Pohst

Nothing much to say. It has been cold and snowy around here and I'm freaking out. My finger feels like it has a toothache. The highlight of my day was musing upon my turkey avocado on rye sandwich. Damn tasty, it was. Make a fine Jedi lunch, it would have. I've been watching an old French documentary called Blood of the Beasts. Check it out if you like watching a draft horse get dropped by a captive bolt gun, oh, and the slaughter of calves is just the ticket for those needing some extra motivation to eat less meat. My new favorite weapon of niche destruction is now the English Axe. I think might be on youtube.

That is all for now. Stay tuned for more updates.

Fries without a face

I like taking titles from classic movies and screwing with them.

Clyde might get a new paint job this summer. I'm seeing if it is in the budget and how much of the work I want to take on myself.

An ATV ate my right index finger this weekend.

The bully at work is now afraid to talk to me.

I saw I Love You Man this weekend and parts of it were so true that it was Spinal Tap scary. It makes me wonder what my friend's spouses really think of me.

Tired. Me go to bed now.

Daayo

My mom's surgery was a success. I spent over twelve hours in a place that used to make me throw up. Fun. I got some laughs out of the day, though. My mom forgot to tie the back of her gown and bared her ass at a bunch of people. I started yelling, "Nurse, come help my mother cover up." Another moment of fun came when the head nurse was talking to us and he said, "The surgeon will be in soon to go over the nuts and bolts of everything." I then replied, "Hey, I didn't know that nuts were involved in a hysterectomy." The nurse and his assistant did not laugh. My mom did, however.

On Monday I got into an ugly confrontation with a co-worker in the parking lot. He was supposed to be covering for me last week and basically did nothing. Some people were not aware that I was off doing other things and thought I had stopped doing my job well. I gathered up some facts and told my superiors about what happened. Well, one of my bosses told the guy that I was the one who told him (basically this guy was letting his subordinate push him around and passed the buck to me). Well, this fellow, who is quite a bit bigger than me, comes at me in the parking lot, saying that I am turning everyone against him and that I am trying to get him fired. I felt like he was trying to bully me, well, he was. Anyway, I am a nice guy until you back me into a corner. People's first impression of me is that I wouldn't stand up for myself or face off with someone. Well, they are terribly wrong. I don't like to get mixed up in this kind of shit, but when it does happen, I don't fool around. I held my ground, laid out the facts to this guy, and then told him to step it up or get the hell out. He took a step at me, did this weird, nervous laugh, then got in his car when I wouldn't back down. He called our boss about five minutes later and started talking shit about me, yelling at our boss, and basically trying to bully him into getting his way on this. Today, my boss talked with our head boss about this (I was informed)and our head boss was impressed with my handling of the situation and wrote the douche bag up, effectively insuring that he will not go any further up the promotion chain. It's been a long time coming that someone finally took care of this guy and I didn't even have to lay a finger on him. Bullies aren't used to people standing up for themselves.

If you want to watch an incredibly good, but strange German film, watch Stroszeck. It has a dancing chicken, a blue-darting inmate, an armed robbery that nets a frozen turkey, a musical retard, a whore, a bunch of rednecks, and some pimps. It's not a film for everybody, that's for sure. Fun factoid: This was the last movie that Ian Curtis, of Joy Division, watched on TV just before he hung himself. Very poignant, considering the ending of the film.

I'm McStuffing It

Stuff. That's what you have and what happens. I could go on and on, but George Carlin has already covered all of that before and much better than I ever could. Here's some stuff that's happened.

My truck (you know him as Clyde) has, in recent months, decided that steering against the will of its driver (me) is good sport. This has led me to ponder the reasons why and unload my bank account in buying tools and parts necessary to rebuild the entire front end and steering system of my truck. Why? Because, I am obsessive. And that, folks, is why I am not married yet. The good news is that I rock and my mechanical skills prove this. I also was able to do all of this for under half of what it would have cost me to have someone else do it. The downside is that I am now officially disabled and walk with a hunch. Parts that have been secured under 120 foot lbs. of torque for over thirty years and all sorts of weather do not want to be separated. The solution is to use a bit of the good slippy sauce, a long breaker bar, and a BFH. My will and knuckles were stronger but now pay the price. The final upside is that I pissed off my neighbors and got to pound on a pickle fork really hard.

I've started finishing a lot of my "nerd" projects as well. All of those electronic effects and amplifiers that were laying about the room, providing evidence of the decline of my mental health, well, no more! I am selling off the brand name stuff that I no longer need and have fixed and the homebrew stuff will get put to use.

I will be taking my mother into surgery on Tuesday. She had precancerous polyps growing inside of her uterus. Seeing as how she has had lymphoma and breast cancers before, we are not taking any chances, and I am giving up hope of having a younger brother. She will be getting a full hysterectomy. That is right: we are taking her Def Leppard CD away from her. In all seriousness, it is a relief that the doctors have a way to take care of things before they progressed.

During my many voyages to various auto parts stores, I had some rather frustrating experiences. I went to the local Lobotozone and asked to purchase a certain tool to set the preload for my new ball joints. The dude looked at me like I was the dumb one and said, "I ain't never heard of adjusting no ball joints." The more that I explained in detail the process of proper installation and adjustment of 4x4 ball joints I realized that I had might as well been explaining to him the existence of Bigfoot. The only problem with that is that he would have then told me that Bigfoot was his mother, and I would, by his demeanor, been forced to accept that as fact. I have come to the conclusion that these employees of certain auto parts stores are just "flipping" brake pads and dropping spark plugs into the "fryer".

I think that the name "Roscoe" should make a comeback as a name for boys.

That's all I got tonight.

Post: Not dead. Still breathing. Must eat cheese.

Facebook is a tool of the Devil designed to depress me

First of all, I feel like I can't reciprocate any acts of friendship on Facebook because I quickly tire of being on that site. I would rather just call you or respond to you here.

The other thing: I finally started looking around on Facebook and looking for people from my past. Big mistake. You can think that you are ok with how things have turned out in your life. You can think that you no longer have any animosity, hurt, or feelings for those people from your past. Then, you go ahead and start looking. You see them smiling. You see that they are happy. You see that their life didn't fall apart without you. In fact, they are better off without you. You also see those assholes that didn't give you two thoughts are still vacant, yet, somehow they got it and have a wonderful life. No justice as you thought was needed, or the way you thought it should happen to them. Those that ruled during high school are also doing really well now--not how it happens in the movies. The worst part is that it got to you when you looked them up. You are not as over it as you supposed you were. It makes me feel like like that odd ball misfit all over again. But then again, I am that. That's why you guys come here, right?

Of course, this is all conjecture, but the point is that it still got to me. I still can feel like I'm not included in whatever it is that "they" were in on. That really disappoints me. I think I would have been fine if it weren't for coming across a certain person. That one girl was the lynch pin. I think it is funny how you can have certainty for something that is so completely not going to ever fucking happen that it is not even funny. It has happened to me several times and I can only sit back and laugh at my folly. I am a great person to talk to, to hang out with, and to say is your friend, but somehow there is something about me that ultimately causes people to pass on. It should bother me. It does a little. But I have just come to the conclusion that I am not easily accessible on a certain level. There are not that many in this world that it would end up working out with and I get tired of that fact. There are reasons for me being on this earth. Maybe those reasons take me places that others don't want to go. I have, for the most part, accepted that. It is just that last night I had a huge moment of doubt and reflection. I wished I hadn't even crossed her path.

Of course, this post is just my way of chastising myself for allowing myself to relive past disappointments. We all go there, now and again, and it is never as bad as you make yourself to believe it to be. Going to that "place" brings about an unreliable way of perceiving past events. You project and interpret things incorrectly all to beat yourself up over something that you no longer have anything to do with. Anyway, I welcome all one-liners that refer to me as a "weeping pussy". Thank you for your time.

TIGF!!!

The come-from-behind sneak attack hug. I'm getting real tired of this fellow at work doing that to me.

Any of you getting molested by coworkers?

I'd rather

• Play doctor than play house.
• Eat dirt than eat shit.
• Wear a cape with an ascot than biker shorts.
• Listen to Antonio Vivaldi's Guitar Concerto in D Major, 2nd Movement while watching my lover disrobe than listen to Motley Crue's Girls, Girls, Girls! while watching a stripper dance.
• Be watching a cat fight than two guys humping each other in the octagon.
• Think about women, guitars, and cars than the economy.
• Meet Joe Walsh than President Obama.
  
• Be on stage jamming with Jack White than make it with Meg White; see, 'cause Meg would screw me anyway after she sees how freakin' awesome I am.
• Work on my truck than buy a new one.
• Be a Pepper than a Coke fiend.
• Do a 180 than a 360.
• Freak out like a monkey than soar like an eagle.
• End this post here than continue.

No, but seriously...

If aliens did instruct the ancient Egyptians on how to build the pyramids, how come they don't drop by there more often? I'm thinking summer home.

If you and I were stick figures, dots and dashes would imply various things: emotions like surprise, looking at something in particular, nipples, wieners, poo, pee, and Morse code. Right now I am ---------- at a very pretty lady in another window, which causes me to become a bit ! In fact, \!/ dots and dashes are a bit naughty.

Dot, I'll be back in a dash...I need to take a slash.

I've often wondered what the consequences of my actions will be. I've also wondered what the consequences of my in-actions would be. I've never considered what the future held for my actions until I stopped doing something. I never thought about what would happen if I did nothing while doing something. I have thought about Rambo in both cases.

God did not put me on this earth for your amusement. This is something that I kind of fell into.

Satan once said something similar: God didn't put me in hell to be the Devil....

I guess the point I am trying to make is that my depravity is contingent upon your gravity.

The End.

Too tired to blog

But, I'll give it a shot anyway.

Have you ever replaced the tie-rods on a truck that is over thirty years old? Well, I did today and my arms are dead. Everything was rust welded together and it took everything I had, including inventing new and improved swear words, to get the old parts off. The funny thing is that taking off the old parts took forever and putting on the new parts took twenty minutes. If I were to be a mechanic for a living it would have to pay at least a six-figure salary for it to be worth my pain and suffering.

My brother bought this DVD collection of old driver's Ed videos--the really gross, violent ones. It's been a hoot watching them. I've got to hand it to the Ohio Highway Patrol, circa 1958; they make great gore flicks. It was interesting to see how little damage some of those big old cars would receive, yet the passengers would get totally mutilated by having nothing absorb the energy from the crash, as well as no seat belts. There was one scene where they were pulling this dude from a roll over and his lower half was gone. Yum!

I've been thinking about what kind of super power I'd like to have lately. I'm really thinking that being able to control odors would be awesome. I was working on a roof today and happened to stand right over a restroom ventilation exhaust. It was like mixing the smell of a witch's crotch and a homeless pirate covered in bile. I got pretty sick after that and dry heaved for a bit. Some smells are so bad in this world that I'd rather spend a day living in a dead elephant than smell those smells. The worst smells that I've encountered were houses of people that I came across in England. One house had fourteen dogs and crap was everywhere. The people living in the house didn't bathe and there was rotting food just laying about. The other worst smell was an apartment of a schizophrenic guy who kept all his urine, sperm, and feces in open buckets laying about. His name was Leo and he wrote me poetry. The last worst smell was that of an old man whose leg was gangrenous and his shin bone was visible. There were all sorts of vermin running about his place and I picked up a tray of "green", which used to be some kind of food at one time. To put all of this in perspective, I used to work as a garbage man at one time.

Ok, I'm done.

Things that used to be funny (a new theme).

Steve Martin. What in the hell? I think the last funny thing he did was Bowfinger and that was just one thimble full of wet in a Sahara-sized dry spell of comedy. He used to be my comedy hero. His stand up routines were absolute genius. Now, I think the best thing that he has going for him is his banjo playing, and I don't mean that as a cut. I'm thinking that it is time for him to move on and to stop embarrassing himself and making Peter Sellers spin in his grave. But, Steve, if you are reading this, I think that a good way to revive your comedy career would be to change Leslie Nielsen's diapers on live TV, thus, killing two birds with one stone.

The truth

Your heart either swells with joy or shrinks with pain. Your body either weakens or is carried by its virtue. Your mind is always enlightened no matter how hard the truth may be.

My heart is in pain. My body is weak. My mind expands now a bit further and I understand the nature of unconditional Love's duress on the one who takes upon him another's cross a bit more.

How can it be? It is the truth that hides behind self imposed blinds that hurts the most when revealed or discovered. Love allows you to express your disappointment and hurt without imposing further debt. This is the hardest exercise, yet the simplest path towards the fullness of joy. Our lusts dare reach such heights on wax wings. Withdraw not your hand when your pride fails you. Be there for those that you love, because, it may be you having to tell the hard truth about your imperfect self sometime.