If This Doesn't Work...

I'm gonna be so mad I could eat a cupcake!

My reader still hasn't updated. Delta Mobile is still up as my latest post.

If this one doesn't pop up...well...nothing. I guess I'll just stop worrying about it. I'm sure as hell not monkeying with anything else.

Is That All You Got?!?*

When I was in the 6th grade, I got a bicycle for Christmas...a ten speed bicycle. Yeah that turned out to be a disaster.

It's not because I was uncoordinated. Please. I played golf...played football, arm-wrastled grown men and entered my self into dog fights. I wore a cobra snake for a neck tie...My parents used me for alligator bait and I washed my face in a frying pan...OK?

Let's face it, I was a bad a**! Still am. Deal with it Haters!

But...but, as those of you who know me personally can attest, I was, and have always been, wholly unequipped to deal with any kind of machine or gadget. In this case, a gear box for a ten speed bike.

After a couple of passes through the neighborhood, I figured out that high gears were good for going up hill..it was easier to pedal. Then I discovered that the low gears could be used to gain traction going down hill...meaning I could go faster than gravity.

Can y'all see where I'm going with this?

I came up with a plan to break the Truck Route up-hill land speed record. I'd start on the top of one hill using the low gears to pick up maximum down hill speed. Once I reached the bottom of the bowl I'd shift into high gear and pick up a blinding rpm for the up turn. All very logical...how could it fail?

It failed at about 55 miles an hour, as I flipped the gear switch to first. The failure was almost immediate and it was complete. The pedals, now spinning without resistance, picked up enough speed to bust an atom. My feet were flung off the bike and for a second it vibrated but continued to pick up speed...then there was a wobble and a flash and piercing, head caving, pain.

I don't remember anything between that moment and opening my eyes onto the ceiling of our back deck. I'd been moved there by my mother and the Sister...who was about five at the time. Santy Clause had brought her a plastic doctor's kit for Christmas. Thankfully she was able to fit me into her schedule.




She wasn't nearly as busy back then.

I had ripped the skin on my right knee down to the cap, left a hunk of my shoulder on the asphalt and knocked halfa front tooth out. I still have big nasty scars on my knee and shoulder. For thirty years, up until last week, my broken tooth had been capped. That was before I had the temerity to bite into a soggy spring roll last Wednesday night.

Sexy? Like a mole on a super model maybe?

 So, it's off to the dentist for me where I will get high as Cooter Brown on gas and listen to Roxy Music. They'll give me some hillbilly heroin on the way out the door.

Unless y'all think I should leave it.

Up Next...The Special Needs Relationship: Part Two, Can't Get Back There From Here

*The title actually has nothing to do with this post...it was intended for another. Sue me.

أنا الحمار البعير

I was checking the blog on my phone, touched the wrong part of the screen and now all the command buttons are in arabic. The chances of me being able to switch it back would be slim if the language button was still in English. Under the current circumstance the chances are less than zero.

I'll be on a government watch list by dinner...or another watch list I should say.

I can see it in the file...Dixie Nationalist colluding with Arab terrorist to plan attacks on U.S. government. Really sharp beard.

If you choose to post a comment please use the translator of your choice and post in Aribic.

I'm gonna go hit myself in the face with a shoe now.

Biographical Tid Bit #5

Once again, ,Satan sends his hand-puppet....



I was almost killed Saturday by this while looking for a golf ball.

The fact that I was one more three put from probably offing myself is besides the point.

It wasn't even my golf ball. As usual, always thinking of others...rarely thinking of myself, I was trying to help my partner locate his wayward t-shot.

Being selfless isn't easy...and it's obviously not without risk but, I won't be deterred.


I tried to post a link...to the last time one of the devil's house pets tried to kill me...but obviously, Mrs. Perpetua, I am hopeless.

http://flimsycups.blogspot.com/2010/11/biographical-information-tid-bit-1.html

EDIT


I've been waiting for Nat to chime in but...looks like he may be too chocked up. As a concession I have reprinted one of his all time classic posts. This came in response to pictures of a snake eating a frog....

Nay, not mildly; not a smidgen or a tad, but *HIGHLY* unnecessary - a deviant deviation; a violent violation; an abominable abomination!

Thank you.

That is all.

Let the matter rest here and no more be said of it as all that can be said of it has been said of it and it is now a matter forever closed. Good day to you Sir.

Forsooth man: let it be or be damned!

I SAID GOOD DAY SIR!

Yee Haw! Enter the 80's.

Look what I found yesterday... I'm almost certain I got this as a present for my 7th birthday. That was the only real birthday party I had as a little kid. It's still got a lot of the pieces too. Stuuuupid cops. One of the clearest memories I have from early childhood is seeing a commercial for the premiere of Dukes of Hazzard. There's a couple of reasons it sticks out...one, I was at a friends house. He had a toy spaceship from Battle Star Galactica. It was an early one that shot plastic missiles. Recently a kid had choked to death on one of these missiles and the toy had been taken out of production. This was the horrific discussion, stamped forever into my six year old brain, that our parents were having when the commercial came on. The commercial momentarily wiped that out...and we come to the other reason why this moment sticks out...and replaced it with sever disappointment. I had heard there was going to be a show called Dukes of Hazzard and I had convinced myself that it was going to be a show with Knights and archers like Robin Hood. Crushed. It didn't take long to get over it though and of course, I loved the show. How could you not? I Am Somebody! I found this in the same box...Ha. It had to be from a few years later...but, it's definitely early 80's. This is the flippin elementary education I received. Understand, I don't have a problem with Jesse. He's a con artist...and you can't hate the player. If individuals and corporations allow themselves to get got...that's on them. In full disclosure, I should point out that I have shaken the man's hand. It was in Indianapolis. It was in a hospital where Maze's mother worked and Jesse was going through the halls shaking hands.* "Mahh Frrrriendah"...that's what he said as he reached out to grab my hand. Sweetest of all...I was wearin' an Elvis T-Shirt that had a Confederate Battle Flag as a background. I bought the shirt at a leftwing hangout...a punk rock record shop...obviously a different time. Blueeeeeeee.....Orrrrrrrrrrrrange...Blueeeeee.....Orrrrrrrrrange! Then there was this...my true obsession then as now... If you look closely you can see a Bulldog being swept up in a Blue and Orange tornado. It's hard to explain just how much I hated the Georgia Bulldogs at this time in my life...almost as much as the Seminoles but, the Gators were beating FSU like a drum at this time. Georgia made clowns of 'em every year. Obviously that was long time ago...b****es. The only actual art teacher I ever had was at Sable Palm Elementary. I'm not positive but I think her name was Ms. Robertson. She had red curly hair and glasses. She was always in a checked shirt and faded jeans...and nike tennis shoes. She was cool and even at that age I remember thinking she was young..and she was compared to the other teachers I had. She had a turn table in the class...always the Lovin' Spoonful. I actually learned things in that class...at least I remember things I was told in the class. For instance, did you know that the reason why many portraits from early American history are so goofy lookin is because they were done by house painters trying to stay busy in the winter? I don't know if it's true or not...but, I remember it. She was great and like I said...the only real art teacher I ever had. Anyway... *This was the same week that Mike Tyson was charged with raping a lady in Indianapolis...there was a Black Expo or something going on there that week. I'll fix the pictures later. If anybody knows why the new blogger won't recognize paragraphs that would be helpful too.

Merry Christmas...Cops and Doctors

More idiocy from me with the blogger. I just started writting when somehow I clicked the publish tab.

I'm just gonna write it out in the open...editing and all...piece by piece. You'll have to stay tuned.

I woke up this morning around 4am to giggling..almost belly laughs. I knew it wasn't Martha. She makes a different noise when she's sleeping. It had to be the big man.

"Boy what are you laughin' at?"

Silence.

"Hey man."

Nothing. He was asleep...joker was laughin' in his sleep.

Just I was falling back out when he starts moanin.

"Daddy...my ear hurts get a qtip Daddy."

It seemed like a better idea than wakin his Momma up so, I got some qtips and gently poked around his ear.

"It's not workin Daddy." How could waving a qtip and muttering over an infection not have worked to kill it.

"Imma go to the doctor. Imma tell Dr. Storey."

"You'll get your chance son but, right now the best thing you can do is go back to sleep."

So I laid with him til he got comfortable enough to fall out...and then got up to make some coffee. His Momma was already in the kitchen. I don't know what time it was...dark. Every since the Boy came along our day begins and ends two or three hours earlier than it used to. It's been three years and the fog still hasn't lifted. It's a struggle to get going in the morning and a struggle to stay awake at night.

"The Boy's got an ear ache."

"I heard...I'll call the doctor's office when he gets up."

Having done my part. It was Christmas Eve and time for me to start thinking about Christmas shopping.

I'm strugglin' y'all. I've practically had the office to myself all day and nothin' to do but, I can't get it together. After spending the last three days mocking and laughing at all the sick people in my house...seems it's my turn.

I feel like I have a pine cone wedged under my left eye and against the bridge of my nose...I think I've gone deaf in my left ear. My mouth and throat feel like I've been sucking on a sandpaper lozenge.

Feel sorry for me y'all.

I think I'm just sick of looking at this thing...here's the abbreviated version.

The Boy woke up...Martha called the Dr.

"Come on in."

The Boy was disappointed that Dr. Storey wouldn't be there...maybe he wanted to ask her why he toots so much again.

"She's with her family...it's Christmas Eve. Dr. McSomething will do a good job."

The Sister comes to pick up my Daddy to take him Christmas shopping.

Martha and the Boy leave.

I take a shower and leave. I've barely gotten out of the drive when I get a text from Martha...

"Just an ear infection."

That was good news. Even though he seemed fine there's always a part of me that worries when he goes to the Doctor. I'm the one that was with him when he was running laps in halls and sweet talking nurses for suckers...just before the Dr. diagnosed him with the pneumonia.

Anyway...so that was off my mind. Just as I get the car parked in front of my first stop...the phone rings. It was the security company...

"We have a signal coming from your front door. Do you want us to send the police?"

CRAAAAAAAAAp!

My Daddy had set off the alarm...it gave the warning when he came in but, he can't hear nothing higher pitched than an 808 kick drum.

It was all very funny and involved a lot of back and forth between me and Martha, me and the security company, cops that took so long to show up we were able to cancel the call (we just pay for the services where we live...we don't receive them).

The highlight of that day's shopping was a text from the Sister...

"Medium to Large...she's STACKED!"

Martha and the Boy were too sick for church...so, we rode around looking at Christmas lights.



the end

Ramshackle Operation...Obviously

I thought I was hitting the save button and hit the publish button. Here's a glimpse into the rough draft state of my mind I guess.

Feel free to finish the partial sentences anyway you like...and I'll put them in the body of the post.

I'd actually almost decided against putting this thing up. What a goofball!


There are nine styrofoam coffee cups in the floorboard of my truck and one in each of the three cup holders. That's a day's work and a drive from Pascagoula to Jackson.

I need more cup holders. At least twice a day I get in the car with a cup of coffee only to find the holders full of half drank cups. Flying down the interstate at 80 miles an hour, steering and holding a hot cup of coffee in one hand while trying to pour all that old coffee in to one cup with the other...so I can throw the two empties into the floor board...is harder than it sounds.
I spill a lot of coffee.

Since I left on Tuesday I've eaten at least one meal a day out of a gas station...including supper last night. I spend my life going from one gas station to another. Places I'd passed a hundred times on my way to the Coast or New Orleans have become regular

I spent yesterday riding with someone and I kept setting his car alarm off. A lot of the stops we made didn't require services...but we amused ourselves by masquerading as State Service Inspectors, carrying out spot-checks on restroom cleanliness and bathroom-tissue density. When a particularly alarmed and diligent Assistant Manager offered to eat his lunch off the floor of the restroom to prove its cleanliness, we realised we'd gone too far. After that, we drove along in silence, apart from his car alarm which continued to activate every time I moved my right elbow."

I spent yesterday riding with someone and I kept setting his car alarm off. A lot of the stops we made didn't require services...

Can I get you a coffee?

No, that's really kind of you but I read it's - toxicological speaking - bad for you.

Really? I read that turning down the offer of a coffee on the basis of studies that parade their "scientific" credibility in terms of unrepresentative statical samples, while ignoring the fact that the game of snap does not constitute a law-like relationship between cause and effect, kinda makes you the statistical type who ends up serving coffee, rather than ordering it.

I'll just have water.

Water is not a drink, it's a mixer at best.

ishouldhavegotsometogo

It's funny how the internet works. A woman in Brighton, England..the author of an outstanding blog*...made my supper plans for me on Monday night.**

That afternoon, I was on my way down to the Coast...



I stopped in Magee to have a cup of coffee and kill some time on the blogger. When I got into my account I saw that she had a new post...another installment on her recent trip to California. During this particular leg she had finally gotten to eat something she had only heard about...pulled pork.

Normally when I'm down there I get a pizza from Newk's or a cheeseburger from Five Guys and take it back to the room...watch Law and Order reruns...like clockwork. Not that night. Once the notion of pulled pork had been put into my head the only way I was gonna get it out was to eat some.

Lucky for me I'd be in D'iberville about 10 miles from Vancleave and this place



The Shed.



A ramshackle collection of buildings right off of Exit 57 on I-10 at the gate of a campgrounds...where they smoke hog and the wallpaper's green.



The decor has almost reached the point of parody...almost. It's not a gag but, it's not really a country grocery either. Somebody's playin' a g'itar there most nights but, it's not the next Asie Payton. The place has been on T.V and they have a handful of locations now.

If the food wasn't good it would be a joke but, the food is good...



The pork's got just enough of texture for you to put your teeth on it right before it melts into smokey butter. And that flippin potato salad is lights OUT...like Corkey's without the bacon.

I've had better I reckon...Ubons comes to mind and Full Moon in Hoover, Alabama is my favorite (sadly the Tuscaloosa location was erased during last months Godzilla attack) but it definitely rates.



It's like I'm afraid somebody's gonna try and take it.

Thanks ISBW...the meal was delicious.***

*The Blog is ishouldbeworking...and you should be reading it. I don't know how to do links but it's in my reading list. It's fantastic.

**I should also point out that Adam in Lancaster has..if you add it all up...has cost me about a weeks worth of work hours with his internet obstanence.

***I realize it's a little wacky to unpack things like this...I have analytical issues. Just be glad you aren't in my mind, along for the ride as I'm reading these nonsensical had written signs at restaurants all day....more on this later.

Rotten Egg and Freckles

Me and Martha slipped off this weekend...about 5 miles down the road...to celebrate our 13th anniversary.

Initially we made plans to go down to Natchez but then it looked like it might flood so...we decided to stay somewhere in Jackson. The main thing was to separate Martha from the temptation to do chores..didn't really matter where it was.

We dropped the boy off at The Sister's around 3 on Saturday and we were off...Freedom. We spent the first couple of hours lounging on the couch watching 88 Hours and talking about how we'd still be driving if we'd gone to Natchez.

Had a scrumptious meal that night at Mint. The world doesn't need a cokecola y'all...it needs some Duck Nachos from Mint.


To be continued...I was trying to save it and I hit the wrong *&((*&&* button.

meischair

Idiot Flickr has changed it's sharing function...and this is the result. A random picture on my blog...well, it isn't exactly random. It is from my account and it is another MS Paint Masterpiece.

meischair, a photo by jtemperence on Flickr.

It's probably a better post than the one I was trying to stick it in anyway.