Sunday, August 2, 2009

Let the Dead, bury the Dead.

Let's see now,
how 'bout a couple of photographs
to bring some of the readers' blood
to a slow rollin' boil.
To Witt:

Won'ts ya quit makin' up stories...

Hi, Big Guy, you gotta a Cigar I can light up?

Well, ya know, we eat in Alaska, sos we hunt. You got Moose?

Ok, ok, enough of that. Here is the post. Getting rid of stuff you have not used in years. YEARS not months like 18 months, or like 22 months more like 22 years!! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. It's like I can't even get in this room and today's the fucking 2nd of August, 2009. Back in the day, on the Second of August (1992), Florida learned why the fuck we have St. Andrew's cross on our flag. MutherFucker, get the fuck out of Miami and If, IF, your ass lives in Homestead, run mutherfucker, run!!! If you pass Go, don't stop to pickup $200, run, be afraid, be very afraid! 'Andrew, ANDREW, you fucking named me A.N.D.R.E.W???!!! I am a GodDamned Hurricane! and you name me after a GUY, mutherfucker!! A drag queen Hurricane? Yeah Buddy, Here Hold my BEer and Watch This. mutherfuckas. (but i digress)

Here we are in August 2009, dog days, I got up this morning fooled 'round on the blogosphere, cooked a little breakfast, (ate it) took a nap, thought about mowin' the yard, fooled 'round on the blogosphear, thought about mowin' the yard, started to clean a room, felt inspired. Fooled 'round on the blogosphere, thought about mowin' the yard, went back to cleaning up the room, did a load of laundry, fooled around on the blogosphear, read 'bout how catshit can really screw up the laundry, felt good about a clothes dryer in my work room, thought about mowin' the yard, went back to cleaning up the room, EUREKA! i CAN throw stuff away! Damn, why did that take soooo long. Let's begin by shredding the bank statements from 2000, jump back. That was when the world was going to stop dead in it's track 'cause Bill What'sit married to Hillary whosit sold out dated computers to the chinamen. World is gonna stop! the Sky is Fallin' the sKy is fAllin' Mr. Little, hit's agonna fall.

I had a conversation with my Mentor, a man I have immense respect, admiration and love for, about Y2K. We all had them, I said this to him, don't know if he remembers it, went something like this:

On January 1, 2000

The wind's agonna blow,

The rain's agonna fall

and the day's agonna come

the day's agonna go

just like them all.

So here i am 9 (nine) fuckin' years later and no one, nobody calls me the fuckin' prophet i am. Where's the glory, they made money on nothing, yeah money for nothing, yeah punish the monkey, let the organ grinder go. So here i am shredding checks and feeling good. I found a suit i have not worn in 10:

a) days?

b) months?


that can go. Oh and this torn shirt, no i can use that for rags, ok here is one that sucks, I never did like it when she gave it to me and lets see now, it's been 8:



c) years?

ago we stopped talkin'. And this travel bag, yeah buddy lotta good memories in that piece of luggage, let's see now, went to DC, the Carolina's, Michigan, Tennessee, Georgia, Los Angles, had that bag a while. (Hey wake the fuck up!!) you have not used that bag in the past 25: (you know the drill)


b)months? or


Damnation boy,! the bitches are GONE! And, and maybe the smelly ol' bag might be one of the reasons. Yeah, let's give it, and the energy, to the GOODWILL, what a hoot. Some guy might buy it and score big. Back in the day, it was OK.


  1. How much you want for it?

    I will be back for the answer...and further commentary regards this sad, but happy tale.

  2. Hummmmm. Methinks you gotta thing for this Palin woman.

  3. Give it and the energy it holds away. Create new memories.

  4. You're sorting through your shit to give it away or whatever and I am just trying to remember where my shit is and if I want to find it.

    Naaaaawwww when I married the old lady I told her I understand better than most rule #47. You know the one that say's "what's yours is yours and whats mine is yours."

    It's all her shit let her throw it away.

  5. Must get in the way, boobs like that.

  6. I really like yer style Mr. P........I think yer gonna be a keeper. And yer a-fuckin'-straight-on-the-money about this miserable house I live IS a damn wonder the thing ain't blown up yet! (or burnt down, or been swept up in a tornado, yadda yadda yadda).

  7. Jadedj...too late already took it to the goodwill. gave them a crape pan also. Walked inside and saw one just like it, I mean just like it for $4. Anytime i need one i can get it and know what to do with it after i'm finished. Got a great set of coasters for the coffee table that is covered with books. A Wendy's burger all the way. No Kiddin'. Oh it's plastic.
    Mr. C....Yes I do, but not like you mean.
    PeachT...Yes, indeed, create new memories. Memory is a whole other post.
    WalkingM...Yeah rule #47 that is the one most guys don't pay attention to until it is too late.
    James...yes they must, but i would have to have them for a day.
    MeanDonnaJ...thanks for the kind words. If anyone has not been to her blog, well go, you won't soon forget it. I don't think she is all that mean, but i would not push it.

  8. Years bro, years. That's the sad tale.
    Goodwill, Wendy's rid of old luggage, and a new piss pan. That's the happy tale.

    I should also point out, tale ain't all it's cracked up to be brother. Nor is tail.

  9. There you go. Off to Goodwill with a bunch of your old shit and buy more shit while you're there. That, in a nutshell, is free enterprise.


Gems of thought


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email, love being alive, the alterntiative has lousy hours, liberal and don't care if you give me cracked corn.