Saturday, 24 December 2016

merry xmas

it's xmas eve and the rip is helping me find a good xmas song.

we looked and we looked and we looked but couldn't find anything. then the rip set my mind straight with these two words:   waiting is

then i looked at the rip and set her mind straight with these 3 words:  thou art god

then the 4 legged god gave me  four magic  words:  xmas falls on sunday

merry feckin xmas

billy says xmas, like all things, will pass.

Monday, 19 December 2016


i truly hate snow.

we've had snow for the past week or so and it's caused me considerable hardships. nothing like the siege of leningrad but considerable discomfort nonetheless. vancouver snow always ends the same, a quick rise in temperature followed by rain that creates slush and makes walking very difficult, especially if it freezes at night.

my discomfort comes mainly from having to walk rip 3 times a day for her empty her bladder and evacuate her bowels. but nobody ever said caring for a magnificent beast was easy and as i'm so fond of quoting tony soprano, "this is the life we chose."  my little duck boots work perfectly in shallow snow but having to put on big rubber boots for deep snow causes me pain. the top of the boots  chafe against my shins causing me pain and i don't like pain.

and getting rip prepped for the walk is a challenge. i have to select the correct coat and convince her that it's in her best interests to dress for the weather and then hook her up to the leash.  this isn't too bad if i've remembered to bring all her gear into the house but occasionally i forget and leave it on the deck. when we return from the walk and she's dripping wet, i take her gear off outside and let the water drip off before bringing it in to dry.

that goddamned xmas is just around the corner and i've done zero, zip, squat.... to prepare for the blessed event. the lovely mrs myshkin is still on vacation and without her constant reminders, i seem to forget about it. but all things must pass and before i know it, xmas will be but a distant memory and it'll be on to bigger and better things.

i've toyed with idea of buying myself a nice toy. i've seen a few giant train sets for sale on craigslist but sonny lacks my enthusiasm so that adventure is looking doubtful. it would be a lot of work to transport all that equipment to the house and set it all up. if my dad offered to buy a giant toy when i was younger there would have been very little hesitation on my part to make it happen. of course i would probably got myself  half drunk and proceeded to make a big mess out of the situation. there are times when i wished my kids were as crazy as i was in my youth.

my dear departed father and i got drunk together more times than i can recall and got into some really good messes. if i get motivated in 2017, i'll relate the story of me, dad, fritz and the chinese food. a few people found the adventure to be funny but many people were totally disgusted. it's one of my fondest memories of good old dad.

xmas in canada:

billy hopes you sons of bitches have an outstanding xmas.

Saturday, 10 December 2016

the conundrum

although i'm living alone at the moment and have no special love of xmas, i thought it might be a good idea to put up the fake xmas tree. i had never assembled the current fake tree, my littlest angel always did this but she's flown the coop. it was me and rip against the tree.

after about 10 minutes, i gave up. assembling the base proved to be an exercise in frustration so i gave up before frustration led me to tossing the whole thing in the trash. here is the conundrum that i often face:

putting on some mellow music and sparking a bud would most certainly curb my frustration and make life easier for rip but there is a downside to this plan. my mental faculties decline with this plan and there's a good chance i'd just end up listening to the music and ignoring the mess on the floor. the classic conundrum, medicate and lose some brain power or tackle the son of a bitch head on and risk going berserk. i chose the 3rd option, put the son of a bitch back in the box.

i briefly toyed with the idea of calling my littlest angle and asking for guidance but that would be admitting the game is over, senility could not be denied.

well, i went back to the tree and got the son of a bitch assembled but it looked like shit so once again, i cut my losses and put it back in the box. this time though, i put the box back in the crawl space so the great xmas tree experiment ended in failure. fuck me, now i know how that idiot hillary feels. but i didn't blow 1.2 billion on the tree.

rowdy roddy always lifts my spirits.

billy loves you sons of bitches.

Friday, 2 December 2016


For years and years I resisted having a printer at home and just printed all my stuff at the cracker factory but when I left the cracker factory it was time to get a printer. To say it has been an exercise in frustration might be an understatement.

My Brother printer is big and bulky so I don't keep it on the desktop and have to go to the trouble of carrying it to the computer and hooking it up each time there's something to print. Today after doing all that the son of bitch wouldn't print, telling me that it was out of ink. I had just replaced the black ink cartridge so this was a surprise to me. I took the cartridge out and it seemed to have lots of ink so I put it back in and still got the message that there was no ink!  What the fuck, I decided to put in another new cartridge and still got the message that it was out of ink.

It turned out that the "yellow ink" cartridge was empty and the son of a bitch wouldn't print until the yellow ink was replaced. The goddamned thing wouldn't do anything without new yellow ink even though I just wanted to print a black and white document. I replaced the black cartridge for nothing, a waste of money!

After a few minutes of checking on-line I got lucky and  found the solution. I had to remove the yellow cartridge and put a piece of electrical tape over the clear window on the cartridge to fool the printer into thinking there was ink in the yellow cartridge. The good news is it worked, the bad news is I replaced a black cartridge for nothing. And to add insult to injury, my hands are covered in black ink!

All this happened because I got fucked over by a bank. I ended up telling the bank rep to go fuck himself and decided to open an account at a different bank.  This entailed me signing some documents so I had to print, sign, scan and email all the shit back to the new bank. An exercise in frustration! So at this point, I hate banks and Brother printers.

I'm not too crazy about dentists these days either but that's a story for a different day.

K.D. and Tony are the tonic to sooth my tortured soul.

Billy loves you sons of bitches.

Friday, 18 November 2016


one of my favorite star trek characters is the borg queen:

a few weeks ago i was watching children of dune and there was just something about lady jessica that caught my fancy. finally my curiosity led me wikipedia where i found out that lady jessica was the borg queen!
as you're probably tired of hearing, i'm in the midst of the annual deadwood marathon. there was something about maddie that caught my fancy so once again it was off to wikipedia and son of bitch, maddie is also the borg queen!
and the wonderful actress who plays the borg queen is ALICE KRIGE.

that's the beauty of watching deadwood so many times. each time i watch it, i fall in love with a different character and learn something new. i continue to watch it in small doses, about 20 minutes each night before going to bed. i'm always medicated and i always have the music dialed in perfectly. it's my reward for making through the day. a guy needs something to look forward to and for me, it's that 20 minutes of bliss before hitting the hay.

and speaking of the borg queen, the lovely mrs myshkin is away on one of her extended vacations. she's been gone for a few weeks and lucky me, she's due to return on xmas eve. so it's me and rip all alone in the house. the kids are gone, my dad is up in valhalla and my mother doesn't recognize me, i've never felt so alone. i'd really be lost without rip.

sonny boy williamson sums it all up. (have i ever mentioned how much i like sonny boy?)

billy loves you sons of bitches.

Friday, 11 November 2016

i am depressed.

i don't know if i'm really depressed, i'm just thinking of slim pickens in blazing saddles. have i ever mentioned how much i love slim pickens?

for just a moment, pretend that slim pickens is donald trump and cleavon little is obama:

that clip brings a smile to my face but i'm still depressed.

this morning i took my mother to a remembrance day event and got all choked up. my dad would have been 95 years old in a few days and he was a veteran of WW2. my mother was a war bride. i wore a pair of my dad's pants, his shirt and his shoes. as the ceremony progressed and i got more and more verklempt and tears were flowing down my face as they played the last post.

as i looked around at all of the veterans, all of whom were at least 90 years old, i couldn't help but think of that prick donald trump. that son of bitch evaded military service and yet has the gall to proclaim that he "loves war" and wants to "bomb the shit our of" muslims in the middle east. i just got really really angry with the donald.

in the past few days i've had a total roller coaster of emotions regarding trump's victory. on election night i was totally depressed but the next day it was back to business. at times i even smiled thinking of all the excitement and bullshit that's going to happen in the next few years. but then i see trump's smirking face on tv and i get back to reality and almost slip into depression.

but fuck donald. here is my absolute favorite anti-war song.

billy says he love you sons of bitches.

Friday, 4 November 2016

flu shot

It was that time of year again to get a flu shot. I've been getting flu shots each year for as long as I can remember. I've had the flu a few times in my life and I don't want to get it again. I'm talking the real flu, not some lousy cold that a lot of people call the flu. From what I've read, getting a flu shot is a crap shoot. They guess what strain will hit and that's what you get vaccinated for. Last year apparently they guessed wrong and the shots were only 50% effective. So it goes, like I always say, if it's free, I'll take it.

It was off to the pharmacy to get poked and maybe get a sore arm for a day or two. Before the pharmacist administers the vaccine, a form must be filled out that basically absolves the pharmacist and health ministry of any responsibility in the event that something goes wrong. ie, an allergic reaction. This year the form was different:


I shit you not, the form was in Chinese with English in small fonts under the absurd little Chinese stick figures. When I passed my form to the pharmacist, a stern eastern European lady, I couldn't resist complaining about the form and her response, "don't get me started" She then told me that 70% of the customers were Chinese and it was a nightmare trying to get them to fill out a form in English.

I liked her enough to offer my left upper arm for the shot. I have a sea turtle tattoo on my left arm and I'm usually reluctant to get a shot in that beautiful creature. They always give you the warning to sit down for 15 minutes after the shot just in case you get dizzy but there were two chances of me hanging around and slim had just left town. I immediately hopped on the bike and pedaled into the sunset. And yes, my arm hurt that evening.

The best thing about a flu shot is it gives me peace of mind when riding on public transit when some asshole starts coughing and sneezing.

The deadwood marathon goes well:

Billy still loves you sons of bitches.

Saturday, 22 October 2016

the awakening

     I guess everyone has a few moments in their life when the light goes on and they remember the moment. One of my most important moments happened when I was a teenager and it was one of those watershed moments that literally transformed my outlook on life.

The transformation happened while reading Crime and Punishment by Dostoevsky. I was child of the cold war and grew up being continually told how the evil Russians were subhumans and a major threat to my life and happiness. Being a normal young guy, I didn't give it much thought. If that was  what they wanted me to believe, so be it. I had sports to play and vandalism to commit, questioning authority wouldn't make me run faster or throw a stone further.

My parents always told me to read books and reading books made my life easier. Spend an hour a day reading and not get  hassled, seemed like a fair deal to me. When I started reading Crime and Punishment the thing that stuck out to me was that the evil Russians were just like us. They had commerce, private property and the sons of guns could even read and ponder life's great mysteries, just like us.

This was when I figured out that the authorities were full of shit. It was a propaganda war and we were being fed a bunch of bullshit about the Russians and if they were feeding us bullshit about the Russians, there was good chance that most of the other stuff we were taught was also bullshit. For some funny reason I fell in love with Dostoevsky and took it upon myself to read any books of his that could lay my hands upon. And just like Deadwood, I would read them several times. In the past year I've re-read Crime and Punishment, The Brothers Karamazov and The Idiot. I just plain old like Dostoevsky's style.

Then another watershed moment hit me a few years ago. While browsing dvd's at the public library I stumbled upon The Last Station. Aside from falling in love with Helen Miren, I also grew curious about Tolstoy. Like most people, I had read War and Peace and it was a long tough read. Somewhat of an endurance test where the goal was to finish the book rather than enjoy it so Tolstoy was relegated to the dormant part of my mind for about 40 years. I've read several of his books in last few years and I'm just finishing "Resurrection". It's a great book.

I'm finding that Tolstoy is basically a kinder and gentler version of Dostoevsky.  I still consider old Fyodor Dostoevsky to be my soul mate and Prince Leo Myshkin remains my hero. Both Tolstoy and Dostoevsky were highly critical of the Russian system and the  injustice suffered by the peasants. Being a dissident in 19th century Russia was a risky proposition. Poor old Fyodor was sent to prison in Siberia and sentenced to death but like myself, someone up there liked him and he was given a reprieve. So it goes.

Give it a try, you might just fall in love with Leo.

Billy still loves you sons of bitches.

Thursday, 13 October 2016


finally, life is good again in the pond.

one of my big beefs with windows 10 is they took away the classic games and put in some shiny new games. but the new games came with a price, unless you subscribed to their premium package of games, you couldn't play any of their so-called free games unless you watched a few commercials. have i ever mentioned that i hate windows 10?

the new shiny games are kinda cool but those fucking commercials were driving me crazy, not to mention the fact that microsoft was monitoring me every time i played a game and deciding what commercials to blast me with after monitoring everything else  i had been doing and reading all my hotmail messages. and that brings up another annoyance with windows 10, it reconfigured my hotmail account and i couldn't read my fucking mail!!!  the inbox would say 10 new messages but there was nothing there! if i went to my sent file and then back to the inbox, i might just get lucky and find my messages but it was hit and miss. after some monkeying around i discovered that outlook/hotmail had activated some "focus" tool that took it upon itself to hide my messages.

i had told my kids about these problems but they didn't share my sense of urgency. dear old dad not getting old classic microsoft games and his free email acting up didn't register on their urgency index. i had to fix these problems myself and fix them i did. i found and turned off the focus bullshit and then installed the old games from windows 7.  the fruit of my loins are in for a surprise next time they request funding from the rosewater foundation.

for some funny reason i have absolutely no problem with google looking over my shoulder and invading my privacy. google answers all my questions and provides me with excellent directions whenever i need to find an address.  and i'm now using google "sheets" rather than microsoft's excel. i have excel on the old computer but have to access microsoft's cloud to use it on the new toy. so far google sheets fit my needs very well. and i haven't used facebook for a nanosecond on the new toy.

in summation:

google     - good
microsoft - bad
facebook - bad

billy says he love you sons of bitches.

Wednesday, 5 October 2016


I made a truly outstanding pot of bean soup yesterday. Firstly, I had a surplus of carrots so I grated 4 good sized carrots whereas I usually use 2 carrots. Then I tossed in some beef soup flavoring rather than the french onion flavoring. The usual suspects such as barley, beans, garlic, onions and beef remained the same.

After the soup was finished I tossed in some spaghetti sauce that was left over and son of a bitch, I had some soup that the boys in Valhalla would be proud of. Now I have a shit load of soup in the fridge, probably enough to last for the next 3 days. I'll have soup for lunch and dinner each day with a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast. This is my health kick that I'll do about twice a month until spring arrives. There will be lots of farting in the bat cave.

Yesterday panic set in, I lost a debit card. I have about 5 of the stupid things and the only one that I ever use was nowhere to be found,  it's for my mother's account. After an hour of frustration, I decided to hop on the bike and ride up to the credit union. I'm not crazy about credit unions but I leave some money in there because my father liked the place. Typically, there was a large line-up for service. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate line-ups?

An elderly asian man was standing behind me and he was very close which was annoying. Then the asshole belched right in my ear. I came very close to throttling the rude little nine iron but with age comes wisdom, so I just gave him the dirtiest stare I could muster and stood in that fucking line-up with the old blood pressure skyrocketing.

But the baseball playoffs have started and the grocery store has some fresh apples that are beyond compare. It's just too bad that I have to use a paring knife to eat them since I have zero confidence in my front teeth.

And the Deadwood marathon has begun!

Billy says he loves you sons of bitches.

Friday, 30 September 2016

goodbye summer

September be gone. Well not at this very moment but in a few hours it will be goodbye September and hello October. We're having excellent weather today but tomorrow we're expecting rain. So what does a guy do when it's time for the oncoming deluge?

Clean the goddamned gutters!

and of course only one creature was willing to help me;

well, she didn't really help me. as a matter of fact she drove me crazy while i was on the roof. i'm not sure if any neighbors heard me telling her to shut the fuck up a few times as she started barking at every goddamned fly that landed in the yard. but the dirty job is done for the year. every month or so i'll clean out the corners.

on a more pleasant note, the insurance company gave me $1500 to go away. they told me that the bicycle accident was my fault and that i wasn't eligible for any compensation.  i hadn't even bothered calling them until the ambulance bill arrived in the mail and it said to call the insurance company if it involved a car accident. i told the insurance adjuster that in my opinion the accident wasn't 100% my fault and we left it at that with her agreeing to pay the ambulance bill. then lo and behold i received a call from the insurance company offering me $1000 to go away. i said make it $1500 and we have a deal.

it's actually peanuts considering that i really was injured and countless people get thousands upon thousands for claiming bullshit whiplash from accidents with virtually no damage. my knee still hurts, my neck still aches and i'm afraid to bite into a crisp apple but so it goes.

as my old buddy unk (malachi constant) was so fond of saying;

i was a victim of a series of accidents, as are we all.

billy says he loves you sons of bitches.

Friday, 23 September 2016

blue screen of death

I got fed up with the blue screen of death and called ASUS product support. The guy on the other end of the line treated me like a child and had me to a reset, everything was wiped out and it was time for a fresh start. Since I did the reset, I've had one blue screen of death so I checked my drivers and one was no good.

I truly hate windows 10. Microsoft can stick their fucking cloud up the arse as far as I'm concerned. But what's the alternative? A friend spilled a tiny amount of water on her macbook and the thing is basically worthless. She paid about $2000 for it about 3 years ago and the apple store told her that it would cost about $1600 to fix it.  My ASUS/windows 10 toy might be a pain in the ass but it's only a $400 pain in the ass, so things could be worse.

On a positive note, the pair of duck shoes I bought were an outstanding investment.

It is so nice being able to walk rip in the wet weather and not have to worry about getting my feet wet. I had always bought so-called waterproof leather boots in the past and those sieves usually ended up giving me cold wet feet.

In summation:

Windows 10 bad.
Duck shoes good.

Billy's brain had an unexpected shut down and his tongue paid the price. He mumbled something about loving you sons of bitches.

Wednesday, 14 September 2016

asus and helmets

when i bought the new helmet it became apparent that flat black is the popular color.  the helmet i purchased was on sale for less than half price because it's white. the flat black helmets weren't marked down at all but the glossy black helmets were marked down about 25%. checking online i found that flat black helmets are less visible than white helmets, in other words, white helmets are safer. style trumps safety when it comes to motorcycle helmets. so it goes.

the white helmet is a bit dorky looking compared to the flat black but as an old man on a scooter, dorky fits right in.  after a applying a little art, the white helmet is now uber cool:

if that isn't cool, what is?
i now love my dorky white helmet.

the new asus computer kept getting the blue screen of death so i called product support. the young man on the other end of the phone had me do a reset. i'm told this will take a few hours and when it's complete, everything i put on it will be gone forever!  so it goes.

the procedure was amazingly simple. turn the son of a bitch off and as soon as you turn it back on just start hammering the shit out of the F9 key until it goes black. then you get about 10 warnings saying, do you really want to do this?  do you really really want to do this? do you really really really want to do this?...................

after you convince the son of a bitch that you really want to do this it starts wiping every thing out. so it goes. it's a good thing that i kept the old hp up and running.

billy says asus computers are junk and i'm not going to argue with him.

oh yeah, one more thing. i've decided that donald trump is total fucking asshole. but what the fuck, i've been wrong before so i won't get bent out shape if any of you vote him.

why? because i love you sons of bitches.

Tuesday, 6 September 2016

change in the air

Man oh man, the weather can certainly change quickly.  One week ago the weather was almost uncomfortably warm and now it's goddamned cold! Those carefree days of hopping on the scooter with just a t shirt and flip flops are over. It'll be a goretex jacket and leather sneakers for the rest of the season. bummer.

The onset of fall means one thing rosewaterville, it 's time to begin thinking about deadwood! I just finished watching Planet Earth with David Attenborough. It's a great series but it can also be quite depressing. Most segments focus on some darling little animals where you get emotionally involved with their struggles to survive a hostile environment and the never ending quest for food. Then almost every segment ends with some rat bastard predator killing the poor creature that you'd just formed an emotional attachment with. So it goes.

I enjoyed the episodes which focused on the planet rather than the creatures. Caves and the deep ocean were probably my favorites. It takes a special type of adventurer to explore some of those caves. The only thing that bothers me about these fantastic BBC natural wonder series is the shared footage. I realize how difficult and expensive it is to film most segments but I wish they'd briefly display a little caption below segments that have been used in different series.

Why? Because it might stop me from thinking that my senility is running amok! I kept asking myself, have I seen this before? Fuck me, it seems familiar but I don't remember watching this episode.

I had something clever and insightful to say but son of a bitch, I can't remember what it was.

Was Chet a cool dude or was Chet a cool dude?
Chet was a cool dude.

Billy's feeling kind of blue, but I guess he was born to be blue.

Sunday, 28 August 2016

scoot, scoot, scootin....

The scooter continues to be the apple of my eye. (but Rip is still my true love)

I've decided to stick with the pcx150 and not press my luck with something bigger and faster. But like I said before, it only takes one moment of weakness to do something foolish. Never underestimate the power of a slick commissioned salesman.

The new helmet arrived and it's a big thick clunky thing. When I first put it on I thought; son of bitch, this thing's too tight. But reading the little two bit manual told me that it was supposed to be tight and would mold to the shape of my head. The manual was correct, it's slowly adapting to my square head and if it was any larger the wind would push it up while riding.

A few days ago it was so hot and sunny that I used an umbrella while walking Rip in the afternoon but today it's turned cold and it started to drizzle as I was scooting back from the bakery. The summer fun will soon be over. So it goes.

The new computer is working well but it seems getting windows 10 just swapped one problem for a different problem. Windows 7 often disconnected from the net and I had to run the wizard to resolve the problem, "restore local gateway connection".  Now windows 10 is giving me the "blue screen of death" with the message "THREAD STUCK IN DEVICE DRIVER".  Sonny will be dropping by to check it out and re-install some drivers.

One good thing about windows 10 is the ESPN baseball box scores always come up right away. For some funny reason I always had to refresh the baseball home page before the box scores would come up when using windows 7. I love the box scores. If the games on TV are crappy, I'll spend more time monitoring box scores than watching tv.

One of the best baseball songs:

Billy says he loves you sons of bitches.

Wednesday, 17 August 2016

is that all there is?

the new computer is up and running.  it was exciting for the first 10 minutes but overall it's not really a big improvement.  it's faster but i'm not crazy about windows 10.  it'll take me a little while to get over the invasion of my privacy by microsoft.

it seems like yesterday that most people i knew were running bootleg copies of windows but now microsoft gives the operating system away. they ended the free windows 10 promotion but i think it's all a marketing gimmick. they signed up all the innovators and the free sign ups dwindled so they ended the promotion making people think they missed out on a good deal. i'm pretty sure microsoft will wait a few months and begin a new free promotion.

tomorrow i take the scooter in for the warranty service. about all they do is change the oil and then charge over a hundred bucks. i'm planning on taking a few big bikes for a test drive while i wait. i'll be taking a honda phantom/shadow out for spin and if the mood strikes i might take a crotch rocket out for a ride. the scooter is much more practical for zipping around the city but having all that power between your legs can be magical. maybe i'll find the fountain of youth.

and hey , let's be careful out there.

Sunday, 7 August 2016

gas prices

most people love to complain about the price of gas, myself included.  i don't mind paying the oil and gas companies for the fuel, but i do get a little tired of all the taxes.  what really galls me is the fucking carbon tax on natural gas. with the current low prices on natural gas, the carbon tax was greater than the cost of the commodity. to add icing to the shit cake, the carbon tax just goes into general revenue for our provincial government. it's just another tax.

and here in the great white north we pay a goods and services tax to the federal government on almost everything we purchase. and if that isn't enough, we pay a goods and services tax on the fucking carbon tax.


this is all leading to the best interactive chart on global gasoline prices that i've ever come across:

Gasoline Prices Around the World: The Real Cost of Filling Up

go the map of the world and click on the country of your choice. better than just giving you the price of gasoline, it will give you the price in the global currency of your choice  in either imperial or metric volume. it then will give you the percent of a days wages that it costs to buy a gallon of gasoline and the percent of your annual salary that you will spend based on average consumption.

of course average consumption can be misleading just as the consumer price index is an incredibly poor index of inflation for poor people. but it's fun to compare.

when i gassed up the scooter today, i calculated the mileage to be 138 miles per imperial gallon. i've only been purchasing premium gasoline for the scooter thinking that the premium gasoline didn't contain ethanol. but lo and behold, i recently discovered that all premium fuel is not created equal. and the sons of bitches don't really tell you. at least chevron clearly stated on the pump that the ultra premium is ethanol free. esso (exxon) just says that their gasoline may contain up to 10% ethanol.

that goddamned ethanol caused me nothing but headaches with my dad's gasoline lawnmower. it's fine if the gas is always fresh but leave that shit sitting in tank over the winter and you're up shit creek.

and hey, let's be careful out there.

Sunday, 31 July 2016

free books

for as long as i can remember my motto has always been:


there are several sites to download free books but most of them are a pain in the arse. they require registration and somehow or other they usually end up wanting some money so here's the best site in the known universe for free books:


years ago i was attending some sort of bullshit seminar for the cracker factory and the instructor started off by asking us which historical figure had the greatest impact on the human race. the usual names were put forth; einstein, newton etc...

the instructor told us that the most important figure in history was gutenberg because he made it possible to pass along information to the masses of humanity which in turn led to all sorts of inventions and progress for humanity. for the life of me i can't remember what the seminar was about but i'll never forget gutenberg. i also remember my boss saying that shakespeare was the most influential person in history. what kind of fucking idiot would think shakespeare was the most influential person in history??

i don't think there are any recent best sellers on the gutenberg free list but most of the old classics are there. and there are also tons of obscure old titles with no copyright. yesterday i downloaded "slave planet" by janifer. i love old sci fi books.

the new computer arrived and i have absolutely no interest in opening the box. it would just be an exercise in frustration and the probability  of me getting pissed off and smashing it is astronomically higher than the probability of me displaying a working knowledge of modern electronics.

maybe the king of texas can tell me the best way to remove tree sap from a car.  it seems that i parked a certain persons car under a tree and some shit fell on it.

what happens when you speak the truth about crooked hillary clinton?

 billy loves you sons of bitches.

Saturday, 23 July 2016

new toy

i've been toying with the idea of getting a new desktop computer and it was time to shit or get off the pot. i took a shit and in about a week the new computer will arrive.  sonny is on his honeymoon and he's in charge of setting up my toys so it wasn't urgent to get it delivered today. i could have driven across the city and picked it up but delivery was free so why deal with traffic?

that's right, sonny is now married. it was a big affair at the university that had been in the planning for over a year. i hadn't got my hair cut or trimmed the beard in about 6 months,  throw in a stitched-up mouth with loose teeth and i'm pretty sure  people were concerned that i'd fuck it up. i got a haircut, trimmed the beard and bought a new suit about a week before the ceremony.

you can help an old lady cross the street everyday, but fuck up the wedding speech and guess what you'll be remembered for?

i'm happy that it's over and the new computer is the reward for behaving myself. i've decided to keep the old computer operational and use it for movies, music and pictures. hopefully the new toy will stay lightning fast without all the entertainment bullshit clogging up the works.

this time i bought an ASUS.  my current desktop is a cheap HP that has worked really well so i was looking for a new HP but couldn't find the right features at the right price. i almost bought a  lenovo a few times but the goddamned things kept selling out while i was sitting on the pot. the thought of buying a laptop or tablet didn't even cross my mind. i like big keyboard and a big screen that are always going to be in the same place.

billy loves you sons of bitches.

Thursday, 14 July 2016


I sliced one of my fingers so typing this hurts, yes I use all 10 fingers and by taking one finger out of action, the whole thing goes to shit.

I recently read House Atreides, House Harkonnen, House Corrino and the original Dune. Before that it was some Dickens, Dostoevski and a slew of quirky sci fi books.  I noticed that Lenny Dykstra had a book out and he tossed a few insults to Mickey Rourke so I had to get that book. After reading all those books that required a little thought, it was so nice to read something simple and entertaining.

If you like baseball, this is the book for you. It gives good insight into steroids, pain killers and lots of other drugs. It also gives excellent details on some famous games. All in all, it is a very fun book to read.

I had forgot how enjoyable it was reading biographies from athletes. Good old only Lenny gives a great description of a major league ball player's life and times. I recognized almost all the players he mentioned so it was great reading about their quirks and getting behind the scenes details on the inner workings of baseball. Just a fun book to read. I'll be reading more biographies from athletes.

God bless the library. I picked up a few rolling stones dvds and was expecting them to in poor shape, imagining that they had being played whilst people drank and partied but surprise, surprise, they were in pristine condition. Either they were being checked out by anally retentive boomers, or maybe everyone is streaming this stuff on the net. I wasn't particularly impressed with  scorsese's "shine the light." It was "Sweet Summer Fun" from Hyde Park that tickled my fancy. It's from 2013 so the Stones were old men but they certainly seemed to find the fountain of youth. (or some very professional pharmacology)

billy says he loves you sons of bitches.

Tuesday, 5 July 2016


This time I really mean it. OUCH!

About 10 days ago I was unlucky enough to crash head first into a BMW while riding the bike to the produce market  to pick up potatoes for the Rip.  I spent what seemed like an eternity under the bike waiting for medical assistance. Soon I was surrounded by firemen, paramedics and police officers. The paramedics immobilized my neck and strapped me to a board, they then loaded me into the ambulance for 4 hours of pure bliss in the emergency ward. They don't remove you from the board until all the c.t. scans and x-rays are completed.

My upper lip was ripped to shit thanks to my teeth meeting the fender of the BMW. Try being strapped to a board on your back for 3 hours with blood dripping down your throat. It was not my finest hour. There was nothing broken in the neck or back so they unstrapped me and I then waited an hour for a seamstress to come and stitch my mouth. My back and neck have been very stiff and sore but things appear to be healing nicely. The big problem is my front teeth are slightly loose. Those fucking things better not fall out. I also suffered a concussion and that might be the wild card in this adventure.

As I was lying on the couch recovering, it became apparent than I needed a new remote control radio. I have a beauty in the bedroom but the radio in the bat cave has seen better days. Of course the mighty Pioneer receiver has a tuner but I don't like monkeying around with the device that gives me 20 minutes of bliss each evening so it was off to the store. I couldn't find anything that interested me so I decided to hook up an old yamaha receiver.

I found the receiver and was very proud of myself for successfully setting it up. The only problem was I couldn't get any FM reception without one of those little indoor antennas. I have a huge box full of cables  and electronic knick knacks that might or might not have had what I was looking for. Unbelievably, I found the antenna after a few minutes and all was right with the world. It sounded so good that I decided to connect an old Harmon Kardon dvd player in order to play cds. The old dvd player worked perfectly but I lost the remote for it long ago. No problem, it was time to program a Harmony remote. And it fucking worked! I could have programmed the yamaha receiver into the harmony but it gets too goddamned confusing switching that thing back and forth between gadgets. (and i have 3 harmony remotes so the potential for confusion is immense!)

Sonny is out of town so I had to do all this myself.

Billy says he loves you sons of bitches.

Sunday, 19 June 2016


Last post I bitched and moaned about my dental visit. It hurt and I don't want it to hurt next time so I'm taking a page from Al Swearengen when he complained that Dolly had changed her technique whilst giving him a blow job, I've decided to change my brushing technique. No more babying those fucking gums, I'm gonna brush the living shit out of them to try and prevent tartar build up below the gum line. No more mister nice guy.

And since I'm changing the brushing technique, it's time to change my exercise routine. I'm getting older so it's time to make some adjustments. When a guy is young, he wants muscles so it's weights and strength training that most young men focus on. (of course there are always fat lazy people who only focus on over indulgence but that's a topic for another day.)  Then whether it was the natural progression or just the current fad I focused on cardio for endurance and cholesterol etc. This worked pretty good until the age of 55.

Now it's stiffness that's the problem. If some nogoodnik broke into the house after I'd been in bed for a few hours I'd be in trouble. When I get up in the morning, I can barely walk across the room without doing a little stretching in bed first. Now it's got to the point where a "little stretching" isn't enough. Yes, there is a downside to getting old. When I was a young man, I thought retirement would be like living on the good rock candy mountain. Over indulgence and partying ad infinitum.

News flash!  It's all a big fucking myth to keep us on the treadmill for 40 years. Work your fingers to the bone and what do you get? Bony fingers and a stiff old body. So it goes.

So it's time to start stretching. The problem with stretching is it's difficult to keep good statistics on progress and performance. With weights you can keep track of repetitions and poundage and with cardio you can keep track of time and distance. But stretching is more fluid, you go with the flow. I need statistics for motivation! And finding stretching exercises is going to be very important. It's going to be a matter of trying lots of different stuff until stumble upon the right stuff.

I'd rather be Mick than Meatloaf.
Billy says he loves you sons of bitches.

Sunday, 12 June 2016


Woe was me on Friday.  It was time to summon all my courage and head to the dentist for the semi annual festival of pain. I've been feeling extra stiff and sore the few weeks so this simply seemed like another test from the lord. I'm getting sick of that nogoodnik continually testing me.

Friday was the first time that I actually got a little cranky with the hygienist doing the scraping and scaling. It really hurt so I also voiced my displeasure with the dentist after the scaling when it was time for the 30 second cursory inspection of my chompers. The scaling took over an hour but the inspection was over in a flash, lucky me. I was probably cranky because for the first time in memory it was costing me a few bucks, the gold plated dental insurance disappeared when I retired.

On the plus side, I didn't have any cavities. Perhaps rinsing with the child's fluoridated mouthwash is paying off. I'm also not rinsing my mouth immediately after brushing so the fluoride in the toothpaste has a chance to work its magic.

I had been anxiously awaiting the delivery of book that I ordered from AbeBooks over a month ago. The book arrived on the last day of the estimated delivery range so I was ready to write and complain  but  perhaps things would have worked out better if it had been a few days late:

I wasn't home when the book arrived and my chief of security thought there might be a explosives in the package so she decided a closer inspection was in order.

Some people value books autographed by the author, maybe I'll dip my security chief's paw in ink and get her signature on the book. The consequences of her actions would have been much harsher had she decided to inspect the old copy of Dune that arrived a few weeks earlier.

Billy says he loves you sons of bitches.

Saturday, 4 June 2016

Summer's here.

It seems like just yesterday that I was enjoying the rain and basking in the beauty of the nice green grass but it looks like summer has returned with a vengeance. I took the rip for a walk this afternoon and was kicking myself for not bringing an umbrella. Soon I'll be walking around with the umbrella up just like the old Asian ladies. That goddamned sun can wreak havoc with my old skin.

I almost bought 10 more character jugs this week. In fact, I did buy 10 character jugs but the deal fell apart when the asshole selling them decided to toss in a $40 shipping charge even though I was picking them up. I was suffering from a little buyer's remorse after agreeing to buy them because I'm running out of places to display them and my future daughter-in-law has made it clear that she doesn't want any of this shit when I croak. So it was pretty easy telling the guy to go fuck himself when he tacked on the extra charge. Fools like me that are willing to buy all his jugs don't grow on trees.

The 3 boxes of stuff I bought a few weeks ago still haven't been sorted and assimilated. I left  them all sitting on the dining room table hoping some would be claimed. So far nothing has been claimed and I've been told to clear off the table. I accidentally found a use for one of the pieces.

It's a Limoges pitcher and I now happen to own a shitload of limoges junk. I think it makes a cool vase but the ladies of house don't share my enthusiasm. But I'm still in love with the moorcroft lamp so who gives a shit about the other crap.

Billy says he loves you sons of bitches.

Tuesday, 24 May 2016

more stuff

The mighty honda scooter is so excellent that it's making me hop on and go buy stuff that I really don't need and will undoubtedly end up in the "it seemed like a good idea at the time" pile of stuff taking up premium space.

I had the mighty scooter on the highway and took it up to 90 km/h. It got up to speed no problem and there was plenty of throttle left but it didn't feel very safe. The scooter is too light and a few times I felt like it was close to becoming airborne. I filled up the tank and calculated the fuel consumption to be 136 miles per imperial gallon. Not too shabby.

Last week I went to look at a Moorcroft lamp and somehow or other found myself driving home with the lamp and 8 additional pieces of Moorcroft along with 2 boxes of other stuff. You wouldn't believe how happy the lovely mrs myshkin was to see me carrying 3 boxes of stuff into the house.  Luckily she has no idea how much a Moorcroft lamp sells for these days.

Buying shit can be habit forming and then toss in the adventure of riding a scooter and it's impossible to resist temptation. This morning I hopped on the scooter and went to pick up 2 more character jugs. I wanted Falstaff to keep my dad company on the mantle and as luck would have it, the guy had a beautiful Don Quixote jug. I now have 4 Quixotes,  Two large character jugs easily fit into the storage area under the seat of the scooter. I was worried about breaking them but bubble wrap and foam came to the rescue.

When I finally got around to unpacking the boxes of stuff from the previous adventure, I fell in love with this little orphan:

It's an old Nippon hand painted porcelain plate, probably from the 1950's. I don't think it has much value but the quality of the metal handle caught my fancy. Excellent craftsmanship.

Billy says he loves you sons of bitches.

Monday, 16 May 2016


The traditions and customs of our various societies are certainly interesting and diverse. There are times when you have to ask yourself, how in the wide, wide world of sports did these geniuses come up with something so brilliant. But one person's brilliant idea may be another person's idea of lunacy.

For instance, take a look at his photo and ask yourself, how did these rocket scientists come up with this wonderful practice?

Once upon a time, did a man happen to discover that his wife had done something naughty and as a punishment ordered her to hold a flaming bowl of shit in one hand until she learned her lesson?

Then did she repeat the same blunder so he decided that she should hold a flaming bowl of shit in each hand?

But she was a slow learner and transgressed again so he decided that she should also balance a flaming bowl of shit on her head?

Then did the other men of the tribe decide that it was such a good learning exercise that all the women should take part in the lesson? As they say, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.

I don't know how it all started, but I'm pretty sure that the idea came from a man.

But something better than flaming bowls of shit arrived on my doorstep last week:

I now have an old copy of Dune to read after I finish House Atredies and House Harkonnen. I'm debating whether or now to read House Corrino before jumping into Dune.

Billy says he loves you sons of bitches. Billy is quite curious to find out if  ingesting spice and folding space have any connection with being unstuck in time.

Saturday, 7 May 2016

something wonderful happened this morning.

i was going to buy myself a toy for retirement but as they say, the best laid plans......

i pulled the trigger yesterday and here's the new toy:

 i had decided to get a bike months ago but just couldn't make up my mind what to buy, a little scooter or a cruiser. it's been 20 years since i had a motorcycle and was wondering how good my muscle memory would be.

when i went to the honda dealer i sort of fell in love with the honda phantom but luckily i came to my senses and bought something much smaller. a phantom would be cool if i lived in the country and could do some cruising but for zipping around the city, the pcx 150 makes life easier. it was a bit of an adventure for the first few kilometers but i'll soon have the hang of it.

it zips around the city with an automatic transmission and has plenty of storage under the seat.

if this isn't wonderful, what is?

billy says he loves you sons of bitches and i should have got something bigger.

Friday, 29 April 2016


Last night I finished watching 2001, A Space Odyssey.  It was a 5 night affair and on a scale of 1 to 10, I'd give it a 7 on bliss scale. Parts of it were very good but at the risk of sounding shallow, the special effects and sound track were definitely dated. I found myself wondering how good it would be using current technology.

Watching the movie made me think of the sixties and seventies when our teachers and society in general were telling us how glorious the future would be. I remember career counseling in high school where the teachers told us the best jobs in the future would be recreation directors because everyone would  have lots of money and huge amounts of free time as the work week would decrease to about 20 hours. Yes, we had stars in our eyes and thought the world was our oyster.

But how did it turn out? Not as wonderful as was predicted by our teachers. The environment is toxic and the economy is in the shitter. Starvation and poverty are prevalent in large areas of the planet and wars are erupting on a regular basis. But for a very small portion of the population, the predictions came true. Untold riches and opulent lifestyles if you're fortunate enough to have a well connected family tree. Or you might get lucky and have a 100 mph fastball and be able to hit the ball out of the park.

Tonight the plan is to start watching 2010, the year we make contact. I can't remember the plot very well but I do remember that the special effects were a lot better than 2001 and that for maximum bliss, I should be well medicated for the last 20 minutes.

I made a big pot of bean soup yesterday so my mental health is in good shape. Yes, that's how glorious my future turned out, bean soup is the jewel in my crown.

Billy says he loves you sons of bitches.

Saturday, 23 April 2016

slipped my mind

Throughout the week I have countless ideas for topics to ramble on about but when it comes time to put pen to paper, either I can't remember my brilliant ideas or they've lost their brilliance after a day or two of them bouncing around in my subconscious.

After the annual Deadwood marathon, I decided to get my 15 minutes of bliss each night watching CARNIVALE. This was my 3rd time watching the series and like Deadwood, I discover something different each time I watch it. The first time I watched it, the freaks and interesting characters of the carnival caught my attention. Same thing with the second time watching it but I got a greater understanding of the characters and a few of the holes in the plot were filled in. This last time I focused on the religious aspect.

The religion caught my attention because when the evil priest, Brother Justin was speaking, I was lucky enough to have the sub woofer dialed in perfectly. A very subtle rumbling wafted across the room that was incredibly spooky and spooky is good. My only criticism of Carnivale is that Brother Justin becomes too overtly evil.

For evil to really resonate, there should be a few things left to the imagination.  Nothing wreaks more havoc with us humans than our imaginations. If we're not imagining ourselves to be incredibly smart and important, we're imagining ourselves to be persecuted and under appreciated. And we have the ability to make mountains out of mole hills when it comes to our problems. All this is acceptable for young people but jesus fucking christ, us old geezers should know better. You wouldn't believe how depressed I get when my bicycle has a flat tire. It's like the world is coming to an end.

After Carnivale, I watched Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back and it was very therapeutic. Not as good as the Big Lebowksi for lifting my spirits, but everything pales in comparison to the Big Lebowski. Now it's time to find a new series for the 15 minutes of nightly bliss before hitting the sack. I'm beginning to panic because I only have about 10 hours to come up with something good or I'm facing the prospect of an evening without bliss.

A man needs his bliss.

Billy says he loves you sons of bitches.

Monday, 18 April 2016


I've been on the lookout for a new tree since February and finally pulled the trigger. I told the lady that I was looking for an alaskan weeping cedar but they didn't have any. I had found one at a different nursery but the son of a bitch was huge and would have been difficult to transport and transplant so I gave it a pass. A few weeks ago I found a weeping giant redwood but gave it a pass because the name "giant redwood" would have set off alarm bells with the lovely mrs myshkin. She doesn't share my love for trees. So this is the little beauty I purchased:

I was told that it's a weeping blue Nabor Cypress. When I got home and checked it out on the net I didn't see any such tree but what the hell, it's the only weeping blue Nabor Cypress on the planet. Or I had sucker written across my forehead and the lady took advantage of me.

Two years ago I planted a small cedar tree which looked kind of like Charlie Browns Christmas tree at the time:

And this is what it looks like now:

Pretty fucking good, eh!  I've faithfully watered and fertilized the little angel and kept a record of it's growth that I posted on a previous blog. It's getting too high to accurately measure now. Maybe Sonny can work a little trigonometry and give me an accurate figure. But I won't hold my breath, he's outgrown my world of trivial pursuits.

Remember the ivy?  It's also doing well:

The new growth has to mean that it's taken root and ready go but just to be safe, I'll give the little beauties a few more weeks in the pots. Plus I haven't really decided on a forever home for  these babies. It would  be cruel to plant them and then rip them out later if a better spot opened up. They've already been through enough trauma in their short lives.

The weather is warm today and quite possibly will be downright hot tomorrow so the water is truly warm in the pond and as always, there's plenty to eat.

Billy says he loves you sons of bitches.

Monday, 11 April 2016

Up in smoke

My luck ran out yesterday, woe was me.  I was happily mowing the lawn with my trusty Craftsman electric mower when things started to go south on me. The mower often gets clogged  when the grass is damp which is no big deal, I just flip it on its side and scoop out the clog. The mower slowed down so I released the safety switch and flipped it on its side but there was no clog so I just righted the machine and carried on. It still didn't seem right so I flipped it over again looking for a clump of grass but it was all clear. I was perplexed.

I continued on my merry way but it still didn't seem right so I flipped over again and noticed a little smoke around the blade. I had smelled something a  little  strange but thought it was just one of my international neighbors cooking some lovely ethnic cuisine. Now I knew what the smell was and what it meant, the mower was on borrowed time. I decided to take a break to let the smoke clear. After 20 minutes I returned to the scene of the crime and finished the area I was cutting. It's time for a new mower.

Luckily, I have a spare mower, a wonderful Craftsman gas mower I bought to cut my dad's grass a few years ago. But I'm not finished with the electric mower. Next time the grass needs cut, I'm going to fire up the electric  mower and keep cutting until the son of bitch erupts in flames. I didn't get to where I am today by letting a chinese lawn mower scare me. I'm actually looking forward watching it go up in flames.

It's nice to use something until it explodes rather than disposing of it before it's time is up. Kinda like wearing an old pair of Levi's until  the crotch and knees are nothing but threads.

Twenty years ago I would have taken the kids outside and said, "here, hold my drink and  watch this!" Then maybe roasted a few marshmallows over the flaming carcass.

Billy says he loves you sons of bitches.

Tuesday, 5 April 2016

An embarrassment of riches

It's hard to decide which season is the best for sports, the spring or the fall. In the spring baseball begins while hockey and basketball get ready for the playoffs. In the fall football gets under way while the baseball playoffs are in full bloom. It's darn near impossible to judge which is better, spring or fall?

This year I'm totally enjoying the champion's league soccer tournament. There were a few games this afternoon and I recorded them which leaves me in the unenviable position of having to stick my head up my ass so I don't hear the scores before watching the games. Life can be difficult.

Watching baseball and soccer has really improved with high definition TV.  The high def TV I bought 18 months ago is now obsolete, woe is me. The new standard is 4K and it too will probably be obsolete in a few years so I'm in no rush to run out and buy one. Watching baseball and soccer I always focus in on the grass. Nothing beats a good night baseball game with the lights shining on a beautiful green field of grass and when you contrast that with the gorgeous white uniforms of a few teams it's heaven on earth for me. And of course  I hit the mute button on the remote and play some nice light jazz. Nothing fucks up a game like announcers that just won't shut the fuck up.

With soccer the camera angles are critical. You need a broad view of the pitch to watch the plays develop and enjoy the crispness of the passing. It really ruins in the experience when the rubes in the stands all wear  light colored jerseys. A nice green well lit pitch with minimal visual interference from the stands is very important.

So which one is better, spring or fall?

They're both good so just sit back and enjoy the moment no matter what the season.

Yes, spring is in the air. But it's fall in the southern hemisphere.

Thursday, 31 March 2016


Faith can be a very powerful thing and I'm amazed that more people don't have any.  Of course faith comes in many different varieties and can be difficult to nail down, but I've got it!

I have faith in my good luck. There are two forces that are responsible for everything that has ever happened or ever will happen in our universe. Those two things are; TIME AND  LUCK.  Billy explained all this to me when we shared a room in the sanitarium. Or maybe I explained it to him.

My time is running out. Cause I'm gettin' on in the world, comin' up on sixty-one years. Sixty-one stoney gray steps toward the grave. You know the box awaits its grisly load, then I'll be food for worms. But until then, call me Lucky.

Years ago I came upon a gold ring in a pawn shop and that ring has been the centerpiece of my luck. Many wonderful things have happened since I purchased the lucky ring and I'm confident that countless more strokes of good fortune will fall my way as long as the ring is on my finger or placed upon my lucky altar. I wouldn't trade it for that piece of junk that the pope has his lackeys  kiss. 

I've also got a lucky coin, a lucky stone, a lucky nugget and lots more lucky stuff. But all this lucky stuff wouldn't be worth shit without faith. (except the ring, that son of a bitch is powerful on its own) One more comment on luck, it doesn't hurt to play the odds.

Never question a man's faith. No good will come of it and you'll only end up bitter, alienated and lonely. And you're not going to get lucky if you sit around and feel sorry for yourself all day. 

There's one sure fire way to ruin your good luck, buy a lottery ticket.

And if you see a black dog, get down on your knees and pray like crazy.

Thursday, 24 March 2016

Happiness and the BSI

Most of us want to be happy. Of course there are some people who were born to be miserable and are doing a darn good job of it. Many people ask themselves, "am I happy?" and for whatever reason are unable to come up with an accurate answer. I have asked myself that question countless times and finally came up with an answer. The BSI has given me a very good gauge on my happiness and provides me with empirical data on my emotional state and the need for corrective action.


I love bean soup and have found a very strong relationship between how often I make a big pot of bean soup and the state of my happiness. Making a good pot of bean soup is an all day affair and when I'm down in the dumps, I lack the energy and enthusiasm to make the soup. You may think I'm being flippant and even mocking people with depression but I'm deadly serious. For me, I can guage my state of mind by how often I make bean soup. I made a big pot Monday and will finish it tonight. The added bonus is that it's very healthy and if that isn't enough, it's also very convenient. What could be easier than dumping some stuff in a pot and heating for 5 minutes to get a balanced healthy meal?

If a happy man interacts with a miserable man, will the happy man elevate the miserable man's outlook on life? Or will the miserable man bring the happy man down to his level?

All I can say is, misery loves company so be careful out there.

Happy easter and be sure to leave a little treat for the Easter Turtle.

Thursday, 17 March 2016

Someone up there likes me.

Life is good at the sanctuary. The sun is shining, the flowers are in bloom  and the luck of the Irish has fallen upon your humble scribe. Yesterday was just another day in paradise until spirits of vikings past whispered in my ear that there was a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. It wasn't raining so I had to take my best guess as to where the lucky rainbow might be situated.  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, the deep breath felt very good but it soon be came apparent that deep breaths can't find rainbows for sour apples. I closed my eyes again and a glorious viking warrior winked at me, the game was on.

Like a kiss on the wind I was thrown to the stars......

I was led to value village and made a beeline to the china and pottery section with visions of moorcroft lollipops dancing in my mind. But there was no moorcroft prize at the end of the journey, just a bunch of old discarded knick knacks. If i was in need of some cute knick knacks, it would have been a bonanza but I currently have cute knick knacks up the yin-yang. So what the hell, even though I had pledged not to buy any more levis and t-shirts, the call of denim could not be ignored.

All I can say is someone up there likes me for what did I find? An old pair of red tab levis that were made in Canada and they were just my size. I tried them on and they fit absolutely perfect!  I have a 32 inch waist but almost all 32 inch waist jeans these days are way too big for me, "vanity sizing".  These old jeans weren't too tight and they weren't too loose. It was like my name was goldilocks and I had stumbled  upon the perfect bed. So what does the well dressed man wear with a black levis? Why a black t-shirt with a dog on the chest! The t-shirt could be a little smaller but what the hell, you can't fight fate.

Behold the new spring ensemble!

Happy Saint Patrick's Day!

Friday, 11 March 2016

The Beast

This is the beast who chewed my sneaker.
As you can see, she has absolutely no remorse for her evil deed and is in fact daring me to leave another sneaker unattended.

With spring just around the corner it's time to start thinking about tomato plants but the Rip hasn't lost her obsession for eating bugs. The warmer weather has brought out the flies and other winged insects and Rip has been outside snapping away at any insect with the temerity to trespass into her realm so I'm leaning toward skipping tomatoes this year. Last summer she spent a lot of time eating bees which  became quite annoying to me and lethal to the poor little bees going about their business.

This year my green thumb is returning to the wonderful world of ivy. I snipped a few vines from the local park and after watching Martha Stewart on you tube, I'm good to go.
Martha recommended using root hormone to get the little beauties started but as luck would have it, I'm all out of root hormone at the moment so it's going to be survival of the fittest. Any cutting from an inferior gene pool will wither away.

Survival of the fittest, that's what the Rip said when she came across an overweight Pug.

Hey Mack, your headlight's busted.

Tuesday, 8 March 2016

Gazelles vs Sambas?

A few days after the Rip arrived on the scene, she decided to rip up one of my blue suede adidas gazelle sneakers. I was totally bummed out and regretted not disciplining her for ripping apart an arnold palmer loafer the previous day. Woe was me, I really liked those old gazelles. All men my age need blue suede shoes to complete their wardrobe.

I came across green gazelles and tan colored gazelles but just couldn't find any blue ones. The younger generation is not into gazelles so most stores had a really crappy selection. But last week the store had blue suede sambas in stock and as luck would have it, they had my size in stock so I'm pleased to announce that the adidas sneaker void has been filled.

The problem is it's going take a year or so to get them broken in and faded. I bought a pair of stan smiths and a pair of the old fashioned classics last year. The stan smiths are just now starting to feel like old friends. The old fashioned classics are still stiff and shiny.

I've reached the age where it's doubtful that I'll be able to wear out all the shoes I own even if I never bought another pair in my life and it's only the casual shoes I speak of. I have enough dress shoes to last 3 life times and will probably wear them less than 20 times before I croak. My mission now is to wear out all the levis jeans, shirts and t-shirts in the closet. I'm pretty sure it's doable to wear out the jeans and t-shirts but it takes a long time to wear out the shirts. The levis shirts with pearl snaps will get worn to tatters for sure but the ones with crappy buttons are a long shot.

So when people ask me what I do in retirement, I tell them it's a full time job trying to wear out all my levis and sneakers before I croak.

Hey Mack, you're headlight's busted.

Thursday, 3 March 2016

bigger and better

The Rip continues to gain mass. From an original mass of 48 pounds to 53 pounds in November and now to the impressive mass of 57 pounds!

The day we brought her home I took a look at her and said, she's a 60 pounder if I ever saw one and was promptly told she couldn't carry that much weight without getting fat. Now sitting at a trim and muscular weight of 57 pounds I can see her easily putting on another 5 pounds. She's a little slower right now after sitting around the house all winter but once spring officially hits and she decides to spend some time outside running around like a maniac, the athleticism should return and the Rip will reign supreme,

I've been on an Albert King run recently and as soon as I heard this song, the ghost of Ruby returned. I really miss that big old lunatic.

God Bless you, Ms Ruby.

Monday, 22 February 2016

Get Over It

It's a wonderful day here in the great pacific northwest. The sun is shining and mist is rising from the green grass and healthy vibrant cedar trees. I can think of very few things that are more uplifting than a beautiful day after having gone through the bleak dreary days of winter. Shoot, I didn't even need a flashlight to pick up Rip's easter eggs this morning as we strolled through the park.

While walking around one of the lakes I heard a bit of a racket and the saw what looked like a duck putting on some sort of mating ballet in the water. Soon there will be mother ducks waddling and swimming around with their adorable broods in pursuit. Ain't life grand in the spring.

Although I'm taking a wee bit of a sabbatical from the foundation, I'm always on the lookout for something to aid me in the delivery of relief to the fragile and often broken souls turning to us for help and what I found yesterday should work very well, LED ZEPPELIN LULLABYES!! It seems like the perfect aid for those boomers needing a little help in achieving inner peace. Have I ever mentioned that boomers can be the biggest pain in the ass on the planet? Somewhere along the way a lot of boomers decided that happiness and success were entitlements, not something that had to be earned. As my former room mate Billy was so fond of saying, so it goes.

As I like to say and often get in hot water for saying at the foundation:

Suicide is not painless if left to an amateur.

And this is something that I'd probably be drawn and quartered for saying but I often feel like screaming while listening to certain self absorbed boomers going through their "poor little me" routine.

Sunday, 14 February 2016


I’m pleased as punch to announce the official time is......

A while back I was lucky enough to get a shiny new wrist watch but there was one small problem, the band needed adjusting. I’m pretty good at pissing on fires or killing flies with an elastic band but I was flummoxed with the stainless steel wrist band and the pins holding it together. The watch sat in the box as I debated with myself whether to take it to a jeweler or attempt it myself. The logic and instructions made the operation look like child’s play but I’ve fallen victim to apparent child’s play too many times to take anything for granted.

Earlier this week I enlisted an attractive young lady to assist me with the procedure. I had watched a few you tube videos and was ready to go. Of course the lousy pins did not come out as easily as they did on you tube but we finally got them out and it was time to reinsert the skinny and fragile little rascals. My attractive young assistant and I disagreed on the correct procedure but I deferred to her younger and higher functioning brain. Things didn’t go well and we bent a few pins before I went back to the you tube video and told her that I was correct, but she wouldn’t concede that she had made a mistake and the whole operation was abandoned. The next day I managed to get one pin inserted but then decided to quit while I was ahead and wait for sonny to drop by and complete the operation.

This afternoon sonny and I reinserted the remaining pin with ease and the radio controlled eco-drive perpetual watch is now on my wrist. The only drawback is the son of bitch is pretty big and clunky. According to the sales pitch, it’s supposed to reset itself to the correct second each night. If that isn’t nice, what is?

And when did whales start swimming on land?

Hey mister, your headlight is busted.

Sunday, 7 February 2016

Hello good friends

Life is wonderful at the foundation this year. It seems that it is so wonderful for the people in charge of healing the broken souls seeking help, that they don’t need me. I don’t think they ever really need me as much as I needed them. I hope to be needed for a few minutes before giving up the ghost.

I met all sorts of wonderful people over the years and if even a small percent of these decent human beings considered me to also be wonderful, then it was time well spent. Perhaps I’ll receive a telephone call one day asking for my assistance. As long as they don’t call me on the red phone, I’ll be very happy to assist in rescuing any people on the verge of defying their pre-programmed will to survive. Or if anyone needs a little unconditional positive support and guidance in entering the peaceful tunnel with the little white light at the end, I might be their man.

Many poor souls came to the foundation with the same question, “what are human beings for?” I could never answer that question and perhaps that is the reason my presence wasn’t as helpful as I wished it could have been. I went through a lot of pain for a lot or years wrestling with important questions about the purpose of human beings and couldn’t find any answers that made sense to me.

The only people I’ve come across over the years with an uncorrupted purpose on this planet have been volunteer firemen. When I get blue and think about the tunnel, it’s off to a small town I go and make a beeline to the volunteer fire department. Some volunteer fire departments are more friendly than others but most welcome me after I buy some new equipment for them.

Billy told me that the Brothers Karamazov found their purpose in heaven.

Hey Mack, your headlight is busted.