Thursday, September 30, 2010


It might interest and disgust you to know that I had a bout with bedbugs last year. I woke one morning to find my left leg had been almost chewed to the bone. I think I got them from my ex-wife, who was so appalled that she had them that she made me swear an oath for no one to know, and oath I've kept till just now, mostly.
It reminds me of the year of my own separation and the morning I went to jail for driving with a suspended license. I had been cruising my estranged soon-to-be-ex-wife's house in the middle of the night, looking for signs that my soon-to-be-ex-best friend might have been there. The cops pulled me over and took me to jail.
They had impounded my car, and informed me that since I had no money, I would be in jail for at least two weeks. That would add up to a considerable sum in storage fees for my piece of shit van.
So I called the ex from jail to see if she could get my van out for me. I did not expect she might post my bail. In fact, I was certain she would not.
Bear with me here....
In jail they will not let me keep my glasses for fear that I may make a shiv out of them or something. So as I looked out the little window later that day, I see the desk sergeant booking some gal wearing a bright purple blouse with an international Orange skirt and white fishnets. She looked like she might be a redhead, but it was all just a purplish orange bozo dreamsickle lookin' blob so I turned to my celly (That's what you call your room-mate in jail) and said
And then the desk Sergeant led her into the cell right across from mine and slammed the door shut. She was looking out her little window right at me, but I still couldn't tell for sure that it was her because I can't see shit without my glasses.
But when a blurry little hand came into her window and appeared to be waving at me while she looked at me, well, I turned to my celly and said
They threw her in jail for warrants when she came up to get the release for my van. Of course, my soon to be ex-best friend came and bailed her out PDQ.
She made me swear an oath to never tell anybody about that either.
I guess the cats are out of the bag now.
And those Bedbugs?
Things got better.
All I have are roaches now, mostly.

Saturday, September 25, 2010


Sunday, September 19, 2010


I went Cowboy dancin' last night. I was leavin' out the door, puttin' on my one shirt that might qualify as a cowboy shirt based on the fact that it was long sleeved, checked, and had too much starch, when I noticed it had a button missing.
I looked down at the missing spot and thought to myself that since it was in the very center, no one might notice. But as I locked the door I decided that it wouldn't hurt to take a look in the mirror and see how stupid it might look, especially since I was supposed to be picking up a girl, and it was going to be like our first date.
And there really was no time to spare, if I was going to be on time.
So I unlock the door and run into the bathroom and look in the mirror...
Dead center. And not only do I look like some kind of huckleberry hobo, every time I inhale you can see my belly!
Not attractive.
My mind is racing. I look in a drawer and its my lucky day! A needle and thread!
And down at the bottom of the shirt there is a spare button. Standing in front of the bathroom sink with a pair of scissors I clip the spare button free.
But damn the luck, the button flies away, hits the mirror, bounces off a bottle of Hai Karate after shave, clatters into the sink, rolls around twice like a ball on a Gamblin' Wheel and disappears in slow motion down the drain.
Now I'm down under the sink, taking the drain apart in order to rescue my fuckin’ button. I have four minutes to sew it on or face the stigma of being late for my first date with a girl I have been infatuated with since the early days of the world . There was not even time to remove my shirt; I would have to do this with my shirt still on.
I bring all my tailoring skills to bear. I jab the needle through the cloth, and sink it a full quarter inch into my thumb. It hurts like hell, but I repeat the process enough times to secure the button to my Cowboy Shirt.
What a man won’t do for love, won’t get done.
It was then that I noticed I had managed to stitch my shirt to my belly. I’ been pricking my thumb so hard, I never felt a thing.
I was on time for my date, but it looked like I'd had a C-Section!

Tuesday, September 14, 2010


"She's laughing at birds
'Cause birds are funny
She's got her daddy
Calling her honey pie

Her smile could stop a train
She could be standin' in the rain
Or sliding down the hill in her kimono gown
But there ain't no doubt, she's got
My attention when she comes to town"

Friday, September 10, 2010


I went for about 10 years without many pictures taken of me. Here are some from my daughters Wedding last month, and some of her as well; you may know her as Water Baby....

I caught the Bouquet. Both of them.

Water Baby and Ex Mrs. Bulletholes

Champagne Toast and Kids Too Young To Get Married

Sobbing. Not as bad as at the Rehearsal, where we had to stop for five minutes while I came completely unstrung.

"Everything is already OK"

Me and Dave, CEO of Gibberish Solutions

The Groomscake, a Croquembouche', assembled by Davy and I.

She is my hearts delight.

Friday, September 03, 2010


"We’ve got ninety-nine per cent the same genes as any other person. We’ve got ninety per cent the same as a chimpanzee. We’ve got thirty percent the same as a lettuce. Does that cheer you up at all? I love about the lettuce. It makes me feel I belong.” — CARYL CHURCHILL