, or coffee or soda for you non-drinkers, and carry on a conversation with them that would make onlookers assume you've been friends all your lives.

If you're lucky, you find yourself a friend or two in life that stick with you for life. No matter where you go, what you do, how long you may have been apart, that bond of friendship endures it all. Differences of opinion make no difference to the friendship. Honesty will always come out, especially when your friend thinks what ever you said or did was quite possibly the stupidest thing imaginable. And while a dose of that honesty may irritate the hell out of you, the very fact that they weren't afraid to tell you that you were wrong is always appreciated, and only further serves to strengthen your friendship. It builds the loyalty between you, and shows the commitment towards each other, despite any differences, because you see the integrity and credibility your friend displays.

Honesty, Loyalty, and Commitment. These words used to mean something across the broad spectrum, and adhering to these qualities would earn you respect, even among your adversaries, but especially amongst your friends. Now these terms are more likely to apply to a dog rather than a human. To display these qualities may make you the nice guy everyone likes, but it wont necessarily get you anywhere in the world in a material success sort of way. I try to live these qualities as best as I can, towards not only my good friends, but to even the most casual of friends. Some days I feel more like an old soul born into a soulless generation, who view these terms as mere words and cliches, and will ditch them as qualities if it means getting whatever they may be after in the moment.

I've been lucky enough in my life to have two people in my life who have reciprocated these characteristics when it comes to me. One is a man, one is a woman. They have been with me for a long time, through a variety of situations.

The man, is my lifelong friend, Jed. We've literally been together since the diaper years. When my family moved out to Iowa from California shortly after my younger sister was born, they somehow hooked up with his parents, who are basically a second set of parents to me and have been all my life. For Jed and I, when it seemed life at home sucked, we went to the other one's place. It was a small town, the doors were always unlocked, and for us, there was no need for knocking before entering. Now that could be scary for our young minds walking into a possible nude parent in the open kind of situation, but I think the frequency of our visits encouraged our parents to keep their clothes on. Well, during the day, anyways. Jed's dad, at night when we would be sleeping over, didn't much care. With a house full of nothing but boys, when he got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, he wasn't covering up for anybody. And the path to the bathroom always seemed to go right in front of the TV we were watching. I've seen way more of Dad #2 than I ever cared to see.

When Jed's parents went through divorce, he came to me. This was my first real exposure to the idea, at least in real life and that close to home. Being maybe a teenager, it's not like I had any words of wisdom to make up for my lack of experience in that arena. But as his friend, I was there to let him vent, re-direct his mind, whatever, I was just there. Later in life as adults, when I went through a rough patch in my married life, I went to him. He could relate, and offer advice to me, let me vent my frustrations out on him, and just be there for me, making sure I didn't go take a dive off the deep end and do something stupid and permanent that I may or may not live to regret down the road. He gave me a safe zone to stay while I worked things out in my own mind. He definitely kept me centered, and did his best to make sure I stayed on the straight and narrow. He lives two states away from me now, has a beautiful wife and soul mate, and they recently adopted two beautiful little girls to make their family complete. We still talk, and see each other on visits from time to time, picking up where we left off, as though we'd just been together the day before. He has never been afraid to be honest with me and tell me when I'm being stupid. His loyalty shown through brightly when we were teenagers and I ran away for a few days, leaving him hanging with a paper route to do by himself, with no car (and I cashed out our collected money..oops), and at the mercy of both our dads. I never told him what I was up to, but when questioned, not only did he not give me up (because he couldn't), he went a step further and made sure they knew, at risk to his own life, that even if he knew anything he wasn't going to rat his friend out. His only really serious beef with me over the entire deal was that I didn't bring him along. He's my best friend, my brother for life. I love the guy- and before you use your words against me later- that love is in an entirely non-homosexual way.

The woman friend, we'll call her "Sara". This part is going to be a doozy. My thoughts will be honest, but a lot will be withheld for reasons of both privacy and decorum. I guess I should start at the beginning with her. We met at a park in Sac City, while she was in town visiting her relatives. My initial interest wasn't even with her, but a friend she had brought along for the trip. I, on one very rare occasion made the approach to the girls. Sort of. I used my buddy Jed's bike, because I didn't want to embarrass myself the first go around by showing off my mom's old John Deere bike I was using until I could get my new bike. I rode past the girls, eyeing them a on a swing set, with full intention of hitting them up. However, they saved my scared bacon, when they called me to quit chickening out and come over and talk to them. Have I ever mentioned I'm a bit on the shy side, especially when it comes to girls? So I took interest in her darker haired friend, because well, I prefer darker haired ladies over the blonds (which she denies she was, but I know what my eyes saw). They lived a few hours away, so a normal courtship was clearly out of the picture, but when you're 14 or 15, who really cares.

The letter writing (which was the extent of our relationship) between Sara's friend and I fizzled out pretty quickly. then one day out of the blue I get a letter from Sara. I didn't actually know her last name, so I was a bit confused as to who was sending me a letter, but not having much in the way of mail coming to the house in my name, I was all too glad to have something to read. Instead of me seeking out her as my friend, she sought me out on her own terms. And I'm really glad she did. Before I knew it, Sara and I exchanged a flurry of letters, quite possibly being responsible for keeping the United States Postal Service profitable all by ourselves. We exchanged letter so often, that when we ran out of things to say about the events in our lives, or our thoughts, I would occasionally find myself with a portion of a letter dated for one day that was a repeat of the same sentence "This is my new (insert color here) pen I'm trying out." She had 7 new pens she used, a couple were duplicate colors. But she was committed to making sure I got mail, which always made me feel important. Dad got bills in the mail from people committed to taking his money. I got letters from someone who didn't want my money (well maybe she did, but I didn't have much washing dishes for $3/hr after spending it on stamps and phone calls), but just wanted my friendship. I felt pretty friggin special. One major problem for our little pen-pal relationship we had going on was that her mother did not like me back then (I couldn't tell you her opinion of me now, some 15 years later). But Sara, being Sara, wrote me even though I couldn't write her back because her mom would confiscate the letters I sent. Eventually her loyalty to our friendship led her through the repeated process of setting me up with her friends' addresses (this changed from time to time), so that I could respond to her letters and she'd have something to read. To hand write out 8 pages per letter was nothing, and occasionally some would hit almost 20 pages. These of course were written over multiple days and sent out together. Otherwise, I think we'd both be suffering from permanent hand cramps from all that writing. Eventually her mother relented after finding out she was still communicating with me, and the fact that I was in Oklahoma attending Basic Training at Ft. Sill. The postal stamp confirmed where the letters were coming from, so apparently she thought her daughter safe from my evil boy ways with a few states between us.

We had a running commentary on our family life and parental woes, reasons why the world is a stupid place, the fact that I was (in my opinion) an athletic god among men (if you compared me to babies that haven't learned to crawl yet anyways), while she was unable to even do a single pull up. She really was such a girl about it. We'd discuss our plans for the future. I had deluded my own mind into thinking my future was this life of grand design. We discussed our flings and romances with other people. You see, she and I were kind of like the couple that never was. We were very close in that aspect. While respecting our right to date other people we could actually see, we often didn't much care for each others' significant others of the moment. She was the girl, I never dated, but still put her up on a pedestal to measure all other girls to the level of standards I assigned to Sara. But eventually, while Sara was always there for me, and would always in my mind be "my girl", I found another girl, who would eventually become my wife and the mother of my children. And true to nature, Sara eventually found herself a man to marry and they now have a new baby. He's a cute baby too.

The other day, while visiting my parents, my mom brought me down a box I had given her to keep a LONG time ago. It contained letters from people to me from when I lived in California and in the military. It contained a collection of notes and letters from my (soon to be ex-) wife. And then there were a couple of envelopes that contained the majority of letters Sara had written me over the years. I poured over those letters in no particular order. I was transported back all those years to before my marriage, remembering what life used to be with fond memories of that little girl I met at the park who stole my mailing address from her friend just to write me. I also found a reminder of her honesty in dealing with me. After I had a quick rendezvous the night before I was sworn into the National Guard, that resulted in my losing my virginity, she cussed me out in one of those letters, and swore hideous things about the girl that took my v-card away from me the only night I knew her.

We've met up from time to time throughout the years. I once even stayed at her place over a weekend to visit after we hadn't seen each other in a few years, as she showed me around her town and the wonders of living in frigid ass Minnesota (where people don't drink for fun, but to help stay warm). Even though our lives took so many different turns and paths, we remained loyal to the friendship we started a little more than half our lives ago. She's met my family, and maybe someday I'll get to meet her husband and their baby. Her husband is obviously a really good guy, considering she actually decided to marry him. He also has a rare spot that most men in her life never held: I never pre-judged him. Which is probably a good thing. I'd hate to think she married someone I didn't like, especially over something as dumb as he's another guy in her life. I'm not so sure I can say the same thing in reverse. But she never let our friendship go, even when I was being a jerkwad and concentrated only on my own life. And for that I love her, like always (and again, in a non-homosexual way...I am after all a lesbian trapped in a man's body). She really does embody what it means to be a best friend.

I'm sure I had other ways of going on and in conclusion to this post, but, I doubt I can really improve upon what I have written down. So I'll leave it at that.

Two New Bloggers

2011-03-03T08:08:00.000-08:00

I recently somewhat cleaned up my list of blogs I follow. I deleted a couple I really don't follow anymore and replaced them with two new bloggers.

The First one you will see that is new is Accomplished Idler . This is my Uncle George, the free-spirited musician. He lives up in Northern Idaho, and as with the title of his blog, he is truly an accomplished idler. Read his post and you'll see he never followed the path society may have deemed one that would lead him to success. However, he has still managed to carve out a life for himself, and one of his own making that he enjoys, rather than doing what "the man" may have tried to manipulate him toward with all those cheesy school films that seemed to have all been narrated by the same guy. And that business about crap you did going on your "permanent record", even if such a set of files existed, I doubt very much he would've given much of a damn, and still ended up where he is today. With a family he loves, going hunting and fishing, teaching and playing music.

I am envious to a point. I have spent most of my life chasing after a few precious dollar bills, only to give them away to someone else who had a better scheme for collecting them than I did. I also tended to toe the line a little more, adhering to all that adult responsibility bullshit I was taught. I'm still working on finding that true passion in life that I can take advantage of and make it work for me, so that the work I do for money seems more enjoyable rather than a necessary evil. Plus, Uncle George has slightly better scenery than I do, living up around the mountains as opposed to in the midst of a giant farm dotted with the occasional town that makes up most of Iowa.

The second blogger goes by the alias Hicks Mason and the blog on my list is entitled "Now Wait A Minute...". I'd give you his real name, but the guy is paranoid enough to believe that you may be with the government, and if you find him, you will take him to some undisclosed location and torture him with vegan butter, and other unnatural crap. He is a member of the Alabama National Guard, and also sadly, a big Alabama Crimson Tide fan. Those of us in the Mookified compound try hard not to hold that particular aspect (being a Bama fan, not the Guard Duty) against him too much. Not being a huge fan of any SEC teams, we still prefer to see Auburn Roll the Tide back over Big Red and shut em up. Not likely...something about Alabama fans, they don't listen very well! (Sorry Hicks, I had to say it).

I guess you would consider his blog theme to be that one of Almost-Conspiracies. He's not way out there on the fringe like some wackos, but he just looks at things from his own common person perspective and lets his rant land where it may.

So if you get a chance, Go check out their blogs, leave a comment if you'd like, and become a follower to stay updated on them! You'll find them in my "Other Blogs to Consider" list on the right hand side, or just click their links in this post to get there and read on!

Spinning My Wheels

2011-02-18T10:48:00.000-08:00

Today I finally went to have my tire fixed. I ran over a nail two weeks ago, and have just put up with having to add a little air to replace what was lost by a super slow leak. But today, I decided I might as well get it taken care of before I go and ruin the tire completely at some point while out driving. Knowing my luck this would happen only when its really cold, really snowing, or pouring down rain like during the Noahic Flood. I figured while I was there I'd have them replace my wiper blades, since those things are in tatters. The guy comes back after 15 minutes, and tells me the wiper blades for my car are not in their stock. Apparently my car, a Saturn Aura, takes some sort of special blades, and they cost $24 a piece. Now I'm not the most mechanical guy in the world, as anyone who knows me will tell you. But c'mon $24 PER blade?? Special kind of wiper blade?

It's a friggin Saturn, it's a goddamn GM product. It's barely any different from a Chevy Malibu. The blades are just a simple piece of rubber. $24?!?!?!? You have got to be kidding me. My wallet, made of leather, costs less than that, and is clearly much more fragile than those wiper blades given the size of my paychecks, and the motherfuckers are trying to ruin my shit $24 at a time. I told them I'd look elsewhere rather than let them triple my bill for fixing my tire. Almost two hours, they remove a nail from my tire and do the patch job...after tax: $21.09. To add two wipers THAT THEY'D HAVE TO ORDER AND MAKE ME COME BACK: an additional $48 plus tax. You've got to be fucking kidding me. Speaking of ruining my shit...

The Colonel. He ruins the fine mass crafted cheap ass wood veneer that substitutes for a good door frame. He likes to use his claws on everything. The frames, the couch, the chair, the friggin carpet, my arms, hands, legs. I finally clipped his front nails... he's still a pain in the ass, but at least he doesn't hook into my skin as much and tear out half my forearm on a mere swipe of the claws. And it's not just his claws that ruin things. His bathroom habits are quite noticeable. The cat craps out his own body weight a day, even if he doesn't eat much. His piss could be used to melt through locked steel doors. It all has the great superpower of being able to overpower kitty litter of all brands. I have yet to find a quality brand that does the job they say they do. Odor reducing (I'm scared to think how bad it would be before hitting the odor reducing stuff), indoor, multiple cats (he poops enough for a bakers dozen worth of the little mangy bastards), clumping (his piss creates huge wet, smelly useless bricks of litter), spring fresh stepping kitty excrement killing sand powder. Doesn't matter. They all fail miserably. That's right, my cat is so powerful his poop and pee have reduced all of our scientific know-how in odor reducing to ashes. Yes, I have a small apartment, with relatively little ventilation, but you'd think we have something that would kill the odor. And CAT HAIR...fuck. This cat sheds enough hair to outfit 3 Chemo patients with a new wig, EACH DAY. And he doesn't look like he has lost a single hair. Until you look at my recliner, the couch, my fuzzy sweatshirt, the horse blanket on my bed, every damn spot he curls up on the carpet. Pet the little bastard and your hand looks more like that of the Abominable Snowman rather than a normal human hand!

I have joked about exiling my executive officer, but it's all been jokes up to this point. Some days I look at all the shit he ruins and I'm about ready to give him the boot. But, sadly, I like the Colonel too much to just give him up. He has his own unique personality, and I don't think too many people would really and truly "get" the Colonel and what he's about. He'd need a patient and understanding family to deal with, and probably on a two week probationary period of ownership just so he can get used to them and the new environment, while they get to find out if they really do have the patience to deal with a feline so pretentious he gave himself the title and name, Colonel Beauregard Sterling Lovell.

As a kitten, it was he who said this would be his name. I didn't think of that on my own. Sure, I may be creative, but that is just a bit beyond my bullshit-stretching abilities. The cat really does think that highly of himself. So he sheds, shits and claws the crap out of everything...because ultimately its his home, and I'm just allowed to remain here to feed him, offer myself up as a scratching post, and to pet him when he feels the need. But hey... looking on the bright side, at least he doesn't have fleas...anymore.

And Mother Nature has apparently decided to fuck with me too. Yesterday was beautiful out. Sunny, warm. Today is sunny, cooler but not too bad, but with a bit of a wind. Tomorrow will cool down a bit more...and on thru the weekend, into rain, then snow on Monday and friggin COLD! Apparently Mother Nature doesn't give a damn about that overgrown beaver seeing his shadow or not. It's Iowa and we WILL have winter...ALL OF IT! She decided to warm thing sup a bit, just to melt some stuff down and prepare the rivers and creeks to flood like crazy. Then, just to be on the safe side...lets add more rain and snow on top of it. Oh, and let's make sure that I have to work when it all goes to shit. Cuz I love working in crappy weather...yeah that's it.

Oh, and as has been mentioned in other forums, and is quite apparent from previous pictures of me, I rarely make a photo's quality go up by virtue of having my mug in it. A friend went through hundreds of physical photos and we found 3 acceptable ones of me. Couple of them 9-11 years old, and one that is maybe in the last 3 or 4 yrs. Nothing much in that department as far as new stuff that would qualify me as a photogenic face. I have a digital camera I got from my mom, but it needed batteries. The cheap alkaline ones pretty much die by the mere act of putting them in the camera. Last week while taking the boys to use some gift cards from Christmas, I bought some lithium batteries. I watched them go into the bag. I saw them here when I got home. And now I can't find the damn things ANY where. I didn't even open up the package. They just grew legs and walked out of here...of that I am convinced. So now I have to go out and buy some more, and then find someone who's good at tricking a camera into taking good pictures, so I can get something new to throw up that doesn't seem to emphasize my double chin, closed eyes, or some creepy look on my face. You know, so I can maybe convince someone or another that I might actually be normal...well at least until they actually talk to me. But I can at least fake out the facebook friends who've never met me as of yet.

Valentine's Day 2011

2011-02-13T14:52:00.000-08:00

Even though it's not until tomorrow, and I no longer have my kid's mother as my Valentine like I did the previous 14 years, I know exactly what my plans are. I'm working...Apparently I heart my boss. And he'd better heart me back because I also offered to work next Friday which is normally my first night of two off during the week.

However, I had my boys with me this weekend. And I was rescued a well, by my buddy Miah and his wife Holly. They had us over for supper both Firday and Saturday night. The boys got a little Valentine gift bag from them (probably only because of Holly. Miah is a guy afterall and we don't consider such things without a LOT of help), so they got a bit of candy to boot, in addition to Pizza delivery Friday, and a nice meal grilled by Miah Saturday night. And Soda...lets not forget that they were allowed to have some soda this weekend.

I too was treated to a nice lil Valentines gifting as well. Apparently, my friends think I stink or something. I got not just one, but TWO different colognes to add to my collection of one brand that I have been using. I guess my stuff only covers up the fact that I only shower once a year for so long. Its as though my own funk has become immune to the current stuff. Guess body odor works like bacteria in building up its resistance. Someone once suggested maybe showering more frequently, especially since I don't have to pay the water bill in the apartment, but I'm sure you understand that such an idea is born out of pure madness! I mean who really wants to waste perfectly good clean water just to wash off a nasty funk that's only goign to return again?? It's kind of like those people who actually bother to make their bed in the morning after they get up...it's just a pointless exercise in futility since you're going to mess it all up again later on!

So yeah... I now have new cologne to sport...I sure hope my boss likes it, since he is the one who gets to spend the actual Valentines Day with me this year!

Domestic Manifesto of a Mook (title by Eric Stone)

2011-01-31T07:33:00.000-08:00

So I had a relatively productive weekend. It was my weekend to have the kids. My time with the boys actually started Wednesday after they got out of school. Their mother had to be out of town for something or another, and didn't need to pull the kids out of school, so they spent their nights over here at my place. My 18 year old niece, Kristi, was gracious enough to come spend Wednesday and Thursday night into Friday morning with me, so the kids had someone here while I worked my overnight job, as well as kick them out of bed and off to school in the mornings.

So even during the school day I had my niece around to keep me company. Even if half the time I was up, she was sleeping on the couch. Then Friday came. I hung out here for a bit, before taking Kristi back to her parents, doing some laundry while I was over there, and then I had the kids for my regularly scheduled weekend once they got out of school. We just hung out Friday night, and then my parents showed up Saturday. They took us all out for lunch, then we came back her and hung out for awhile. Mom and I went over the ideas for which pictures would be hung up where, and what might be needed to get things all purtied up for turning this apartment into more of a home-like environment, rather than a storage shed I just live in and keep my stuff. While we did that, the boys kept their grandpa entertained while playing video games.

Then Sunday morning rolled around. After getting a sufficient amount of coffee in me, I drove mom to the Walmart and the Goodwill to pick up supplies and everything. We went over how to lay everything out. The kitchen is mostly done now, I got new blinds put up on the bedroom windows, including a curtain for the boys' room, the bathroom sink cabinet hinge fixed so it doesn't fall on the floor when I open it, or try to open the drawers next to it. I've gotten started on the family picture wall, but I still have to go through loose photos to put in the big collage-matted frame. I'm putting off the John Wayne wall for now, as I have to move the entertainment center to get to that section, which is a TOTAL pain in the butt. But, it's coming along decently. Even added some botanical flavor to the place. I wonder how long it will take the cat to eat that all to hell?

So we went out to Taco Bell for lunch, then came back to the apartment and Mom and Dad headed for home. A little while later the boys' mother came to pick them up. It was 4:45pm. I had to work at 8:00pm last night. So I had 3 hours basically where it was just me and the cat...who was of course napping after the excitement of too many people in the house for an extended period of time for his liking. And I noticed something...a deafening silence. I had people in my house since Wednesday afternoon, and suddenly nobody. I had never heard silence so pronounced before until that moment. I got very lonely, very quickly. Although I didn't look forward to going to work for a 12 hour shift, I welcomed it to a degree, if for nothing else than to distract myself with the job from that lonely feeling.

The Fun Ends One Way Or Another

2011-01-26T07:54:00.000-08:00

In examining relationships, it seems there are a few phases. Some more exciting than others. First you have the phase where you notice her, and then do something really cool, odd, dumb, completely stupid, or crazy to make sure she notices you.

Then if things work out the way you want, you have that whole getting to know each other/courtship phase. This always seems to be one of the more interesting portions of any relationship. You always look forward to hear from them or see them. Everything is exciting, and even the dumb stuff you look forward to.

After awhile once you've really gotten to know them, it either stays good, or sometimes things fizzle, even if just in your own mind. You get bored with them, or decide once you really know them, that quite frankly the other person sucks and you don't know what you saw in them in the first place. For some, the beginning part of the relationship is and was the best part you would ever have. The build up and excitement of 'what comes next' keeps you going. But then maybe after awhile, life allows you to blend the relationship into the mix, and everything is mundane. You still have your job, you still have your bills, and work and sleep.

Some couples make it past this point and life and their relationship merges beautifully. And in some cases, it survives all the way into marriage, and kids and careers and a new house and pets, and all that family-encompassing stuff. Some of those marriages even make it into old age, where the couple ends up sticking it out to that whole 'til death do us part' business. And that's always really great. Sure, they had their ups and downs throughout their entire relationship, where they were madly in love one day, and bored to tears with their relationship at other times. But they honored their commitment and stuck it out, ultimately loving each other to the very end.

However in this country at least, it seems about half or more marriages anymore never make it that far. You have your Hollywood marriages, marriages of convenience, or due to a baby coming into the world "unexpectedly". And sooner or later they all end up splitting under the ever popular idea of "irreconcilable differences", or in plain friggin english of a whiners voice "it's too much work, or I just don't want to work on it". What a friggin waste of time. Who the hell ever put it in your head that marriage is easy ought to be shot.

Life is exciting, and life is boring at times. Marriage and relationships are the same way. We all look at someone else's life, or at someone outside our relationship and wonder why the grass over there looks greener. Sometimes it may actually be, but usually its just perception. those who jump the fence often find themselves looking elsewhere again after grazing the other pasture for awhile and wondering why it isn't as green as it used to be when they weren't there yet.

Who knows what drives people to think this way. Some odd crave for more? Or maybe some internal drive that points away from monogamy? I don't know, and a big lazy part of me doesn't care enough to really look into that. They already pour millions into studies to look at the why and babble their results to whoever will listen and to get published, so they can get a few million more to do another useless study that doesn't ultimately affect human behavior so much as it just notes the behavior.

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if we would just stop from doing things to progress beyond that honeymoon stage of the first days together. If we avoided the actual involvement of getting together for sex, or moving in together, would our relationships manage to keep the same excitement that much longer, or would we just seek out someone else who's ready to put out, or move in and start a family with us??

Maybe it's just easier to text people and talk a lot without ever actually doing. Sure, you'll miss somethings, but maybe it will also lead to less emotional letdown later, if and when someone decides to move on...

They say its better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Maybe to a degree, because you got to feel that ultimate high that love can bring you. But the question is, is it worth the pain of the ultimate low having your heart broken can bring you? And of course all the what-ifs that will undoubtedly accompany such a thing.

Technology and Viruses

2011-01-20T07:29:00.000-08:00

Times use to be a lot simpler. It used to be that when you brought home a TV dinner from the store, you preheated the oven (or not), and then stuck it in there to cook for 25-28 minutes (or until fully cooked). Then technology came along and we had microwaves. We ooh'd and aah'd over how quickly our meals were hot and ready to eat. Then one day we were extra hungry, so instead of the regular TV dinner, we bought a Hungry Man meal. And in our technology driven impatience get irritated that we are now spending almost 10 whole minutes or more for our meal to be ready instead of the 5 to 6 it takes for the normal sized TV dinners. Who knew that getting your old fashioned TV dinner into your mouth 20 almost 20 minutes quicker than it was when you were growing up would be a source of great consternation? Never mind the fact that you just took a big bite of the mashed potatoes straight away and spent 5 minutes with a stupid look on your face, your mouth open trying to suck in air, along with a cold drink because the mashed potatoes were so damned hot you thought you were going to set your mouth on fire!

Back in the 90's we were lucky to find a friend with the internet in his home. With that dial-up connection that kept telemarketers from bothering you, and you had access to all kinds of information without having to go to the library anymore was just so great. The technology came along and created broadband and high speed connections, which meant even more information coming even quicker. Then you go back home and see your parents in po-dunk nowhere, where the internet is still dial-up and you find yourself pissed off because your stupid friggin email won't load fast enough. You logged on at 8am, and sometime around noon you'll be able to see just how many emails you have in your inbox. It'll be 1pm or better before you even think about reading the first one, of 50! The damned post office could get correspondence between you and a friend faster than this stupid dial-up internet stuff! Hell the Pony Express could come back, pick up your handwritten documents in Maine and have them to your cousin in California, and return with a handwritten reply by the time your stupid email finally is accessible! And God forbid you clicked the wrong link... It'll be next Wednesday before you figure out what you did and get back to where you wanted to go online.

So you go back home, where you have your high speed internet, and you log into your email only to find the page loading even slower than it was on your parents dial-up connection. Apparently your porn viewing habits led you to a few viruses. Now everything you try to do on your computer only further bogs it down until it quits working altogether. And you know, you just know, that when you call in some tech support help, both over the phone and the in your home repair guy, that they are laughing to themselves about your porn addiction. They're going to run some tests and find out you have some oddly coded error that clearly points to your Goat in High Heels Porn fetish websites...you really are a sick bastard by the way, but hey, it's your money buddy!

As some of you know, I have acquired a cell phone in the past couple months. Something I swore I'd never do, and yet, I now ashamedly admit that it is convenient, especially since I don't have a land line anymore. Most people are probably thinking at this point, who needs a land line when you have a cell phone? Well, stuff it! I'm a bit old-fashioned, and I liked it that way. This is only changing out of necessity. Or at least that's what I'm telling myself. Although if I get a lower sperm count down the road, or get some brain cancer from irradiation out of my cell phone, CEOs, and a few dear cell-phone carrying friends of mine will surely die before I do...by my hands!

Then you have the capability to link your phone number and the internet together. I'm not talking about intertwining their separate functions together somehow, although I'm sure that can be done, but it's way above my pay grade to know how. I'm talking about how you can post someone's personal information online. Like your own.
Sometimes out of a perceived necessity, desperate times call for desperate measures. So, I'm going to expose myself a bit here purely for your entertainment at my expense.

Anyways, so there is this guy, we'll call "Craig", who made an online list that you can post ads on, as well as reply to other ads. You can post a notice of a garage sale you're having, or if you want to buy or sell your home, or you can do none of those and post an ad that you are on the meat market, or reply to an ad about somebody else who put themselves on the meat market. And with a little bit of luck two perfectly good strangers can hook up and satisfy whatever needs or desires they wish to have fulfilled. Because hey, whats a good time and a couple of painful and possibly incurable STDs between strangers? Now I'm not saying I did this, but I'm also not not saying I did this.

Okay so I did this (Clearly I would never outlast any enhanced interrogation techniques by trained operatives). After a long relationship with at least semi-regular adultish activity (sex for those of you who couldn't follow my drift), it has been a long dry spell for me. Being put in a position of non-attachment, I figured what the hell. So I posted an ad and provided my contact information right there online in the form of my cellphone number in the event people wanted to bypass the more anonymous email replies. The email replies were pretty dumb. Mostly just some lame ass person trying to get you to sign up to some dating/sex/webcam website and pay money for a fantasy in your own head that you could've done with less effort before you end up just taking matters into your own hands so to speak and applying a bit of elbow grease...um, or something...

However, some real people seem to exist and reply to your ads. Some thru the email system, but a few end up texting me on my phone. SCORE!!! Mookie is in business! Well, sort of but not really. Had a few females on the line for a moment or two, but then they mysteriously disappeared without a trace... Oh well, guess you can't miss what you never had. Then I got a text one night just after I get off work, and its another female. And she sends a picture to my phone. I'm staring at a midget looking troll of a woman. Look, yes, I'm desperate for a little action, but c'mon, even a guy with face made for radio has some standards. Maybe that makes me shallow, but ask me if I care. I had a hot wife, and I'm only going to lower my standards so far before I say thanks but no thanks. And then she starts texting dirty to me...ugh! I just ignored it, as by this time I'm trying to drive the icy streets of Des Moines to do my job. I don't need the stimulation of what this troll must look like when stimulated with a little battery operated device to aid her....BLECH!

But then I get this other text another time... Things are progressing decently, and the person wants to meet me, and SOON! Details are worked out...logistically anyways. I forgot to ask a couple VERY important questions of a person who found me via the internet. Like say, a facial pic? And maybe ACTUAL Gender???? I posted on a men for women. I was naive enough to believe that only women would respond. When I'm getting close to this person's house, I sent them a text letting them know. Then the answer to one unanswered question is offered up with the simple reply: "I'm a guy."

WELL NOW! I whipped a u-turn and reversed course. Look, if you're gay, that's fine. Be gay, and have a good time with it. But don't be looking to hook and turn a straight guy out. Have some common fucking courtesy for pete's sake! I informed the guy that now the "she" I thought he was turned out to be a he, I was out. He then attempted to justify the okayedness of him performing an oratorical performance for me. (It's only..., and No one will have to know...)

Yeah no thanks. I'LL know, and that's too many people that don't want to know. Again I have no problem with gay people. Some really good friends of mine are gay. I'm happy for them, and we all accept each other for who we are and what our preferences in life might be. However, the way this dude led me on as though he was a female almost all the way up to his doorstep...well to hell with being PC, that is outright faggotry in the most evil and despicable way. And yes, I said faggotry. You don't like it, tough, deal with it, I'm not here to avoid offending people. There are gay people and there are faggots. And a gay person trying to turn out a straight guy with a bit of deception followed by trying to reason it out as to why it should happen anyways...that's a faggot, plain and simple. They have a men for men section, and women for women section. If you want to go to the list made by Craig to get in on the meat market action to find someone of your gender, you have those options plainly listed. I'm just glad for both me and that guy that he didn't let me ring the doorbell to his house. Because he would have at least ended up in the hospital and I in jail. And no, before anyone mentions the idea of Mookie committing a hate crime, no it isn't a hate crime. He would be beaten for his deceptive and lying ways, not his sexual orientation. I still shudder a bit thinking about it, but it is my own idiocy that got me there. IF I should choose to go the route of trying to obtain some meaningless satisfaction with another willing adult participant through the same medium, I will most definitely be requesting the gender AND pictorial proof of this. And even then, I may drag a buddy along with me just to make sure its kosher at the meet up.

SO yeah, technology is wonderful, but it can lead down some bad roads if you choose to go those routes...at least I didn't pick up a virus along the way

Like Father, Like Son

2011-01-16T16:04:00.000-08:00

This past weekend was my weekend to have the kids. They came over Friday after school to start off their full weekend with Dad (that's me, for you ADHD people).

The first night, we had ourselves a movie night. Whole pizzas for each of us (and I wonder why I have a gut? go figure), a soda, some popcorn, and for the movie I had gone through Netflix to obtain a copy of Despicable Me. Quite a good night, and we all spent most of the night laughing our butts off at the hilarity of the movie. Then came bedtime.

Fast forward a bit, to Saturday afternoon. The boys came to me and wanted to go down to a park a little ways from the apartment, which borders along a local walking trail and a creek. It was 2:30pm, so I told them to take a watch and be back by 4:00pm. About 3:30 or so I hear them in the hallway, and in the door they burst. I see my oldest, Josh, standing there, soaked from pretty much the neck down, and shivering. It turns out, in the wisdom that God gave all 12 year olds, he decided to walk on the ice of the creek. Now this creek isn't some little 3 or 4 foot wide cut in the ground, but more like a small river. He went out on the ice, and had decent luck by the edge, but decided to venture a bit further out to a point where the ice decides to eat little boys. Through the ice and into the frigid water he went until he found himself underwater up to the bellybutton. In order to pull himself up and out, he braces his hands and pushes off on the ice, only to have his hands and arms go through and also into the water. His little brother was a bit scared, but Josh managed to get himself out of the water, and they proceeded to come home.

Now this walk is probably about 3/8 to a half mile long to get back home. Smart boy that he is, decides to stop in at a nearby gas station along the way to at least get a quick dose of warm air. Given the super cold temperature outside, this was a pretty smart idea. And then they got home. Naturally I had him strip down out of the wet clothes. His poor little hands were frozen stiff, and I had to help him unbutton his jeans so he could get out of them, and into a lukewarm bath he went. The boy's skin was red as a lobster. WE got him warmed up some, and into dry clothes before bundling him into a mess of thick blankets on the couch. Then it was time for some hot chocolate for the boys to help warm up from the inside out.

When he first told me what happened, before he got to the details, I just shook my head, and flashed back about 20 years. I was playing on the Raccoon River under the Ahrens Street bridge, and thought it was quite a deal to go skating out onto the ice myself. That is until I fell through. Unlike Josh, I only went in to my knees. But I had a good mile long walk home in cold temperatures as well. And I didn't suffer nearly as bad since it was only my feet and legs that were soaked instead of my whole body.

While I told Josh the lesson about going out onto the ice over a body of water, I'm pretty sure he had learned it and gone over it in his head plenty before he even made it to me. Inside I was laughing just a little bit. Clearly the danger was over since he made it home and I could get him warmed up before Hypothermia overtook him. If there was anyway to link the child to me, it is the adventures and mishaps he gets himself into. Even though he's grown up in the city, and I in a small town, he's managed to get himself into nearly identical predicaments that I had encountered growing up. I can only imagine the things he hasn't told me about, just as I withheld from my parents. In a few years, if he follows my lead, I'll have to be expecting calls from the hospital, the school, and the police about the whereabouts and scrapes the boy gets himself into. All part of growing up as a boy I suppose. God help him when his mother gets wind of these things. He'll find himself hiding out at my place, asking me to either run interference with or to "not tell mom". Of course I may run interference, but if I try to complete withhold the information from his mother, God help ME!

Welcome to 2011

2011-01-04T10:25:00.000-08:00

Okay, so first post of the year. Lots of stuff going on, or not going on. Not really sure how things got to where they are, but they are here, and I'm going to try to figure them out.

1. I have a cell phone. Yes, I know. I said I would never ever own one. Turns out it became a bit of a necessity, and I have to thank my buddy and brother Stew for lending me a hand on this one and providing me with a line on his account. And NO, you can't have my number. Just because I own one, does not mean I'm going to use it. I'll keep it around as a paper weight between calls from my parents or my kids' school.

2. I have been without computer or Internet for awhile now. I can thank my mom and dad, and our friend Steve, for having an extra desktop that found its way to the Mookified Compound. I can thank my Aunt Denise and Uncle Bill for setting me up with 3 months of Internet at no cost to me, while I get back on my feet, financially speaking. So now you can all get your regular updates on the Colonel wreaking havoc and unleashing (ironically enough) the Dogs of War! As well as the occasional updates on what the young Mooks are up to in an effort to maintain a steady presence of hilarity in life.

3. The most recent Census has the Mookified Compound down to 2 full time citizens, now, with 2 other dual-citizenship residents in the form of the Little Mooks. Since the cat is out of the bag with both families, I guess I can get it off my chest now. I have recently found myself to be a single father, as my wife relocated to her own apartment along with our sons. There is no need to speculate on the details, as those are private, and fault always lays with both adult parties. She is still the mother of my children, and essentially off limits when speaking to me. You're free to hold whatever opinions about either of us, but I don't need to hear about it. We are working together to make sure the kids can lead as normal a life as possible, given the two-home situation now, and we are relating amicably. It was a nice long run, of just shy of 14 years since our first date, and 10 1/2 years of marriage. Somewhere along the line, the flames burned out. I guess I got complacent and took her for granted for far too long without realizing the path it would take us down. She is/was the love of my life, and it sucks, but it is what it is. I regret none of it (minus the fact that it took a wrong turn and ended), and will cherish the memories for the rest of my life. I can only wish her the best life has to offer from this point forward.

So I find myself in a slightly sparser (is that a word?) apartment. I have had great help from people in the form of well wishing, lending me a hand in moving furniture into here to make it a home, food,etc etc etc. So I set out to decorate it more in my own style, but not overboard. It is the abode of a single father, not a mere bachelor. But if you must know...yes there are a couple flats of ramen noodles, as there should be in any world that is halfway right. I keep them up high though, so the Colonel doesn't get any ideas about stealing and eating my ramen. He already just this morning tried to chew the power cord to the phone charger, and tried to shred my arm and hand up shortly after returning from work. I suspect a power struggle will ensue at some point. I have prepared and studied the latest techniques on smothering a cat in his sleep by an ancient Chinese wiseguy. Then maybe I'll get the recliner to myself, unless Josh is in the house. He seems to have taken it upon himself to lay claim to the recliner whenever I'm not sitting there.

So, here's to a new year, entirely new beginnings, and hoping for and working towards the best.

New (and exciting) Developments

2010-12-14T09:44:00.000-08:00

Well, a few things have been happening in my life as of recent.

Number One: I have increased my subscribers to this blog up to a whopping 8, yes I said EIGHT!, readers! I have doubled in just one year. Now many bloggers would say 8 is a pretty puny number, but for me, its something of note. There are millions of blogs on the internet, some are news sites with dedicated readership and professional development, others are company based, celebrity based, and of course your content bloggers who stay pretty specific to singular causes. For me, the blog gives me a chance to just throw my thoughts out into the wind on whatever random subject comes up. So, to have 8 people willing to subscribe, not just readers passing through in cyberspace, and regularly read what I, an essential nobody in terms of an already established broad popularity, have to say as at least semi-important, is kind of a big deal to me. I don't really care what any detractors might have to say about it.

Number Two: As I have noted in some forums, I have become increasingly despondent about my job. The hours always worked while we were a one car household, but now my wife has a car, which opens up more opportunity for me to get a daytime job, which would suck a lot less than the overnight thing. It will give me more time to spend with my family as opposed to being a bump on a log they occasionally meet from time to time. Plus, a different job might actually offer me perks such as paid vacation, so I don't have to figure out how to pay the bills if and when I take any time off. Along with maybe a decent livable salary? So I've compiled something resembling a resume, and applied for a few jobs in the area that offer decent wages and preferable daytime hours.
In addition to this, some of you know about my affinity for Denny's restaurants, a smaller number know my history with Denny's. I have recently sent in an advertising proposal to them, that might allow myself and a potential business partner gain more exposure through TV commercials. Of course that is ultimately up to Denny's marketing and corporate people. Most of the ideas are currently conceptual at this point, and this would be really stretching myself beyond my comfort zone. I don't even care to talk in front of small groups of people without having an urge to pee my pants as I run away and hide. Makes me feel like I'm throwing myself into a den of sharks, but hey...Gotta sell myself somewhere if I'm going to take control of my own future, and take care of my family better than I have up to this point. Might as well slap my mug onto television screens across America and on the internet!

Number Three: In about two weeks I get to meet my two new 'nieces' that my buddy Jed and his wife, Naomi, have recently adopted from a Christian orphanage in Ethiopia. It has been a long road for them, but they made it, and I am proud of them for reaching their goal to be parents. I have spoken with Jed recently, who is quite ecstatic about being a dad. I don't blame him. I used to hate kids, and then I had my own, and they are amazing little creatures to watch grow up before your very eyes. They do really funny and crazy stuff all the time, usually far weirder than anything WE ever did growing up.

At A Loss For A Title

2010-12-12T14:31:00.000-08:00

I thought I might title this one, Last Words Of The Year, but as many of my readers know, I'm a little sporadic in how often I decide to post.

Today will be a more serious topic than many of my posts, maybe a little philosophical.

Winter has officially arrived. While other areas have been hit a lot harder, we still received the snow, the icy roads, the blowing wind, and the cold temps. The landscape looks more or less dead.

The seasons and our calendar look a lot like life from the right perspective. They begin, they progress, they end...only to start over again. The new year and the new cycle of life don't really coincide with each other, and yet they do in a certain sense.

Spring to us almost represents the new life being created or birthed, with all the plants coming alive, animals coming out of hibernation, people venturing out with greater frequency as a whole. Eventually spring merges into summer. Almost like adolescence and the early adult life. We go out, we explore our world, often in the form of vacations, we have fun. Soon things cool off as autumn sets in. We go back to school and work, and prepare for later when the holidays come around. Autumn fully engulfs us, almost like midlife where we begin to assess how our year (or life) has gone thus far. The holiday season begins in autumn, and we begin to re-connect with our families. Sure, commercialism and shopping and sales are always there, but we stress the important things in life: our families and friends, that which really matters in our lives. Autumn turns to winter, the holidays still in full swing, we continue to cling to the activities that keep us connected to our loved ones. Winter is almost like our senior years, the twilight of our lives. We again take a look at how our lives/years have gone overall.

The winter doesn't end with the calendar year, but continues on. The new year arrives, often including our new plans, or resolutions of what we will do with our new year, and hopefully our new life. We plant the seeds of our ideas into our brains, but with anything, the fruition doesn't immediately show itself, in the dead of winter. It must take time to germinate, along with careful tending, for us to bring everything back to its new life. Then after a few months into the new year, Spring comes along again. We have our second chance at life. We begin the spring cleaning, ridding ourselves of the older and unwanted portions from our old life, to make room for the new things we intend to add and improve our lives. Almost instinctively we crave and try to usher in change to our lives, in order to feel more alive.

Now in real life it doesn't always manifest itself that way. We don't always change but maintain our routines. We don't put forth the new ideas, but merely try to survive in the way we always have. Life passes us by as we just exist. Events, activities and people come and go, but we remain steadfast in our mere stagnant existence. We cling to our ideas of how things should be, occasionally dreaming of what could be, but rarely acting on it. Other times we will stretch ourselves to do things, to say that we are moving forward, even if there is little evidence that it will actually change anything, just for the sake of doing 'something'.

Eventually as we move through our lives, the end of the year/seasons/life comes along. Almost automatically we assess it all again. Did we do this, did we do that, why did we or did we not do the other? For some the answers come easily, knowing they lived a full year or a full life, without regrets of any sort. For others, the questions often beget more questions, along with regrets, wondering where the time went. What could I have done/said differently to have created a better outcome for myself? Things of that nature.

For those who merely existed and survived life, without risk of losing it reminds me of a bible passage. Now some take the bible at its literal word, others as a metaphorical collection on how to live life. To a degree both are right. The passage "Any man who tries to save his life shall surely lose it." Now many Christians will tell you that you must give yourself to the Lord to receive your blessings in Heaven. And yet, it has real world implications at the same time. Those who risk nothing, those who just survive, they will have those questions. they will have realized that they lost the luster of what life and the world has to offer them. It could be a lifestyle, happiness in their jobs, people in their lives, any number of things.

As winter has arrived I find myself wondering what the hell I did with my year. What could I have done differently? Have my relationships with other people grown stronger, weaker. or remained as merely existing relationships over the time? Am I any different now than I was before? Is my family stronger and more loving than a year ago? Or less so? Have I lived a life worth being proud of over this last year, or one that has kept me from true happiness? Will the new year bring better plans, better actions, better words, and ultimately a better life?

Being a guy, we are often stereotyped as having to maintain a macho image. To actually discuss serious topics out loud with someone may leave us challenging our masculinity, and with some guys, our sexual orientation is called into question, usually with a phrase from one of our guy friends that sounds a little like "Dude, why are you acting so gay?"

They say communication is key to building and maintaining relationships. However such statements as the one ending the last paragraph can easily stop us dead in our tracks, and make us shy away from such talk. It's a whole lot easier to sit on our couch in silence staring at the ball game with one hand in a bag of chips the other one clutching either the TV remote or our crotches. We find it hard to expose ourselves, emotionally speaking, for some odd fear of being rejected, or dismissed out of hand by those around us (which sometimes does happen). And yet, if the very people we care about drift away from us, we sit there wondering what happened to our friends or loved ones that we do not see as much of as we did previously. We have had falsehoods built into our lives, and over time we believe them as much as age-old wisdom. We often spread those very same lies to those around us, leading them down the same paths. We lie, and lie, until a big part of our life may be that of a false self. Of course, being human, if we're called on it, we go into psychological self defense, deflecting blame and finding fault with our accusers. Anything to save losing face in our own mind, as well as in the eyes of others, because being wrong is not an option. We will make decisions in life to protect ourselves...and stick by those decisions in the face of everything, good or bad.

And then the next spring and new life comes. The question then is are we still living our old life as we always have? Or maybe we are embarking upon a new one entirely? Or maybe we will take the good part of the old life and add new adaptations to bring those around us along in your new life? Do we clutch onto the ways we've been wronged, while wanting our wrongs to be forgiven? Or will we start anew, forgiving those trespasses against us, while hoping the same courtesy is extended to us? Do we work out our issues with others with whom we may have problems, or keep to ourselves not caring about the people or the circumstances?

Is the new life going to be another set of lies where we insist we're fine no matter what, or will truth be shown the light of day and we allow ourselves to be vulnerable and loved/loving?

Terrorists Return!

2010-12-09T12:33:00.000-08:00

Stupid bats! They set off an alarm at the Hoyt Sherman for the 2nd shift guy, then an hour later, they did it again, so I, along with supervisor Casey spent the first hour of my shift in that place chasing 1 bat, then 2...

They out flew our artillery, consisting of orange cones and a phone book. They took full advantage of the wide open air in the theater. Eventually they exhausted us and our timeline to be able to complete our other duties for the evening. We had to set the perimeter alarms to avoid being called back and wasting more time. We really should be allowed to use automatic firearms indoors. More accurate at a distance,and easier to propel the bullets than big ass cones and a floppy phonebook!

After an hour of being teased and dive-bombed, we had had enough for the evening. Maybe another night we'll get our shot at eliminating them before they decide to steal the limelight during one of the plays that are put on there.

Bats Attack!!!!

2010-12-08T06:46:00.000-08:00

Well, as the single digit temps descended over Iowa, the bat problem is striking again. And again, it is the terrorists' favorite target, the Hoyt Sherman Place. This old mansion seems to be a clearinghouse of nooks and crannies for bats to hide out. And every now and then, they take a few flights in front of the motion detectors, which means I get called to go see what the hell is going on. As usual, I call up my supervisor and make him go there with me. The place is too creepy at night to not have someone there to hold your hand.

This time, we get there, I turn off the alarm system, and no sooner than I hit the lights in the lobby area, the winged terrorist comes flying at us, unleashing the possibility of a rabies-laden attack upon the Mookist general, and his compadre. It's time to go to work eliminating these terrorist sumbitches. Last night,, we were armed with the most primitive of weaponry, the dreaded orange cones (think traffic cones). We finally convinced this monstrous and EFFING HUGE bat to roost in his normal terrorist-trained upside down position at the top of a door across the room. I wheeled around to the left with my cone and my GI Joe-like ninja skills avoiding the bats detection, while my supervisor Casey held the middle ground to the entry vestibule in check. A quick toss, and BAT DOWN, BAT DOWN!!! We placed the cone over him, and I moved to go write up the alarm response sheet at a nearby desk. The bat was sliding underneath the cone towards the door he had previously hung from, trying to escape underneath the locked door that I did not possess a key for. WE stopped him as he was 3/4 of the way through in his backstroke maneuver to freedom. The next step was to fully retrieve the little rat faced bastard from underneath the door. Ever cautious of possible rabies infections from bites or scratches, we searched for something to get a grip on the terrorist and bring him back into the light and under our guard. (The next moment gets a bit gruesome, so weak stomached people stop reading here, and go to your happy place.)

Casey did NOT hand me his pocketknife, and I did NOT use it to stab the winged terrorist in a pinning hold to drag him out. Right after we did NOT do those things, I hear Casey yell out some unsavory words, and mentioned something about another bat. Apparently our NOT piercing the first terrorists skin did NOT release pheromones and a rescue signal to his terrorist partner, who then began to dive bomb us all over the lobby. We placed a nicely weighted bucket over Bat #1, grabbed our cones, and proceeded to go after the 2nd insurgent. After a few strafing runs, the 2nd bat went up the stairwell to the main theater entry hall, strafed us a couple more times, then went up another level, where we lost him in the dark.

We were both disappointed in that result. 1- We enjoy the bat calls, as they are one of the most exciting, and scary moments on the job. 2- We don't necessarily want to be called back if another bat sets off the alarm system, which takes time away from our other duties. And 3- Losing a live terrorist only serves to degradate our reputation as elite rentacops turned combat commandos.

Surely we will be back again, as these winged marauders will start trouble again, trying to dissuade us of our nightly missions, and cause us to give up and go home, allowing the terrorists to claim victory over rentacops and more notably, the Mookist forces. WE will never EVER give in to these terrorists if it takes our entire lifetime to rid our alarm response accounts of these rabies-harboring little (and sometimes not so little) rat-faced bastards. WE intend to NOT kill them all, because killing them would be considered illegal, depending on the species anyways, and I'm no bat-ologist (yes this is a technical term meaning studier of bats), so I can't tell which ones are fair game or not. All I'm saying is if they just happen to have sudden cardiac arrest at the exact moment they tangle with us, well, that's either God or Darwin speaking.

Today Is A Wonderful Day!

2010-12-03T07:04:00.000-08:00

First off, my mother was gracious enough to loan us her laptop until Christmas, when we get a desktop computer to replace the old one. This allows me more time to contemplate any blogs, emails etc, beyond the 2 hour limit set at the library up the road. It also allows my wife time to practice her pre-tests for work without having to leave home after getting home from work.

It's also snowing out. Usually this is not something that thrills me, but I have tonight off so far. Still trying to figure out how to work tonight if at all possible. Wednesday night marks the first time I've called off sick from work, so I lost 8 hours of time. I haven't been sick in almost 11 years, and I got hit hard by some sinus/head/chest cold business that hit me in the face like a bag of bricks. I was definitely not expecting it to happen. I avoid all the colds and flus, normally. However, while I'm not quite back to 100%, I have realized a couple things. One, this marks the moment I am getting better, and my immune system has one more set of antibodies to help defend me. I expect nothing short of 30 years without illness now, minimum. Also, I have had a lot of stress I have been mulling over, and I think this was God's way of telling me I'm not superhuman, to quit acting like I am, stick my faith more in Him than me, and now that I've hit sort of a bottom in my life, everything is looking up.

I think the fact that I actually called in sick, rather than try to tough it out at work for a few measly bucks shows I may actually be learning. And of course with that learning, I also realize that if I had been thinking more clearly and not just about money and bills, I would've called off on a few occasions just to spend time with my wife when she asked me to do so in the past.

I spent way too much time worrying about such trivial things, and not about the more important things in life, like my wife and kids and spending time with them instead of working so damn much. I remember once my 2nd dad once said he "works to live, not live to work." in reference to a conversation with his boss about not participating in overtime so he could go to the kids ballgame. I sort of let life get in the way, and forgot that little nugget of a life lesson.

However all being said and done, I am reminded by something the Reverend Tim Storey said:

"All of us experience setbacks in life at one point or another. Maybe one of your children is in trouble, our finances are in crisis or your marriage is falling apart. But, just because your dreams are currently a nightmare does not mean it's over! God is in the business of resurrecting dead visions. It does not matter how big a mess your life may be- don't take a step back- because God has already prepared your comeback."

I spent way too much time examining my past and the wrongs within it, my limitations and all the excuses in the world. Now it has come time to just drop them and do what needs to be done, no matter what anyone else has to say about it, since its my life to decide instead of using it as I had: a life to default.

After The Turkey Tried To Kill Me In My Sleep

2010-11-26T13:18:00.000-08:00

So last night, as I embarked on a 12 hour workshift for the holiday, I was looking forward to a homecooked meal provided by my boss's wife. Turkey, stuffing, pumpkin pie, and a few other sides. I ate too much. This usually happens whenever I'm served copious amounts of food. I feel the need to eat and appreciate it all til the last bite is swallowed down. Savoring it, or saving any for later is not in my vocabulary. However, when it comes to the turkey, this feast is followed by a much more devious enemy...turkey coma. I spent the final 8 hours of my shift trying to fight off the urge to sleep continuously. When you're behind the wheel, that is not necessarily a good thing. But I have managed to fight it off, and am still up in the middle of the following afternoon, hopped up on coffee.

My wife and kids spent their day with my parents and other family friends, and tomorrow will set off to go to her parents' place. I will be left home alone apparently, again. Peace and quiet, save the occasional psychotic episodes by The Colonel, and the inevitable ringing of the phone. Time for some book reading, maybe some writing (with actual pen and paper since the computer is trashed), time to think and all that stuff.

I have a lot of stuff on my mind, so I suppose the time left alone would be good to get that all out of my system, even if that is all that can be done about most any of it. I'd like to go up to my in-laws, but somehow I don't see that happening, since I work at 8pm on Sunday night and would limit the wife's time in visiting with her family. So, I'll just hold out for any possible leftovers being sent back for me. I like food, especially good food, which seems to be a specialty from my wife's family tree.

Let's see, what else? Oh, Buggy wrote his own book, added front and back covers (all torn out lined notebook paper), stapled it together...both sides. Josh is as active as ever, and while he'll come in when he gets cold (has more sense than I did as a kid), he still goes out when its too cold for me (apparently cold weather sucks more when you get older as compared to childhood). Wife has her new car, and is getting acquainted with her new job day by day. Um, computer is still dead as I mentioned before, however, I'm being sent a laptop on loan by my mother to hold us over until a new desktop is acquired, so I wont always have to use up the gas in my car or expose myself to the weather just to come to the library to get online. So that's always good. And of course, now with the wife having her car, I'm free to go anywhere I want for job searches, not just within foot or bicycle distance. Maybe I can get more money, and possibly better hours eventually for fulltime work. Then I can hang out with my family a little more often...well, that is if they don't go into shock from seeing me and send me away so as not to disturb their peaceful surroundings!

Thanksgiving Eve

2010-11-24T13:02:00.001-08:00

Okay, so for those of you who don't know, my home computer crashed this past weekend. I am thankful for this opportunity in a not so enthused manner, that it might teach me to quit thinking about hard drive backup systems, and actually get the stuff backed up! Too many photos over the last 10 years on there that are too precious and memory filled to be losing! So I am currently at the public library up the road, and will continue to check in occasionally from here, until more suitable arrangements can be taken care of. That's also why this post will come today and not tomorrow...since the library will be closed and all.

So today, I get to be thankful for a lot of things. I am thankful first and foremost for my wife, who has put up with me for close to 14 years, just over 10 of them as my wife. I am also thankful to her for giving me two beautiful and exciting boys! I am thankful for those boys, for the joy and the little life lessons they teach me everyday (mostly patience! just kidding). I'm also thankful for her new vehicle...I now have permission to drive myself to and from work, and anywhere else I'd like to go! Luv ya honey!

I am thankful, that after a long wait, my best friend from childhood, Jed, and his wife, Naomi, have finally come to realize their dream of parenthood. Oh, the joys and newfound ways to become completely exhausted mentally and physically shall be great. Mostly to those of us who get to see/hear about it! So you two better be thankful for any nap you can squeeze in.

I am thankful that my cat will be around to keep me company over the holiday and guard the apartment while I sleep between shifts.

I am thankful to my parents, our family friend Doc, and to her parents, for providing a place for my wife and kids to experience some real Thanksgiving get togethers.

I am thankful for Swanson, or Banquet, or whoever provides me with a delectable imitation Thanksgiving meal that takes approximately 22-28 minutes to prepare in the oven, or a total of 5-6 1/2 minutes in the microwave. And also to Anderson-Erickson daireis, for the egg nog they put out each year that I will enjoy with the aforementioned meal. And no worries, I will remember to give thanks to the Lord before I dig into this meal. Partially for seeing to it that I get somethign to eat, as well as the thankfulness for not having blown myself, the oven, and/or the food up before I could eat it (the food not the oven).

I am thankful for the troops serving, especially my buddies Trevor and Gerry who are pre-deployed and deployed, may God look over them and bring them all back home safe.

I am also thankful for my readers and their occasional comments. While I write this stuff mostly for my own amusement, it is nice to see people read my writing and think well enough of some of it to say something.

Meaning of Names

2010-11-15T06:56:00.000-08:00

So on Facebook I saw my sister had posted that she looked up her and her husband's names on Urbandictionary.com to get a definition.

I thought I'd do the same thing. I found two close definition entries for me and wasn't sure which one worked, and which parts of each really seemed to match up

Definition #1: A very cool guy who makes everyone laugh. Once you meet him, you will want to be his friend right away. He is super cute and very good-looking. He has amazing taste...in music, clothes, food, everything. Every girl secretly wishes that he could be her boyfriend...mainly because he recently broke up with his girlfriend...mainly because everyone knows that he likes commitment...mainly because he is sweet and knows how to treat a girl...mainly because however strange and wierd he may be, he's perfect. In his own little way, he is perfect.

Breaking this one down. I make everyone laugh. The question there is how many are laughing with me, at my antics, and at me? The middle fluff I'll skip over. Then you get to the last parts. 'however strange and weird he may be, he's perfect. In his own little way, he is perfect.' Do they mean I'm perfectly strange and weird or what?

Definition #2: a handsome and intelligent man, michael is very grounded and knows what he wants. Michael has the ideal person in mind and won't fall for someone fake. ambition and goals to take over the world is what he dreams up. give him his perfect partner and he will become complete like no other time in his life. Michael is like the sun and is legendary.

Breaking this one down. handsome and intelligent? Check! Grounded and knows what he wants? check and 'workin on it'. Won't fall for someone fake? got my bases covered there. Goals to take over the world? Check...my plans are all falling into place quicker than you all realize. Like the sun and legendary? Yes I like the sun, just not too much of it, cuz I don't tan well, just fry like a lobster. As for the legendary part...I am a legend in my own mind. I'm working on everyone else's minds as we speak. More than just you poor already-conquered readers will know my name soon enough!

Coming Developments

2010-11-12T07:42:00.000-08:00

Well, I have a completed one goal for the month of November, and am awaiting a new development coming shortly.

I have finished the preliminary writings of my book about the adventures of growing up in a small town in the middle of nowhere. I have combed thru all the real names I've used and have compiled a list of replacement names for all the characters. I'm sure I'll have to send out legal forms getting permission from some for using their likeness and/or names. I'm not sure, so I wonder, will getting their permission allow me to just leave their names 'as-is' or is that specified in each waiver form that they have the option to use their name or a pseudonym? hmmm.

Anyways, Still waiting on a soft edit from one of the most voracious readers I know to see what tweaks might be made to make it a better read (and therefor more publish-worthy), and then I will be ready to start sending off queries for a literary agent, hopefully getting through the rejection letters quickly to an agent willing to represent me and find me a decent publishing deal on the book.

In other news, and just as important, my best friend Jed, and his wife Naomi, will be leaving today to fly over to Ethiopia to formally adopt and bring back two beautiful little girls they will be calling daughter. It has been quite the long wait for them. I know they are both excited about the prospects, and as usual with new parents, probably very nervous at the same time. But, it will be quite the adventure for them, and I suspect they will do very well as parents as they love kids very much. When my family stayed with them a few days over vacation during the summer of last year, they treated our sons almost like their very own. So I know the girls will be very loved and well taken care of with their new parents. I am officially and biologically an uncle of one little girl, and a pseudo-uncle of a few boys and girls that call me Uncle Mikey. I must say I am definitely looking forward to meeting my two newest 'nieces' here sometime soon. I pray, and hope you all will too, for a safe flight for Jed and Naomi on their way to Ethiopia as well as on the way back for a safe return home where they begin a new chapter in their lives together.

Kid Note To Mommy

2010-11-11T07:26:00.000-08:00

So I get home this morning and as I sit down at this desk, I look over to a stack of papers that are my future book. On top is a plain white paper with a note on it

Dear mom Im happy
for your new job I
hope you like lise
from corwyn
I Love You
Mom
by

As I read this I wonder a couple things when seeing notes from kids who aren't up to the task of using punctuation. The middle part particularly intrigues me. Is he hoping his mom "likes lice"? Or is he hoping his mom "likes lice from Corwyn"? Both are disturbing to me, especially if he actually means lice, and especially especially if he means lice from him. Which means I have to get a million quarters to do all the laundry, and we have to powerwash everything with acid or something drastic. Can a cat get lice from humans? Will the flea bath take care of that, or do I have to get a special bath for the lice and something else for the fleas? Do I need to dip the cat in acid to cure him of this and just hope he survives the cleansing?

I sure hope 'lise' was meant to be Lisa or something NOT LICE. Then I wonder who Lisa is and why Corwyn would want mom to like Lisa. Is Lisa a new boss? Does Bug have a girlfriend named Lisa that he thinks he has fallen in love with and wants mom to approve his plans for a young kids wedding? If the latter is the manner in which he means, I'm almost ready to accept lice as a better alternative.

When kids write notes everything is so innocent in their minds (at least I like to pretend that), and yet my mind is always looking for just what they mean. Most certainly when he 'hopes you like lise'. Wierd.

Sample Chapter From Future Book

2010-11-08T09:28:00.000-08:00

Just a note: I just wrote this chapter today for a book I've been writing about random events from growing up in Sac City Iowa. I started this project a couple years back doing small occasional essays for thesacnews.com back when it was a fledgling organization on myspace. Eventually I discontinued it from public view, started and stopped writing on it repeatedly. Have been editing some, and am preparing to start submitting to literary agents for representation in the hopes of getting a book published. So for those of you who used to follow the series, and those of you who are just curious, please enjoy one of my latests essays.

Urination and Lifesavers

Let’s just face facts right off the bat here. Boys find potty humor of all sorts funny. Well, basically we find anything the body can excrete highly interesting and amusing. Its funny when we do it, say it, read it, or write it. Snot, poop, pee, farts, blood. It’s all fair game to our strange sense of humor. We may be absolutely disgusted to the core when someone lets a nasty fart rip, and yet still amused. VERY amused. When someone steps in dog poop, again we are disgusted by it, especially if we are the ones to step in it, and yet we can’t help but laugh our heads off about it, especially when it’s someone else stepping in it. For the next couple short anecdotes, if you are a girl or highly sensitive to disgusting things, I’d suggest you skip this next part altogether because it gets pretty bad. What’s it all about? In one word, Pee.
Little boys and dogs are more alike than different. Dogs will wander about the neighborhood lifting a leg and peeing on everything in sight that they find to be valuable real estate. Growing up in Sac City, I knew a particular young boy we’ll call Miah, who acted just like this. Although to be honest, I don’t think he cared about the real estate he was marking. When he decided he had to go pee, he just went pee. On a bush, a fire hydrant, the sidewalk, on the tires of a parked car, on a moving car for that matter, your leg, his own leg, behind a tree, next to a tree, from up in a tree, or on your house, your cat, or your dog; you name it, Miah peed on it at least once. I think that if Miah found himself in the midst of a busy intersection and felt the need to go pee, even if it meant being squished by a semi truck, he was going to whip it out and go pee RIGHT there and RIGHT now. I’m pretty sure the only thing safe from getting peed on by Miah was an actual toilet. I don’t know if he had an allergy to porcelain or an affinity for peeing on everything else, but like a dog, he marked his territory wherever we went.
Little boys and packs of dogs also have something in common. There must be in any pack, an established Alpha male. One day while playing in the ravine with my friend Sonny, he was standing on the wall while I was below on the ground. I was busying myself with something or another when he called my name. I looked up in just in time to see a golden stream headed in my direction. An as though I was paralyzed I stood there while my t-shirt got soaked with Sonny’s pee. Clearly Sonny had established himself as the alpha male. He got in trouble as I did what any good young fighting warrior of a boy would do- I tattled to my mom. And while he was in trouble and stuck sitting on the couch until his mom came to pick him up, he still had a stupid grin on his face knowing he had marked me as his territory, and himself as the top dog.
Now everyone knows that dogs love to chase mail carriers. In Sac City we had one particular mail carrier that handed out lifesavers to the kids. Any kid who asked received a tasty fruity Lifesaver once a day. I managed to find out that by helping the mailman deliver mail to some of the houses on one side of the street while he walked down the other earned me one more Lifesaver for every stop back to the mail truck. On days when I was bored, I would spend a couple hours with the mailman, earning my lifesavers. My mom, realizing how much of his candy I was consuming, always made sure to buy him a big box of Lifesavers every Christmas just so other kids could have some as well.
One day, my best friend Jed and his little brother Miah caught me in the middle of doing important mail delivery. They wanted to play, but I blew them off, saying I would come over after I was done following the mailman around. When I finished I grabbed my sister and went over to where my friends were hanging out. Since I had blown them off they hatched a very evil plan to get me back. I found my friends, and they informed me that they had just gotten brand new released flavors of Mr. Juicy drinks. This time it came in lemon flavored. However, they said, it had been in the sun for a bit, so it was warm. Being my gullible and naïve 8 year-old self, I had no problem trusting my wonderful friends without any suspicions. Both my sister and myself began to sample the lemon flavored Mr. Juicy. My sister was thirsty and started to guzzle it down. The Mr. Juicy concoction entered my mouth, hit my taste buds, and I immediately knew I had been tricked.
“AUGH!” I cried out after spitting the nastiness onto the ground. “This tastes like piss!” To which my sister started gagging and trying to spit out the remainder that was in her mouth. She had clearly swallowed some already. My friends were laughing hysterically.
Hey! I warned you this was going to be disgusting! If you read this far and are sorry you did, fearing you may have just thrown up a little bit in your mouth, you only have yourself to blame. Don’t say I didn’t give you fair warning to skip ahead.
Thanks to my friends, I now had Miah’s pee inside of me! He literally gets it everywhere. After a few words were exchanged, I joined in and helped prepare more nasty drinks to see whom else we could trick. See what I mean? Yes, it’s definitely disgusting beyond belief, and yet still leads to the funny! Why does it lead to the funny do you ask? Because, we made it happen to somebody else too!

Legislating From The Bench or Doing Their Job

2010-11-08T07:03:00.000-08:00

Here in Iowa, our election day was not only for representatives, senators and a governor. In fact, a huge issue getting a lot of the play was on the retention or rejection of 3 Iowa Supreme Court justices. After all was said and done, Marsha K. Ternus, the chief justice; Michael J. Streit; and David L. Baker — received about 45 percent of the vote, making this the first time members of the state’s high court had been rejected by voters.

“I think it will send a message across the country that the power resides with the people,” said Bob Vander Plaats, an unsuccessful Republican candidate for governor who led the campaign. “It’s we the people, not we the courts.”

“What is so disturbing about this is that it really might cause judges in the future to be less willing to protect minorities out of fear that they might be voted out of office,” said Erwin Chemerinsky, the dean of the University of California, Irvine, School of Law. “Something like this really does chill other judges.”

A massive portion of the campaign to oust the judges was funded by out of state groups, helping to support the efforts led by Vander Plaats, and heralded by Representative Steve King.

A lot of the arguments put forth by pundits and regular citizens alike was that the ouster was the result of Iowans being displeased with the state Supreme Court legislating from the bench. Now I may be a conservative, but this is one area where I break ranks with our so-called standard bearers.

For one, I personally think the idea of gay marriage is a non-issue and therefor irrelevant in regards to government oversight, save the license issuing process that heterosexual couples go through. Secondly, I personally believe the process behind letting citizens decide to stop homosexuals from being allowed to marry or not is ludicrous. Since the state Supreme Court said the legislation was essentially flawed and struck down as unconstitutional, gay marriage opponents and politicians have taken to their soapboxes to proclaim the injustice of an opinion differing from theirs. Boo-friggin-hoo!

I believe when allowing citizens to vote on the rights of other people's lives you have to look at a couple things. One- does there allowance to participate in some activity truly harm you? Two- Is the vote on an amendment to allow a freedom or restrict a freedom.

Personally, I know gay people, and have some people related to me who have chosen (or are naturally?) the homosexual lifestyle. Am I for gay activities? Not really. I have always and will always prefer women for romantic relations. But in regards to homosexuality I don't have to participate in, condone, or suffer from their lifestyle, or choose to associate myself with anyone who does. Whether or not two gay people decide to get married will ultimately never affect me personally, and I highly doubt it will affect any of the other straight people living around here.

Conservatives are always bitching about how they want the government to stay out of their personal lives and let them live and operate freely as they see fit. But then all of a sudden, hoards of queers appear on the horizon, in full war paint ready to charge on in and ruin their idea of civilization, and now they want to use our system of governance to prohibit the activities of individuals.

Look I get the God-fearing church crowd being dismayed at homosexual activities and lifestyle, I really do. Say what you want, let your heart be filled with all that hate you wish to hold, but remember a couple teachings from the Good Book. Do not judge, for that is the role of God. Hate the sin, love the sinner. Pull the plank out of your own eye before removing the speck from your brother's.

In other words, you aren't perfect, so who the hell are you to tell other people how wrong they are. Fix up your own house and let others fix their own house as they see fit. Again, you don't have to hang out with homosexuals or people who accept homosexuals as friends for that matter. You don't have to engage in homosexual behavior or gay marriage. Your church does not have to recognize anything related to homosexuals. In the same moment, keep your government out of it as well.

Quit pissing and moaning about how the government is trying to legislate your activities, and then turn around and do the same thing to someone you disagree with. That only makes you a hypocrite. And while everyone is entitled to their own wrong opinions, the rest of those around you are equally entitled to disagree with you and tell you to stuff it where the sun don't shine.

So, unlike many of my conservative friends, I voted to retain the three judges. I voted for the losing side. That doesn't make me wrong, just makes me in the minority at the polls. The judges did NOT legislate from the bench, contrary to popular opinion, but merely did their job in not restricting the freedoms of citizens under their jurisdiction.

Rent-A-Cop of the Year Award

2010-11-05T08:14:00.000-07:00

Well, it's that time again... time for you to nominate yourself or someone else for Rent-A-Cop of the Year 2010!

Just send a photo -preferably a cheesily posed one- along with your name, rentacop company name, (or whatever company you work for- you dont have to be an actual rentacop, just participated in something or another that made things safer), and brief description of why you should be 2010s Rent-A-Cop of the Year. You can list out your accomplishments, a good funny story, or whatever you want to submit. While we do allow serious embellishments on any of these, they have to be true events. Kind of like how someone writes up their resume for the job hunt.

Unlike most years, I think this year we have a prize for the winner, besides a mention here on this page. A real tangible (that means you can see it and touch it...smelling or licking it might be taking things a bit far) prize just for the eventual winner.

Send all info to my email: mookie369@yahoo.com
be sure to put rentacop2010 in the subject line...and dont forget to send your goofy ass picture

State Of The Cat Address- Nov2010

2010-11-04T08:01:00.000-07:00

From the desk of: Colonel Beauregard Sterling Lovell

Well, this time around, we'll get through the nitty-gritty details, then onto my diaboloical plans for the future.

Economy:
So far the economy is going well. The lady in the house has just accepted a job that pays better. I've heard rumors of the General preparing for as second job, or replacing it altogether with something more akin to daytime hours. I'm not sure how I feel about everyone being gone all day, as I will have to do my own bidding during that time. I've been eating pretty heartily, but I expect more posh snacking with more money to circulate around here. I've also done very well in making sure my fiber intake is being supplemented well enough to keep up my fecal matter production. This industry is one of hard work but great rewards, as I make the humans clean out my litter box at a more frequent pace. With a growing obesity index amongst humans, they need the exercise.

Quality of life:

Things here are so-so. I'm still getting plenty of exercise as I run rampantly throughout the compound, jumping on all the furniture, on counters and into cupboards when people leave them open for me. I have been receiving lots of good training time by attacking the little people around here, and one of them even falls for my luring him into a little hand to paw combat from time to time. He tastes a bit funny with that 11 yr old boy smell he has going on, but the taste of his blood mostly makes up for it. However, that being said, I think the political atmosphere around here is a bit tyrranical. Yes, I own this place and these people, but the official balance of power leaves much to be desired. they also have worked hard to contain me within the walls of the compound, and not letting me out onto the deck to oversee the perimeter.

Onto my rant:
Keeping with the balance of power, election tuesday came and went. I voted for myself to become supreme leader in this Mookified Compound, and being feline I get a vote for each and everyone of my claws, and the rest get their normal 1 vote. However, somehow I still lost. I'm not sure who to blame, and I'm not naming names here, but it rhymes with dookie. Which is what this election farce smells like. It's worse than my litter box when they ignore it!

I think, much like the General defected from the Branch Duanians, I too will defect and startup my own compound, where I run the show actively, not just behind the scenes business. The General's tyrranical hand has shown itself, as you can see in the picture above, and I don't need to take that abuse. I'll probably stick around for the rest of the year, then after collecting any Christmas loot, I may well just move on out. For a coup de grace, I may work to convince the lady and the two little people to come with me, leaving the General to be the ruler of only himself. And he'll have to actually provide his own compound security. I know what he does for a living, so I doubt he'll be able to contract outside help. Should prove to be very interesting, and he wil then realize where the true power in this place lies: With me...King Supreme Emperor Lord Almighty Colonel Beauregard Sterling Lovell has a nice ring to it. Don't you agree? You'd better or I'll fleece your naughty parts with my claws of death!

Pics of the Boys From Halloween

2010-11-03T08:11:00.000-07:00

Here we have the boys posing in their costumes at their Nana and Grandpa's house, prior to heading out for the candy looting...err, Trick-or-treating.

And here us boys are at the start of our trek.

And now once all the trick-or-treating is done for the evening, the boys are showing off the evening's haul of candy!

Halloween And Fun With The Boys

2010-11-01T09:47:00.000-07:00

Halloween this year for us ended up leaving our suburban neighborhood and took a two plus hour drive up to rural Sac City, Iowa, my old home town. The boys got a chance to see their Nana and Grandpa, and go out trick-or-treating in the small town.

After the drive up Saturday morning, the boys committed to their usual routine. Josh did not waste any time in getting himself onto Nana's computer to play video games, and Buggy was quickly out the door to go play with Jack, the neighbor kid.

After awhile, that all subsided and they went down to play in the mythical wilderness of my childhood known as The Ravine. Most of this year, the ravine was off limits as the city was re-doing the storm/sewage water drainage system. I noticed as we drove by The Ravine before bending the corner to my parents that the entire valley looked a lot different than in years past. The lower valley was filled in with lush green grass, and the creek bed walls were now lined in most parts with rocks to prevent erosion. The surrounding hills however were still pretty much the same as I remember them; lots of trees and brush with dead limbs and leaves all over the ground. The boys spent a considerable amount of time down there this weekend, just enjoying exploring the area. At one point I was asked if they were allowed to go through The Tunnel (also known to some of us older people as the devil worshipper's hangout). Unfortunately for the boys, I know the water runs right through there as it passes underneath 9th street, and now being a parent, I didn't want them to soak their shoes. However, I did allow them to go over the road to the continuation of the ravine on the other side.

Turns out, in the case of Buggy, anyways, I might as well have let them go through the tunnel. Buggy slipped at some point and ended up in the creek, soaking his shoes, socks and partway up the legs of his pants. Oh well I guess. All part of being a kid.

Sunday came along, and there was more time in The Ravine. I sent the boys down. Soon Buggy came back. He was bored because "All you can do down there is play." Well geez...Didn't realize that playing was so uncool these days. He wanted to play on the computer inside. I asked him what the difference was since inside all he could do was play. He informed me with all the authority a 6 year-old can muster up that there is a huge difference between inside and outside play. Well, okay solves that issue. I still kicked him back out. As I helped him get his shoes back on, he then proceeds to tell me that "Josh did his homework three nights last week instead of doing it during the day like he was supposed to."

"Are you being a tattle tale I," I asked.
"No"
"Well then," I queried, "What is it you're doing, if you're not being a tattle tale?"
"I'm just telling on him!"

I guess the difference is in how you say it, not the intent. I must've forgot that childhood lesson over the years!

But I sent him back out to the Ravine to play with his brother, and shortly thereafter I attempted to go in their and sneak up on them. Unfortunately for me, they knew I was coming anyways, and instead of occupy themselves, they put themselves up on the area known as "Lookout Hill" and waited for my arrival, so they could come and shoot me with their toy guns. Josh being Josh, had actually scaled a small tree to get even more height to scan the territory for the rebel invader known as 'Dad.' Like father like son. I attempted to go in around the other side of the ravine, but all the leaves on the ground wouldn't cooperate, and rustled as loudly as a freight train as far as I was concerned. they quickly came down from their position and scaled up the side of Death Mountain to take me out. I knew they were coming from me, I just didn't realize how fast Josh was able to come up the steep side of the hill, and he was on top of me pretty quickly. I'm either losing my edge, or he's coming into his own as a scout.

After I was taken out by my boys, we moved back to Lookout Hill, and began to make improvements to the old campfire spot I had as a kid. We repaired and improved the old fire pit spot, and began constructing a few blinds with dead saplings, other branches and sticks, and leaves. We also carved out a few paths on the hill by clearing out the leaves so we could move about in a quieter manner. The 'campsite' wasn't anything you'll find in a high end construction innovation magazine, or outdoorsman type publication. We just used the bare bones and no real method to our madness. We just kept plugging away at it, and pretty soon my dad was yelling down into the ravine from his backyard to let us know it was time to come back up as supper was being made.

"Oh man, the parents are ruining my fun time!" Was the all I thought when I heard him yell down to us. Just like the old days, when I was the boys' age. So we came up, cleaned up and had some supper.

Then 6pm rolled around and it was time to take them out trick-or-treating. Both the boys did very well, with both of their buckets getting filled up, despite the fact that we covered a LOT less ground than I did during my years of trick-or-treating in that town. After we got back to my parents house, I tossed Buggy's still-wet shoes and socks in the dryer, and they hung out with some kids of family friends who stopped over for awhile, and around 9pm I had everything packed up, loaded up the candy-inhaling boys, and hit the road for a dark ride back home, getting in around 1130 or so. the boys were woken up long enough to get inside, grab a drink of water and go right back to sleep, this time in their own beds.

I don't have any pictures of the boys in costume yet, as I'm waiting on my mom to send the pictures via email. So when I get them, I'll put up a real quick picture blog.

Memories In Photo- Part 2

2010-10-29T09:53:00.000-07:00

Dani in a self picture on the car ride down to Branson
Here's the whole family at a stop in Yellowstone. Dani takes wonderfully great photos, but it's even better to see her grace a few!
Mom with her boys at Rushmore, and one of her and Josh at our campsite outside Custer SD.

Nice shot of my wife, myself and our oldest out for a horseride up a mountain. It was my first time riding a horse. Dani was quite amused by me this day.
And of course, the obligatory old time photo of the family. Dani was looking a bit too sizzling for a family photo here, but hey, I don't mind checking her out in this outfit.

Here's my wife on the boat for a cocktail cruise before the fountain light show at the Landing in Branson. And a nice picture of us in the Hotel prior to dinner, where she dazzled in this self-made dress. The waiters fell over themselves, the men in the restaurant whiplashed themselves taking longer looks, and their women got a bit jealous. I was one proud man to have this Lady on my arm for the evening.

Memories In Photo Part 1

2010-10-29T09:24:00.001-07:00

It was 14 years ago this week that I first laid eyes on my wife.

Here she is when we first started dating, in the middle of two of her friends wearing my jacket. Who knew what the future would hold?
Oh Yeah, here is what it held...her hanging out with some guy who refuses to take a normal photograph!
And here she is, posing with Buggy, our youngest.
and here's Buggy, probably trying to choke out his older brother Josh!
Then she decided to catch me at some point around my naptime, just to capture a photo of us together. Very rare since she's usually on the other end of the camera!
Here's Daddy unsuccessfully trying to intimidate one of his little goobers!

Thoughts On Life For The Day

2010-10-26T09:15:00.000-07:00

I'm a mere two days away from taking an adult education class on getting into the world of publishing. I'm excited for it, as this is the first time in a long time that I am attending something more in the formal education realm to actually learn something. Even though it is just one night for two hours, its almost like when I was young, and waiting for the first day of school to arrive.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When I was young, adventure came daily and cost me nothing but my time, and the allowance of my imagination to flow freely. As an adult, it seems like adventure is tied to money, whether it is to pay for gas to get there, a place to stay, or a fee to participate. Real life seems to get in the way and only allows so much time off to take advantage of, which is never enough time to do what you want to do. But maybe I'm missing a major point. Maybe, just maybe, certain aspects of real life are the adventure that we miss because we focus too much on the mundane activities, rather than enjoying the interactions with those people in our lives and those that occupy the spaces around us. Sort of 'failing to see the forest for all the trees in the way' kind of thing.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Growing up, I used to build forts in the ravine behind my old place. By even the worst of construction standards, it was crappily constructed. I'm sure the little pig-built house made out of straw was far more stable and pleasant to look upon. But it was my fortress or cabin in the wild frontier that I had conquered. The nearby creek was my fishing hole and a place to soak my feet, and the source of my fire fighting abilities. My firepit was built to occupy my need for playing with fire, to absorb the warmth it put off, and to ward off the evil things that lurked around after dark. If you wandered by, you probably saw nothing more than a mess. But if you asked me then, I could share my world and the imagination that built it with you.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When I was young, we used to dream of the day when our phone wasn't connected to the wall or a base by a short cord. We would be able to walk around whereever we went and hold our conversations with friends, be it in another room, to pay attention to our food cooking on the stove, be able to wash the dishes, or out walking the dog and not have to do that whole "I'll call ya back in a minute/hour" thing. Now that we have all that, I almost wish it back to the way it was. I find myself in the company of people with cell phones. We may be talking about important things, or just talking about the weather. Then their phone notifies them of a text, an email or an incoming call. Without hesitation or thought, their attention goes directly to the phone. It must be checked out and attended to. While they may get back to me afterwards, it always made me feel like I was merely filler material between the important things to them. The text must be acknowledged immediately, and possibly responded to even, before their attention would turn back to me. Or if it were a phone call, suddenly the personon the other end became more important, even if it was a conversation about nothing. It always made me feel like I wasn't good enough to be a priority in anyone's life, even if we were the only two people physically present. Rather than being a tool, the cell phone became an addiction, a dependency- for how many people's lives are ruined for the moment when they forget or lose use of their cell phone? Whatever happened to unplugging for a moment and ignoring the damn thing, especially in the presence of actual people right in front of you?

I once mentioned this to someone, and right afterwards their phone rang. They looked for a moment at the phone laying on the table, and then back up to me. I could see it in their eyes that they really wanted to answer the phone, HAD to answer it. I told them to just answer it, as they're not answering it was merely trying to prove a point, since they had already done this a few times prior in the same conversation to me before I talked about it. And so they did. I took the moment to get more coffee and get rid of the previously drank coffee in my system. Hell, I've had my wife do this multiple times here at home, as well as when she and I are out and about somewhere together. It's not an indictment of her, or the other people for that matter, but rather of the societal/cultural addiction to the damn devices. However, I feel, and I'm sure others have felt this about me at the same time, that if and when I might demand they ignore it and pay attention to me, that I'm merely being selfish and quite frankly annoying the hell out of them. And of course that means they'll avoid the annoyance and focus on someone or something else instead. It seems like I'm in some kind of catch-22 situation, that I either put up with it and feel like a 2nd class citizen or say something and alienate myself altogether, but maybe I'm just overthinking things.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I have always loved to go out and observe nature. To enjoy the pure beauty of a river or lake, the mountains, a large forest or small wooded ravine, the animals in the air, on the ground and in the water. But now, I like to watch certain people around me as well. Not just any people. I find beauty in seeing my kids asleep, or watching them play with each other and/or their friends and hear them laugh their little kid laughs as they enjoy themselves. I love to peek in on my wife when she is taking a nap on a saturday afternoon, or when she is going through her closet looking for something to wear, or just looking the stuff over to see what she's keeping or giving away to Goodwill. I like watching her cooking or cleaning...not because those things may benefit me, but to see her move about with purpose and grace. I find these things beautiful.

Photos and video of these things just do not have the capability to truly capture these small moments in life. They are something that are truly more enjoyable and fully appreciated when you see them in person. And I think that we, well me specifically, take them for granted and don't appreciate them as fully and as often as we should. I think if we did, life would be a lot more enjoyable than we make it out to be, especially if we remember those moments when we're doing the stuff we don't care to do, like cleaning up the litter box or paying bills.

Extending My Reach, Expanding My Realm

2010-10-25T08:08:00.000-07:00

So recently I have posted a bit on my journey into and through manhood. I have spent a lot of time reading on the subject, and reflecting on my own life, seeing what matches up between the two; what matches up with my ideas or not.

When I was growing up, I was often out away from the house, away from my parents. Most of the time by my own volition, other times at their behest. Turns out that I could be a bit of an annoying pest from time to time- go figure. I longed for adventure as a kid, but was always told to play it safe. Do this, don't do that, blah blah blah. Most often I would do the do list in public. Conforming to those around me. Rather than be me, I tried to please people. Out of sight, I often participated in the don't list, occasionally with my best friend, but many times on my own. I was told be a boy, but be a good boy. The times I was told to be a man, was when I complained of a perceived injustice or at a moment of injury. Beyond that, I never really knew what a man actually is. I saw the loner in John Wayne, Mr all-American heroic cowboy who could do anything. I liked that idea and set it into my brain. Well, I achieved the loner part pretty easily. For when I was alone, I could do things, and if I failed, it was only me who knew. When I tried and failed at something in front of others, the message was quite clear that I was not good enough. When I would express my dreams to do something, like be a pro ballplayer, I was often confronted with the stats on how little chance there is, and how I should think more realistically, more practically. I liked my dreams, but they were just illusions in my head. The real world just didn't have a part for me in that dreamworld. Rather than push myself, I bought into all the hype entering my ears and eyes, and slowly resigned myself to a life of dull necessity.

I remember once, when I was older and I was making my car payments through my dad who had cosigned the loan for me. I had worked many hours day after day, and I walked into my dad's work while I was in town to give him the money to write a check to the bank. I gave him well over a thousand dollars in cash to cover my $100/month expense as well as a huge payment on my car loan. I didn't say anything, but I still had $600 in my pocket and another $900 in a bank account. I was quite pleased with myself. And my dad commented to his co-worker who was standing nearby about how responsible I was being, and that he was quite proud of me in my dealings. I'm sure he had mentioned being proud of me about other things at points along the way, but that was the first time I really truly realized he was saying this. So in my mind, the job of a man was to go to work, and pay his bills. In a nutshell, that's what it took; all it took. Dad and I never really talked about what it is to be a man, and I never bothered to ask. I just watched, and went with what my eyes saw and my ears heard in the public realm.

Then I got married, already with one child, and later we would have a 2nd son born to us. So, it was time to man up. I had a job, I worked hard to pay the bills, and make sure we had a roof over our head and food in our belly, along with a little extra money to help cover incurred debts along the way. I got up, kissed the wife goodbye, went to work, came home, ate food, watched TV, played with the boy for awhile, went to bed, and repeated it the next day. Here I was, Mr Provider, Man of the House, doing my duties of work and paying bills. We would do family oriented things from time to time, but mostly my life was centered around work and bills. My wife and I would get into arguments over little things. Me being me, would argue that this cant be done, or we cant go do that, because I need that money to pay this bill or that bill. My life had literally become centered not around my family and living life, but around what bill was due next, what problem came up that I was going to have to pay for now, how many hours could I be allowed to work to make up for this new discrepancy in my financial outlook.

In essence, I became what I thought I saw my dad to be. A man works and pays his bills. I never saw the other side of him, the side that drew my mother in and makes her love him to this day. (I can't see it; he's always got a bit of stubble going on, and in my estimation a bit ugly. Just kidding, Dad!) My wife struggled in her life as well, especially with the marriage. As a guy, I hunted her down, I pursued her, and eventually I was able to persuade her to be mine. And then, it just slowly died out. I made the compliments here and there, I tried to do things for her, get her gifts, take her places, whatever. But the hunt was over, and I was drunkenly complacent, not unlike a guy right after a healthy sized Thanksgiving meal. I just sat about wasting away, waiting for my belly to be unstuffed. I basically 'took a nap' in regards to her, focusing mostly on the man things of going to work and paying the bills.

While I did those things, I left her home to take care of the kids, clean the house, and just be the good domesticated wife. Of course my wife was never really built for that role alone. Don't get me wrong, when it comes to cooking, and mothering and just about any task, my wife is at the top of her game. Even in the work world, my wife sets the standards for herself well above that of her coworkers and even the expectations of her superiors. She learns, adapts and applies knowledge quickly, as though she has known it all along. In fact over the past couple years, instead of just bitching about her 'promotions' that came with pay cuts and increased responsibilities, she merely took ownership of her role, expanded her knowledge base, and was probably more adept at her job than anyone there, including her superiors, who were merely personnel managers as far as action goes.

With the absence of my emotions in the form of communication and support (I seemed more worried about how much her paycheck was and when it came in, and what bills needed paid), she turned to her work as a major focus. She turned more to the support of her friend instead of me, who could be counted on mostly to just do the same crap I was doing every other day. My complacency wasn't just a self-identity killer (as I hid myself behind my job), but it was killing my wife's femininity in regards to me. I had realized, only well after the fact, that I had slipped from actively loving my wife to merely taking her for granted. I have since learned that this is the quickest way to kill any sense of romance in a marriage. My wife just settled into her routine, patiently waiting for me to hear her, actually hear her, and to correct my mistakes in regards to how I live my life, as well as how I treat her, but one saying comes to mind: Abused patience turns to fury. - Thomas Fuller

She has felt that she was no longer the adventure, not inspiring enough, and not worth my efforts, but just too much trouble for my self-absorbed lifestyle and mindset to deal with. In other words, she didn't feel that she was the beauty to be loved wholly. In response to this, it is only natural that a woman puts up her self-defenses towards men in general, and especially the men in her life that can still hurt her, like her husband.

To a certain degree, I recognized this on an intellectual level, but I wasn't truly learning it. As I have done my reading, I have extended my reach of reading into the world of women. I'm new at it, and by no means an expert. In fact, I'm scared beyond my ability to fathom such fear. Men are simple and easy to figure out. Women are a bit more complex. Yet I press on, because if I am ever to be able to get it, I am going to have to expand myself into the realm of a woman, to understand her mind, her heart and her soul. This is the part of true manhood, which I never really knew about. I grew up knowing only a few things about girls: they have cooties (we all learned this early on), they are nothing but trouble (I learned this from DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince as well as shows like Jerry Springer), and as guys we just like them for some damn reason we can't figure out (and sex-ed class never answered that question)...which goes back to the trouble part. We know we want them, whether or not we know why, and once we have conquered them so to speak, we look around for the next one to conquer. Essentially most guys are bastards at some point in their life, with some of them eventually figuring out that isn't the way to go. Some guys remain just guys, and not men. Just because you turned 18, or moved out of your parents' house does not mean you're a man, in the true sense. Trust me, I've done both, and at the age of 31, I'm just beginning to fully realize that maybe I wasn't truly a man, but a still a lot more so a boy, or just a guy.

Most guys prefer to look at life as a series of puzzles and problems to be solved, and this applies to our attitude as women as well. Rather than looking at a woman as a problem to be solved, we forget that a woman is a vast wonder to be explored. An adventure to be had everyday of our lives, using our strength as men to tackle the adventure that is a woman. Not to conquer her and move on, but to get to really know her at the innermost intimate levels (not just sex). But to fully expose yourself to her, and allow her to feel safe in secure in making herself naked to you (again, in the proverbial sense). But to take a woman for granted, over a long period of time, can result in her building walls around her, that she feels she has to protect herself, control her world, to avoid the pain that a guy can bring her, to avoid the painful vulnerability and broken trusts that are the risk of any real relationship. In essence, by being just guys instead of men, we steal a woman's femininity, her very core, forcing her to replace it with something else a little less natural. Many of of guys act like we listen, but often we just hear the noises associated with Charlie Brown's teacher, and never get to understand the women in our life. And when they suddenly shoot lightning bolts out their eyes at you, or worse yet display apathy towards you, as guys we stand (or sit) there completely dumbfounded, as to why this might be. We run through our head what we have done. We went to work, we paid the bills, we took out the trash, we didn't cheat on her. What in God's name could be wrong?

Well, maybe that's the problem. We forgot about God. We forgot the true name that God gave us as men made in his image, instead bearing and living out the name the world gave us. We forgot that our wives or girlfriends are essentially the daughters of Eve, the mother of all mankind. That we are to continually seek and pursue her as much as we are expected to do with God. We are to seek true beauty, and true love with all our heart, in a never ending journey. For God really is both love and beauty, and a woman is the bearer of that image of God. Now, I see why we feel this natural inclination towards women. there is, no matter deeply buried, something in us that tells us to go after the woman. But as with most things, we always think we have the next day, or the next week, or year, or whatever to accomplish whatever project or mission in life we have slated for 'later'. But we really don't know, if you really think about it, if any of that will come to pass. We take today for granted, and thusly our women for granted. I know I have, and as I have been reading and seeing the truths for the first time in my adult life, I feel as though I'm being hit by a brick from Heaven. That brick is full of knowledge, but it hurts like hell when it smacks you. Like a spanking to a child, it sometimes requires a little bit of hurt, or a lot (my dad could really pack a wallop), to make the message clear. Taking a time-out doesn't always cut it, but rather the issue needs to be addressed swiftly and directly. Maybe then the lesson will take, and the mistake won't be repeated anymore.

Also as I read, and I have seen communications from friends or words spoken to me from a friend about situations they have had, and I hear, see, and feel the beauty they bespeak, and it pains me to hear it. It feels like hell, because what they write or say sounds wonderful, and romantic, and like the perfection of a dream world encapsulated in the small moments, and I realize that I didn't necessarily give enough of myself to provide my wife with more of a love story to such a high degree that she deserves. I realize life on earth and in relationships isn't going to be always perfect, but it could be more perfect than what it is now with even just the slightest efforts, of which I have withheld. I hold many good memories, many great thoughts and affections for my wife, but inside of me. I rarely let them out. I don't know if I'm just subconsciously trying to be the strong silent type, or if I'm scared of being told off or rebuffed in anyway to avoid my own pains.

I remember first seeing my wife in October of 1996 at our place of work. She was a vision of beauty to beheld. She had on jeans and this deep blue sweater. When I met her outside, she had on a heavy coat, and the hood was pulled tight around her face that only her eyes, her cute button of a nose, and her small mouth could be seen. I was very smitten with her. I didn't care who she was dating, married to, or whatever, I had to know this one girl; this beautiful woman who made my stomach churn, my legs weak, and not just my heart, but my mind skip a beat. I had to be careful and slow down my speech in order to sound like I had things 'together' and be impressive and all that manly macho bullshit I was convinced was the way to be.
And after 14 years since I first saw her, she still turns me on as much now as she did then. I just found a way, to my own detriment as well as demeaning to her, to hide it better.

I regret that beyond almost anything I have ever done in my life. And yet, I know that before I can repair us, I must first retool and build myself up to where I'm supposed to be, to be my true self, before she can accept my overtures in the same manner she did in our more innocent first days of teenage love. I think my lesson is one that many guys need to learn, and the quicker the better. For if one is truly honest, it's much easier to build up a happy woman than it is to heal her hurts that you inflicted.

And yes, even the thought of such a journey, to explore our own emotions, much less those of a woman, is one of the scarist ideas we can have. Acting on it as a mission is even scarier. Yet, regardless of the outcome in our personal life, we can draw upon the strength of God to enhance the warrior, the adventurer that lives within our soul, to make this journey into the unknown realms. We shall come out stronger in the end, should we see ourselves through it. And if we have a significant other in our lives, maybe that relationship, even if all seems to be lost and over, can become stronger and fuller than we could only imagine it to be in our dreams.

You just have to make yourself vulnerable, no matter how scary or hurtful the idea may be, and give everything an open-minded and honest chance. To go about it any other way is both unfair to yourself and those you love, but dead wrong in the approach.

Going It Alone

2010-10-18T07:23:00.000-07:00

I'm sure the title of this post has some of my reader's a bit curious, wondering if I'm alluding to something in my personal life. Well, yes and no.

It is my personal life since I'm involved, but it's also more of a general plan. Some readers may be aware that today is technically my wife's last day at her job. She left a little while ago to her office, where at some point she will be conducting her exit interview with her boss, who is in Texas, over the phone. As of the moment she doesn't have a next job lined up.

However, as stressful and scary as that may seem (and believe you me, there is a certain amount of stress, as my wife prefers to be active and moving forward), she did quite well for herself. She has 2 months of salary continuation and benefits lined up, which will get us to just about Christmas. She was also good enough to have secured herself a retention bonus. She intends on using that to purchase a second vehicle. This will enable the both of us with a bit more freedom to pursue our options. It will open up the hours of availability to work without necessarily having to worry ourselves about who's giving who a ride to work, or if alternate transportation needs to procured just to get to and from our respective work places. Also, in the event of a family function (which is always out of town)on either side, time won't need to be cut short for all, just because one of us needs the vehicle for work purposes.

It will also allow me the opportunity to expand my area of job searching to procure myself a second temporary part or full time job. As of the moment, I'm basically limited to my feet and/or a bike. With winter coming up, here in Iowa, that is not a pleasant option. I already work out in that crap with my current patrol job. Let me tell you, it is not the least bit fun. Well, okay, maybe the occasional fishtailing of the patrol car gets my adrenaline going and offers me a moment of feeling alive while performing mundane tasks.

Now, my wife is currently pursuing all avenues of employment opportunities, so as to make her salary continuation go that much further, be it for Christmas, paying off a bill or two, getting a little more car than her bonus can provide for, or to invest in her business. Either way, I'm not too worried about her employment prospects. She has worked very hard in her current job to advance to her managerial position, and has used the last couple weeks to learn more and further her training certifications to make her even more valuable to any prospective employer. I suspect she will end up with an even better job with more money, despite the economy doing its best to tank every one's bank account. She is a strong woman, with a strong will and desire to succeed at anything she puts her mind to. And believe me when I tell you, despite a lack of college degrees, she can easily learn, take on tasks, and excel beyond all expectations at any opportunity you give her a shot at. She really is that good. It can be quite intimidating at times to be in the company of such a strong woman. For a long time I subdued myself to her natural born leadership abilities, and have spent the last few years more or less hiding in my job, not progressing as I should be, preferring security (financially, not my job title) over success and any risk involved in attaining it. But to see how she has risen from temporary employees right up through the ranks of a major company, taking on the jobs of her superiors who were unwilling or unable to handle their own jobs, to eventually ending up in their position...well it's rather inspiring. I never took enough time to say these things to her face as standalone comments. When I did mention them, it was often couched between other subjects or me ranting on about something or another that wasn't that important, so she often missed me saying it when I did. So, Dani, let me be clear now as I have not been before: You are all these things and more!

And it took me quite a while, and a lot of introspection to get over the envy I had of her, but I too see myself moving forward one day at a time. I have a few old, long-ingrained, bad habits to rid myself of, but day by day, I get a little closer to that.

So now, in addition to regaining a second vehicle we are pursuing a path in which the both of us can financially sustain the family on our own. while she will maintain a full time job, she will also be pursuing her business goals to achieve the dreams she has for her family- financial security, the ability to help family as well as charitable giving, traveling, etc.

As I gain traction and secure that second job for myself, I will also be able to fulfill a few of my dreams- ridding myself of old debt (and avoiding any new debt that I can), fixing my teeth up so that I might have a more permanent and pretty smile to match this award winning face for radio that I possess. I can also afford to pay someone to workout with me and keep me motivated towards getting back my old body (except even better), and it will also open up the military option for me. All of that along with the book writing, will help move me toward the position to know that I could take care of my family if some freak accident left me alone to care for the family all by myself.

Now, we're not entirely alone in this as the title and thus far the body of this post might construe. My wife has been putting forth effort to help me with my writing, in technical terms as well as keeping me motivated to keep going even when I have those days where I just don't want to do anything more at the moment, along with advice on future projects I'm already looking at. And of course, as my side of the financial equation rises as well, it will also allow me to help her in her personal endeavor by providing more investment and revenue streaming through her business lines (I'm not sure if I'm allowed to give out her affiliations or not- if she gives me the go ahead, I'll re post and add it in later, as well as hit on it in the comment section for your updating pleasures).

Combined, not only will our efforts help us out financially, but it will give us the opportunity to help our kids participate in more of the activities, sports and otherwise, that often times have seemed cost-prohibitive to us. In addition to that, when we see someone in need, be it my buddy and his wife raising money to adopt their two daughters, or a local charity or just a stranger in need. If our hearts are moved, the decision to give or not won't be so easily influenced by the almighty (well, maybe not so mighty these days) dollar bill.

A New Accolade for The Mind of Mookie

2010-10-06T08:03:00.000-07:00

After years of hearing the legal fine print voiced over in commercials on TV, and reading it in advertisements for contests, I have come to the conclusion that Rhode Island is filled with nothing but very, VERY boring people.

You can't participate in any contests that might garner you a little extra cash, special vacation cruises, or vacations period. I have deemed that this blog, The Mind of Mookie, shall join the extremely extensive list of items banned of voided in the Commonwealth that is Rhode Island.

I may not be the smartest or the funniest guy within my small circle of the vast blogosphere, but I'm pretty sure that I have had enough funny moments provided to me by the cat or my kids, that the content has exceeded the allowable levels of fun set by the powers that be in Rhode Island. Thusly, if you look up, you will see that I have made this distinction in the subtitle.

Yes, like most other awards I have, I made it up and have done nothing of importance to earn them. I have not received an official letter from the State/Commonwealth of Rhode Island. However, if anyone can pull the right strings, I'd appreciate a nice framed copy of an official resolution from their legislators declaring this blog and/or me void in their state. There's really two parts as to the why I want this to happen. One, it gives me a superficial feeling of false importance. And two, if I'm void there, I think it might hold up in the right courtroom if they try to nab me for excessively speeding through that tiny little dominion. After all, if I'm void, then clearly I don't legally exist...so that mailbox that got hit by a car, and the other car that got sideswiped a couple blocks later while the police gave chase... literally all happened over NOTHING! Although I suppose that technically I'd need a lawyer to craft a change of venue to California for the trial, since that may be the only place in this great country of ours with an insane enough judicial system that such an argument could work.

Of course I shouldn't have to worry too much about it anyways. I'm not exactly as puritanical as those people, and for all I know they have a toll booth to get into the state where you are also given a morality exam prior to admittance. For residents leaving, they probably hand out free King James Bible's to any persons not carrying there own copy while traveling outside to the heathen states. "

"Must resist the temptation to play the New Jersey Lotto. Must resist signing up for a free barbecue grill and accessories kit at an out of state supermarket. Must resist pulling up the internet and visiting the Mind of Mookie blog. Please Dear Holy God O Lord, give me the strength to resist the evil temptations that might make life worth living that I might again return to this Holy Sanctuary of a state where I can again learn to love the joys of boredom and smacking my head with a ball-peen hammer repeatedly to end my want for physical life and any jopy it might actually bring so that I might come and rejoin You in Your Glory...Amen"

I'm not sure, but does this mockery of ultra puritans count against me at the Pearly Gates?

Writing To Write

2010-10-04T11:01:00.000-07:00

So, its been a couple of weeks since I've written anything down on this blog. Most of my writing during this time has been either notes to my wife, or adding more writings to one of my books.

At count yesterday, formatting the book to a smaller size than the standard Word document of 8.5" x 11", I had 150 pages typed out. I have since added a few more chapters. Obviously it is all rough draft at this point, and I expect once I move forward with the publishing aspect, that an editor will start eviscerating my works and paring it down to a much smaller number. So the more I write now, the closer I'll be towards having a book of decent length when I go into my rewrites.

I have also used some of my weekend to hang out with my boys. The youngest boy, Buggy, recently learned how to ride his bike. Last weekend all four of us took a short ride around our part of town. Since then I took the boys onto a nearby walking/bike trail for some more experience off the streets. The oldest boy, Josh, has just been speeding along on his bike, getting out ahead of myself and Buggy, before stopping and waiting for us to catch up, and then continuing on his merry little way. Josh was sick this weekend, and is in fact on the couch behind me right now, home from school. So Buggy and I went for a nice little ride father-son ride by ourselves while Josh hung out at home and my wife was baking pies and cleaning the house. I don't get any of the pie. this is a bit of a disappointment to a pie lover like me, but it is the going exchange rate for our friend Trevor coming over and helping me fix the brakes on my car. Pretty sweet deal I'd say.

Anyways, Buggy got to decide which way to go, which he took great delight in. We road through a small residential subdivision to the west of us that is a pretty hilly terrain. He had mixed feelings about the downhill treks at times, worrying he was going too fast and might wreck himself, but he soldiered on and even managed to use his little legs to pedal himself right up some fairly long hills. There was only one moment in which he scared the bejeezus out of me. We were going on a downward slope, and as we traveled down the sidewalk he was out in the lead, pedaling away instead of coasting. I saw the car beginning to back out of the drive. I yelled at him to stop, but sometimes his own panic causes him to seize up and not hit the brakes. Luckily the car stopped and he steered himself right around it. I had the girl in the car apologizing to me for not seeing him, and him apologizing to me for not stopping in time. I was just glad he was okay, and did not relish the idea of having to tell his mother to meet us at the emergency room because he got smacked by a car! From there, we went and road on the bike trail once again, stopping for a few moments for him to play at a playground that abuts the trail, before coming home. I'm not used to the biking after so many years that I was getting tuckered out, and eventually he too was getting tired in the legs, as he opted to walk the bike up a few hills not nearly as steep as the ones he had pedaled up before.

I've also spent a considerable amount of time just reading. Mostly on the subject of manhood, and how to be a more considerate, participating, and loving husband and father. I've come to realize that I've spent most of my adult life, more as a guy than an actual man. So, while its taken me some time to wake up from the me-centric self I have been, I'm working on improving that aspect of my life, so that I might be a better person all around as God intended for me to be. And to play my part as leader and scout and provisionary for my family that He also intended for me.

Right now I'm reading the book Tender Warrior by Stu Weber, a former Special Forces guy turned Pastor. Once I'm done with that I will be diving into Wild At Heart and its sequel by John Eldredge during my time of personal and spiritual development. Now I just have to learn how to loosen up some more around people in public instead of being the frumpy, keep-to-myself jackass I've turned into over the years.

That's really all I have to say at this point in time. So welcome to October I guess...

ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT!!

2010-09-20T06:51:00.000-07:00

Sunday nights are always the longest (a 12 hour shift instead of an 8) and the slowest as well. So often I am left with plenty of time to get everything done and have some time to kill. However, someone else in the area decided to use their time to kill me!!!

The attempt appeared to most to be random, but after consulting my security counsel, headed by the esteemed Colonel Beauregard Sterling Lovell, it has been determined that this was in fact a very real and present danger aimed at destroying the last hope of the free world by eliminating the head of the Mookist Regime (That'd be me, people, pay attention!).

Of course the attack on me was only another plot in a series of recent events designed to take down the Mookist Regime. First, the fleas were sent in to bring down the Colonel. However, having been on post, I was able to douse, soap, scrub, and re-douse the feline. The Colonel was not happy, and didn't come around me for almost 24 hours for fear of getting it again. I have, over the years of his pitiful life, become almost violently and deadly efficient with my flea bath tactics. Instead of a long drawn out regurgitation of the War On Pests, this battle lasted a matter of minutes before the flea army was vanquished in one fell swoop, and about 25 gallons of water. Not one scout flea has been seen since the initial discovery of the insurgent bastards. Mookist Regime: 1, Enemies: 0

Then last night, at almost the stroke of midnight, a bigger, much more determined enemy decided to take their crack at the Mook, this time in human form. Clearly they knew that I am bulletproof with my soft gelatinous outer crust, and opted not to spray me down in a drive by, or hit me with a rooftop sniper. Nope, they did it the way they like to take out freedom loving Mookamaniacs the world around: Improvised explosive devices, or IED's for short. Most of you have heard of these deadly devices throughout the news as al-Qaeda has been known to use them all over the place to take out American soldiers in their various combat zones.

Well, my friends, it's clear that al-Qaeda has decided to step up their attacks, not overseas, but right here at home, in the good old U.S. of A.

That's right, despite what the White house or the Pentagon may or may not tell you, al-Qaeda has sent operatives right here to the Heartland! They may try to spin this off as just some random act perpetrated by pranksters, or some right-wing nutcase riled up by the likes of Rush, Hannity or Glenn Beck himself, or maybe just some poor soul who lost their house to the evil banks, but I assure you, after much research and maybe some enhanced interrogation techniques (but don't hold us to that, we will deny, deny deny!), that this was an orchestrated attack, hours, maybe even DAYS into the planning stages before they decided to unleash their evil plot.

Clearly they had infiltrated the Rentacop Headquarters, and gotten hold of the scheduling. They saw that I would be working, and that Supervisor Stew would be on duty. Once the suspicious device had been seen being delivered, it would be reported to Supervisor Stew. And Stew, always trusting in the Mook, would call me up to get me involved in the situation. One of the oldest tricks in a terrorists playbook: The Lure. You see, they purposely are seen dropping a package off, in an effort to bring in the command forces (like Stew) and any super duper tactical specialists (like myself). Usually the tactical specialist would go in for a close look and KABOOM, nothing but specialist krispies going snap crackle and pop in a smoldering mess of blood and guts. However, since I'm a SUPER DUPER (that's a technical designation) tactical specialist, I'm not easily fooled like that. Nope, instead we did the smart responsible thing and called in the local authorities bomb squad. It was either that or get into a big hissy fit over who had ultimate authority (clearly me), and that would've just made things a lot more difficult, and of course we're all about action around here. So anyways, the local authorities brings in the big fat bomb squad truck, also known as Natasha. Due to the damp conditions, they did not bring out the cool remote controlled robot, also known as Frank. So, one of the bomb techs suited up in the big EOD blast suit. If you haven't seen the movie The Hurt Locker you may not know what I'm talking about. But basically it turns you into some kind of martian looking guy, only way more bad ass. He has to walk in the x-ray equipment, to get an idea of what is in this small box we have discovered. After getting the pic and taking the equipment back to the truck, they are able to determine that there is "something" in the box, but not likely to be explosive. So the both of them take the long walk back to the box. Just as Tech 1 reaches the box to probe the edge, Tech 2 holds a cover position about 25 yards back. Tech 1 removes the paper cover (adorned with the word surprise,only with letter written backwards on it), and then proceeds to lift the box top off. Then it happened...

No one else saw it, but banana shaped missiles came flying out, under the cover of stealth cloak directly towards me. If I hadn't knelt down to light up my cigarette, I surely would've been decapitated. Luckily for the bomb techs it was rigged to go in one precise trajectory instead of full spread, or they would've been dead before they knew what they had found.

What they found instead was really weird. A couple banana peels, rubber banded together, with some crumpled paper inside them and a pen inserted thru the middle. Definitely something done on purpose and not just some random throwing trash out the window, thats for sure. I'm beginning to think al-qaeda must have some issues descrambling their Netflix account to get the MacGuyver episodes to play all the way through. Clearly they missed something, or they watched MacGruber instead of MacGuyver....hard to say, but either way, it was a near miss!

However, it turns out the War Chests are a bit depleted right now. But just think, you can change a life, and maybe even the world, if you adopt a poor little mook like (well, insert whatever picture of a poor starving lil child that makes you want to give money). Remember, 100% of all donations go towards fixing up the mooks, so they can go out and change the world. All for just a few dollars a day (Man, I really wish one of those adopt-a-kid commercials would come on, so I could make this even better!) you can change a lil mook's life, so that he can go arm himself to the hilt heavier than an AC-130 gunship and end all these wars by killing the bad guys, while still winning the hearts and minds of everyone else...even if he has to do a public version of the Carlton Dance to get that done!

Changes

2010-09-13T07:55:00.000-07:00

Changes in life are often gradual and only noticed by those closest to you, and to those who haven't seen or heard from you in years. For everyone else, everything is just what it is at the moment.

For me, I am in the process of changes to be made in my life, for better or worse has yet to be seen. Some are known changes to my readers, others are new and hold the potential for me to get an earful over it all from certain specific parties whom I have not consulted as of yet. Well, For those people, I guess this post is the notice they're being given, I'll probably have to start screening my calls to avoid certain conversations I don't want to have, as I'm pretty sure I know just how they'll play out.

When I was younger I always lived for the present to lead me to the future. As I got older, I found that most of my life has been consumed with work for the sake of paying bills. Nothing really goes on in my life, with the exception of those that surround me providing me with something interesting to talk about for the moment. All I have is this profound attachment to the past, and all my stories come from there and there alone. I'm sure some people have heard the same damn things come out of my mouth over and over and over again. Meanwhile life passes by like a long movie. Only I'm not in the movie, but merely one of the people who spent $15 on the ticket, $350 on the popcorn and the soda, and sit idly in a semi-comfortable seat alone in the theater watching everyone else play out their parts in the movie. I try to get involved in playing a part in the movie, but as soon as I get started I just stop. I don't know why, that's just the way it always seems to work out.

So, some of my changes.
1. Well, first off I killed my facebook page altogether. Without warning to anyone whatsoever. I just decided it was a big distraction and time waster. All I did was hold disjointed conversations on other people's comments or on photos, and the occasional game. As I have thought about it, I realized that my application of facebook is essentially useless at this time. So it's dead now. I realize I once wrote a post about people killing off their facebook is just the first step before they end up killing themselves. I can assure you this is not the case. Believe me, I'm just too damn stubborn to die. I have too much of a juvenile and perverted joy in irritating people by merely existing as an incorrigible ass.

2. As some of you know that I've been on again/off again on writing books. I think I'm about 85% of the way there on one, as far as my writing it goes. On the other, its been stop and start, as I keep re-editing as I go along the confusing world of politics and how I see the world and how I think the world should be. Both however have in common with each other the fact that I have taken way too long to write short books, when I see authors churning out sometimes as many as 2 and 3 books within half that time period. It leaves me in awe, and makes me wonder if I have what it takes to even put one out. Nevertheless I intend to see these two books through to completion by the end of the year, and then I have to figure out the process of how to get them published and maybe make a few bucks.

3. Simultaneously, I have another mission to occupy my time besides reading and writing. I have dental work that needs to be done. However, it being me, my dental work is never simple and relatively inexpensive. With my current insurance coverage, I still need to come up with about $850 or so to cover the costs. My paychecks currently don't allow for this extra money to come along in any timely fashion. So I have done some job searching. During the day I am confined to how far I can walk, which limits the availability of places to be employed. As of yesterday I was given a bicycle by a guy who is probably a much better friend to me than I have or could be to him. He seems to give me and my family things, even though I have nothing I see of any value to offer him in return. To be honest I don't even know why I was chosen by him as a friend in the first place. Either way, the bicycle will allow me to stretch out my boundaries as to where I can go for a part time day job to supplement my full time overnight job. I am only looking for something temporary so that I might use that income to take care of my teeth situation, which will allow me to take care of the bigger mission in my life...

4. Military service. I was officially released from the military after 2 1/2 years of service. Due to unforeseen medical issues, I fell short of my initial contract by a good 3 1/2 years. That has always bothered me. And because my current dental issues arose since I have left the service, it is something I must take care of before being allowed to sign up again. In my eyes, the sooner the better. At this rate it's looking like next spring, but we'll see if it doesn't happen quicker. I look at it like this. By re-signing up, I can complete something in my life that had always been my goal growing up, and maybe in the process recover a bit of the confidence I seem to have lost over the years. I know, some weird psychobabble stuff, but something that I think may actually be true in that realm, concerning me anyways. I would've joined years back, but I essentially used my family as an excuse, that I had to stay and take care of them, working away at some meaningless job with crap pay just to pay some bills, maybe knock down some ill-gotten debt, and put food in their bellies and a roof over their head.
My plans are to go back to the part time duty with the National Guard, pick a job that will allow me to serve at the camp up the road from me here in the Des Moines area when drill time comes along. It is also my desire to go through the entirety of boot camp, and be on a standby volunteer list for deployment as soon as possible after graduating from AIT. A lot of units here in Iowa are currently deploying, or preparing for their deployment to Afghanistan right now. So most likely, I'd have to request a temporary assignment with a unit out of state to accomplish this, but those are my intentions. It's not that I'm some kind of war junkie or anything. I've never experienced a real war, and so my desire is two-fold. One is to quickly dissolve any false romanticisms of war that resides in the minds of many young American boys before they get there and realize that long standing axiom, 'War is hell.' The second part of it is, that I might replace someone else who has already done more than their fair share of tours, and actually protect the necks of those that have been braver than I. If and when I come back from that scenario, hopefully I will be more of the man I'm supposed to be.

5. To be a better father and husband. While I work myself into total apathy providing for the most meager of family needs and little else, I find that I have continually and steadily disengaged from my family. Occasionally there are moments where we do things as a family, or my wife and I do things as a couple. Most often though, family activities consists of what my wife and kids do while I'm either working or sleeping. My kids lives are playing out like that movie I made reference to earlier. My days and weeks seem long, yet the years go by so fast I can barely keep up. My kids will still wrestle with me once in awhile, or follow me to the park or on a walk in some blind allegiance, merely because I'm their dad. I hear a lot more though about me being mean, or mad dad, mostly because my interactions with them seem to be geared more towards telling them they can't do this or that activity, or to stop whatever loud activity or bickering is going on. I also know that slowly my wife has been changing over the years while I'm just the lump in the bed that needs fed occasionally before he goes to work. I don't understand much about her anymore, I let a lot of my efforts sluff off into the abyss. I spend more time examining bank balances, paycheck stubs and bills, along with time trying to forget about them for a few hours while online or watching the idiot box across the living room, maybe concentrating my thoughts on my actual work to avoid any real issues. I used to be my wife's best friend. I know now that I am not at this point. And unfortunately for the lazy-natured Mook, only I can fix that, as much as I'd like an easier route of outsourcing that task. It will take massive amounts of effort to develop my ability to communicate verbally and with multi syllabic words and complete sentences, as well as open up some form of emotion that can be expressed. I know it will take some time before I can make my wife see that maybe I am worthy to be her best friend again, and that we can share a love that we once had when we were just kids. But again, only time will tell on that case.

So yeah, I have a full plate and no idea which course to partake of first, next, and on down the line to the dessert. Having been essentially the living dead for the past few years, floating aimlessly along, the task of being emotionally and actively pursuant in life is not exactly what you would call underwhelming. I can only ask that you wish me luck in my endeavors to go from being nobody special to someone who can be acknowledged as an actual living breathing person.

A Little Friday Fun

2010-09-09T11:38:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile, and while the muse hasn't struck me, it has struck a certain hygiene product's advertiser...it's a nice play on words with a bit of adult humor BARELY shadowed over!
Enjoy:

New Blog By Old Guy Added To My List

2010-07-22T08:31:00.000-07:00

(title note: I'll take my potshots where I can)

So yesterday, as usual, I sit down at the computer with my coffee. I got an email message from my old (no pun intended) High School English teacher, Larry Sorensen, or as I know him: MR. Sorensen.

When it comes to addressing people I grew up with, especially teachers, I find myself confused as to call them by their actual name, or to continue to address them with formal title. Fifteen years ago, if I had called the guy Larry, I surely would've been flogged. Not sure if a teacher flogging a student back those many years was legal, but I wouldn't put it past him, and I think he and I both know I would never have said a word about it. The thought of being flogged again for being a rat wouldn't have set well in my mind.

Anyways, I get a message from him telling me about his new page where he will be blogging and also doing some occasional poetry as well. I read some of his writings, and like his personality, his writings can be quite humorous. I think a lot of you who read this blog (I'm still not sure what in the hell you were thinking by doing that), will find Mr. Sorensen's blog much more humorous, witty, and entertaining. At least it'd better be. I'm an idiot with random musings, he actually taught this reading and writing stuff. His poetry teachings never stuck with me, nor the whole speech thing, or...well most of it never stuck. I spent my time in his class usually paying more attention when he was just talking and telling stories. I personally found them more valuable and entertaining, although he did have us read a few good books that I still remember. Just for the record, Great Expectations was not one of them, in my humble opinion. But like I said, I'm an idiot, and wouldn't recognize great literature if it walked up to me and socked me in the nose. I still keep Calvin & Hobbes on hand for my heavy reading. Either way, I stayed awake in his class, which is more than I can say for a lot of the other teachers I had.

So head on over to Larry's page- Just Jokin' and give it a read. I haven't found a comment section, but he does have a contact page if you want to give him feedback or just swap stories about what a punk I am.

I Need An Indestructible Mechanical Head

2010-07-19T09:57:00.000-07:00

So, I went back to the dentist today. Now some of you know that I have only two whole real teeth left in my mouth. Well today was x-rays and cleaning, in preparation for even more work.

I once had my mouth to the point of being almost completely taken care of. Then a wisdom tooth comes out of nowhere, and due to finances at the time I couldn't afford to have it pulled so that I could re-insert my bottom partial. That was a couple years back. A few months ago I had the deteriorated wisdom tooth pulled. And now I wanted to get refitted for a new set of bottom teeth.

So I went to the dentist who insisted on checking the integrity of my two teeth. As usual, there had been some deterioration underneath where the crown had been placed. It is my opinion that the previous dentist put the crowns on too soon before allowing my mouth to heal up properly, so the crown didn't go all the way down into my gum line the way it should. The dentist didn't come out and say it, but I think she agreed.

With the current crowns, a lot of the tooth is blocked from the view of the x-rays, and they found a slight cavity, but they have no idea how big it may be underneath the crown. Lovely. Just friggin lovely. this is of course after being subjected to a long time in the torture chamber, err, dentists chair to get scraped, poked, and all cleaned up. I swear the work on those two teeth took longer to get cleaned up than any dentist in my life had taken on me when I had a full set. I've never LIKED going to the dentist, but it was never an excruciatingly dreadful experience that I freaked out about going, like some people do. But after this session, I think I'm not liking them so much anymore. The sound of them scraping my teeth reminded me of fingernails on a chalkboard, or dragging a coffee mug across a rough counter top tile. The mere thought of which makes the teeth I no longer have hurt like hell. I hate that friggin noise!

Well, I go in on Thursday to get my upper relined for a better snugger fit. Then we go to work on the two bottom teeth. One needs to have some buildup work done on it to protect the tooth underneath that crown better. Then there is the left one, the one with the cavity. They will be cutting the old crown off to inspect the extent of the cavity damage. Then we'll proceed to either fill it in and cap it, root canal it and cap it, or insert a post to hold the remainder of the tooth and new crown in place. Then we go on the partial to clip in.

I do want to thank my wife for taking a job that covers my dental needs in her benefits package, without also having to charge me for the health insurance itself as a costly prerequisite that I won't use anyways. My company offers benefits, but they cost a bit too much and aren't nearly as good as her insurance. And quite frankly I'd like to have something resembling a paycheck rather than forfeit it all for substandard insurance.

I have an immune system that I would put up against any one's at anytime. but for some reason, no matter what I do for my teeth, no matter how many thousands of dollars I put into them, they just SUCK!

I think that while we're at it, I just have them lop this head off, sculpt a desirable face and make me a new one out of titanium or some other almost impossible to destroy alloy. Then I could have razor sharp shark teeth put in, so I could just walk into a field along any number of our Iowa roads and get my beef straight from the source with a simple biting. No need for all those middle men involved in rendering, distributing, cooking and serving my beef at a marked up cost. Of course, if I ever bite my tongue, that might prove disastrous. Maybe we'll go with dull-razor sharp teeth? But then I would also never have to worry about shaving anymore. And they could insert my eyes with x-ray and infrared capabilities, telescopic sighting, and maybe even a smart weapon technology that would allow me to aim any piece of my arsenal just by moving my eyes to the target. Now THAT would be cool! And of course, entertaining the family by installing a laser pointer in there to make the cat chase it around the floor and up the walls. That's always a good time for all who get to see it. Cats are psychotically driven to chase those things. And right now, the only thing my cat goes after with that sudden movement capability is a fly. He ate one yesterday after chasing it around the apartment for about 5 or 6 minutes yesterday.

Of course once I get that installed, I'm sure there'd be someone like Sarah or John Connors coming to destroy me since I would be too much like one of the terminator machines. But, at least I wouldn't have any teeth issues anymore, and life would be grand. And, I could just pull back my facial skin at Halloween to freak the kids out!

Anyways, hopefully within the next month to month and a half, this will be all done, and then I can just go in for 6 month cleanings/check-ups and not worry so much...except for that incessant scraping noise!

10 Years Later....

2010-07-01T09:48:00.000-07:00

Really Beautiful Wife, Or 12th Russian Spy Confirmed

Ten years ago today was the day my status went up in this world. I married my wife, which infinitely improved my life. On a facebook post I made earlier today to the same effect, she commented that it was the second semi-public sweet thing I've done/said within the last week. To be honest I'm not sure I remember what the first one was, but I wasn't about to ask her right then. She'll read this and then inform me of whatever it was, maybe. In the same breath/typing she wondered if I had been dropped on my head or something recently. I've informed her that she has the rest of her life to be confused about when I've fallen on my cranium and when I'm just being her usual suspect.

While she was preparing for work, our youngest was messing with her hat on the couch. The same hat on her head in this picture, and the same hat I blogged about previously in which I have identified it as her "commie hat". She told me to quit calling it that, when I identified it as such to Corwyn. I stated as matter-of-factly as usual that I call it that because that's what it is. I mean c'mon! Look at it! Standard Communist Revolutionary Headgear! I've seen footage from Cuba, and other central and South American communist revolutionary periods in which this very kind of hat was quite prominently worn by those who felt oppression of the masses, in the name of the masses was far better than a more possibly freedom-inducing environment. I also mentioned that I may have found an undiscovered 12th member of the Russian spy ring, recently uncovered by the FBI.

Her Response? "Why do you say that? Am I THAT hot?" Now to the untrained eye, this merely seems like a woman baiting a guy for a compliment. But for a professional Rent-A-Cop like myself, this was a veiled confession. I responded with some random psychobabble to avoid her catching on that I knew about her secret identity. And then I took this picture. She asked why. I said I might need it for a blog. She was rightly suspicious of me and my blogging intentions. However, she had to go to work, and didn't have time to delete the picture hastily, in order to keep from having her cover blown. Well, it's too late, and right here, in front of the world (or at least my 8 or 9 readers), I am shedding the light on more undercover spy agents in our midst! The media made light of the attractiveness of one of the Russian spies, but my wife is likely to make that one look like a big pile of dog mess in comparison.

I find myself confused at this moment. I am feeling inordinately patriotic having uncovered this plot against not only my country, but the Mookified compound itself. At the same time, I don't know how I missed it. She has no accent and speaks absolutely zero Russian as far as I can tell. She clearly was deep undercover. She convinced her mother that she came from her, and has blended in with family very nicely. Almost as if, she had been one of them since birth. Brainwashing must have occurred at a highly secret Soviet-era facility to unknowingly bring her whole family into the fold. Then in a move that could only be conjured up by remnants of the KGB, she infiltrated my life, made me fall in love with her, marry her and have two sons with her. She speaks as though down home conservative hate mongering is her native language, yet she pretends to detest talk radio.

However, her espionatic (I'm pretty sure I made that word up, but please feel free to use it openly and spread it around) ways were not enough to keep her subconscious need for comrade wear buried away forever. And she doesn't mind vodka on occasion. Maybe that was the giveaway. In my America-loving opinion, only hard core alcoholics (which my wife is not) and commies (I'm beginning to question things here)can really and truly enjoy a nasty concoction made from potatoes such as Vodka! BLECH!

Now I have read reports that the other 11 haven't been charged or suspected of any real espionage. However, the possible finding of the 12th Commie (not to be confused with the 12th Imam), squarely embedded within the Mookist Compound? Clearly the idea that high-level espionage has been occurring has to be considered. After all, with all the wealth of knowledge and power that resides with the Mook and his trusty sidekick, Colonel B.S. Lovell, mining the information that lies within these walls and turning it over to Russia could be detrimental not only to the General and his people, but to the world at large! You think the worldwide economic meltdown was horrendous, or the BP gulf oil spill insanely dangerous? Just wait and see what happens if my wife gets away with this.

I just remembered something vitally important. She'll read this before coming home. By the time you read this I may be dead, from her dispatching a secret assassination squad, or be transported to a secret gulag somewhere in the remote regions of Siberia. Not only then will Russia keep her secret safe, but the anti-Mookist forces out there will gain an even stronger foothold, which is equally bad, if not worse.

Of course, despite all that, I'll still technically be able to lay claim to having a really hot wife!

Afghanistan: Questioning the Leadership and the Mission

2010-06-24T07:59:00.000-07:00

From Jeff Emanuel on RedState.com:
By now, you’ve heard or seen the news: President Obama (D-IL) has accepted the resignation of Gen. Stanley McChrystal, who had until now been in charge of the coalition’s erstwhile efforts in Afghanistan, and is attempting to demote General David [Betray Us] Petraeus from CENTCOM commander to czar of the eastern front of the [Global War on Terror] Isolated Effort to Diplomatically Prevent Man-Caused, Non-Islam-Related Disasters.

And from the blog of my friend, Scott who is also a professor of Political Science at the University of Maine: World in Motion:

The problem is that planners, both civilian and military, can always dream up a plan that on paper looks like it might work. It’s akin to a football coach putting together a plan for a play that should be able to score a winning touch down. If executed right, if the defense plays as we expect, and if there are no other difficulties encountered, then we should score.

And one last quote:
"I am appalled that Obama did not contact Col. B.S. Lovell to replace McChrystal in Afghanistan!" From Eric Stone, to my facebook wall. What President wouldn't pick a face like this to lead a big and important command?

(Note: this message was removed from my facebook wall somehow. Either Eric changed his mind, or facebook has become involved in the anti-Mookist movement gaining hold here in the U.S.)

Let me be the first to tell you that the Colonel has seriously considered putting his name in contention for the Afghan Post. He has relayed to me, that given the general rules of engagement over there aren't much different than here at the Mookist Compound. He gets to see the enemy all day, but unless he is directly attacked, he is given little latitude to operate as a top notch combat fighting machine. He has informed me that despite all this, he has opened up a can of whoop ass on a particular 6 year old in this household more than once. The Colonel estimates, in his own highly self-important position, that fighting a 1000 fully armed Taliban fighters while weaponless himself would be an easier task than living with the little punk.

The Colonel has decided if these guys can do it, he most certainly could handle the job

That information notwithstanding, the Colonel has decided ultimately against the top posting position in The Afghan Theater. He said he really does have a desire to make it on the cover of Rolling Stone magazine himself, and would have no problems with spewing forth his ideas on how wrong the Commander-in-Chief is on certain issues not having military experience or expertise himself, not on the level the Colonel does anyways. He said he would be forced to resign, or end up in Leavenworth after publicly embarrassing President Obama in a hand-to-hand confrontation. He said if the President, acting as his boss or not, even consdiered not doing exactly what teh Colonel tells him to do, this WOULD happen. I believe the exact words were, "The President would most certainly witness my cat-like reflexes." The Colonel seems to think his use of puns is hilarious.

To drive his point home, he gacked up on the carpet right in front of my feet. Then walked off as though nothing had happened. Clearly the sign of the one master strategist who could win any war deemed unwinnable by humans. Cats are a little too pompous if you ask me, but then again he'd reply that he threw up all over my office and left me, The General, to clean it up my damn self. He could be right.

The Blessed Curse of Being Unknown

2010-06-18T11:34:00.000-07:00

For most of my life I have had a dual mentality. I love to be complimented, and at the exact same time I hate it. I also like being recognized, while also hating that simultaneously as well. Well last night, I hear from my supervisor just how recognized I'm not.

(Now, for full disclosure here, I don't really care in the end. I just don't mind bitching about overall meaningless shit that happens in my life. If you haven't figured that out yet, or don't believe me, ask my wife. She'll confirm it.)

The other night, after coming out of a building downtown, my supervisor and I notice a confrontation taking place a block up between a hotel security guard from another company and a homeless guy. It starts out verbally, and the next thing we know punches are being thrown. I look at my supervisor and ask if he wants to join the party. So we immediately head that way, but after a quick exchange the homeless guy goes taking off around the corner away from us and the hotel. Directly across the street stands a group of cleaners who had to have watched the whole ordeal, but "none of them saw anything." Of course we made sure the security guard was alright, and stood by ready to be his witnesses. Des Moines' finest arrived pretty quickly, got a quick description and direction of travel and went off to find the homeless guy. They swung back around within a couple minutes and picked up the hotel guy to go identify the perp. Solid ID was made and the guy taken to jail. The cops came back with the security guard and took down information from my supervisor and myself. No big deal.

However last night, my supervisor tells me our office received an email from the hotel. They wanted to extend their thanks for our part in as they put it: taking care of one of our own. Apparently all of us rentacops have our own brotherhood that I wasn't aware of until reading this email. In the email it said, and I quote: Two of your officers (Casey & an unknown)were leaving the Hub Tower and noticed the situation getting a little hostile.

Now, I'm the one guy with a name tag pinned on my chest, the police took down my info including name and all that, and it was my suggestion to go get involved in the situation, and I'm an unknown. That's just great! The letter goes on to say: I just wanted to make sure these gentlemen were noted as taking an extra initiative... This speaks highly of yourself and your officers in the eyes of the [Hotel name redacted]

Well now. That's fantastic. My supervisor Casey, and whoever the hell they figure on placing in the Unknown's slot, now have special regard for "their" initiative in assisting a fellow security officer. Damn supervisors hogging all the spotlight while relegating his underling to status of "YOU, whatever your name is...go do this for me!" What a high horse self important bastard, he is! (Casey, I know you're reading this...I still love you! Stew put me up to this...right after I mentioned blogging the crap out of it!)

You know, as much as I may like and hate a compliment or recognition, a backward compliment has got to be, by far, the worst kind of compliment to receive. It's like there's a committee doling out awards.

"And we'd like to confer special recognition, for all his hard work and extra efforts to...NOBODY!" The music plays, the crowd claps, and some putz goes up there that no one has any idea who the hell the guy is. I mean really..what the hell?

A few years back, when I was relatively new on the patrol squad, I caught a guy breaking into a house. I first found a broken out window pane. I searched the house, and after finding nothing out of place or anyone on site, I had my supervisor at the time get hold of the information to get in contact with the residents. While waiting, some dip wad shows up, I confront him, he confronts the floor, and my handcuffs develop a close personal bond with the guys wrists while we wait on the cops to show up and haul the poor dumb bastard off to jail. As much as I'm not a people person nor care to remember many of them, I still remember that poor bastard's name, 5 years later.

Well we have a meeting the next morning for all the people who run my route. I'm sitting next to the sales/service guy in our office, who also happens to be a former sheriffs deputy. He tells me that I did a good job, although I got really lucky with that whole situation. He then tells me that if the guy had been a professional burglar he would've put me on flat on my ass. Yeah, thanks for the backhanded compliment, buddy!

I realize I'm not some universally recognized bad ass or anything, but I can handle my own, and within that meeting room, there were about 2 guys I had any worry of not being able to take physically..and our former sheriff deputy of a sales guy was not one of those two. Former cop or not, I could've run circles around him all day and he would've dropped dead from a heart attack before besting me.

And to top it all off, my good job at breaking up a B&E didn't get me any recognition like "employee of the month". Nope, that went to a guard who stood at a Wells Fargo Bank along Ingersoll directing customer cars out onto the road around the construction the property was undergoing during the daytime. So for that one I get a backhanded compliment, and then essentially a slap in the face. I was Rent-a-Cop two years in a row (2007-8), and now, I can't even be given a name other than "Unknown". Sad Days!

Of course, let me screw something up. Then they got my name all marked down, double confirmed. And not just my name, but my FULL name: first, middle and last, pillorying me for all to know: The Mook has seriously %$#&*! up, people, please take a note of this mistake that he, MOOK, made. They say no news is good news. So maybe no name is good name?

Maybe when I die, I'll be given a tombstone for "Unknown Rentacop", that is watched over 24/7 by only the finest of rentacops (or, as we call them in the security business, 'any old warm body we can schedule for that slot'). I'd prefer a Marine, like the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, but I think that's shooting just a bit too high for a guy like me.

In the end, I suppose it is probably just another ploy by anti-Mookist forces. Conspiratorial bastards!

For 5 Years Running, I'm a Dork

2010-06-13T09:09:00.000-07:00

My wife has had fun at my expense on many occasions. I'm sure I'm not the only husband to be the target of shenanigans by their spouse, but my wife has seemed to have made an art form out of this. And sadly, I play into it every single year.

I opened up my facebook account yesterday while my wife was at the office taking care of some urgnet matter or another and I read this following statement she left on my page: "DORK. yes, i mean you"

Naturally, I have to directly question what this is all about. Granted, I realize that at any given moment I could be any number of things: dork, idiot, moron, smart-aleck, Einstein, etc., etc. A friend of ours who also has facebook simply added the comment under my question stating the obvious: "She is calling you a DORK!" Well, gee, really? I hadn't noticed that yet, Mac! I'm a lot of things, but I can still comprehend the english language. I get that she's calling me a dork, I'm just wondering why now? Why on a saturday, on my day off, where I'm sanely sitting at home in the air-conditioning watching one of my movies, while she's busy at the office on her day off, without additional pay, why am I the dork?

So later on I call my wife to see how much longer she's going to be working, since she expected it to be a couple hours, and we were going into hour #4. I also asked why I was a dork this time. She merely laughed and said she'd show me when she got home. Well, I'm not big on surprises, nor patience. My wife, however, is at least as stubborn as I am, and I have learned over the eyars that no matter how much I want to know whatever RIGHT NOW, I won't learn of it until she decides to impart the knowledge to me.

So she gets home, and I almost immediately ask what the "dork" comment is about. She begins her little chuckling while grinning thing she likes to do when she knows she has pulled the wool over my eyes (sadly, this happens alot). She looks at me, still smiling that devilish grin and says to me, "You fell for it again! Every year you ask why I say that."

Suddenly memory kicks in and I remember she has done this randomly at some point in the year for the last 5 years. It might be on facebook, it might be in a random email, she may say it on the phone, or when one of us is on the way out the door to work or where ever. She says it, just to get me paranoid and ask why she's calling me a dork.

I told her that she will not get me next time. That I will remember this so that next time she tries it, I will just not acknowledge it. She then reminds me I said the same thing last year..and the year before. I think she has Pavlov's Dogged me. I have become a social experiment in a literally dorky kind of way.

It may happen in January, or March or December of next year. But she will attempt it again, it's all completely random. Hopefully dementia will not again overtake me and erase this from my memory. She just walked up behind me and read this, and walked away giggling...I think I'm gonna have to beat her once I'm done writing this! Check local hospital listings for my name to see how that ends.

MARK MY WORDS! I will remember this time around. Five years of falling for the same damn joke is kind of embarassing for a guy like me. I favor myself the kind of person who doesn't get duped by anything or anyone. Although my track record here is not exactly edifying me in that respect.

If I fall for this one again next year, I may as well just reprint this with 6 in place of 5, and expect a whole host of laughter in the comment section. Yesterday was a sad day for the Mook, succumbing to the fact that while the man may be the head of the hosuehold, clearly my wife is the neck that turns the proverbial head. Kind of irritating to my unwilling to learn ego.

More on Denny's, Buggy, The Colonel, and Adoption

2010-06-08T07:47:00.000-07:00

Just to clarify the title a bit, none of those are actually related. Buggy stays here; the Colonel wont leave unless it is to go outside, but he would expect to be let back in; And so far Denny's hasn't adopted me...YET!

So first, lets go with Denny's. As some of you know, I have an unhealthy liking of Denny's Restaurants. I'd call it stalking, but since the buildings don't exactly move, and they WANT me to come in and eat their food, it doesn't technically qualify. But, if the Denny's went on wheels like the Ice Cream man, yes I would be one of the crazies running down the street begging for the guy to throw me a few pancakes to catch like some sort of dog chasing a car. And maybe an omelet, and some hash browns with the works. Sure it'd be messy, but my inner child will manifest himself and eat the stuff off of the pavement just like a kid who drops his candy in the dirt. It's just like sprinkles, that's all!

Anyways, so I started a Facebook group page dedicated to making me the next new face of Denny's. I haven't worked out all the details yet, but it basically involves them making me their real world advertiser. Some pics, some videos, some blogs about the Denny's I'm at, the city its in, employees, people in that city (in and outside of the Denny's), things like that. The first step is this page, to attempt to use facebook's networking capabilities to garner support from my friends, their friends, and whoever else may stumble upon it. It seemed to have worked well for Betty White to get asked to host Saturday Night Live. But she's a celebrity. Let's see how well this thing can work for a normal (I use that term loosely when referring to me) person.
Then we go to Denny's Corporate with a nice juicy plan for them and me. So if you have a facebook account, you can friend me, or just join the group or both. If you don't have a facebook account, you should make one for the pure purposes of helping out this effort. With no monetary support, and my having limited interactions with much of anybody, this is as grassroots as it gets. Plus, I'd get to travel to all the wondrous Denny's locations...and then maybe take in some of the local attractions, which of course are secondary to my favorite eating establishment.

Now, onto Buggy. He is just about to finish his year in Kindergarten in a few hours. As some of you readers know, this boy has managed to endear himself to the staff while sneaking extra breakfasts at school. In fact one of the staff mentioned that he specifically is one of the staff favorites when it comes to the kids. He recently came home with an award from his teacher. I assume its one of those things where every kid gets some kind of positive acknowledgement. His, unsurprisingly, was "Best Sense of Humor". He had surprised his teacher early in the school year by exuding an extremely dry sense of humor on top of the normal cackling little kid humor most people are used to from kids. So, as I said, neither his mother nor I were very surprised at this. I do believe that nothing will really surprise us with this particular son of ours. Even if he comes home one day and accidentally lets it slip out of his mouth the goings-on in other parts of the metro area, after having jumped on a city bus, or took off with a friends parents under the assumption that we knew about it and were okay with them taking him along, or just plain having walked. Or if he comes home with a ripped shirt and tells us how he had just scored the winning touchdown while scrimmaging with the local high school football team even though he is nowhere near old enough, and now was thirsty, not giving second thought to the fact that we might want to know what he's doing BEFORE he goes and does it...none of this would be surprising.

The older one, Josh, pushes his limits somewhat, but is generally more passive and willing to ask permission before going off to do much of anything. Corwyn on the other hand would be the one to tell everyone things are fine, and he doesn't need to ask permission to do stuff "he already knows he can do." I already know that when he is a teenager that he and I will be having the same stupid discussions my dad had with me when I came home at 3 or 4 in the morning. And he will irritate me because I have to have these discussion, but also because it will be just another set of opportunities for me to sound JUST LIKE the Evil Duane did, which I had promised to never be like when I grew up. Whenever I talk to Mom and Dad, he always laughs at me when I tell stories of what the kids have done 'this time.' I have another feeling that whenever the boys go up to see their Nana and grandpa that stories are told and ideas planted, just to expedite the process. I just can't prove it yet!

The Colonel is as feisty as ever. He'll nap in long stretches and leave you alone, until its time for you to be left alone by necessity. Then he shows up, wound up like a kid who just downed 12 giant Pixie sticks, followed by an entire 2 liter bottle of Coke. He makes weird growling noises as he runs back and forth through the apartment, sometimes only stopping his current path because his head ran into a wall, the door, a cabinet, or some furniture, before reversing paths back the way he came. He's a bit on the weird side. We are however in the midst of changing over his diet a little bit. It has been told to me by my friend Machelle, that the current cat food brand (which shall remain nameless) we have been giving the Colonel since we got him, was mentioned by her vet to cause crystals in the urine/bladder, and can seriously screw the cats system up over time. Whether or not its factual information or the vet is a shill for some other cat food manufacturer is beyond me. But one ingredient in the current brand is Zinc Oxide. Now maybe I'm wrong, but isn't that what people throw on their noses at the beach to avoid a sunburn, while causing them to look like an albino-nosed idiot at the same time? I treasure my cat's health, but I never thought to worry about his innards getting sun burnt, what with all that fur and abundance of fatty tissue and bone surrounding his digestive system. I have no idea why someone would stick zinc oxide into food. I am pretty sure that if I wiped the zinc oxide off your nose someday this summer and proceeded to eat it, I would not be doing too well later on that day, never mind the nasty taste left in my mouth. Turns out the stuff is nearly insoluble in water. No wonder they say an adequate supply of water is needed to maintain your pet's health. I have to wonder what amount is considered 'adequate.' Either way, we've made the switch over to Purina cat food, and are doing a mixture of both, until we work the Colonel into the new stuff entirely. Don't need to upset his bowels any, he already poops more than enough for a whole herd of cats. I'm hoping that the new diet will curb some of the pooping, the eating of paper and cardboard boxes, the strength of smell his pee comes armed with (it gets bad some days). And he can tone it down to normal cat like activities of snubbing me, and eating the children, things like that. I'm not thinking he'll calm down much on any of it, but I can always cross my fingers and hope.

Now onto probably the most important topic, Adoption. Some of my readers already know of the situation, but for the rest of you, I'll bring forth some enlightenment.
For awhile now, my good friends Jed and Naomi, have been looking to adopt children and have their own family. They have been working hard at saving money up and holding fundraisers, to get the over-$30,000 they need for this to happen at all. They have gone through the excitement of having a placement of 2 young girls, only to have their joy arrested when the girls were found to have been placed in the foster program fraudulently by their mother. The supposed dead father had showed back up. It was heartbreaking for all involved who have been supporting them, but I guess God had decided that those were not the children meant to be a part of Jed and Naomi's family. Well, after a long wait, far too long, they have 2 qualified little girls, ages 4 and 7, who have been vetted it appears, and ready for adoption. The court date is tentatively going to be this fall to make the adoption go through. While its months away yet, it also gives Jed and Naomi time to work toward the last few thousand dollars they need. It turns out Ethiopia has new rules on adoption to overseas. Instead of just one trip over, both Jed and Naomi will need to go over twice. Once for the adoption court date, and again to bring home the children to the United States. You can find some of their plans
here on their adoption blog. Please think it over, pray on it, whatever it is you do, and if you can give, even just a little bit, feel free to donate to their cause so that they might make their dreams of having a family come true! And, if you could, as a favor to me, or them, pass this section on to your friends, and see if they would be willing to help out as well! Thank you!

Thoughts On Memorial Day, 2010

2010-05-31T09:35:00.000-07:00

On this Memorial Day 2010, I offer forth some quotes in regards to this subject, along with some narrative.

"It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived." — General George S. Patton

Probably the most controversial commander of World War II, Patton was one of the most dedicated commanders to the art of war in modern time. He was a tactical genius whose objective was of one sole purpose: total victory. Often, Patton was considered brash, brazen and arrogant by not only those whom he served, but by those who served him. Even those soldiers who hated the general on a more personal level, as soldiers they respected the man's genius for war. He wasted no efforts with politics or political ramifications of his actions. He made all moves with victory in mind. Not just victory, but complete victory resounding in the crushing of all militaries who might oppose him. He cared not for people skills or political correctness, but despite the demands and sacrifices he made of his soldiers, he cared dearly for all who fought with him. While the first half of this quote leaves room to be misunderstood, one must first understand Patton himself. He made great efforts to know of the men who made the final and ultimate sacrifice, and to personally express the condolences toward those soldiers' families. Yet he also understood the sacrifice that we would all have been made to feel, had these men not answered their call to duty when they did.

"Let no vandalism of avarice or neglect, no ravages of time, testify to the present or to the coming generations, that we have forgotten, as a people, the cost of a free and undivided Republic." — John A. Logan

While there has always been an element of opposition to war within our country, even since before the War for Independence came about, ultimately we as a nation rallied behind not only our government, but more specifically our soldiers. Our fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, friends and all loved ones who answered the nations call in a time of war. It was ultimately they that found our support, constant and unwavering. After World War II, the landscape of warfare changed dramatically. No longer were we fighting the wars on the side of a seemingly tangible greater good, but by the winds of everchanging political doctrines. These political doctrines did not merely lead us into a war, but dictated the wagings of war as well. And thus the wars, no matter how far away they may be fought, we're brought directly into our living rooms with more constant and more disturbing footage. Every battle, every move was judged with a political eye by politician and citizen alike. At times, opinion dissident to that of the government was in fact so much that support for our soldiers had changed into acts of blind hatred en masse against soldiers themselves.

Especially now with our wars in both Afghanistan and Iraq, no move is made without great speculation from pundits, politicians, and citizens alike. Everyone has their opinions, which in their minds are almost as good as facts. Why a soldier chose to serve his or her country, or what propels them to continue that duty optionally in the face of constant danger and without end in sight, against an essentially faceless enemy can be found in reasons as varied as the soldiers themselves. Many question the soldiers reasons based on their own take, without ever having asked one who has done or is doing their duty. And they have every right to assert their freedom of expression and speech. I just caution them to remember that those rights were granted because of soldiers who answered the call of duty to first allow us to put those freedoms in place and later to help maintain them.

"In the midst of battle, all plans, all thoughts of freedom, and of those back at home go out the window. For in that moment we fight not for any of that but for our brothers next to us. That one day we might be able to remember the battle we fought together rather than being remembered." - Unknown

Today we remember those that gave their lives in battle for us and our country, and each other. Come Veterans' Day, we'll remember those among us who lived through those battles. Why we designate one day here and one day there for the strong warriors among us I will never know. Every day I give thanks for those who have both lived and died in the defense of America.

I was a member of the United States Army back in the late 90s. when some people find this out they thank me for my service. I don't know how to respond to such statements. I never found myself in some great war to define my service. Not that I relish the idea of going into combat. I just don't feel that I ever did anything worthy of being thanked for, no sacrifice to be made by me. I don't want to brush someone off, but I'm always at a lack for words when these moments occasionally come about.

When 9/11 occurred, I was fully entrenched in civilian life, married with one son. When I saw the footage, I as overcome with a lot of emotion. Not outwardly mind you, but there was something welling up inside of me telling me that I should go back and vounteer to fight those who wreaked havoc upon our soil and our citizens. After a talk with my wife, I chose to stay where I was, safe here at home. A part of me was glad to stay here with my family, another voice in my head was talking of my cowardice, that I would let others go fight and die in my stead. It really bothered me for a long time, to the point on a couple occasions where I almost left the house with full plans to re-enlist without my wife's knowledge or permission, the consequences be damned.

I wanted the adventure that would in my own eyes define my entrance into manhood, as well as the camaraderie and the structure the Army would offer me again. Today, an old Army buddy of mine and I ran up to the Post Exchange at Camp Dodge, the Iowa National Guard Headquarters. We grabbed some random supplies for ourselves, and on the way back home we discussed how we missed the life. And how, if we didn't have so much responsibility here at home with children and bills that would surely go unpaid with Army pay, we'd certainly go see a recruiter about getting signed back up, even in our early 30s. It seemed a nice justification, but again part of me saw the reasons as nothing more than hollow excuses we choose to hide behind. Surely there are many serving overseas with the same excuses and more who still answered the call of their country. For better or worse Duty, Honor and Commitment run through their blood to a higher degree than it seems to run through mine. I have a couple old buddies who were killed in action, some wounded, some serving in their respective theaters of war, and others serving stateside who will deploy later this year. Some of them read this, and they know which group they fit in.

All I can do is be thankful for those who made their sacrifice. No matter how small, big or final their sacrifice may be, or what manner they are serving: I thank you.

Mook's Allies Put Down Insurrection (AND DENNY'S!!!)

2010-05-25T08:15:00.000-07:00

A couple posts ago you got to read about the trip my wife and I got to take together. What was not told was a bigger story that happened at the Mookified Compound while we were away.

For those of you who know the Colonel, you know he has a tendency to be mentally unstable, like any other cat. When creating a relationship with a cat, things don't always go smoothly. The overall situation is often precarious at best. By appointing him as my executive officer, thus giving him some real power in our world, I made the situation even worse.

It's kind of like professional sports. You feed the athlete's ego, you pay him, and he becomes a bitchy millionaire who feels entitled. Well, the same goes for the Colonel. Minus the millions of dollars. He just gets bitchy when things don't go his way. By us leaving him home alone, we robbed him of his opportunity to decide when he would let us pay attention to him. Rather than accepting his responsibilities of guarding the Mookified Compound, he chose to throw a temper tantrum. Or more accurately, he chose to throw his food all over the kitchen. And, unbeknownst to me, there was a head of lettuce left out. It was found on the floor, with holes having been punctured through the plastic bag it came in, quite easily comparable to Cat-Inflicted-Damage (CID) marks.

Luckily for the Colonel, we had our ally in our friend Machelle. She had taken the kids for the weekend so the wife and I could get away alone, and also cleaned up the mess before my wife came home and found it. The Colonel would have surely been skinned alive before being made to meet his demise. And that also made me a lucky one. I would've been put on clean-up and burial details. And then I would have had to go through the long drawn out process of vetting out my next executive officer to take his place. After all, I may be a high ranking official and the supremely powerful Grand Mookatollah, but I can't run this place by myself.

So yes, luckily I had a great ally on my side of things. The grand architects of the Anti-Mookist movement have yet to corrupt her. However....

They may be infecting the citizens within the walls of the Mookified Compound. My wife wears what I see as an official Commie Cap. The appearance is way too close to the type of hat seen worn by many a commie throughout history. Not the big fur Ruskie hats on Soviet guards, but those short billed caps that you'd see someone like Fidel Castro wear.
Like this, only hers is in black

After long reflection to see how my strong willed and independent wife could be wooed by the commies (as a small portion of the Anti-Mookists), I have come down to a couple conclusions. She did receive some college education, and we all know infiltrated Academia is with communist idolaters and their evil ways.

And then there are my hippy parents. As liberals, and grandparents to my kids, I'm sure they have learned to communicate with subliminal messaging techniques in an effort to bring down this great regime of freedom and opportunity which I have produced for all to enjoy. Also, my parents give the kids toys and snacks to corrupt them with their socialist bent while the boys are still too young to know better. Little do they realize that eventually the toys and snacks will end up being regular streams of socks and underwear for gifts. And then there is the fact that when given a choice between me and their mother, the little fruits of my loins choose her...EVERY time! It seems the game is afoot! I may have to move the family somewhere more isolated amongst the hatemongers of our country and away from the evil influences of the far reaching arms of communism. Where I can hide in the mountains where I have built a bunker for official use of the Mookified government, should widespread civil war break out amongst the populace.

Let's see, what else is there to report. Ah yes, the Denny's campaign. Pictures of me at a Denny's have shown themselves onto the Denny's Facebook page, prior to my finding the page and without my knowledge. So it appears I have some, even if accidental, allies in my campaign to be the official face of Denny's.

What I need to do, and I may need help, is writing up the proposal and getting proper face time and respect with Corporate Denny's. I need to convince them that I need a basic salary to cover my time away from home, a official Denny's Guy car to motor around the country touring Denny's restaurants, trying out different dishes every meal and in different regions of the country, giving them Internet advertising through a blog or some other forum. And I'll also need them to cover hotel/motel fare for when I'm a ways away from the Mookified Compound that I call home. I don't think a year of traveling about on their dime, eating their food and publicly shouting their praises (for a fair amount of money)is too much to ask of the great capitalist story that is Denny's Restaurants. So yes, spread the message, tell Denny's that they need to utilize me for such a campaign, and at a cost much lower than most television advertising campaigns go for!

Technology As A Tool Of Anti-Mookism

2010-05-11T06:52:00.000-07:00

WARNING!!!! This post may contain some inappropriate language and attitude within the contents. Those who are prone to picking up a stick and beating random people after reading displeasing material should just stop reading now. For the rest of you, well, you've been warned.

As I have mentioned before, I am the target of many conspiracies to hold me back. In fact some of you who read this refuse to add yourselves onto my blog as official followers or to comment openly (there is an option to post comments anonymously without logging in, you know). I can only assume it is because you have heard or know of these conspiracies, and you don't wish to be targeted or have members of your families circumcised merely for your associations with or to me.

I'm pretty sure the UN is part of the grand anti-mookist conspiracy

Well, the grand conspirators have struck at the Mook again!!! Last year there was a fake virus warning that was in fact itself a virus. Clicking on anything pretty much guaranteed your computer was going to be infected and you could do nothing. This happened to my mother's computer. My brother-in-law used his laptop to figure out how to take care of the problem. Then mere weeks later, our computer became infected while I was online. I got into contact with my brother in law, and after 2 to 3 hours we got things fixed. All was good, that is, until yesterday. The bastards struck again while I was online researching information and reading news articles. In fact I didn't even get a warning. Some random pop-up appeared and I merely tried to close it. The computer went into some sort of delay, then a balloon showed up from my task bar saying a virus has been detected, blah blah blah, and then the antivirus window popped up and things went crazy. Just the latest example of a wave of anti-Mookism that has infected the power structure of our world.

Naturally I called down to my sister's place. They don't admit to it, but they are Mookist sympathizers, so I knew I could get help from there. Unfortunately for me, my sister informed me that her husband was at work, so it was going to have to wait. I called my wife and let her know of the situation, and she contacted them last night to get the computer straightened out.

I was informed by my wife after getting up for work that the computer was in fact all fixed up now. I was also told in a frustrated and unjokingly joking manner that if it happens again while I'm online I'll be banned from the computer save when adult supervision is available to monitor my activities. Even with the adult supervision, my activities would be severely curbed. Probably limited to checking but not actually reading my email and getting to play minesweeper or solitaire, games that aren't connected to the Internet.

Of course this is what the grand conspirators are counting on. By curtailing my access to information and being able to disseminate that information along with my own high brow intellect out to the world, they can keep Mookism confined to my household instead of to the masses who deserve to hear sane messages (save these crazy blogs of mine anyways) and have better options for leadership in this world (like mine...remember to write me in for President in 2016!).

For there sake, these anti-Mookist conspirators had better hope I never find them. As a matter of fact let's just go ahead and include anyone who plugs nasty viruses into the cyber world to mess up people's computers and lives. If I do find these people, I have great plans for them.

While I am normally mild mannered, this kind of crap really pisses me off to a degree which none of you can possibly fathom. (Hell, I get overwhelmingly irritated about open cabinets or refrigerator foods being left out. much more so than I should be over something so dumb) Most of you know I'm pretty ardently "anti-electric technology". I hate phones, cell phones, texting, voicemail, ipads, etc, etc. But I do like my computer and what limited things I am able to do with it. I can write my blogs, check and answer my emails, read other blogs, research stuff, write my books, play games and all that. These are the kinds of things I do to entertain myself during the day while being at home alone. I am a man of routine. Ask my wife, interrupting my routine is NOT a good thing. And these conspirators/virus hacking engineers, whatever you call them REALLY ruined my routine.

I just hope someday I run into one of these guys who does this stuff to amuse themselves. I hope he is drunk and just looking for someone to socialize with and blabbers about doing this stuff. And I will be his best friend for the moment. I'll be more than happy to give his drunken ass a ride "home". But when he wakes up, he will find himself tied down to a table. And there will be me, the mad scientist, armed with multiple syringes of adrenaline, a funnel, and a nice vat of corrosive acid.

RE-WARNING: THIS NEXT PART IS CRIMINALLY INSANE...LAST CHANCE TO TURN AWAY!!!

I will pour the acid all over the evil bastard's daddy parts, starting right down the guy's pee hole, with the funnel, and let it burn in real good, dissolving all the important stuff. I will be injecting the guy with adrenaline to keep him from passing out from the shock of it all. And then I will make sure he lives, so that he will remember it, and he will be made to know exactly why such a fate befell him. If it's a girl that does this hideous crap that messes with people's computers and/or steals their identity ruining their lives and all that, she'll get the same treatment.

Now, full disclosure here, this is all some evil fantasy in my mind. Its the kind of stuff I think these morons deserve, but is in no way the premonition of some criminally insane plot by me. It is however something I obviously wouldn't do in real life, but I'm free to imagine it. And also a legal disclaimer, I do not condone this actual activity in any way shape or form, and furthermore I refuse to be held accountable in the event some complete moron actually goes and does this. We've seen the acid-based disfigurement of people in movies before, so it's not like this is some original idea of mine. You're free to think whatever you want, just don't act upon it.