Monday, December 15, 2003

My Christmas wish- Michael Jackson amd Saddam Hussein in the same damn jail cell!

It ain't gonna happen in 2003 but maybe by 2010, these two boils on the ass of humanity will swappin' spit and Valentines in federal prison near you!
I couldn't believe when they flashed this asshole's mug on the screen early Sunday morning. He looked like he'd been buttfucked by several camels and left for dead. He looked like one of the homeless guys who panhandle near the 5th Street bridge. This guy was a dictator??? I guess all these punks look small and insignificant without their guns and bodyguards.

What punishment for him? First off, he can't be killed but once so the death penalty is rather moot. He definitely deserves it but it seems trivial since he can only die once.
He needs to be kept out of the International Court at the Hague because those pussies have no backbone or credibilty. He won't get the death penalty there. He needs to be tried in an Iraqui court by an American/Iraqui tribunal and given a fair trial. After that he needs to be visited by some Kurdish families who lost love ones in the 1988 massacre. Or he could be housed in an isolation cell near some Kurdish prisoners. Sometimes the threat of violence is more effective than the actual event.

Maybe since he hates the West so much we could house him at San Quentin or Atlanta and make him watch American TV on a daily basis. The TV would never be turned off and he would be bombarded with Western decadence until he begs for death. Could you imagine Jerry Springer, soap operas and inane commercials day and night for years? At first he wouldn't get it but after so much exposure to the language and culture, he would begin to crack. We could make him watch bad TV movies and car ads and Fran Drescher!!!!

I think this is a viable alternative to death penalty and is a fitting punishment for someone like him!

Friday, December 12, 2003

I am still stuck in this episode of Sick and can't seem to get out of it. I finally broke down and went to the doctor on Wednesday. They gave me Zithromax and another decongestant for something called Sinobronchial Syndrome. I don't give a fuck what it is called just get my head to stop pounding! I am blowing shit outta my head that is plain purelent! I am coughing up bits and pieces of lung and I swear a small piece of bronchiole went flying across the room yesterday. The kitten grabbed it and ran off with it! I think I may need that piece of lung later you fucking cat! I will go look for my missing lung when my head stops pounding.

I have missed 7 consecutive days at work and that is a recent record. I think I may have missed almost that many when I worked as an Ober Shite Meister at the psych unit. An Ober Shite Meister roughly translates into "He who is Boss of the Shit" in German.

I think this is what we used to call a sinus infection and I haven't had one like this in about ten years. I used to keep them on a regular basis and could count on having about four bouts a year. We used to have small children and I think I kept a serious sinus infection for about a year and a half. I hated to have them damn things because I worked with a bunch of people who never got them. When you don't get 'em you don't understand the pain!

I also used to go to a Nurse practitioner for treatment and she was a fucking imbecile. Nazi Nancy was sure there were no treatments for sinus infections or vasomotor rhinitis or whatever this shit is. She always prescribed the same shit- amoxicillin and some decongestant. Amoxicillin is for lame ass infections like a small cut or scratches. Amoxicillin can't handle the big boys of the germ world.

The weird thing about all these germs is that they are fucking getting resistant to drugs. Nazi Nancy didn't get that- she had her head up her ass as far as new treatments go. She finally got tired of seeing me- I could tell- she'd give me that "why are you here whining on my doorstep " look. Fucking bitch! I hope she gets a sinus infection that never goes away.

I have been able to keep them at bay for a good while. Thank God I found an ear nose and throat specialist who knew how to treat this shit. I am also glad that some researchers have developed new meds to deal with this. Flonase has been a blessing.

Well, my head is back to pounding and I am off to the couch for more great TV entertainment! Fran Drescher is chasing me around the room yelling "My Fazizzle has gone Flamizzle!" help!!!!

Sunday, December 07, 2003

VYVYAN: [comes back with a duffle bag] I'm afraid I couldn't find any needles, so we'll have to use 6-inch nails.

RICK: Vyvyan, you can't do acupuncture with 6-inch nails.

This is from an episode of The Young Ones called Sick and that's where I am right now. I've got this virus or whatever that going around. My fucking head is killing me, my throat feels like somebody seared it with a blowtorch and I hurt all over. I mean even my teeth hurt. I brushed my hair this morning and it felt like someone was yanking it out by the roots.

In case you are wondering, The Young Ones ran for about two seasons on British TV. It was hilarious and dreadful at times. The story centered around four male students who shared a flat. Neil was a fucking hippy and everyone hated him, Mike was "normal" he was a womanizing, beer swilling capitalist, Rick had a hard -on for Cliff Richards literally and quoted Cliff in every political discussion. Vyvyian was a hardcore heavy metal freak who enjoyed smashing walls and furniture. I think this show had flashes of brilliance and mediocrity at the same time. Catch it if you can it's worth the time.

Today's offering will be short and probably off the mark-but it is hard to tap keys through a fucking head full of pain and mucus.

What's with this Paris Trout sex video? I heard about it on the 'net and I think I tried to watch a clip or something. I couldn't tell anything it just looked like two people screwing. The clip I saw was dark and not very good.
Ain't she that rich gal who went to Green Acres or something? I liked Green Acres but it never spoke to the deviant inside me like Gilligan's Island did. I mean think of the possibilities for sexual hijinks on Gilligan's Island It's a porno waiting to happen.

I know her name isn't Paris Trout either, it's Paris Hilton. Paris Trout was one of the most reprehensible characters any writer ever created. The movie stars Dennis Hopper as Paris Trout and he is one hateful SOB. I had to quit watching this one because I got too grossed out by his actions. Rent it sometime if you are ever in too good a mood!

Well, the Nyquil, Tylenol #3, herbal tea, and other meds are kicking in. I am off to sleep now and if I live through this I'll see you on the other side!

Thursday, November 27, 2003

All's Quiet on the Western Front or pass the turkey and the No-Doz.

Thanksgiving was pretty uneventful at Dysfunction Junction. Nobody got trashed and trashed somebody else. The Spawn of Satan was either in a chemical straightjacket or is saving up for a show at Christmas. We had good food and quiet times. But that's not what you're here for....

I did get the dirt on another family in our neighborhood. We've known them for thirty plus years and their dysfunction outdoes ours by light years. Imagine the Clampetts on crack- Ellie doesn't collect "critters" she drags home any and every dick she can. Granny doesn't make moonshine but has lost her hearing in one ear and three fingers on her left hand after the meth lab exploded. Uncle Jed and Jethro cornhole each other during that one week in the month they're not gang bangin' Ellie May.

There are five adult children in the Cootie Factory plus Mom and Pop. There's Ollie, the obese fairy; The jailbird, who has never said no to drugs; Captain Sensible, the only smart one in the group; Lady Lane, she's just wacky; and Clogger, who used to be champion clog dancer until she took up with Tommy Two-Teeth. Clogger and Tommy have swapped body fluids to produce Dristan, their hellacious spawn. The word on the street is that Dristan can outcuss a sailor on shore leave. He learned to talk from one of those Sesame street knock- off toys. You pull the string and the a voice says "The cow says_____" Dristan thinks the cow says "Fuck You" instead of "Moo".

Anyway, the gossip is that Tommy Two-Teeth is a big time crackhead in addition to his winning personality. My brother says Tommy was hanging out at his house until he told him "Your wife said I can have IT anytime I want." My brother told him to leave and don't come back.
I think they both have mental problems, Tommy and my brother because they both want to have sex with the simian. Isn't this illegal in most states?

The icing on the cake, however, is what Tommy Two-teeth said to Mom at the Cootie Factory. He suggested that he, Mom, and Clogger get together for a little pillow talk! How classy is that-a hillbilly incest menge a trois.

Well, that's about all the blog that's fit to blog.
Have a good holiday!

Wednesday, November 19, 2003

Michael Jackson is my bitch!

Some lucky con is going to win the Cornhole Lottery soon as the Big Freak is finally behind bars! The arrest warrant has been issued and it's just a matter of time before Whacko Jacko is swapping spit with some tattooed scumbag.

I hate this miserable fuck! I've had ill will towards him since him and his jive-ass brothers invaded the Holy Sanctum of FM radio and proceeded to destroyed it. FM radio in the early '70's was a late night sanctuary for Hendrix and Led Zeppelin fans. It was a place where you could hear whole albums played. It was free of commercials, there were no playlists, and the DJ's ruled. Nobody gave a fine rat's fuck about the FM part of the dial. It was no-man's land. FM was a free space devoid of rules and sanctions. (BTW, Dan Akroyd did a great homage to FM in an early SNL sketch where he played a late night DJ).

I know MJ didn't single handly change anything- he's not that powerful. What did change it was a group of assholes in the music business who allowed this to happen. They are nameless and faceless, he is not.
One day I was loving this trip to No Man's Land and the next it was slowly being invaded by the creatures from the AM dial. They were interloper's who had no business in our turf.

I got pissed again when he bought the rights to the Beatles music. The whole fucking Beatle's catalog! Why did it have to be their music? It may not sound like that big of a deal but this move is worth billions of dollars over time. Whoever owns the catalog gets the royalties from the songs. Example, say a well known car company wants to use "Get Back" for a TV commercial. They pay a hefty fee to the publisher for use and every time the commercial plays it's worth a few cents. Now a few cents isn't much but think about how many times in a 24 hour period this commercial will play. Counting all the potential TV stations in this country alone and if the ad is in heavy rotation it could be in the tens of thousands of times. Small change adds up over time. This is just one song and that's not even counting radio ads.

Nothing in this rant so far is about anything criminal. MJ's been a weirdo what with the skin bleaching, the plastic surgeries and Neverland. Maybe he should change the name to I never say no Land.

There are the allegations of sexual misconduct and he has been successful in keeping them at this level. But now, it looks like the Prosecutor has his smoking gun and it may be a 12 year old cancer victim. A fucking kid with cancer not even the OJ jury could turn a blind eye to this.

I hope the Prosecutor can make the charges stick this time and that the victim won't be bought off. I'm sure Jacko's lawyer is studying the Johnny Cockroach book on underhanded cheap tatics. I've seen this douchebag on TV-I wonder how he sleeps at night? Probably on a pillow stuffed with hundred dollar bills. Maybe Michael's other glove is somewhere nearby!

I am sure there are alot of cons saving their canteen privilidges to buy Vaseline and roses. They are just counting the days until they can give Jacko a Thriller he won't forget!

Friday, November 14, 2003

Alright, Pilgrim, choke down that meal and smile!

Thanksgiving is wonderful holiday for the folks at Dysfunction Junction. There'll be laughter (at not with), good food and plenty of cheer. We'll have much to be thankful for this year, the Beast is now worm fodder, the house is sold, everyone has their health, and we all have jobs.

My semi-retarded sister in law has a job. She finally mastered the phrase "Would you like fries with that?" and is now working in a pool hall. Great balls o' fire! The government's plan to put everyone to work is a success! Even the semi-retarded can be trained.

She and my brother's original plans were to spend the holiday with my cousin and his family. He is a hard core drinker who is shacked up with this chick that looks like Willie Nelson. We call her that and have done it for so long I can't recall her real name. Anyway, Willie and Buck have two hellions of her own so the Demon child would have had company.

But NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

Something in the Cosmos failed ,some mechanism, something somewhere?? All plans are off and they are due to spend Thanksgiving with my mother! I really don't mind my brother, his simian companion, and their child.

I have to object to the Demon Child, Spawn of Satan. Spawn is a personality disorder in training. She is working out to join the Personality Disorders Hall of Fame one day. The PDHOF is located in Los Angeles, California near Hollywood. Speaking of Hollywood, the notion of a simian companion is pervasive in the movies
Tarzan had Cheetah, Clint Eastwood had one in those Every Which Way movies, and Ronald Reagan had one in the Bonzo series. There was a whole series of movies using a sort of reversed simian companion theme. The Planet of the Apes franchise is a good example of this.

Anyway, I digress, Thanksgiving I hope will be it's usual parade of bad behaviors, inappropriate comments and gaseous eruptions. Nothing makes Thanksgiving complete like a well-planned loud fart in the middle of the meal.

Pass the Turkey, asshole!

Tuesday, November 11, 2003

Strobe light vibes or a trip to X-Mart:

We finally made the trek to X-Mart Disco Diva, Dicey, Lil' Deb and me. I decided to forego the lime green pantsuit and the gorilla mask for this trip. It must be a sign o' the times but I was a little apprehensive.

I was fairly impressed with the layout and the clientele in this porn shop. It was cleaner and much nicer than some others I have seen. (Maybe one day we'll go on a Porn shop tour and present the best and worst).

Anyway, X-Mart did not seem to attract the trench coat crowd. Most of the clients were couples who looked like young professionals and not playground denizens.

We had fun looking at the dildos and marveling at each's sales pitch. We found one that had a built in strobe light (!); several were waterproof for bathtime fun; most were endorsed by adult film stars; one was called a Teal Missile(!) maybe we should be shooting these at the Iraqis. There were the inflatable dolls ( I don't get it??)whips, chains and handcuffs. The coolest things we found were Porn Star action figures! There were several of Sindy somebody and some other stars I never heard of.

We looked for something akin to a My First Makeup Kit but for a vibrator. Maybe it's called My First Dildo Kit or something. It would be for the novice pleasure seeker and would provide detailed instructions on use and care of your "friend".

The DVD and vid prices were way too high. You can get the same stuff on the Internet much cheaper. The rentals prices were cool though- free membership with ID and major credit card. Rental fees were two, three and four dollars according to how long you keep the DVD.

Bumper sticker seen at X-Mart: I am driving this way just to piss you off!

See ya next time!

Tuesday, November 04, 2003

I am kinda pissed off about this whole Jessica Lynchmania that is sweeping the country. There gonna be a movie this week and tonight there 's gonna be an interview with Diane Sawyer. BFD! What the hell's all the fuss about? Jessica went to Iraq, got captured and got rescued. Where's the drama?

Don't get me wrong. I'm glad this young woman went to serve our country and keep it free so I can say what I want. I don't have a problem with her personally. It's just this Mass Media shit- what's it all about? It's the way the Media has made her a hero and invested in a TV movie???? What the fuck?

I think it has to do with "sellability" and not whatever happened in Iraq. Come on, she white, she's young and she's fucking hot. It can't be because she's a woman either. There was another female soldier who was captured, paraded in front of Western journalists, and then rescued. But I am willing to bet she doesn't have TV movie pending. She was the cook from Fort Hood Tx. who hurt her foot. Remember her? I doubt it.

I am not trying to sound ungrateful or whatever. The thing is I know three war heroes personally and none of them ever got a TV show or nothing.

Dr. Floyd O'Neal was captured by the North Koreans during the Korean War. He served seven fucking years in North Korea's worst hellholes and he aint even got a write-up in the paper!
Seven years-courtesy of the N.Koreans! Give me a break.

Sgt Guy Goddard served in three fucking wars- WWII, Korea and Vietnam. He was away from his family so long that I didn't believe he existed until he came home for good. After he retired , he remodeled his house by himself and did a right admirable job. He never got a TV show.

Dave Travis was in WWII on Guada-fucking-canal! Trav killed a bunch of Japs by himself and earned three Bronze Stars! He went on to some other Pacific conflicts but where's the movie about Dave?

I am lucky as hell to have been acquainted with these folks and am grateful to each for his sacrifices. I have truly walked in the company of giants.

Monday, November 03, 2003


This is pretty fucking cool show on HBO. On the surface, it's about a Carnival traveling around during the DustBowl. Beneath the surface, however, is the real story of a battle of Good Vs. Evil.

The landscape of the show is barren, dark, and brooding. There is usually a impending disaster such as a dust storm or tornado looming on the horizon. Samson, the dwarf, is supposedly the leader of the pack and gives orders directly from "Management". "Management" has it's own trailer and sleeps behind a drawn curtain. It has yet to be seen but it spoke during a recent episode. Samson looked like he was in charge until Lodz, the blind mentalist, had a meeting with Management. Samson was asked by "management " to leave.

Ben is a chain gang escapee who has the power to heal. But this power comes at a huge price- as he is healing a small child of polio, the crops around them die as the child is healed. Ben tried to heal his mother of Dust Pneumonia in the first episode but she refused and called him "Satan".

Ben's nemesis is Brother Justin, a defrocked preacher. Brother Justin has a similar power to Ben's but he believes he is "The Left Hand of God". He broke a man's neck in a recent episode and has met Ben in several cool dream sequences.

There is much going on in this show and you need to watch each episode at least twice to get a feel for it. It's got that David Lynch feel- Michael Anderson who played the Dwarf so well on Twin Peaks is Samson. But the script pays homage to Lynch with all kinds of twists and turns and quirky behavior.

Check this show out - it worth the price of a ticket to the Carnival.

Sunday, November 02, 2003

Halloween on Walton's Mountain:

I spent Halloween on Walton's Mountain with Miss Moose, Disco Diva, Peaches, a way too serious grad student and some new parents. We all partied at Miss Moose's house near Olivia and John's house.

The music was very cool because I provided it from my collection. We listened to the soundtrack from The Return of the Living Dead , Donna Summer, Culture Club, Link Wray and the Wraymen, an exercise record from the 1950's, a barbershop quartet salute to the Bicentennial and The Moms and Dads. I also had the Fells, Robots Are Real, and Johnny & the Hurricanes lined up.
We had a Limbo contest complete with the Limbo Rock album by the Crosshairs(?).

Disco Diva looked like$10 million bucks as always. I swear this girl could shine wearing a plastic trashcan liner. She was a flapper and I'll post pics ASAP.

Peaches did a homage to the Scandal de Jour in Augusta, She went as a pregnant homecoming queen just like the one at Richmond Academy. We have our own little Harper Valley PTA here. We called Peaches the Ho-coming Queen.

Miss Moose went as Georgie Shrub (Bush) complete with a knife through the skull. Don't tell John Ashcroft or Miss Moose may become Missing Miss Moose! We'll search for her in the Gulag later.

I dressed in a lovely lime green pantsuit from the '70's. I had a gold lame' blouse and a gorilla mask. I had a beautiful wool wrap but it was 75 degrees so I ditched it.

Disco Diva, Peaches and I went to Bi-lo to get more wine. We had fun annoying the customers and acting the fool. I didn't talk the whole time I just made monkey sounds and scratched myself. I went over to the produce department and fondled the bananas while Disco Diva and Peaches went to get wine. The employees got a kick out of the whole show.

I made my now infamous Kitty Litter cake and served it at the party. It has two kinds of cake, vanilla pudding and melted Tootsie Rolls and is served in real cat litter box. It looked too real for some folks but Disco Diva said "This is the best shit I ever had".

I'll try to post pictures on the LEMA site so stay tuned!

G'day mate! I'm off to put some joey on the barbie!

Sunday, October 26, 2003

K and G came over Saturday to see the studio. They were fairly impressed. They liked the layout and the bizzaro ambiance.
We ate hamburgers from Broad Street Burger which used to be What-a-burger. The recipe hasn't changed only the name. It's great to know if something works you keep doing it. The folks over there realize they have a winner and they don't need huge ads, clowns, or plastic toys to boost sales. I don't think they advertise in the local paper or on TV. I don't think I have ever seen a commercial for What-a-Burger. They don't have low-fat menus, a salad bar or cheesy playgrounds for kids. There are no ads about the nutritional value of the menu items. The product is 1950's hamburgers served quick and cheap.

A little while later we all decided to go to the Augusta Exchange Club Fair. This county fair has been around since the dawn of time. Not much changes here either. The Midway is filled with throngs of people, shouting gamers and delightful aromas.
We ate greasy corn dogs, French fries soaked in salt and washed it down with Coca Cola. It was wonderful. They had the Hymalyan, the Ferris wheel , the Haunted House and a giant blow up slide shaped like the Titanic.

We went to the "Freak Show". It was a bunch of animals that had various birth defects. There was the Five Legged Cow, the Punk rock Rooster and the Four Horned Goat. There was a throwback to the "real" freak shows of long ago- they had two fold-out signs full of pictures. The Bearded Lady, the Siamese Twins, and Ape Man were there in their faded glory.
I remember meeting "Dog Boy" at the Fair. I got him to sign a picture of himself and I have since lost it. His name was Bill Cole and he impressed me because he wasn't mean or bitter. He was making the best out the hand fate dealt him. He was working and not sitting around waiting for a government check. I guess the Politically Correct crowd ended gigs for people like him. Who are these people who have nothing better to do than wring their hands over circus sideshows and such? I guess they're the same folks who join PETA and stand up for lobster and cockroaches.

I have to comment on one more thing- We all were appalled at the number of Irish travelers at the Fair. If you don't know about the "Gypsys" or travelers- they live in an enclave outside of Belvedere, SC. They are known as con men, thieves and liars. The group's main income is from the home repair rip-offs they perpetrate on the East Coast.
One of the major netwoks has done a segment about them and their con. The men work in pairs and prey on the elderly. They go to a house and while one occupies the owner the other slips into another room and sprays a spot on the ceiling with water. The first guy brings the victim back to the other guy and says "Look like your roof is leaking". The unsuspecting victim will usually shell out big bucks for unnecessary repairs.

The most disturbing thing last night was the number of Gypsy women there. They all looked virtually alike- tight jeans plastered on a non-existent ass, long curly hair, enough make-up for six women, high cheek bones, scrunched up features from years of in-breeding and the obligatory pumps with stiletto heels. This uniform is a requirement because all the females from age 4-60 wore some variation of this. The most troubling part of this is there were little Jon-Benet type girls trailing around with these people.

This is a strange bunch of folk who pride themselves on clannishness and separation from the rest of the world.

Tha's all for now, I am off to shoot Rhinos!

Wednesday, October 22, 2003

We finally sold the house in Athens and I am relieved that the albatross is gone for good. I loved that place-my kids grew up there and we had a great run. But in the end it was too much-with the monthly payments and the mortgage company. Wells Fargo sucks ass-we didn't even choose them for our mortgage. We went with another company which was bought out in the Great Real Estate Race. Some choice- this company is the worst for resolving problems and being consumer friendly. Their so-called customer service is a Politburo-type maze that leads to frustration after frustration.

Our new kitten is finally getting over the worms and resulting Flaming Puckered A-hole. She is still shitting dead worms and will be for a while. This reminds me - I plan to make a Kitty Litter Cake for Miss Moose's Halloween party. The cake looks like what's in the cat box but is totally edible. It is served in a real cat litter box.

I just got an offer to drink some Yeungling Beer so it'll be short tonight.

See ya!

Saturday, October 18, 2003

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre was great! It had blood, guts, gore, humor, sex, and everything a great horror movie should have. It churned my stomach and made me queasy and made me nervous. There are some genuine scary moments too. I finally went to a horror movie that made me jump in my seat. Haven't done that since 1978's Halloween.
Jennifer Biel is hot! She's over eighteen right? I thanked God that the director found the right times to wet her skimpy tee shirt down! And the chase scenes- she jiggled and jiggled and didn't take her clothes off once! It was perfect.
I see in the credits that Tobe Hooper had his hand in this and I am glad. This needed the master's touch. They really didn't advance the story but that is not necessary. We just the love the telling of the tale. This is the Grandaddy of all Urban Legends. Thankfully there was no attempt to "modernize" the story and make it happen in the present. It was 1973 and these kids in the van were off to a Skynyrd concert. There was dope smoking, titty groping and high hoping that Jen Biel fell out of the tee shirt.
Go see The Texas Chainsaw Massacre It's worth it!

Friday, October 17, 2003

It's getting close to my birthday and I am glad to be here. We plan to see The Texas Chainsaw Massacre at the midnight show. I've read a few reviews and some critics don't like it much. I don't care.
I am going to see Jennifer Beale get chased around in that tight halter. I hope she's over eighteen because I have been waiting a long time for this. She is over eighteen right?

I feel like Quagmire sometimes. This reminds me of The Family Guy episode where Meg goes out for cheerleading but ends up as a drum majorette instead. She is invited to a slumber party with the "cool" kids and they have plans to humiliate her.

Quagmire knocks on the front door of the teenage host's house.
She answers and he says: "Hello, how old are you? Eighteen??
She says "Sixteen"
Quagmire : "Close enough!"
She yells: "MOM!"
Quagmire : "I like where this is going!"

I have decided to change my name. I would like to be known as Craven Moorehead. Thank you.

I'll blog a review of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre soon.

"Look what your brother did to the door!" -Dad to Leatherface. TTCM

Here's a Geiner for ya! Why don't people like to play cards with Ed Gein?
Because he might come up with a good hand!

Why did Ed Gein like to keep his heat turned up in the house?
To keep the furniture from getting goosebumps!

Monday, October 13, 2003

If I knew where to send this letter to Rush Limbaugh I would do it.

Dear Rush,
I am not one of your fans. In fact, I think you preach some pretty mean hearted stuff and I don't support you. You've apparently been pretty hard on some folks in the past and now things are a lot upside down for you. I hate it for you.

It seems to me that you and most of your listeners believe that all drugs and all addicts are bad. Well, not all drugs.Certainly there maybe a few of your country club buddies who can't seem to stop drinking and you might know a few who have been in treatment. So booze is okay even though it's very addictive and has ruined more than a few lives.
You probably know some people in your social circle who have used cocaine. It's even been said that the current President Bush has been known to do a line or two. So cocaine might not be a bad drug if the right people use it.

I have listened to your program more than a few times and I get the impression that the only addicts you have a problem with are poor, non-white and use Bad drugs. What are Bad drugs? There are no bad drugs. There are just people like you who are still clinging to the illusion that such things exist.

You have much in common with those whom you said should be jailed for using. You are addict just like Bill T, Tim G, Truman D, and Wayne P. I wonder if you should go to jail for what you did? Maybe so and not one of those posh resort jails for white collar guys. No, you should go to a hellhole with too many inmates, not enough staff and too many germs floating around.

I am sure you'll buy your way into a place like Betty Ford or Hazelden. A place where you have access to the best treatment available and there are no thugs to endanger you.
It's really all about access, isn't it? If you can pony up the dough- you go to place where the best treatment is available. If not ,you go to county lock up where you may face serious prison time and if you are lucky there will be a half-assed treatment program available.

I really hope you kick this thing. It's rough and unpleasant. Sobriety sucks! Just ask an addict. If something good can come of your plight, I hope that this will put a white face on addiction;a face that almost everyone can relate to.
Maybe you can help wake up the sleeping masses who still think that addiction is someone else's problem.

Sunday, October 12, 2003

What is this stomach bug going around? I have had cramps, headache, and general malaise for about a week now. I stayed home most of the weekend and slept. We did brave the drizzle ((brave the drizzle???? what?) to go to a few yard sales. I must be sick I paid way too much for some warped 78's and they weren't even Paramounts or anything! I did buy a way cool mushroom shaped foot stool for the studio.

I spent part of Saturday at JW's house playing guitar and singing. I did feel somewhat better but not great. After that I came home and watched the Bulldogs slaughter the Tenn Vols. That was some ass whuppin'. I loved it.

I slept most of today and just now got up. I plan to watch the Sopranos and Carnivale tonight.

I tried to get together a collage using the warped 78's, pictures of Willie McTell's grave and some posters but I just didn't have the spark.

I tried to practice a little guitar and that fell flat too.

I think it might be stress- the verdict came back for my workmate with pancreactic cancer. It's the TIGER!- a big, ugly, hungry mofo with a nasty disposition. The cancer is in the pancreas and liver. It is not operable. It's just a matter of time before the curtain falls.
The way I feel you'd think it was me with the news. Right now, I am healthy as a horse and don't have any reason to be so fearful. I feel helpless of course because there ain't no changing the verdict. It ain't fair, but nothing in this place is.
This fear comes from the fact that somewhere out there in the vastness of time and space, I have got an appointment that I can't miss. I can't be early and I won't be late. It 'll come at a prescribed time and in a certain manner. That's a fact Jack!
I guess we all go along doing the daily bullshit dance to keep our minds distracted from this certainty. The bullshit dance becomes THE THING, the only thing that matters. Bills, work, mortgage companies, wars in Iraq, the economy, Rush Limbo's pill problem, politics, and all them other distractions mean nothing to me. I've got my own row to hoe. It's time to focus and keep my eyes on the prize. All that other shit is just noise. The fact is I've got an appointment and a long way to go before I sleep.

I'm stark naked but I don't care
I'm going off in the woods
I'm hunting bear. -bob dylan

Tuesday, October 07, 2003

Yesterday at work, I swear I heard Disco Diva's voice. She was talking to CF, my supervisor. I went out in the hall and looked up and down. No Diva. Later I found out it was Peaches in for a chat. That's what we call an illusion in my line of work-it's a misperception of reality. I'm glad to know I have illusions.

I am pissed off at PETA (again!). I think that fax they sent to Roy Horn's hospital room was in poor taste at least. Here's what I said in my e-mail to them:

Your fax to a badly injured performer was crass, unkind and down right mean spirited. Would you say something similar to a female rape victim? Maybe women who dress provocatively deserve to be assaulted?
PETA is run by bored douchebags who don't have a life. Your collective warped mind set is sickening to say the least. Get the fuck out of the Ivory Tower and get a life! There are more important issues in the world than shutting down a circus or trying to save lobsters from becoming entrees.
At home enjoying a nice thick ribeye,
Bill Scoggins

How 'bout them er? uh... hoglights!

I just found out that email address is not valid. I got the email back. Maybe they realize the indefensibility of their position and have retreated? Nah... fuckin' babies!

I am forming my own animal rights group-it's called peta (pronounced pet-a, short e please!) It stands for People Eating Tasty Animals Ted Nugent is our chef and our maitre-de is Sidney Greenstreet ( rotund actor who played in Casablanca and The Maltese Falcon).

I am off to shoot Rhinos-G'day!

Monday, October 06, 2003

I exercised my God-given right to shoot the hell out of targets and make as much noise as I can. We went out Sunday to a firing range near Plant Voglte in Georgia. My progeny and I shot an Argentinean-made Mauser .30-.06, a Bennelli 12 gauge, a Colt Python .357, a Glock 9, and a Remington 12 gauge.

Hannah shot all the guns except for the Remington but was partial to the Python. She managed the kick very well with the .357 and the .38 rounds. She even took the Bennelli well but the Mauser was a little much. It is a military weapon so it has no padding on the shoulder rest. Hannah is 14 BTW and had never seen a gun except for my 30-30 Marlin. This was her first shoot and I am pretty sure it won't be her last.

Dylan did well with all the guns but is partial to the Python and the Bennelli. He murdered a Coke can and several boxes before surrendering his weapon at the end of the shoot.

I really liked the Mauser even though it was a little hard on my shoulder. The Bennelli is a terrific weapon-it lays out a compact scatter that was murder on a box. The Glock was easy to handle and had a compact feel to it. It's good to know that there is still a place for men and women to get together and blast targets into smithereens!

I did something Saturday that was not masculine. I bought Hannah a large collection of Barbie dolls and accessories from the 1960' and '70's. I went to yard sale and the woman had Barbie furniture from the '70's still in the box! There were 10 or 12 figures, a car, and a ton of Barbie clothes. I got a whole big box of stuff for $16.00!
My testosterone level bottomed out when I got home and actually started going through the stuff. There were cheesy clothes from the '70's, all kinds of accessories and even the Afghan Hound that Barbie had! Mrs. Willie looked at me and said "You're enjoying this too much". I just can't help it -it reminds me of when I was a little girl!

My testosterone level got back to normal after Saturday's Ga/Alabama game and the shooting range on Sunday. I feel manly enough to open a jar, change the oil in my car or not ask for directions when lost.
Roger Wilco! 10-4 and out!

Saturday, October 04, 2003

The Arms Dealer or my case for Gun Control- I had some rough years as a teenager growing in Hellhole, Ga amongst racists, retards and gun nuts. It was the 1970's and the South was a place removed from the world. It was a time when some people kept their inbred relatives at home in the attic: a Boo Raddley moment of Southern Gothic decay; a time of fear and more fear.
I met the Arms Dealer when I was 14 years old and he already had rep as a bully. I was intimidated by him as were all of my friends. Me and the Army Brat started hanging with him for the same reason, you didn't want the Arms Dealer on your bad side.
He was convinced that there would be a large scale race war in the near future. He was also convinced that the best way to deal with it was to be armed to the teeth. The world had one saving grace at that point in time, The Arms Dealer was only fifteen years old.
I spent too much time listening to this crap and soon found myself caught up in the moment. Racism and fear were everywhere in the 1970's. At home we got it and at school we got it.
I hung with him until 1976 when he broke into my house, stole my father's pistol and some silver coins. My father and I went to his house and confronted him. Of course, he lied and lied some more. He finally got a wiff of the truth when we threatened to go to the police. We got the pistol back and less than half the coins. It seems the brainchild cashed the coins in at the neighborhood pool hall and treated his other asshole buddies to a few games.
A few months later, the Arms Dealer and one of his cronies got busted big time. They broke in a gun shop and stole shotguns, rifles and ammo. When I heard this I knew he was still planning for this race war. They were looking at some serious time. His parents talked the police out of pressing charges and they decided to get him psychiatric help. His well intended but lousy family decided the best way to treat this is Outdoor Therapy. His parents had to pay like $1200 per month for psychiatric treatment at a camp in Atlanta. It was a King's Ransom in those days.
I knew they had wasted their money when Army Brat and I went to see him about eight months later. All he did was brag how he stole switchblades during an outing to Mexico.
What has all this got to do with right now? It seems Arms Dealer has made contact with my brother and is looking to connect with me. It won't happen in a million years. The most disturbing part of this is that Arms Dealer let my brother come over to his house to see his massive arsenal. He's way over legal now and has amassed quite a collection of guns, ammo and whatever. It scares the shit outta me that someone who is this paranoid and unstable is allowed to have guns. Not only to have one gun but all kinds of weaponry. I hope his NRA membership is up to date!

Friday, October 03, 2003

Who is surprised that Rush Limbaugh is a HYPOCRITE! ?That's a damn no brainer. It's like being surprised that Bill Clinton or Jesse Jackson both have big appetites for SEX!
It's like being disappointed that your Cracker Jack toy is a cheap, plastic, piece of shit that breaks five minutes after you play with it. It's like being stunned when you get a hellacious hangover from drinking MD 20-20. Come on people, there are just certain things that are almost truisms and this is one.
Repeat after me- Rush Limbaugh is a deaf-assed, Oxycotin chompin' pig and I pledge to never support him any more.
Further more kids, Don't follow leaders and watch the parkin' meters!
What is it about this guy that people like? I have tried to listen to him more than once and he is boring. He's got a broken record schtick that sounds like Clinton started World War II, Clinton invented toxic waste, pollution and government redtape. Clinton did this, Clinton did that, he invented adultery, sexual harassment and fondling women. If you listen to Rush long enough, Clinton and the Democrats are responsible for every social ill in this country and it is incumbent on every right-thinking American (Republican) to clean up this mess.
That's enough political fuckedupness. Here's some more from the World of Work or "Hididdley Ho, Slaverarinos!"

I work in a public mental health facility in SC and at times , it reminds me of the Star Wars Universe. In my previous posts, I talked about Jabba the Hut, a walking, talking, large mass of dysfunction.
From the good side of the Force, there is Obi Wan Kenobi, a kindly but sometimes gruff old goat of a psychiatrist. Obi Wan seems to have a slight case of Altzheimer's, but he's a good soul who is generally benign.
Then there's Chewbacca, a large man who is partially deaf. Chewy is a great fellow but goddamn, you can't understand but every third word! Talking with Chewy is like trying to get directions from a Scotsman- you wonder why you bothered in the first place!

Work has always fascinated and repulsed me at the same time. My experience has been that I go to some place and work for 8 hours with people that I normally wouldn't give the time of day to. Not all, mind you , because there's always that clique of "workmates" that I click with. They are usually the subversives, the troublemakers and the outcasts. My workmates never buy into the buzzwords and the latest management crappola.
I got in a little hot water once at my old job. This was when "continuous Improvement" was the management mantra. All these management fucks were going around the hospital having pep rallies for CI. CI was IT, the biggest and Brightest thing since the birth of Christ! Come one Come all! Get on the CI Bandwagon!
Only problem was that CI didn't sound like anything but a fucking rehash of some other Management mantra. The first time I heard about it it was called "Improved Customer Service" or something. At that time, my department spent a whole fucking Saturday in this turd of a meeting. We going to be the first department in the hospital to become Stepford Employees. Yee Haaa! Everyone else would follow and we would all be happy little robots spewing out the Customer Service mantra! Nobody else went. We were the only department who had to waste their time off in these meetings.
When CI came out, I wouldn't have it! I refused to become a Stepford Employee. I even made up a little song for all the CI devotees. It was sung to the tune of the old GI Joe ad- " C.I. Joes! C.I. Joes! Improving Man from head to toe!" The VP of Toiletries was not amused. Neither were my supervisors but I laugh about it to this day! Ha! Ha!
I'll sign off with TC's favorite quote "Think outside the box"

Thursday, October 02, 2003

Disco Diva has been gone from our midst for only two days and boy, do I miss her. I swear to God, next time my aim will be better! Lunch time just ain't the same without her. I miss her cackling, her leg spasms, her Tourette's Syndrome when she screams "Nasty Ass Mutherfucker!" Seriously, she is none of these. She is photogenic, razor wit, Disco Diva!

Miss Moose is getting a job in a jizz bank. Nothing to do with actual jizz or its collection. She will be an egg coordinator person. That means when women want to donated their eggs (cluck!cluck!), Miss Moose will interview them and determine if they are good candidates. What makes a good egg donor? I dunno.

I had a friend who was in the jizz business. He worked night shift at the porn theatre cleaning up between shows. Jizz Mopper-that's what they called him.

Peaches and Papa Smurf are in the Caribbean on a cruise. I guess it's the same one the Mismatched cruise went on last week. The Mismatched cruise was these four chicks from work who booked a cruise together. There was Jabba the Hut (she posts on those BBW sites), Space Cadet (loopy, but likeable), Beauty Queen (a perfect waste of good pussy), and StopWatch ( she plans her bathroom breaks). Beauty Queen is gorgeous, simply stunning, but there is nothing behind the smile. Complete dead space. It's too much to bear.

It seems Jabba and Beauty Queen went swimming with the dolphins. These poor mammals (the dolphins) had to pull Jabba through the water and worse yet, they had to push her too. Where's that damn PETA when you need them?
Rumor has it that Beauty Queen wouldn't let anybody take her picture when she wore a swimsuit. Blame that on useless Fundamentalism! It seems her father is a Fundamentalist preacher or something. It should be against the law for rabid religious types to screw a kid up like that. I always heard the Preacher's kids were the wildest of them all.
I went to a Baptist run school from first to fourth grade . It was strict fundamentalist crappola dealt out on a daily basis.
My "girlfriend" in third grade was a preacher's daughter and she was wild ! Believe it or not, she used to get me to sit on the back seat of the bus with her and she 'd ask if I wanted to see her pussy. I wouldn't do it because I was scared we'd get caught. She'd make plans for me to come to her house to do God knows what. I never did, but I said I would. Really didn't have a clue what she was talking about.
This went on the entire Third grade. Sandy and I would sit on one side of the bus and her friend Rose and her "boyfriend", Ricky would sit on the other. Rose and Ricky would sit there and feel each other up.

Once, I dropped my pencil on the floor and Sandy pushed my head up her dress! I thought God Himself was coming down to spread wrath on my little ass!

Fundamentalism should come with a large warning: Beware! This bullshit can warp your mind. Not recommended for children under 18 years of age, the elderly or those capable of independent thought.

Good night Irene!

Tuesday, September 30, 2003

I turned on the TV this morning and there was a story about Presidential candidate Howard Dean and how he is using the 'Net to lure voters. Charlie or Diane used the word "blogger"to refer to someone in the Dean camp who posts his experiences with Howard Dean online.
Now I suppose the Bush camp can't wait to present their own blogger;next comes Ahnald and Bustanut in California. I can see Katie Coric (she's related to a sprite BTW) "...and blog, blog, blog. Then the Blogger put his blog in my blog and I got all wet".

Bush Camp? Hmm that sounds fun. My new bumper sticker reads "I spent my summer in Bush Camp!" I think we need to send our wives/gfs/love slaves to Bush Camp- maybe some extra training is just what the doctor ordered. The sign at the gate to Bush Camp reads- "At Bush Camp -we don't beat around the bush!"

Politics-I guess we will soon be saturated to the point of screaming with political BS. I used to think it was important to get involved but after the attempted coupe of Bill Clinton, I see politics as a large black hole populated with con men, grifters, cheap whores, groupies and hangers-on. It 's a lot like pro wrestling- there's a good guy, a bad guy and the fate of the world rests on your vote.
American Presidential politics boils down to this: All potential candidates are from the same social class. They all went to Harvard or Yale or Princeton. They are part of the Power Elite as C. Wright Mills put it. Democrat/Republican means nothing. It's a convenient product labeling system much like Coke or Pepsi. Whoever is elected will guide the country slightly to the Left or slightly to the Right without much upset. The key here is the ability to guide the country without upsetting the Status Quo. This is why Ralph Nader will never be President nor will Al Sharpton. They represent too much change too fast and that is not good for the Status Quo. The trains must run, the condom machines have to be filled and the sweet, sweet profits have to flow.

Well, I am stepping off my soap box- What's next? I watched Martin Scorcese's Blues special last night and was pretty impressed. This was the one with Blind Willie Johnson, J.B. Lenoir and Skip James. I didn't see enough of Blind Willie Johnson- I missed the first 15 mins. The part about Skip James was cool! I don't know how they filmed it but it was like you were watching his 1931 recording session where he cut 18 or more songs. I am looking for some Skip James records now. I was really impressed with his style.
Blind Willie Johnson - I got a good story about one of his records. In 1985, my wife and I lived in Nashville, TN and we were dirt ass poor. We were so poor, if I didn't wake up Christmas morning with a hard-on I had no toys for Christmas!
Anyway, our broke asses were at a Salvation Army Thrift Store and we were about to leave when Faye handed me this 78 RPM. She said "Who is Blind Willie Johnson?"
I said " Don't know but I'll take it." I recognized the Columbia D series serial number and went to the desk. The lady said "one dollar" and that's all we had left. We spent our last dollar on a Blind Willie Johnson gospel/blues record and I never regretted it.
It is one of the high points in my record collection.
Anyway, the Blues series is on tonight with BB King if you are interested. That's on Public TV BTW.
I am finished for now-goodbye!

Monday, September 29, 2003

Monday September 29, 2003

What exciting things can we discuss today? How about some more about Sheb Wooley? I was riding out to my client's house today and I thought about Sheb. He wrote the theme song for Hee-Haw by God and Purple People Eater! I thought "Right now, somewhere in the world somebody is watching Hee-Haw". That's a great thing for a songwriter to have a song that gets played multiple times a day all over the world.

Maybe someone from the Taliban has a pirate satellite and is watching Buck and Roy right now. Rumor has it that Saddam Hussein built a special feed to his T.V. just so he could watch Hee-Haw. I hear he used to beat off watching Lulu Roman in the bathtub!

I went to the doctor today and saw an old friend of my father's. I didn't get a chance to speak but I guess this is what started all this Hee-Haw business.
Will used to be in the Martinez Volunteer Fire Dept with my Dad. The Fire Dept. was a combination social club and fire protection agency. The main emphasis was social club and if they were sober enough to fight fires-good enough.
The MVFD bought a tract of land near Chigoe Creek on Clark's Hill Resevoir for our families to camp and swim. There were several other families that joined the same year. Leon and Jack were the first to buy mobile homes and put them on the lake. We followed soon after that and Will and his family brought their trailer later.
Leon and Jack took it a step farther and built wooden decks so they could grill and drink.
It was an unwritten rule that on Fridays after the cars were unpacked and the kids were off beating each other's asses, the adult children would gather on Leon's deck to drink and tell jokes. There was always a small contingent there and after dark howls of laughter could be heard around the lake. These sessions went on all weekend with milling around time at fourish, full fledged swilling by eight and howls of drunken laughter lasting past midnight.
These sessions went on for years and membership would wax and wane according to who was getting along outside the meetings. Sometimes different families would be on the outs and the respective adult child members would refuse to attend.
One day after Will and my father had both gotten tired of almost mandatory attendance on Leon's deck. Will looked at Dad and said "Why ain't you down at Hee Haw getting some sugar from Leon?" My father mouthed "Fuck You" and they both broke up laughing. I was standing off to the side trying not to bust a gut. From that day on, the sessions on Leon's deck became known as Hee-Haw!
That's all for today folks.

Sunday, September 28, 2003

This is a companion page to Sordid Tales of Augusta, GA and other environs located at the Lower Ellis Street Music Asylum page. For connection to the LEMA page: click here

Sunday, September 28, 2003
Disco Diva has left our dysfunctional work family. She quit because the SC Mental Health system is so fucked up that good people cannot be retained. Took a pay cut and all. She's a good therapist and maybe it's better she quit now than get more burned out and become a shitty therapist. Anyway like Tony Soprano says " What the fuck you gonna do?"

These past few weeks have been in the shitter. Warren Zevon, Johnny Cash and John Ritter died. So did Sheb Wooley. It was the Sept.11 anniversary, my dog had to be euthanized and a good friend of mine is separated from his wife. One of my workmates may have pancreatic cancer and I think this is by far the worst yet. Pancreatic cancer is the bad mutha of all cancer diagnoses. When people hear this they tend to start digging graves and picking out funeral clothes. Anyway, we'll have to wait and see how all this pans out.
All this cancer shit reminded me of a story I heard once and always attributed to Rudyard Kipling. It is called "The Lady or The Tiger?"by Frank Stockton. It seems there was this King who lived in a far off land and he had this hottie daughter. He was trying to keep her from getting laid too soon so he forbade all the boy servants from talking with her. There was the one particular gardener who was also hot and young. The Princess really wanted this boy to tend her garden but she knew she couldn't because of the King. Anyway, one day this hottie gardner was underneath her window and she peeped him out of the corner of her eye. He probably had his shirt off since he was hot and that didn't help. They got to talking and pretty soon the King woke up from his nap and heard them.
He had that boy arrested on the spot and put in the jailhouse. The King also decided that this offense was so bad that the hottie gardner should be put to death. He decreed that the boy should be brought to the town's arena and in front of everybody he would have a choice of two doors. Behind one was a beautiful woman who he could marry on the spot and behind the other was a huge, hungry tiger who would eat him alive.
Miss Priss, the princess, found out about this and she didn't like either choice. She also bribed a few guards and found out the King's plan for which door was which. When they brought that boy out in the arena, she moved her right hand slightly and he nodded. He chose the door on the right but did she give him the Lady or the Tiger? Nobody knows.
Thinking about this story related to my friend, I think the choices are more bleak. Behind one door is a coffin and behind the other is Chemotherapy. Which one is it gonna be? Nobody knows.

well enough gloom and doom. I have a few questions of the rhetorical nature. Why is Justin Timberlake still alive? I mean, Johnny and Warren have to go but Justin gets to stay.
Why is Carrot Top alive ? I mean John Ritter has to go and Carrot Top is still carrotting along.
And how about Sheb Wooley? He wrote Purple People Eater and the theme from Hee-Haw. Did he ever date the Britney Spears of his time? Did People magazine ever care what Sheb Woolley wore to the Grammy's
I don't know that he ever went but then I don't know everything.
More later please check back.