Day in the desert

We did make it to Anza Borrego today. Still a bit of a drive, but not as bad as when we lived in East County. From here, it's just a skip to Palomar Mtn., and then it's pretty much all downhill for the next 54 miles. I realized as we climbed in elevation that my chest hurt a bit more than usual, and of course, I have been hanging back on the painkillers to avoid yet another addiction. I wish I had brought some vicodin on this trip, or stored up ahead of time. At least the pain is in the right side of my chest, where a lung used to reside, and not on the left side, cause' that would be bad. It got better once we dropped back down to sea level, but then we stomped around quite a bit, so I was sitll out of breath. There were a number of bicyclists going up and down the roads out there, a thing which amazes me to this day. Hard enough struggling up the Montezuma grade on a narrow two lane without the cyclists suprising you along the way.  We stopped at a view point for a bit to have a cigarette, and one of the cyclists stoped also to take a breather. He has one of those water bottles on his bike, which must have been about 80 degrees, so I stepped out and offered him some of my water, which is in an aluminum bottle and I had put in the freezer before we left. It was still quite chilled. He was very freindly and talkative, but turned me down on the water. I guess I can understand. Never take candy from stangers, and all. Still he was making good time. We would stop to take pictures, and then catch up with him, and then repeat the process.

I will upload the pictures if I remember how to do it, and you can see what where we were. Not all the pictures are worthy of merit, but I don't know, or have not yet figured out how to edit. Some of them will be boring, but I do try.

We got home in time to feed the kids. Bubba was frantic. Since we have fewer babies now, they all get more food from the cans, but he must have a tape worm or something. The more food you give him, the more he demands. He doesn't put on a ponch or beer belly or something, unlike his dad, he just gets more large. He is, to the best of my ability to judge, about six now. He's still growing. Honest. I shit you not. I think he takes after me; I didn't get my real growth spurt until I was quite an adult and my height started to match my weight. Of course, I had the advantage of it being the 80's when all forms of speed and cocaine were pretty much available at any 7-11. I had some sexual energy then also. Another casualty in the form of life as I know it. Then again, it could have been the booze and cocaine. Funny that. The stuff that makes it very difficult for you to perform is the stuff that makes you think you're hot shit.

Don't know how I went off on that tangent. I just wanted to mention that we made it to the desert, took pictures, and I survived the experience. There were no crowds there. It really must be off season. Weather splendid, but no blooming plants or such, so no one comes out to see. Very peaceful. Nice sun, little or no wind, and standing water from the last flooding which made things green.

My best from the ether and love to all.

New Records

Managed to somehow leave the house every day for the past week. Still didn't make the awards cut though, but then again, since I'm on a roll, I'm going to see if I can keep it up. Ironically, since I never go anywhere, we listed the van as a non-op when it came time to register it last month. Now I'm in the mother every day, and will probably get pulled over if I try to go too far. This would be bad news. No license, no insurance, etc. I figure the registration issue would be the least of my problems. Some vodka in my bloodstream would be another downside. Then again, I'd hardly notice if they took away my license now, would I? The fine would be a pain, but I'd probably do time served instead. That way the county can pay for my next hospitalization.  Just kidding. I don't go far in the van and the city of San Marcos does not have a police department, just a Sheriff's presense, and they could give a happy shit about minor traffic issues. I've seen a number of vehicles on San Marcos Blvd. which haven't been registered since Reagan was in office.

When I worked in La Mesa a thousand years ago, I found a fast friend and eventually moved into the apartment next door to her. Imagine my surprize when she sent me a message on Facebook this morning. It is funny because I had been thinking about that time in my life just this week and reminicing about old times, and all the embarrassing things I was wont to do, and her and her roomate and the hysterical giggle fits we would get into on occasion. You know the ones. Where you stop laughing for about three seconds before it starts all over again? I'm kind of amazed she found me after all these years, but it was so good to hear from her. I'm hoping she was able to stay in the fast lane even as I was carreening towards the off-ramp.

Rather than waste a weekend day doing the grocery shopping and such, I did it all yesterday, so I have hopes that we can go out to Borrego Desert tomorrow while the weather is just about ideal. I probably won't be able to hike too much, but there is plenty to see right by the roads and picture opportunites abound. Ter is mentioning perhaps going back to to the shore for some more sunset shots when she gets back this afternoon. I think I'm up for it, but then again, after spending a day helping her sister-in-law and best friend pack up for her move to Oregon all day, she may be the one who crashes first. I'm going to be sorry to see Becky go. It is a good move for her, but it will limit Ter's contact with the outside world to the people she can barely tolerate at work. Neither of us is very skilled at making friends, and since I rarely leave the house to go any distance, the old friends I do have I haven't seen in at least a decade or more. I am still stunned, that after joining Facebook, almost all my contacts are people I knew in Boise back in the 70's. I have more contact with them than I do people who live right here in the County. Maybe it was just a simpler time. I was never really outgoing, but I wasn't actively afraid of people like I am now. Of course, it may also have been that I have one of the few heated pools in Boise at the time, and that is always a draw.

Enough skulking about the past, I should try and get busy in case we do go out later.

My best from the ether.

Triathlon update

Well, drove the van and got air in the tires, but since I did not get any petrol, I went to impress the judges by crushing all the aluminium cans in the house and placing them with the others in the recycle container (a large trash can we keep in the car port, you know, the one's with the wheels), and then, did my laundry. I am hoping this will put me over the top on the varied skills section of the competion, but the judges are still in deliberation as to whether these activities apply. I am going to do the absolutely unprecedented (at least for me) thing and let it leak to the judges that I am going to leave the house for a fourth consecutive day in a row to go to the recycling center tomorrow. This is like a figure skater who towards the end of the performance, throws in a triple-triple combination that wasn't in the program.

Just to be on the safe side, I trimmed my beard and shaved my neck so I would look spiffy at the awards ceremony. Yes, I am on a roll. On the down-side, if this keeps up, I will undoubtedly miss the ceremony as I will be back in the hospital by the end of the week.

I haven't watched the news yet, so I have no clever or diadactic political comments or humor to make for the day, except to say that there is already enough idiocy from yesterday that I could go on a rant for hours. Did you see the senator who said if we just stopped providing food and welfare for poor people, they would eventually go away? Worse, when confronted with this, his clarification was even worse. These bozo's actually get elected. It boggles the mind. Then there's the new senator from Mass., who, in his accepatence speech, mentioned that his two beautiful daughters were available. I bet E-Bay had a whole lot of interest in that one. I know what he (probably, but you never know) meant, but again, these are lawyers delivering a speech which was pre-written, and this was the best language they could come up with? Jesus tap-dancing Christ; my average grocery list reads better than that.

Maybe late this evening/early morning, a time in which I do most of my posting, I will have something new to say in regard to what newly offends me for today. Watch this space.

Out of breath from the ether.

New Triathlon training

In training for the triathlon. Went to Cardiff State Beach yesterday to take some pictures and enjoy the view. Then to Costco for the bulk purchases, to complete the crowd/frustration/non-child killing portion of the competition. The beach was beautiful, and as always, pristine and untouched by man. After unloading said bulk fungibles, I had a nice sit down to prepare for the next day's competition, the Albertson's challenge. This required a great deal of very healthy orange juice. Over ice and just a bit diluted. Vodka keeps the pulp from being too thick.

Today, I sucessfully completed the Alberston's challenge. Being a canny competitor, I chose my time wisely. Having had so much time to train, and a flexible schedule, unlike many of the other people in the event, I was able to hit my objective, fill a cart, and still find an empty check-out lane. I believe this was a new personal best. After unpacking, I again sat down to enjoy a healthy fruit drink. This time o.j. mixed with cranberry juice (with assistance, of course). This is much better than you might think and cranberry juice is good for your liver. There's irony. Tomorrow I hope to conclude this gruelling event by getting gas in the van and/or air in the tires. An event calling for stamina and a multiple skill set (and quarters). Remember when it didn't cost money to fill your tires? What's up with that anyway? Under California Codes if you purchase fuel, the air should be free. Apparently they don't want you to know this. Perhaps someone should remind Arnold of this scam and he can get all of the quarters back to help the State deficeit.

I will let you know if I am successful in my event, and the overall time and my ranking if I complete it tomorrow. Going out of the house one day is an event. two in a row, a minor miracle, three is ripe for cannonization. So if you're a betting person, don't gamble your money yet. I may yet be taken out by Edna, the local Real Estate Agent here. They're canny and capable opponents, and have the advantage of not being afraid of human contact. Vegas has pretty good odds on her right now, but I have been out of the game for quite awhile, and they haven't yet tested my mettle.

My best to all from the ether.

Slow, but sunny Saturday

As you can see, even Bubba is not impressed with me. I seem to be the condom of all best well laid plans. Nothing seems to come to fruit. Ter and I had planned on going to Costco today, and since it is half-way there, maybe the shore to take a few pictures. Just haven't been able to get moving today, much less take a shower and dress, and it is 2:00 p.m., I am thinking maybe tomorrow I will find my knees to get my feet under me. I seriously doubt that being less than well physically and depression is easily treated by the use of amphetamines of any type, but I would welcome the chance to try. I doubt my doctor would go along with this, though.

Caught a rare shot of the Tsarina on her throne. I present her Imperial Majesty, Tsarina of all she surveys, Tatiana Alexandra Romanov.  In between necessary public appearances, speaking engagements and the affairs of state, severe catnip shortages, a peasant revolt (see how happy Bubba is, above), and other such matters as food and nap. I don't know she keeps her schedule, and still climb the posts of the political intrigue and in-fighting which is abundant in her new reign. I believe her first proclamation, settling once and for all the stuffed mouse situation, is a bold and positive indication of her abilities, and should calm down the nay-sayers who claim she came to the throne by suspicious means, and was actually not a Romanov, but was in fact, born in Kenya. Were it not for the fact that she has a personal witness that the passing of her sister was by natural cases, I believe that would come up also. But who can stop a rumored meow from being taken up by the masses as fact?

I replaced the opening picture on my blog for a more recent example of what I actually look like now. I don't have any recent pictures of me, but subtract about 40 lbs from this picture, and there I am. Apparently, even under the Freedom of Information Act, it still takes about six months to get your mug shots released to you, and those are the most recent I have. Good part is though, you also get a profile shot along with the head shot. How lucky is that? They never let you order reprints; however, although it will actually prove how tall you are in flats. maybe I can score some survelliance video from somewhere.

Finally got to watch to Golden Globes last night on a repeat broadcast. A pleasant boon, as I missed it the first time, and it and other award shows are one of my guilty pleasures, along with certain night time dramas. I am hoping I will be good to go for the Awards this evening. This is called living vicariously and goes along with my desire to retreat into my rich fantasy life (did I stress the rich part). I also like figure skating, a beautiful sport where no one is gay (really, they'll tell you so).

My best to all from the ether, which is the bathrobe of my life.

A new discovery

After the princess left us late yesterday, and the obvious fun of looking forward to going out in the rain and rush-hour traffic to make arrangments for her to join the large family in containers on the shelf, I had a couple of hours to kill before Ter got home. I did what I generally do, and put on sad songs from Joni Mitchell, or whoever, or something torch, and sang along, having a bit of a tear-fest. People react differently to these things, this is how I do it. Find songs that are more sad than you are and sing along with them. I haven't done this in quite a long time. With the stormy weather, and all the doors and windows closed--great opportunity to do so and not annoy the neighbors. Guess what? I have never have been classified as good, but a pleasing high tenor who could sing with feeling and passion. This kind of takes the 3:10 to New Mexico when you've lost the use of a lung. Who knew? I guess I'll keep to this therapy in the same way I do when I listen to music all night with the ear-buds and you don't want to disturb the house. Just sub-vocalize softly and pretend to yourself that you're really belting it out.

I find myself with Black asleep next to me all the time, and can't avoid the impulse to check her every five minutes to see if she is breathing. Silly, really, she is already pushing 200 in our years and will probably outlive me. Haven't seen much of the new Tsarina since I fed her in her chambers (Ter's bed) this morning, but I imagine she is caught up in affairs of state. The politic effects of not keeping the stuffed toys in order and the rationing of catnip must be a grueling task. Then there's the task of grooming and napping. It just never ends. I know for a fact that when she slumbers she dreams of catching the double eagles. Well, it's on her head now.

No real rant today. Just me in the ether. I did the only sensible thing last night when we got home from making the arrangements and drank, having a nice bit of a lay down by around 8:00 or so. Sadly, I am now in very short supply and will have to wait another five hours or so to replenish. This is what we call a 'Whoopsie." I was kind of surprized that Ter made it up this morning. Loss is a legitimate reason to be a bit late, and I doubt she slept no better than I. Once I lost my buzz, I was back in the running, and on the computer until Bubba (He who cannot be denied), was on my keyboard so much that he was actually typing "Hamlet". I make no joke here, forget the chimpanzees you read about in the old adage. A hungry cat will cut the time down. In all fairness, he made a revision in the second act which was brilliant.

My love to all.

Unpleasant update

Since my last writing, We have a new Tsarina now. Tatiana is the last of our Romanov's, and her rule is now undisputed. Anastasia passed very peacefully, and beside me on the couch. Time now to wait for Ter to get home, so we can go and handle the details of the cremation in perfectly wretched weather. She can then join the cabinet full of the rest of our family over the years, which is getting as crowded as Forest Lawn.

To my beloved daughter: You went with grace and dignity. May I be able to do the same when I join you.

I don't have a joke with which to close.

A moment's respite

Since I posted about nine hours ago, for the first time, there has been a break in the rain. We now have lovely and attractive wading pools where we used to have outdoor plants and walkways. I have not yet had the courage to go outside and check for other interesting features. The winds have been so fierce that we had a tornado warning yesterday. With all of the very tall palms around here, and the other outdoor plants, debris can be a real traffic hazard. On another note, I think one of our very tasteful and upscale Pink Plastic Flamingos is on it's way to Oz. Who knows what type of damage one of those could do to a Munchkin.

Really, this whole storm thing, after what, four days now, is really starting to work my nerves. Yes, we need the rain, but I discussed a very sensible plan to make a livable schedule earlier, and it has not taken effect. I believe Sen. Lieberman threatened a veto, and then Sen. Reid said that the storm clouds got there because they were a light tone of color. Looks like another chance to make a difference is caught up in partisan politics. Now I am going to have to go out and tilt 100 lb. potted plants to drain them, and probably have to use the wet/dry shop vac in the laundry room which has flooded consistently in the past. This from a man who can barely move an ill cat from room to room and clean a litterbox. I blame Obama and the liberal media. Oh, and some queers too.

It is very clear that either I should never run for public office; or that I should. I'm suspecting the former will hold, as while I can be outspoken and have definite goals in mind, am erudite and well spoken, worked in the field of law for nearly thirty years, I would never live out the term. Wait a minute, I could become Governor of Alaska, that seems to be a temp job. With professional groomers, a $180,000 wardrobe, I could be photogenic. I even have sick kids. Not only that, I can see Mexico from my house. Great street cred from my international experience. Well, truth be told, I've also been in jail in Ensenada overnight, but then again, what more could show I have a good grasp of their legal system? Come to think of it, I AM qualified to be a candidate.

Anastasia finally ate her food, and came out into the living room with me. Slippery slope and she's got wax on the rails of her sled, if you catch my drift, but she does not seem to be in any pain. First sign of that and I will take care of it; as I hope someone would have the courtesy to do for me.

Yours from the ether. If I have the strength to bitch and moan, you know I am pulling back from the abyss for a time.

Thinking about Sandbags

Well another beautiful morning. Got the kids fed, made lunch, started coffee and such, and now I await the beautiful dawn. The rain up here was kind of drizzly most of the afternoon yesterday, but decided to become biblical just as Ter was coming home. Poor thing, she got it at work and then comes home to pounding hail and Noahesque deluge. The water was almost ankle deep on the walkway, and when she managed to get in the door, she had to stand in the tiled entryway to peel off her clothes. She honestly looked like a cat you'd just given a flea dip. It probably doesn't help that we are at the bottom of a hill at lake level. Let's see: Where would water go? A rhetorical question at best. I'm thinking all the people in this area should change their prayer circle mantras to include something like: Look, I know we need the water Lord, but let's do some scheduling here. A pleasant shower every Thursday afternoon while everyone is at work and the kids are in school, and then we call it a week. Then again, with my faith in prayer circles, maybe we'd all be better off texting Al Gore. If our pleas our not answered, we can always blame it on Obama and the liberal media.

Speaking of that. If people who are serving and elected say they want change, why is everybody doing their level best to block significant change? This concept eludes me to the point of distraction. Did anyone catch Pat Robertson (yes he's still around) on a talk show saying that the people of Haiti had made a pact with Satan and now he is taking his due? I know why it is called the 700 Club. It's the news from 700 B.C. Really, it seems that every one of these clowns manages to find a way to blame any natural disaster on not being a member of their own flock (and paying their dues), or on homosexuality or licentiousness. Honestly, you could not get away with this hypocrisy with any sensible five year old, but people reared as trained sheep to believe that fear is the only method of persuasion seem to fall for it every time. And then blame Obama and the liberal media (which they, of course, have never seen). There is an old saying, "Live by the sword, die by the sword." Well. Live by Fox News and meet the same fate.

O.K. that's my daily rant. Sorry. Some things just stick in my gut like a stomach punch.

Anastasia had no interest in her baby food this morning, but the other kids did so I am holding it out for her later. It might be more pleasing at room temperature instead of coming straight from the fridge. Bubba was a real pill this morning. I now know that he made a pact with Satan and is extracting his due. Come to think of it, Sempra Energy and AT&T made similar pacts. Heck. This is fun and easy. Take anything you don't like and blame it on Satan, lack of faith, Homo's, and Obama and the liberal media. A style of life that is so simple and easy. Don't see something you don't like and try and change it or adapt to it; just point fingers at who's to blame for it. Sorry, I said my rant was over, apparently it snuck in the backdoor while I wasn't paying attention. And if it snuck into my "backdoor", you know I am part of the problem.

Yours from the ether.

Success

Mission Accomplished. He stands, he showers. He dresses himself. I am, however; fully dressed now, as my bathrobes have not been washed since the Bush administration, and why eat food off of unwashed plates? I will try to continue to improve myself, but it often like trying to beat a unicorn to death with a bag of rainbows.

Anastasia is still with us. All the kids go crazy when I try and feed her baby food, and they are eating the canned shit they are always getting. She is getting in and out of her favorite spots to hide in her own (everytime I turn my back), but although she shows an alacrity which I do not always have, I do not meow my intentions when I move: I just make a large whomp when I fall.

Caught up with all the Wanda Sykes Show episodes I've missed. This is a great show. catch it on Hulu. I promise you will laugh outloud, even when (as in my own case) it hurts to do so. found a few new shows which are worth of merit also. Never caught "Mercy," or "Human Target," but they are both worthy of consideration.

My best from the ether. I have not had the energy to pursue any more dangerous liasons here, but that could change. Watch out ether, I may be stronger than you would think. If not, I will join you all who have gone before me, and then, really watch out.

Hello again

After I guess, what now, five days? I am now trying to do a very human thing, which is the basic need to communicate in some fashion. I haven't been in the best of shape, physically or mentally for awhile. Sadly, Anastasia, one of our Romanov princesses, is failing faster than I. She really can not move and must be carried to where one of us is so that we will know of her passing. I tried to figure out how old she was this morning, and the best guess I have is 15 or 16. A good rule of thumb here, where you take in a new member of the family, mark it on the calendar, or put it on your PDA or something. Meanwhile, the oldest cat in known space, my Black, is still moving on and just as loud and demanding as ever. Her brother lasted a long time, but she is like the energizer bunny and just keeps going. Bubba is one of the largest domestic short hairs in known space, and he is the same as always. With the cooler weather of late, and the fact that I lay down quite a bit, he will seek out the warmest spot in the house, which, unfortunately, is in the area of my crotch. This could be a charming and endearing thing for a kitten to do; it is quite uncomfortable in the male-bits when it is huge and very heavy puma. Tatiana, our other princess, of whom I have absolutely no way of gaugeing her age as we got her from a co-worker of Ter's when she was already fully grown, is pretty much thriving, and loves nothing more than to wait for me to recline so she can rub whiskers with me. Another endearing trait, but one which can be distracting while you are trying to watch TV or a video. I could shave off my beard, I suppose, but then she probably would not recognize me as part of her pride. Not to mention the fact that I have those scars under my chin from and unfortunate incident many, many years ago. More relevant is that I have never gotten used to the ritual of shaving every morning.

Took a short brake there; Anastasia's baby food was up to room temperature so I had to place it under her head. Now the trick is to keep Bubba from getting it. He is a major poacher and will steal the food from all and asunder.

Had a, for me, busy day yesterday. Got all the trash out, unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher, tidyied up the kitchen a bit, and cleaned and replaced the litter with new for the kid's toilets (although, admittedly I had some help with that one). May not sound like much to you, but when the simple act of crossing a room to go the kitchen or bathroom is a kind of "iffy" undertaking, it is the equivalent of running a marathon. Today my goal is to remain standing long enough to take a shower.

I have also developed a new skill. Throwing away uneaten food. Since I can no longer eat the leftovers anymore, there really is no reason to try and keep it contained the the refrigerator. My tupperware is in mourning already. They think they may be next. It is very hard for a white trash person like myself to just casually throw away food. When you have had times in your life never knowing if you would have enough, it just goes against the grain.

Talked with my friend Alan yesterday a few times. He is in happy depression about the new semester, which should be starting today. I can not believe all the hoops and hurdles SDSU makes it's own staff go through. It's one thing to subdjugate the students, but staff? If I was applying for a job and told that there is plenty of parking within at least a half-mile of campus, and, oh, by the way, here's what it will cost you. And you'll have to stand in line with thousands of others trying to get a parking permit while you bring out your checkbook, no privileges for anyone, I believe I would revolt in a violent demonstration. There are other things, but this one just kills me. Can you imagine a hospital which does not provide parking for their surgeons? I've worked for some shitty employers in my day, but this just grinds my gears.

Yours from the ether.

5:00-ish here.

I haven't made it to my bedroom, the reading facility, in about four days now. Fortunately for the kids, this is pretty good news. Accessible dad on the couch at all times! Whoppie. A source of warmth and comfort which is easily right there. Draw-back on this, which I experienced this morning, is that I do not have an alarm clock. I closed my eyes around 3:40 and then, Ter was up and ready for morning ablutions, and I was sadly still on the couch. I was not watching porn on the net; I have serious reason to belive that all of that is sheer fiction (I have a mirror). I did move to feed the kids and all, and even make another shitty sandwhich for her to take to work, but it was, again, not the best I should probably do. The best I should probably do is something which went out with the the 60's. Remember when we had goals? Desires? Just a reason to keep pushing through a day? Has it been forty years? Fifty? Somehow the damaged goods that is me seems to live on.

The three way went fine. Mr. Flynn and I had to cross swords a bit, but the outcome was a success. If there is an actual award for randiest men of all time (and I mean that in a nice way), he is a winner. I don't know where I am going now. There are so many here. Theda Barra, Clara Bow? Mr. Gable would probably be a challenge, but from what I have read, he was. My best to you all from the ether.

Bitch and Moan

I am so very pleased that the International Community has responded to the quake. Our own country also. Funny thing though, where was this easily reachable public outcry and sympathy when an also, "Act of God" struck here? Hurricanes and earthquakes are much the same in this category. Don't get me wrong, I am very pleased that relief is going out to this place. Rachel Maddow has been covering this in depth, and I can Trust her. How many people can you really trust? Rachel is one. I did say "bitch and moan," in the title here. It took what, five days to get potable water to St. Louis? All I've been seeing in the news is the 37,000men, planes and such which are being deployed here. Ex-F**king-scuse me. Most networks have shown haunting scenes of this tragedy. Using corpses to block the streets will stick with me forever. I know it's bad, you can see that. Yet when it is an interior matter, I mean within the states here, the text messages raising monies do not seem to happen. I'm going to hell again here...I just don't seem to understand.

Don. Soap box. Don, get off of soap box. I promise, No, I'll try to promise, to be better.

Got a three way set up this eveing. Women do not seem to mind the attention of two solid suitors. Go figure. Mr. Flynn is up for this, and I live to please. Being dead sometimes is easier than being alive.

My best from the ether.

You may not want this one, either.

I just spent the last three hours watching porn on the internet. This is not to say that I found hardness or a reason for relief. Not so. No hard whatsoever, but it does bring to mind my original point that men are simply better are at this than women. I did find a site that showed...Never mind (but there were morman boys, a barn, hay, and some cows). I swear, I do not make this shit up. I have an active and lively imagination, but some things are even a surprise to me. I had to stop this unreality-trip; Bubba seriously can not be denied. I got everybody fed and coffee made. But it is getting closer and closer to a "room service" only deal now as the Children decline. When your ferocious little carnavores, say "Meat/Fish, yes, I'm over here where you can place my bowl," you know the battle lines have been sharply drawn. They are my kids, and my love is easy, but they can stretch a wounded soul to the end at times. I'm right on the road to hell again; I swear it is not my intention, it just seems to be the story.

I have my legs back. A real boon when things are required of you. No clapping of hands here, it's just me at the moment, and I am seriously subject to change.

It now seems that Errol and Monroe are both looking after my ass. One want's in, and the other needs a hard ride. I mentioned the going to hell part, Didn't I? My love from the ether.

Warning...Do not open this post

I fell down again last night. That, in itself is not unsual enough for comment. What actually makes it interesting is that I could not get up again. Really. I spent most of the early morning on a hard-wood floor. Nothing below the fun-bits could or would respond to my call. Fortunately, I still had use of my arms and upper torso, which allowed me to drag throw pillows onto the floor as a cushion for my head. I did try and pull myself on the couch, but the effect was like a beaching whale. I could get my still usefull and powerful torso on the sofa, but the lower half was still aflounder as the tide's rise. I just decided to remain where gravity intended me to be for a while. Not my best performance for an evening, especially when you have company. As an aside, my butt hurts from residing on a hard floor. Further, try getting up to go to the bathroom when you have no control over your legs. I dare you. I will not even share with you how I worked that one out.


As luck would have it, 4:00 am came around, and with it, cats wanting to be fed. I found my knees, and then the sofa, and then came to the conclusion that if I could do that, I could also make coffee, a poor sandwhich for the wife and bread-winner of this household, and see to my cat's desires. I make no promises here...I am pretty certain I will go down again. It is in my nature. I just rather sincerely hope I will bounce back a bit quicker.

I didn't get to the scary parts here, as I had originally intended.

Yours from the ether. I've been spotted with Errol and now Monroe is interested. She and Jayne should share notes. It's not as big up close. I know I am going to hell...Might be the one goal I acheive.

Trash day

A little bit before 6:00ish here. I am committed to the task of taking the trash out. It may not sound like much to you but, to to me, it is a lifetime goal. I am fully clothed, sweat bottoms and a T-shirt, but I wear a houserobe over it all for two reasons: it is cold, and I have to keep my "private bits" suspended. This is something that happened while I was in the hospital last time, and the home treatment thereafter. When you are on an IV for a month or so at a time, or have a chest tube circulator attached to your torso, showering can be a real trial. You are all familiar with the term "Athelete's foot," it can happen anywhere, and once it does, it is your friend, like a monthly period, until you reach menopause or death. I'm just saying here, it's not like I am not successfully treated for this (which I am), but I need to keep the warm parts to themselves for the best of us all. Except of course, when my robe falls open when I am taking out the trash, and there is Mr. Happy and the twins all exposed in front of my neighbors, including the church secretary in the condo next door.

I watched with some excited anticipation, the "Castle" episode last evening with my darling Allysa Millano. I think I may have built this up to much in my head. You know, the anticipation is not as good as the actual act? Fine, mind you, but my socks were still on. Strange reference there, but if you know me, that is not unusal. I meant it was good but it didn't knock my socks off. Come to think of it, where did that expression ever come from? 1950's porno films where the sets were cold and the guys always kept their socks on? And generally, if this was straight porn, the socks were black. Now my mind is going in places I will not let my fingers explore.

Ter is safely (I hope) off to the salt mines, and my friend Alan is heading back down from big road trip, possibly tomorrow. He has had a disasterous time with some road trips in the past. This time his lady broke her elbow. He is convinced that he has a dark power of some type which enables him to break the people he loves. I'm kind of thinking the snowy and icy trails of Utah's National Parks in January may have something to do with this problem. I, myself, only nearly killed myself once at Arches, so his record could stand for a bit without remorse. Then again, I didn't go on this road trip, so who knows? Given my size, which even with a weight loss is still a force to be considered, and her's, there would have been another seismic event in So. Utah. Still, we could blame it on Alan. He is possibly as good as myself in accepting guilt. A rare thing in straight white males who were not raised Jewish or Morman. I'm going to hell again, aren't I?

Finally got Judy to go to coffee with me. I totally reverted to the inner gay man that is inside of us all (be honest, I have had sex with women too, but we all want to be able to be flaming a bit and kick it out). To be brutal, I gushed. I am not sure if that is even a valid word, but you know what I mean. It was heavily laced, of course, but then, who said Bailey's was just a breakfast drink? I wanted to sing "Somwhere Over the Raibow." with her, but she swore she would never sing that song again. Pity that. My Tenor is so high and sharp it could have been a lovely duet.

Yours from the ether. I'm finding my family now. Pity they are all as dead as I.

Monday, Monday

Waiting with baited breath for the "Castle," tonight, featuring Alyssa Millano. My love for her, Nathan, and the rest of the cast is nearly perfect. It is a "guilty pleasure," which must be, and can not be denied. An ensemble cast. And Susan Sullivan is, as always, a huge treasure. The evil network programmers, as is their wont, have decided to place a number of things I wish to see at the same time. What's up with that? If you do not already follow Alyssa on Twitter, you are in for a ride. Nathan and Nia Vardolous have been having a tweet-fest lately also. I'm probably blowing spelling here, this happens. Forgive me, this thing does not have a spell check of which I am accustomed. See how I avoided ending a sentence with a preposition? Damn, I'm good. Even when, rightly, I might add, Ter would take in my supline being on the sofa in a seemingly unconscious state and say 'What are you good for," I will correctly her with "For what can you be good?" This isn't really breeding, it is education. Perhaps (seemingly endless in possiblities here) I do not have a lot of diploms on my walls, but I do study and read everything that I can get my hands on.

When to a retro film fesitval yesterday, "Meet me in St. Louis." Who should I run into but the great dame herself. Still looking good, but then her marriages never turned out any better than Liza's. I asked her to go for coffee with me, but you know how that story goes. I am certain that somewhere in the ether with me, there will be "the one." By the way, I actaully heard that Andy Rooney and Bob Hope were "an item," I'm just saying. They were both so supportive of our servicemen... Alright, I'm going to hell for that one also.

From this ether, my best.

Later that day

Just finished watching one of my "guilty pleasures," being the nightime soap, 'Brothers and Sisters.' I really don't know why this affects me as it does, but maybe as the youngest child in my family, it rings a certain bell of truth. Can I say that? Bell of truth...Will I go straight to hell, or simply be put away in that asylum I heard they have somewhere where I hear they send people who mix metaphores? A pretty good show tonight, I love the 'come uppance' at the end, but then, while born in So. Cal., my roots are still in the South. One of the show's strengths is that it relies on the integrity of the family, almost and nearly at any cost. Even if it means shattering fragile relationships or going bankrupt or flatly acting like an idiot or insane. Strange, growing up in a Morman family as I did, that I would look to this show as a role model. You would think that family alegiance was something which was hard-wired in, but it is not. My love is unconditional, but it has to be earned, and my ability to trust over the years has been severely tested.

I still have not, as I reported I would do in my last post, cleaned the kitchen. I will make every effort to do so this evening. I did, however, shower successfully without falling down, and go to the store and get petrol with Ter, where I was polite, and killed no one. Truly. Even in the afternoon, not my best time of day, there were no deaths. Well, at least none that can be pinned on me in a court of law.

I just adjusted my buttocks on the couch and sat on the fork that was used during dinner. This is not as weird as it sounds. Our little 189 (in human years) old cat demands leftovers. If a plate or bowl is not passed to her immediately, she will continue screaming until it appears. I have gotten into the habit of removing my utensils before giving her the rightful prize and glory due her. You see where the fork comes in right? Thank God, Goddess, or whatever we worship these days, I can lose a lot of weight and still have a signifcantly padded ass. If I ever get back to the doctor, I can claim it is a cat scratch. Heaven knows I have enough of them. Bubba can "kneed" milk out of a freaking brick wall. I myself, being flesh, am no match for his desires. Makes for really interesting therapy sessions though. The last one I went to thought I had 'track marks' on my arms. "No. Just a big cat," doesn't always cut it with doctor types. Suspicious buggers that they are.

Off topic, as usual. I mentioned before that my mind was just going higgly-piggly where it wanted to these days. This is true. Talked to my rather beloved mother-in-law this evening. It is apparently freezing cold in Florida, and she is looking for someone to blame. I am totally innocent of that one. I am guilty of many things, but the effects of climate change are not among them. Damn. I just sat on this freaking fork again. Let me break here and remove it to it's proper home in the kitchen (which, again, I swear I will tidy up).

O.K. We wrestled a bit, but it is in the sink now. It wasn't just any fork mind you, but a salad fork--you know, the malevolent one. A large dinner fork you would notice right about, but a salad fork...they sneak up right to the tender bits every time. I have little trouble with butter knives and spoons, mind you, but the salad forks are out for blood, and it is generally mine. Spoons are pretty much spot on pacacific, they just want to nestle a bit. Just an off-the-wall thought here, but why don't we stop sending our treasured men and women in the service to Afganistan, and air drop spoons instead? Aside from the obvious comedic value, it could have a calming effect to people who generally eat with their hands. Oh. I am definetly going to hell for that one. Then again, I hear it is a dry heat.

Love from the ether.

Sunday Morning

We went to WalMart yesterday, and a few other errands. WalMart was enough, thank you. Hideous, ugly, rude people (and I was probably one of them), and a ton of ill mannered children running through the tiny narrow isles like it was Pamplona and they couldn't find any bulls. I hate to say this, but I really dislike that store. Do heinous acts of terrorism ever happen there? If no; why not?

If you do not read the Borowitz Report, I highly recommend it. He is mad funny. Yesterday he was talking about the full-body scanners at airports and commenting that it might be a boon for terrorists, as their health care benefits suck. I nearly pissed myself on that one. Just as an aside, Andy wrote that the new book about Warren Beatty says he's slept with over 13,000 women, making him the second-ranked golfer of all time. If you have anywhere near the strange and dark sense of humor as myself, you must read him.

Ter and I watched a couple of movies on TCM last night. The first was "Flying Down to Rio," which was the first Rogers/Astaire pairing, but also featured my dear friend in the ether, Delores Del Rio. This is, when viewed as an adult today, one of the gayest movies of all time. I'm certain that my parents, who were old enough to catch in the theaters when it came out, did not catch the dialogue or the really funny bits of business which went on the screen. Also, all the leading men wore more lipstick and eyeliner than the women. I don't like to use the "F" word anymore than I like to use the "N" word, but it just kept coming out of my mouth. Clearly the blonde male lead who was romancing Delores had never been close to a vagina since his mother gave birth to him. Ginger and Fred were great, and remind you just how special she really was. "Backwards and in heels," her famous quote, really stands true. We then caught most of "Latin Lovers" from the early 50's. Hysterical. Lana Turner stands out in a break-through performance as the biggest dyke of all time, falling in love with Ricardo Montalbon, who also sang and danced in the film. Seeing him in this flick made you understand why he did Chrysler commercials in the 70's. The past, when viewed from today, was really a very funny place. I would happily go back to the early 30's if I believed that all the Erte' and decco sets were real places and every nightclub had bands suspended by floating balloons, and a set of 300dancers on call in matching costumes to do the original, proto, dirty dancing. What a time the depression years must have been. What am I saying? What a time we're in now? Why don't we have beautiful and funny musicals and such now? We could use the release. But no...We get the DVD release of "Saw VII." Who really, and I mean this, really needs to see a horror film right now when reality is already a pretty scary place? I truly suspect that very few cinematic feats of today will ever be on the "classic movie channel."

It's about time to feed the kids, Bubba is subtely reminding me. I still haven't loaded the dishwasher and made tidy in the kitchen, but I can't very well do that until they are fed, or they will drive me to insane distraction. Sadly, Ter and I work on different time zones. When I am ready to clean or go shopping, it is very early morning, and I don't want to make the noise. By the harsh and unforgiving light of noon, I am nearly comatose and do not always want to risk "outside." What we need are better and easier to score amphetamines and a better pre-need plan. Maybe a transfusion or something for me, which allows me to examine sunlight without total fear, confusion and terror. Is this covered by my HMO, I wonder? They seem to be denying every other claim made earlier this year. You know, frivolous things like in-hospital x-rays and such. If I ever sound like I have no hope left, things like this are the reason why.

Did manage to catch up with Jayne Mansfield. She's a hoot, but don't let her drive. (I promised myself I would not make the obvious joke, but you know what I'm itching to say) From the depths of the ether, again, with love.

Career Goals

I have decided not to do full frontal nudity in my next film. I know this may come as a dissapointment to my fans, but I am simply not ready yet. It is widely reported that for every ten pounds you lose, your member grows an inch in appearance. I have, for the past three or four months of not being able to hold down food, lost a bit of weight. I'm figuring for the full effect that I would desire, I only have to lose another hundred pounds. I will then be likened to an Auschwitz survivor with a big dick. Perhaps my goals are inopportune or unobtainable. Maybe just crazy. But then, I'm headed there in a handbasket anyway.

Caught up with most of my news websites this morning. What the heck? What else do I have to do when normal people are sleeping the sleep of the just? Loud action films are right out. Anyway, it seems that the winter season is taking it's death toll. There used to be a standard that famous people's deaths come in threes. Inflation has taken it's toll and now that is thirty or so. Don't mind me; I'm not being morbid, just envious. For most of us among the walking dead, we seek a nice long nap. And remember where to send my check, o.k.? I started being among the undead way before it became popular. I want my royalties. Anyway, I did catch Terri Hatcher on the Letterman show repeatedly grabbing her breast and saying how she has learned to sneeze in a more comfortable fashion. I could not make this up. Check it out yourselves, the interview was decidedly weird. I think even Letterman, who is no stranger to grabbing a breast now and then, was actually at a loss for words.

Have you noticed how bombings, destruction, and terror have become "Oh. Another one?" When did this happen? Remember when the entire nation mobilized when baby Jessica fell down a well? I actually just skimmed through the stuff going on in the MidEast this morning. Thinking we should reconjugate some verbs now--hardened, harder, hardest, and who gives a f**k? Maybe the Monroe Doctrine wasn't such a bad idea. Alright. Don, meet soapbox. Don, get off of soapbox. Really though, what with all that is messed up right now, where is our personal sense of propriety? Another thing that caught my eye on Hufington Post this morning. The man holding the record for the world's largest penis is unemployed and can not find work. Again, I couldn't make this shit up, see for yourself. See the startling dual-dichotomy here? That news story actually caught my eye, the story about the recent 26 deaths due to extremist attacks I didn't even open. Yes your honor, the defense rests.

Maybe what we need is not another comic book hero (or graphic novel for snobs) to show up in movies, but remakes of Lassie and Flipper. With the state of CGI these days, we wouldn't even have to have actual animals. Stirring and emotional, heartfelt dramas with an introduction by Jar Jar Binks. O.K., so that one is over the top. I am however a realtively large man, and I have yet to find a top too big to scale. Just a thought though. Remember when it was wise to be billed as "The feel good movie of the summer," instead of "More explosions than you've ever seen, even after eating bad guacamole?" Oh, my brain is back in that hot skillet.

Errol and I are not working out. Shame. But I hear that Elvis has not quite left this building. Maybe it's time to troll the ether. Jayne Mansfield must be around here somewhere.

Chelsea Lately

I know I mentioned this earlier, but I'm watching Chelsea again this evening, and it just doesn't stop. Diet tip for stars: take two shakes during the day and a sensible penis at night. Kirstie Alley is an obvious target. She's started a web site apparently for weight loss tips. Really. Pot, meet kettle. Tiger's photos by the wonderful Annie Liebowitz are also a hot topic in talk shows in general, and I can understand this. Sorry girls (and I hear today, guys), but I would not want to see him coming at me in the night. That intense face he gets when he makes a putt? Making your own putt? No thanks. I've got no trouble with eating the chocolate, if you know what I mean, but really, If I'm going to go there, I want Denzel or Hallie. Near as I can recall, Hallie's big scandal was re-negotiating her contract when they asked her to do a topless scene. As for Denzel? His only crime is that he doesn't get enough awards to show up bombed and make a fool of himself.

Boy. My brain is like a fart in a hot skillet these days--it just goes wherever. Then you end up in a jail in Mexico, and live to regret it. You all know what I mean. We've all been there, right? No? I thought it was a common enough experience. Two things to remember when visiting our neighbor to the south. American Express, and cash. Lots of cash. All right, three things. Tequilla is smooth, but it really is an alcoholic beverage and you may lose your sense of propriety after huge portions. And avoid intense and powerful motorcycles. The Tijuana Libre' is a great road to test the top speed, but there are drawbacks to this scheme. There is luck, and then there's pushing your luck. Worse, if you get injured, you have to find a family with a mini-van to take you back across the border, because health care there in general is a film starring Dr. Mengele and a lot of expendable extras.

Heard from Alan this evening, they're in Reno, which is a hop and a snow packed skip to Sacramento, where he is to deposit his lady. It's raining there, which can actually lead to snow in higher elevations. It's been known to happen. Still, it is interstate 80, and a major pass which is plowed and cleared, and he has a front wheel drive car, which is better in those conditions, and he is a cautious driver. He thought to "draft' behind a semi; which would be a good thought, were it not for their tendency to jack-knife when driven poorly by sleep-deprived drivers with a schedule to keep and too much coffee laced with black beauties. I'm just saying. They aren't staying in the downtown section of Reno, just off the highway. Probably a good move. I was actually married in Reno a thousand years ago, and being there since, it has gone the way of the dodo, passenger pigeon, and unicorn. Sad to go out and walk about, just things going downhill fast. I'm thinking that recent motel chains probably have decor in the rooms which was never used by Sammy Davis Junior. We stayed in Harrah's a couple of years ago, and I remembered how much I was alergic to fur covered swag lamps and drapes and bedspreads which were all made from the late Kate Smith's gowns. I am not kidding.

I did get out of the house today, risking sunlight and exposure of any kind, and picked up a few staples. No, not really staples mind you, just things that I needed. My next door neighbor dropped by after work to borrow some tonic water so I bought her some more, and you can't buy tonic without a bottle of vodka to keep it company. This is like a Milos and Otto thing. A Hepburn and Tracy thing. A Scarlett and Rhett thing. A Lindsey and Tara thing (but with panties). Stop me now, please. It is clear I am no longer in functional mode whatsoever. Where was I? Oh, yes, I did pick up some Tonic for my neighbor, who was very pleased to see same. Apparently, after a long day at work being a church secretary (I'm not kidding), she needs a little relax time. I am sooo behind this. After a long day sitting on the sofa in my bathrobe, I also feel the need to unwind.

Well, I'd best sign off. Errol is getting insistant, Delores and Carmen are still pissed at me, and Max is still ready for my close-up. Yours from the ether.

Am I dreaming or stoned?

Didn't think I was asleep, but Jackie Chan is singing a country song on the Ellen show. Didn't think I was stoned either, I haven't seen a weed which was not on the lawn in over 30 years, but this particular moment in television history will haunt me forever. You know how some things are so vivid and vibrant that they sear themselves into your eyeballs? It's kind of like that, and I am, admitedly, a bit punchy now. I have not had the personal experience, but it's something I would exemplar to watching your wife give birth. How anyone can have more than one child, or even ever have sex again, is a mystery to me. Call me cold or callous, I seem to be heavily into aliteration today, but I will stand corrected if I am incorrect.

Senator Lieberman has just come out against me. No, he didn't come out. Not in that way, but he is pretty clear in his hatred of me. So odd, he was with me a couple of months ago, but the boat that is his life seems to take on currents with a full sail type of tacking which defies description and generally ends up with your boat stranded in the Sargasso Sea. I'm trying not to take it personally, I never really liked him anyway. If I never see him again, it's o.k. I have a neighbor with a bull dog, so I can see hanging jowls and slobber anytime.

I am trying to get out the door (yes, to outside), but I am hindered by anything at all which would distract me from this goal, including watching Jackie on a daytime talk show. Now of course, I am writing this here and now, so I have one other reason to keep my hands so busy they can not put socks on my feet. Change up here--If you have never seen Chelsea Handly's show (it is on very late), please hit hulu or something to see parts of same. She is quite possibly the best, greatest hope for being blonde that has ever been given to us meer mortal people with brown hair. You can spend hours watching the fun. I'm not saying that I have never met an intelligent blonde before, there have been a few. I'm not naming names here, but Carol H is one of them, and is a compelling beauty also. It can happen.

Now I really have to sign off. Max wants another take on the close-up, which was embarrassing the first time, and Errol is still looking at my ass. Life in the ether seems to be much more intertaining that the real thing.

Back in the saddle

Sorry, all you rampant fans who rely on me for solice in this bittter age, I just dropped the ball for the past few days in posting. I'm tanned, rested and ready...Damn, wrong reference there. I have not really been asleep, that just doesn't come anymore, along with the lack of need to eat. I keep thinking of the popularity of vampires of late and think to myself "What the f**k? You're pale, don't go outside during the daytime, never need to eat, and are doomed?" Welcome to my world a**holes; here's where you can send my check.

Talked with Alan (on the road) the other evening. From Elko, Nevada. I told him that this was the only place in the western US which had a Waffle House, but perhaps that has closed down. We did have some lively discussions over the Waitress Factory, you know the one, that churns out women named Edna and Agnes who wear makeup totally inappropriate to their age, and can readily use the word "Hon," as a noun, verb, pronoun and adjective. Bitchy, I know, but you know what I mean, and my intentions, as always, are pure and good. I did hit that place quite often when I was doing my monthly commute from San Diego to Boise. I can't believe I used to make that trip so often, and without strain. Oh for the easy joints and more flexible butts of youth.

Caught the People's Choice awards the other night. Have to watch anything the "Queen" is involved with. Some surpises in the awards and some of the "dark horse" contenders I was routing for didn't place, but all in all a reasonably satisfying award show. A couple of "iffy" moments: what possesses people who are up for an award to wear clothes that they can not possibly sit or stand in, and then get drunk, requiring a team of syncophants to assist them to the stage. What's up with that? If being socially irresponsible is a requirement for fame and fortune--again, here's where you can send my check. I know, I bitch, I moan, but really, am I that far off base? Still, and to get back to the subject I myself started, I think award shows are getting better. We're in for them for the next few months, so I hope so.

After days of no real rest, it's time for me to ponder my existence once again, and greet the dawn.

Still hanging out in the ether with Max and Gloria, but I'm starting to notice Errol Flynn checking out my ass. Where are my standards anymore? Where are his?

More New Year's fun

The real fun of being bi-polar is that you have two speeds. Very, Very, Very fast, and Very, Very, Very slow. I'm kind of on the slow side right now. I will look around the house, and viewing an album cover which once meant much to me, will break out in tears, then I will pour myself a drink and get back to normal. I am looking at the total disintegration of my psyche in a positive light. Hey, If I don't go crazy, who will? It is my severe understanding that Amy Winehouse is already booked, The Bussey clan is just f**king scary, and the Baldwin clan, while still attractive, are tending towards the rounder side as they settle into their age. Don't get me started on the Arquettes and the Quaid brothers. I understand apples falling from a tree, but being propelled by cannons?

Thank heavens you can always count on Cher.

I really am a bit "in the dumps" right now, and I don't have much to say. Still, in the futuristic life that we lead where keeping a journal in actual print writing is no longer viable, I will still try to write something every day. I spent most of last night listening to sappy ballads and pretending that I could sing. You know how that goes. As is usual and customary, Bubba kind of ended that tear-fest. He who can not be denied, is not easily denied. We saw a program on PBS, Life after People. Focused on a dog breed, saying that cats would be a major food source when the people (that's us) were gone. Sorry Dude. You've never seen my cats. Dog tartare for a long while.

Bye from the ether. Max lost his eyepiece, found it in an embarrassing place. Who knew you could see yourself coming and going? Gloria Swanson, my close up is REALLY ready.

Who knew?

Another bad start to a day. I was up late, as is my wont, and Bubba the cat/puma helped me to remember that it was time for creative feeding by twining himself around my earphones and changing the tracks on my music device. He knows if he pisses me off to a certain degree I will most certainly get up to feed him just for the peace of mind. After that, time for a bit of a nap. Oh. Had to get back up again briefly, fed the kids but forgot to get the coffee ready. You know how these chores can work your nerves. Bubba is simply so large that he can not be ignored. With winter coming on, he is even more precious, as he seeks heat. We, of course, being the only things in the house which actually produce heat, are pretty prime for his goals. I'm trying to get it together somewhat now. I need to shower and such, you know, social grooming, but I am moving a bit slow. We need to get to the store and to take on petrol, and I am good for that, I just move a bit slow.

I am reminded of 16th century reliefs carved by half-blind european monks which reflect on the nature of humanity and the state of humans in general, the struggle for acceptence and the desire to be...Nah. Not really, but it is an image to hold on to, no? All things considered, I am wicked working on my own tonsure. I started "following" the rest of Joss Wheadon's crew on twitter. Did you know that Eliza Dushku is one of the "hottest" nerds of 2009? Really? Her? If she is a nerd, we went to different high schools. Can you imagine the scenario. Hey Eliza, I know you are unpopular and graced with incredible looks and a personality that literally says "scortch," and steam comes off you in waves, but as you are so lacking in male attention, would you consider helping me tape up my glasses and going to the prom with me? Really. A woman like her needing a date is the seventh sign of the end of this age of mankind.

Max has got the lighting done, I found a tube of lipstick left over by Ms. Sheppard, and we're ready for the close-up. P.S. Carmen and Delores are both upset with me. Sometimes you just can't catch a break in the ether.

Update on travel, not my own

Talked with Alan and his lady a couple of times today. First going into a WalMart after a trip through the Valley of Fire. A beautiful place, made better by the utilization of chocolate malt balls and beek jerky, I am certain. Then later, after they checked into the Zion Park Inn Lodge for the evening. I do miss that place. It's so beautiful up there. Alan tells me it is dry and clear. You know the saying, "Yes, but it's a dry cold." Change this when you go to Laughlin in the summer as appropriate and your face is not activtively melting off your skull.

Talked to my friend Carol earlier also. She is planning on taking her usual Birthday Trip a bit late this year, but she and her hubby are headed to God's Country, which again, involves ocean and sky, latter this week. I am hoping that Ter and I will be able to recreate the journey soon. If you can drive up California's coast and not fall in love with something, you're simply not trying. Carol promises to give Morro Rock a big "Howdy" for me. I hope to be seeing it soon. I just want it to remember me. Yeah, I'm the guy in the ludicrous Hawaiian shirts and shorts even in the rain during winter. Magnum P.I. I am not, but not for lack of trying.

My love to all. Miss Swanson is ready for her close-up, and she doesn't much care for Carmen either. The ether can be an unforgiving place.

January is busting out all over

Is it only the 2nd? Like I've said, I can't tell days anymore. Alan and his lady are probably up now, dressed or dressing, and getting ready to attack the State of Utah. I wish them God-speed, smooth roads, and no ice or snow to drive through on or in. A bit of snow is quite scenic, mind you, and it makes for good pictures, you just don't want to be caught in it.

I got up early to feed the cats, as usual. Black is so old that she can no longer get up on the bed with me to announce the morning, but Bubba has no problem with that task and is about 40 pounds of pleasure in your face reminding you that it is time for his open maw to be filled with food. On the rare ocassions when I am still asleep, he will find interesting places to stick his cold, wet nose; including getting under the covers to find the warmest parts, all the while purring like a Formula One racer with it's throttle stuck. Generally a couple of heavy walks back and forth across a full bladder are enough to get you up and moving. For all of this though, he is a good boy. Like every good cartoon, He doesn't mean to be evil, he's just drawn that way.

Don't know what is in store for me today, but then again, I rarely do. The clear nights we have been having make for sunny days, which is good. Our little house is generally colder than outside, it having the strange and nearly eerie quality of keeping in the cold during winter and the heat during summer. I will start opening windows and doors soon to try and get some of the outside inwards.

My best to all from the ether. And Delores says Hi. I'm trying to keep her and Carmen seperated, they really do not get along. What is it with dead movie stars anyway?

Day late; Dollar short

Was supposed to be in Vegas now. Didn't quite work out. I was pretty well prepared but it (or dare I say myself) just wasn't working. As good news goes however, I have all my laundry done and a sufficient supply of hootch to keep me for a week or more. As for food? Hell, who eats anymore? it's so outre'.

As I was already dressed, Ter reccommended that we go to the beach at sunset to take some shots. We got some good ones, and met a lot of fine folks with dogs. Couple of things you can always count on when hanging about beaches in No. San Diego County. Birds, surfers year round, and people walking their dogs. Got there just in time for the sunset, which, as usual, happens every evening and in the same direction (how lucky is that?).

Talked to Alan briefly on the phone this evening. He made the trip to Vegas on his own successfully, picked up his lady from the airport (after much confusion-I should really have been there for that-McCarren and I are old friends), and are checked into their hotel in a shitty part of town. I could have warned him about that. There is a distinct danger about booking your hotel rooms from the net. Rarely, if ever, do the pictures show the street people, hookers, stoners, punks and drugged out abusers in the advertisement. Truth be told, if you are about three blocks off the strip from the old downtown (the Freemont area), it is best to carry a gun and proof of your abillity to remain in this country legally. I learned that one the hard way from my many trips with Ter on the convention centers in various ugly towns where she was peddling the wares of her then boss. Worst, and this may come as a surprise, was Houston and Phoenix. I have not been in combat, but I've been in those places, and even a reinstated draft would never get me back. I get shivers flying over them in a commercial jet at 6000 feet.

So. No road trip for me this month. I'm trying to plan on a trip in February with the woman to go to Morrow Bay. Hopefully that one will work out. I know I am the weak link in the chain, but I need the ocean and the sky more than I need the desert interiors of this beautiful continent. Just going to the shore this evening at sunset helped to enliven me. If anyone wants more pictures, let me know, I can provide.

Ooops! Delores is calling me, have to book now. If I don't answer right away she get's into her barbituates again. Yours from the ether.