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!
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!
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...
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!!!
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.
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!
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!
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
The object of this exercise is to creat a short story from a multitude of authors in a semi-fractured style. Write as much or as little as you like to take the original storyline and add your own take on the next events. Copy and Paste the previous chapter(s) and then add your own. Label your chapter number and your name/moniker at the top and then tag 2 people to pass it on to, for them to continue the story and see how it can develop through those different paths. Do NOT tag it back to any previous author of your story's chapters.
Chapter 1- by Mookie
It is summertime in the middle of the day. Moms and dads are at work, so my friend Jay and I, having nothing better to do, go down into the ravine behind my house. We have decided that today we will build a small fort and a campsite we can call our own. This small stretch of creeks running through the woods in the dead center of our town forms our own wilderness frontier.
We set to the task of grabbing fallen branches and sticks to create the walls of our fort at the base of a hill. While Jay begins construction on these walls, I move to my own litle task of creating a dam in the creek that runs through this section of the woods. An older creekbed that is usually dry, except for when the rain comes, has a variety of large rocks and broken concrete. These will be the materials for damming the creek up and creating a small ponding next to our campsite. Back and forth I lug rock after rock and concrete chunks as well. Once I feel I have a sufficient amount of rocks and concrete, I begin to set them into the small and shallow running stream. Soon the water level begins to rise and expand outward away from the bank, as I choke off the streams natural flow. As with any 10 year old, seeing the fruits of my labors, even in the early stages, makes me feel like a god in my own small world. By late afternoon we expect to have a sheltered fort, a bridge over the creek, a pooling of water to soak our feet in, or to use to put out the campfires we set from time to time when our parents don't realize we've stolen a box of matches or a lighter. We even have a designated circle of rocks for our campfire along with some wood, twigs and dead leaves to fuel the fire.
While pushing through some high brush in search for more wood, we spook a doe. She runs off, along the creek, and with a graceful leap she jups down into a culvert pit, ad into the dark tunnel that goes underneath a neighboring road that runs along the top of the east end of the ravine. We followed her to see just where she went. But when we got to the tunnel, we were spooked. Rumors of the tunnel being the spot for Satan Worshippers abound through our heads. This was the one place we had never dared to venture into. Graffiti was scrawled all around the tunnels entrance on the concrete exterior. Older kids had scared us with stories of animal sacrifices, complete with evidence of blood soaked walls that lay within the interior of the tunnel. We look down to one corner and see some scattered small bones, which only further reinforced the validity of these rumors. Then suddenly out of nowhere the doe came running back out the tunnel toward us, veering away as she moved past us, a wild look in her eyes. what had caused her to be so scared and willing to run back in our direction? We had neither heard nor seen anything that might represent danger. The adventure in our little stretch of frontier wilderness was only beginning...
I tag: Renaissance Guy and Scott Erb Although anyone who reads this is free to paste this chapter to their page along with THEIR next chapter.
Give Brett the Finger I thought, because of my hatred being openly expressed for Brett Favre, that this google ad on my page was really good, and inline with my thought process, then I read the rest of the little box:
Tell Brett what you think of him! Get a #4 Finger Decal or Cap today
Not quite what I was looking for. I might tell him how he's number 1 and all, but not with the same finger they are marketing.
You show them, you tell them, then you demonstrate it against them, and they still don't get it. Is football really THAT hard to understand? I mean, we're not talking about breaking down the intricacies of the game on an NFL level, or even getting them to understand how to control the game on a Playstation 3. First off, as much as I know about football, the NFL is a bit ahead of my curve, and a playstation has way too many buttons for me to figure it all out...I just pick a play or two and stick with a couple buttons. I consider that an achievement of a guy who grew up with the one button-one joystick Atari era.
What we're talking about is simple backyard, neighborhood football games. The same game I learned to play in the 80's (yeah, i'm that old). I'm playing kids that are high school age, who are smart enough to operate these new-fangled video game systems in their sleep (I'm not), are in shape (I'm not), and can run, throw and catch (which I can do the last 2 out of those 3). And yet, I can take just about anybody and beat an opposing team out in the yard.
I'm not that good of a player, I just know the game, but most of my teammattes aren't anywhere near that level of knowledge. So I play with a bunch of kids, even when I have the teenagers, who understand at best the concept of football. And here I am, a 30 year old guy staring very near the peak of that proverbial hill I'm supposed to be going over sometime in the future, who is out of shape (I mention it again because of how badly that condition is for me), and yet I embarass these kids everytime we play.
The other day, I used my 5 year old. On offense, it was easy...just give Buggy the ball. And while I did a little bit of blocking, Buggy made easy work out of a couple of kids twice his size and twice his age....especially after I pointed out to him NOT to run backwards, but towards the endzone. On defense, it got to the point where I showed the other side a play to run, and LET them run it, just so they would score...
I hate to embarrass the kids, but at the same time I'd like SOME competition. I don't know if I've just aged with the kids who actually take an interest in and try at football, or if its just a city kid thing where kids are interested in basketball and soccer, or "just hanging out" as their main ideas of how to occupy their time. And of course, I love how kids complain how bored they are, but any ideas of what to do are met with the constant phrase "Naw, I don't feel like doing that."
Now to be fair, I'm sure my parents could say the same thing about me back then, but it was usually when there was NOONE to play with. That and their idea of me cleaning my room "to ease my boredom' doesn't exactly fly as a legitimate suggestion.
Growing up in Sac City, we had two things going for us. A ravine, and Witte's yard. The ravine was for exploring, mapping out, and playing war or building a fort. But Witte's Yard...that was football central, and in our neighborhood it was the equivalent of Soldier Field. Hallowed grounds to be sure. Rain, Snow, Sunshine, Cold or Hot, we'd play, because it didn't matter to us when we had a group of us together. We just played..by the rules, and hard. It was all about winning, and effort and all that other crap a coach would say while giving you a pre-game or halftime speech.
It didn't matter if there was only 4 of us, or 20 of us...GAME ON!! And of course I was always out to try to show up my buddy Jay's older brother with my impressive skills, right up until he decided to show me he had moved on and learned even more to continue beating up on me on the gridiron. But now, he too is old like me, and I think that I can take him now...Josh is all broken. For reasons why see this video
