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.