Saturday night and I'm gassed

So I'm slow dancing by myself with a glass of red wine, I have Mel Torme cranked up to 11. All of a sudden I hear Mrs D.O.M. yelling, "that's a little loud, don't ya think"? First of all there is no such thing as too loud when your talkin about Mel Torme. Mel F-ing Torme people. Real man's music. Finger snappin, foot tappin, cigarette smokin, slap a dame across the face music.

Ernest Borgnine?

OK, I "Googled" nervous breakdown symptoms and have confirmed that I'm right in the middle of one. I'm pretty sure that I've had all of the symptoms at one time or another. I mean, is it normal to want to have someone shoot you out of a cannon straight at an oncoming bus. I need to get out into the forest with my animal and tree peeps. Curl up under an old Hemlock and spend a cold wintry night bedded down with a herd of deer. Skin a grizz maybe, or go on a three day drunk in Nantucket with Norm Abrahm, upon parting ways Norm would say "Watch your top knot", and I would say "Watch yourn". Just thinking about old Norm has put me a little more at ease. He's the "Ernest Borgnine" of woodworking. And I'm the "Ernest Borgnine" of ruggedly handsome Robert Redford look-a-likes.

Santa's on his way!

OK, I've got a nice goblet of "Il Bastardo" red wine(for the antioxidants)in front of me. I think "Il Bastardo" is French for "the crazy Gringo has a gun", because I do, many of them. And plenty of ammo. Now ga-head. Oh. Merry Christmas everyone. Mrs. D.O.M. gave me some kind of high tech Flip Video camera(gamera, remember him?). I'm thinking of taking it out to the manger(chicken shed) and and film my hens opening their gifts, and wait for Santa and The Baby Jesus out there.

Today's Damage

Me and the Keurig machine. We have a problem.

No Kids Last Night!

We've got 14 plus inches of "Global Warming" on the ground already and it's still "Global Warming" outside. I had to shovel a trail out to the chicken shed to give them fresh water and to retrieve 3 eggs for my breakfast. A typical D.O.M. breakfast consists of 3 fried eggs and bacon on Italian bread, with pumpkin cake for desert and coffee of course(my third cup today). The twins stayed over my Mom's last night and Taylor is down visiting her Dad, so Mrs. D.O.M. and I have had the place to ourselves. Without the kids around our lives kind of turn into a real life version of "Pulp Fiction". Right now she's hiding from me, and I don't blame her, because I am angry. She yelled at me for wanting to eat the whole pumpkin cake, and using all her kitchen sponges and for always leaving knives dangling off the edges of counter tops, and jumping up and down on the bed until it broke, and for buying a fedora and liking my hens more than her, and charging extremely expensive power tools at "Lowes" and never ever using them. Sorry, I don't really have any point today.



p.s. In this instance, "Pulp Fiction" means Chinese food, book store,toy store and a stupid Colin Firth movie.

Ice Storm

Big ice/freezing rain storm last night. Governor Lynch has declared a state of emergency.
I woke up with the thought of how lucky my family must be to actually have the D.O.M. living with them. I’m so glad to bring them so much comfort. I’m sure Superman’s family feels as they do. Anyway, I woke up and sprang into action. I packed my mouth with chocolate chip cookies (for energy) and headed out, into the madness, to get the generator and check on my hens. All my birch trees were bent over with the weight of the ice, the chickens greeted me like a returning war hero or some kind of drunken Viking looking for love. I grabbed the generator and dragged it across the yard to the side of the house. Then I went down to the basement and powered up the boiler and back fed the electric panel through the outlet on the boiler. So I got heat and a couple of lights to work that way. I couldn’t get the coffee maker going and I needed gas for the generator, so I needed to venture out and score. I felt kind of like Mad Max. I have no problem taking lives. I need gas and I need coffee and I WILL stab somebody. I need food too, it’s been a half an hour and the cookies have worn off. They say 300,000 homes are out of power, so when I hop in the truck I have no idea what craziness I’m going to encounter. Now I feel more like the Omega Man. I’m driving down the road and nothing is open, no people anywhere, except the un-dead (?) Eventually I found a Stop and Shop that was open. It even had a gas station. I filled up my gas cans (just like Mel Gibson) and went into the market. I really had no idea what I wanted (Mrs. D.O.M. went shopping yesterday, and when I called her from the store she said she didn’t need anything). While trying to find the bakery, I grabbed two big “things” of water, a pack of pre-sliced pepperoni, cream cheese, a box of Sponge Bob Band-Aids (impulse buy) and some stuff to fix my eye (I got something in it the day before). I found the bakery and got two huge coffees and a half dozen muffins. At the checkout line, the guy in front of me had like 50 cans of soup, tons of bread, water and all kinds of stuff one would buy in a situation like this. I looked at my stuff and felt kind of like a mental patient. My tune changed when I got out into the truck and started eating my sugar coated lemon poppy muffin. I thought to myself, “My family doesn’t need to know about the muffins.” I get home with the bounty and find Vicki buried under blankets on the couch. She didn’t budge from there until the power came back on, around 3pm. It’s not her fault, it must be some instinctual defense mechanism. Curl up in a ball, cover yourself with blankets and shout orders and complaints at the top of your lungs until the danger is gone. She actually made the girls put gloves on, in the house. It was 66 degrees and rising. Well, power is back on, for the moment anyway. Vick is happy. Kids are quiet. So all is well at World Manliness Headquarters.

Davey and Goliath meet the D.O.M.

As I sit here with crackling fire going (I "on demanded" it on the TV) I'm contemplating the consequences of a Davey and Goliath Christmas. The twins have fallen in love with Davey, so we have ordered every conceivable Davey and Goliath item out there. Reading books, coloring books,action figures, 4 DVDs. We even found Davey and Goliath punching bags. The Davey one is the kind that bounces back up after you sock him in the jaw. The Goliath one is kind of low, so I guess you just kick him, or break a chair over his back. Or stab it. Anyway, we can't wait to give them their goodies.

I'm Out in Public

I'm sitting here in Verde's art studio. It's "Holiday Open Studios" and there are lots of people passing thru. Some here, one would guess, to get a rare glimpse of The D.O.M. Stuart, a neighboring world renowned photographer just brought me some Madagascar Cognac, which upon drinking, burned a hole in my soul. I may be drunk. OK where was I? I'm the D.O.M. for Christ's sake, how's that for starters. Hope he comes back with more of this stuff. I think its made from the blood of Madagascaran orphans. Aged in a vanilla keg for a half a century. People are all around me looking at Vicki's art, I'm a little scared being around all these people. Vicki just left me alone with all these peeps. Where the f--- is the guy with the cognac? My chest hurts. The chief from "One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest" just sauntered by the door. Is it me? My stupid wife just told me to stop pounding my fist on the table. That was awful she's not stupid, she's my sweety.

Saturday's Adventures with the D.O.M.

Lots to do today. I have a huge pile of broken central air conditioners that have to be torn apart,"limb from limb", I don't know why everything has to be followed by the phrase "limb from limb", maybe because I have the mind of a nine year old boy. Anyway, I need to tear them(like a savage)apart and put them in my recycling pile in the back of my workshop. Where they will rot, for all time. Then I need to do the final sanding of the drywall joints and possibly put a coat of primer on the wall. Verde wants me to put the Christmas(can I still say that?) lights up. Plus I want to do some drawing and also spend some time with my chickens, who I'm going to see right now, thanks for reminding me. See ya.

Just Thinking

So, lately I've been thinking about orangutans. Either fighting them or fighting like them. They must be incredibly strong, like Special Olympics strong. I imagine if you got one mad enough it would tear your arms and legs off. Quite the unorthodox fighting style, no punching or kicking, just a lot of tearing of the limbs and plenty of biting(of course). And screaming incoherently. And whipping your feces at innocent bystanders.

Turkey Day

Thanksgiving dinner at Tom and Gina's house was fabulous. There were 16 of us. Everyone got along great. The highlight though, was this joke. A bear walks into a bar, he asks the bartender "May I have..............................a drink?" The bartender says "Why the big pause"

Ghost Hunt

I'm getting ready to head up to the White Mountains. We're going on a ghost hunt at one of the most haunted inns in the country. Verde will be bringing a bunch of her high tech gear. I'm a little old school, so I'll just be packing my fists. We're going to stay up all night and catch one of these bastards on film.

Thanks

I went out to the hen house to wake up my birds and share an English muffin with them. I opened their little door and popped my head in and said good morning to them(in their native chicken language), they flew off their perch flapping their stupid wings, covering me and the English muffins with chicken dust. I gave them one to split and I sat with them and ate mine. Moments like this are what I'm thankful for. Sitting in a pile of chicken poop, in my pajamas and slippers, 20 degrees outsides, just me and me mates.

It has begun

Nothing enrages me more than setting up the Christmas tree. We have a fake one that weighs 300 pounds, the only good thing is that it's pre-lit. I'm sitting here, out of breathe, drinking coffee. They are giggly and all "happy", trimming the tree. Being enraged enrages me. Almost time to make my pecan pie. Oh, I've got to go check on my hens, their door is still open. Maybe I'll score some eggs for the pie. Wish me luck poo poo pants.

Holiday Joys

Thanksgiving is coming up, tomorrow I will make my famous(and fabulous) pecan pie. The only other edible thing I make is the "Fist Sandwich". Both are a joy to serve. When I was a little younger and a bit more flexible I used to serve a mean foot sandwich. Nowadays when someone begs me for a "foot sandwich" I usually just give them a "two by four sandwich" across the jib instead. So I guess I can make three things, not counting the "punch in the belly", but that's desert. My Dad used to make a delightful "kick in the slats", but he's not with us anymore.

The D.O.M. and June

Barefoot

I dropped a 4x8 sheet of drywall on my big(barefoot) toe, while finishing up the drywall in the basement. Hurt like hellfire. Can't feel my foot.

Quietas Timota oont El Rancho Manliesta

Mom has the twins. Its so quiet. Nice hot cup of coffee all to myself. This very moment is why God put me here. I hope some chickadees show up this morning. Its cold out there. My hens are all snugly in the shed, I've got two heat lamps going for them. Ole Verde (who called me The D.U.M last night), has a list of stuff for me to do today. We shall see. I know I need to finish joint compounding the drywall. All on my own I know this. The other crap, the rotting pumpkins, that's a big fat no( I'll get to it as soon as she wakes up).

Ghost Dog: The Water Guy

Tonight I found myself, along with my wife, at our favorite Chinese restaurant. The home of my old adversary, Ghost Dog. For those of you new here, Ghost Dog is the water guy at this place. He is the best, in a class by himself, a living work of art. We mess with each other's minds whenever I dine there. Anyway, you can search previous posts to catch up on our history. Tonight the place was dead. Verde's favorite waiter was our server, she has a Chow Yun Fat fetish going on, and this guy is his twin. I couldn't be bothered by her batting her doe eyes at the waiter, I had a score to settle. Ghost Dog materialized from behind the waiter and filled our glasses with a smile. Man, he's one handsome Mexican I thought. Did he have work done? Then he vanished. Round one was his. I mentioned to Verde about his looking younger. Could he be aging backwards? I forgot about him for a while until I heard a clink on the table. F-ing Ghost dog just clinked my water glass against the serving thongs. HA! In my mind, I jumped up and punched him in the face. "Look what ya did ya big dope!" In reality I just gave him a bug eyed glare and he gave a sheepish smirk and disappeared again. I think he knows that I know he's aging backwards and is a little shaken up by it. Later on he redeemed himself. I took a sip of water and placed it down on the table, with his back to me and across the restaurant, he spun around and made a bee line for my glass and filled it with a smile. He either was watching me thru the reflection in the window or he heard me put my glass down on a cotton tablecloth. Once again he proves why they call him The King.

Grandfather Drawing

Cats

Walking out of Dunkin Donuts today I noticed a headline in a Boston newspaper, "Cat shot with BB gun". Why is this news and who gives a crap? Cats are scum and The Lord gave them to us so we would have something to shoot our BBs into. I don't want to live in a world where you can't give a cat the boot every now and again. Who's with me on this?

Siggy

Many years ago when I was just a lad some older punk kid was bothering my sister. I don't know how, but I found myself, along with my father, brother and sister riding in a police car looking for this guy. In the front seat was a police officer (friend of my Dad's) driving, and Siggy was in the front passenger seat. Keep in mind this is the same Siggy that was too violent to get into the Marines, in the early 1960's, because he beat a man to death in a bar room fight. The same man who did 9 months in an Arizona prison(wearing paper slippers, because he had no shoes) for mashing a burrito into his own forehead( the police were watching him at the time). Anyway, why he was riding "shotgun" in a marked patrol car, I'll never know. When he was calm and in a good mood, he was a ticking timebomb of extemely nervous mayhem. But tonight he was mad. Dosen't even matter that he didn't know why. Don't think the cop really knew Siggy. OK, so we pull up to this corner where a gang of hoodlums were hanging around, maybe 10 of them (at least) it was more like a crowd. So my sister says, "There he is". I think by the time she got the word "there" out, Siggy was sprinting into the mass of people, by himself. Oh, and he had no idea what the person he was after looked like. He just started attacking everyone. Lots of people were either on the ground (with Siggy) or running away. The cop was looking at my father, flabbergasted, almost laughing, "What the hell is he doing?" It was an amazing site to see. The guy we were after got away. Siggy got back into the car and just shrugged his shoulders.

So

I think my children are turning me into a babbling idiot

Chickadee update

The feeder has been full for almost a half hour, still no chickadees. I'm starting to get pissed off.

Saturday's mission

I've decided to become a chickadee guru. I'm headed off to the hardware store to buy whatever I need to attract these birds. I will gain their confidence and have them eating from my hands, most likely by the end of the day. My goal is to have them flock to me whenever I'm outside and land on my shoulder.

Siggy

If there was a T-Rex after me and I could only make one call, I'd call Siggy.

Cool Tree

Half Dome, Yosemite National Park

Doc Manly on Mt Whitney

Feeling Better

I'm feeling a little better today. Eating Oreo cookies and drinking coffee all day seems to be working. I think it's the orange colored creme filling in the cookies that's doing it. Or it could be the prospect of the weekend coming to an end and me getting the hell out of here and back to work tomorrow. That's not true, I've had a wonderful time. Trying to watch an all day "Super Group"(reality show) marathon, while sitting next to a crying, vomiting six and a half year old girl, it doesn't get any better. I'm was trying to listen to what Ted Nugent and Sebastian Bach were arguing about, and I had to keep turning the volume up to drown out her crying.

Davey and Goliath

At home today, me and one of the twinlings are sick. The highlight of a day spent on the couch watching TV was when I stumbled across the old "Davey and Goliath" TV show. We scored big time! Two episodes. Only a piece of crap from another planet doesn't know who Davey and Goliath are. Loveable little Davey and his trusty(and stupid) dog Goliath. Each episode teaches good old fashion family values. Kind of like if Jesus made a claymation version of "Leave it to Beaver". Or if Opie Taylor and Theodore Cleaver had a baby and made a clay puppet out of it and sent it to Sunday School. Anyway, the show was awesome.

Oak Tree

Today I collected some leaves, from my friend, a tree. A mighty oak that stands next to my mail box. I say hello to this tree every day when I get my mail. I view the leaves as a gift from this tree. My children were so excited when I brought them in. Very beautiful and colorful. If it feels right, tomorrow I will ask for a few more.

Mount Washington, Cool Clouds

Sweet Memories

The first time I tried Laudanum was with Neil Diamond(the singer). I met him waiting for a flight at the Anchorage airport in 1993. He was returning from a fishing trip and I was going back home after spending 5 weeks on Denali. My stink and 3rd degree sun burnt face caught his attention. I was putting some cream on my scabbed up face when he just walked up to me and said, "Hey son, I've got something that will take your mind off your face". He then open up his cape and reached in his vest and pulled out a bottle that turned out to be Laudanum. He put his arm around me and said he had always wanted to be friends with a real mountain climber. We sat down, waiting for our respective flights, swapping war stories. We arm wrestled for the last shooter of Laudanum. He won, of course, he has gorilla arms, as you know. The next thing I knew, someone was pulling my bleeding head, out of a cigarette machine and Mr Diamond had vanished.

Death Comes to World Manliness Headquarters

I just had to bury one of Vicki's finches. Johnnny died today, we have no idea how old she was. Johnny and June were the first of four finches she got a few months back. When she got Jack, and he started making sweet bird love to Johnny, we figured Johnny was a girl( or gay). So, I just got back inside from burying her. I slam dunked her into a hole I dug next to my beloved Ruben. I said rest in peace Jack, because I didn't know she was Johnny, and covered the old girl with some dirt.

John "Wayne" McCain

Dump Run

This morning I went to the Transfer/Recycling center to get rid of my couch. I don't go there often and I had no sticker on my truck, which made me little nervous. I parked my pick up truck and went into the office. Two intimidating old timers where there, they had this, "Can I help you" thing going on. And I, not used to talking to strangers, asked in an unusually(almost yelling) loud voice "I have no sticker on my truck can I get rid of my couch here?" They gave each other , the all to familiar "what an idiot" look. The head guy made me go get my license plate number. I fumbled with the door an went back outside. I was getting pissed off. "Were they laughing at me?" "They're playing games with me." I could feel the anger inside me building. I'm not some joke. They were old, but there were two of them. If there was going to be trouble I needed to be ready. I went back in with my plate number ready to attack. The leader of the two made a sudden move, which made me jump. I was reaching for a pot of hot coffee to smash him in the face with, when he got up and handed me my sticker, and directed me where to go. Humiliated, I got back into my truck. After backing up to the wrong stall, I found the right spot and dumped my couch. They watched me from the window of their office. I could see them laughing.

Some much needed humor

Close Call

So I'm on this service call today in some one's house. The home owner,a woman is holding a newborn baby. In mid sentence she says "Can you hold on a second", then pulls out her breast and starts feeding the kid. Hell-f-ing-lo. I ran out of the room and hid in her sons room(who had just pissed his pants, by the way). The little freak followed me into his room, so I booked it down into their basement and closed the door behind me. I stood down there for what I thought was an appropriate amount of time, then I went back up to finish the conversation. What's wrong with people? I'm supposed to give her a quote for some work, but I can never go back again.

There is a story behind this carnage

Sunday morning found the D.O.M. ,in his living room, wailing away at a sectional sofa with a hammer. As crazy as this seems, the madness was justified. With the new couch Verde just bought, the old one had to go. The problem was that it had a pull-out bed on one side and two recliners on the other side and it weighed a ton. Even I, with my huge guns and Bruce Lee abs, could not move this beast. Being the Doctor of Manliness, asking for help from another man was out of the question. So just me and the "Christmas Hammer"( a hammer won in a raffle last Christmas) went to work. I tore the beast to shreds. I lost myself in the act, becoming somewhat deranged and disorientated. When it was over, the couch and the living room were destroyed. Somehow I threw the "Christmas Hammer" threw the window and my mouth was full of stuffing from one of the pillows. The ringing in my ears turned out to be my six year old twins screaming.

Sunday Night

I'm bored. Well, the chickens are still alive. I went looking for them in the woods and found them, not too far, kicking back in some underbrush. They gave me the usual, "We're not dead, you big headed idiot, piss off and go pay attention to your family and loose the uni-brow it's not working for you", look. I splashed them with my coffee and went back to being driven bat-shit crazy by my children. Anyway, its almost nine, the girls are in bed and I'm going outside to make sure the hens are back in their house. Night time is the only time they will talk to me. I sit up against the shed, in the darkness, and have a conversation with them. I make this soft, "dook dook dook" sound ( in a whispering Miss Piggy, kind of way) and they quietly respond to me, which sometimes makes me cry.

Nap Time for the D.O.M.

Two hot pockets
Two devil dogs
Feeling a little nappish
Last two hens dead?
Maybe, haven't seen them
Not sure I give a crap
Back on the swine
Better to honor a pig
by eating it?

...On Becoming A Man

A man does not EVER call in sick because he feeling a little under the weather. You can consider yourself a man only when you go to work every day, and work like a madman for at least 8 hours. Staying home to mend your hemp bloomers is not an option. And when you are sick or broken in some way, no one wants to hear how you're feeling. We all get bumps and bruises (try being the D.O.M. 24/7). You don't get rewarded with a day off just because you threw up, you get a slap in the face because you're still a bitch. Men go to work every day, until they die. Fairies go to work when it suits them. Hurt yourself at work? Walk it off, maybe put your fist through something (living or dead). You don't sue someone because your too much of a weakling to take a little punishment. "Please pay me because I have a boo boo" is reserved for girls. I've had the privledge of watching real men go to chemotherapy in the morning and be back building houses after lunch, and loving it. Think about that next time you get the sniffles.

Stocks are low, now is the time to buy...

...bullets

Apple Pickin

It's just me and the twins. I'M thinking we should go apple/ pumpkin picking. Nothing manlier. Possibly hit a book store on the way home. Who knows what the day will bring. We're maniacs, anything's possible. Coffee? Sure. Happy Meals? Of course. Pottie stops? Most likely. We're going to kick open the doors to Borders screaming "Which way to the kids section, bitches." As long as we get back in time for my 2 hour nap.

End of the line

I'm at the end of my rope, and I'm glad. Maybe holding on to the stupid rope is what's is holding me back.

Two more days I'll never get back.

Spending two days with my six and a half year old twins HAS to cause brain damage. It would be much easier to spend the time at a punch myself in the face for two days festival. Or maybe a cut your own head off and play soccer with it till you drop contest. Or duct tape my hands to my sides, sprint down the middle of a busy street and giggle my way right into the front grill of a speeding bus(filled with children). I'm just glad Vicki is back. Oh, by the way, I got home from work on Friday and my McCain for President sign was torn off and tossed in the bushes. I almost burst into flames when I saw it. I just stood there, bug eyed, fists and teeth clenched, glaring at every car that drove by. I knew that they knew who did this. After fixing the sign, I spent the rest of the night watching the sign through my rifle scope.

How is this possible

Today I looked at the weather forcast for tommorow and it said "Clearing Sunday morning." Now it has a hurricane warning. If your job is predicting the weather, how do you go from clearing to hurricane in 8 hours? How can a hurricaine, that starts a thousand miles away traveling about 10 mph, sneak up on a New Hampshire weather man?

Good Mornin

Drinking coffee

Listening to Jazz

Kids doing homeschooling stuff (making thier own books)

Raining

Vicki and Taylor at Lowel Open Sudio's selling art

Wow, it took me a long time to put that live link in there

Not only is the universe stranger than we imagine, it is stranger than we can imagine.
- Sir Arthur Eddington

Happy Native American Day

Best wishes to all my Native American brothers and sisters. I only claim I'm a Native American if there aren't any real ones around to kick my ass. My Great Great Grandmother was a Miq Mac, born in Nova Scotia in 1864, so there is some truth to my claim. Anyway, Native American or not, all the Earth's creatures are brother and sister. More than that, we are one.

Italian Goodness

I almost got run over today. I was so excited about getting some pastry that I just flung open the door to my work van and sprinted across the street, ignoring all the oncoming cars. I pissed off a few people, but at the time nothing else mattered. At that moment, they could all not die fast enough for me. I just wanted some delicious Italian pastries. I got some nice goodies, I was even thoughtful enough to get some to bring home to my loving family. Of course when I got back in the van I ate the entire bag. I was eating so fast that I started to choke because I was inhaling the powdered sugar off of the desserts as I put them into my mouth. My crazy cousin wouldn't try any, he said he didn't eat sweets. It made me want to smash his face in.

Snapping Turtle Photo

Sunday Morning

I'm thinking of taking the girls apple picking today. To bring my own brand of justice to those......

Why do I constantly feel the need to bring my own brand of justice everywhere I go, and what does that even mean. And why do fellow apple pickers need justice, all they need are a few apples for a delicious pie (or maybe an apple fight).

Art Festival Part 2

I just got back, I had to bring the kids home and get the pickup truck and now I have to go back and load everything up. Not only did I not dole out any pain, but I think I joined some "Stop Global Warming" cult. Some young "dish" was walking around with a clipboard and made me sign some petition and give my name. I also volunteered to do, I don't know what. What a joke. Here I am agreeing with her, signing my life away, while in my brain I'M screaming, "There's no such thing as global warming, you whore".

Art Festival Update

OK, I just got back from the Concord Art Festival, to pick up my kids. I am so enraged, there are Obama supporters everywhere. Of course I pretended to be one of them, just to lull them into a false sense of security. I'm heading back now, and I'm bringing a big box of pain with me, which I will dole out when I get there.

Saturday plan

My wife has a big "Art in The Park" type deal going on in Concord this weekend. She will be selling art. I will be there, stomping hippies.

Pinnocio and Luigi

While playing around in my workshop my twins re-discovered the puppets I'd made
.

My Luigi is a big boy, he weighs about 20 pounds.

I really should finish his hands.

I had a turkey sandwich.

So what, a turkey is barely a life form. My appetite for flesh has been overwhelming. It must be all the killing I'm doing to feed my little baby turtle. I've given up digging for worms because I found some in the cooler at the local market(who knew). Anyway, for dinner I wanted to go to "Wendy's" for a triple cheeseburger but Vicki talked me into getting a sandwich at "Panera". I had the turkey sandwich, but I did tell them to hold the bacon. I don't eat pigs because it's a sin, and whoever eats them will surely rot in hell, where they belong.

Snapping Turtle Update

I spent most of today foraging for various grubs for my baby boy. My primordial hunting and motherly instincts are slowly coming back to me. I've been digging for earthworms all day, the yard is destroyed. So far I've found two. I tore apart a pile of old patio blocks, like a grizzly bear tearing apart a hillside looking for a woodchuck. At one point I saw a cricket and got so excited that I mashed it into dust with one of the blocks. My girls kept asking me "what are you doing Daddy", which pissed me off even more than I already was. Leonardo, noticing I was preoccupied, booked it out of the back yard and was heading for freedom. Luckily I caught sight of him just as he making his way through the fence. As I ran after him I said to myself, "No one escapes from the Island of Doctor Moreau".

I took a life today....

... to feed my newborn son. Little M.C. was in need of some nourishment so I went in the yard and kilt him up a grasshopper. It was more of a holy experience. A holy experiecne where something gets crushed against the fence. I might add that it didn't totally displease me.

Darkness

I'm all alone. It's just me and this brain crushing silence. The kids are away, my wife is upstairs trying to pretend she lives alone. The clouds in my brain are clearing and I notice that it's raining outside. How long I've been sitting here, I can't say. I hear the sound of someone or something walking around, outside my window. I care not. I swear the ice cream in the freezer is trying to communicate with me. No food after dark. It gives me nightmares.

?

Glass of wine and a "circus freakshow" sized cupcake for dessert.

I count the maple in maplewalnut frosting as a vegetable. It comes from a tree that comes from the ground,dummy.

I weighed Leo the tortoise today, 17 pounds.

I may write myself in for president.

I think I may vomit.

"They" are watching some slasher horror movie.(makes me sick)

I'm drawing a bath.

Full moons give me the "night crazies"

Willie Nelson is above the law.

Might eat the last cupcake.

Veggie Update

My wife brought me home fried chicken, I asked her to but was pissed off when she did. I haven't had meat in a while. I'm pretty sure I will be classifying chicken as a vegetable real soon, but for now I remain strong, with beans and rice cooking on the stove. Swine will never be a vegetable to me.

MC and Leo

I can't believe the maternal instincts of my male African Sucata tortoise. He has already become a serogate mother to little "M.C."

Snapping Turtle Hatchling

Another of the wild creatures has sought refuge in my light of shining goodness. Little "MC", sensing my love of all the living, came walking up to me while I was standing in my driveway(pondering my goodness). I was busy, checking my reflection in the window, when I felt a scratching on my foot. Before even looking down, the huge smile on my face told me that a little tiny baby turtle was asking me for help. What amazes me is how they know that I'm the one.

Newest Family Member-"M.C. Cain"

Another Raven Drawing

I thought about eating a mosquito today.

It's Not Easy Being Me

Well, I've got my orange herbal tea going and my banjo around my neck. I'm practicing the kindergarten version of "Will The Circle Be Unbroken", I almost have it down. I spent most of the afternoon mowing the stupid lawn. Still haven't had any meat, except fish, in over a week. We went out to the "Common Man" in Concord last night and I had a nice broiled haddock. The highlight of dinner was when the bill came, Vicki opens her wallet and hands me some money and says "Here you can pay for dinner". So that made me feel good about myself. Then on the way out she handed me a buck, to tip the valet guy. Its fine because, in my mind, I stabbed her in the eye with my imaginary cigarette.

I'm Happy

I get to go out and be around big people tonight, I'll keep you posted. It takes me awile to adjust to being near adults. Its kind of like I'm Cornelius from the Planet of the Apes and I just arrived from some time machine. Lots of staring, laughing and eating bugs out of Vicki's hair. Maybe we'll go see the "Water Guy". Anyway, I have go and wash off my stink, she'll be home soon.

Midday

Four cups of coffee so far, I feel invincible. Meat is what pansies eat. I go out in the woods and graze, just like the forest creatures. Just drop down on the ground an start gnawing. Just think, eating stuff that grows in the ground, it's like you're eating the planet. The twins and I are going to venture out into society in a bit. We go into stores and pretend we're invisible, then we knock stuff off of the shelves in front of people. We then start laughing uncontrollably, because they can't see us. It works great at the book store. Vicki gave me a bunch of errands to run, like I'm some bitched up flunky born to serve her.

Still No Meat

I've been doing some deep thinking. My whole sentient beings shouldn't be gnawed on theory might have a flaw in it. If the animal is already dead, is it still a sentient being? Does it still have any rights? Should I just let the meat rot? What a waste of life. I get that , as a beacon of light, I shouldn't go around stomping on earthworms. But if I happen upon an already dead worm, who am I harming by reaching down and plopping the little fella in my mouth? As for eating chicken, not only is the chicken dead already, but most likely it's already cooked. It would be an insult to this beautiful little bird, kind of like saying "you're not good enough to eat". This is going to need more thought. I still don't buy the argument that God put these animals on Earth for our own pleasure. What about the animals that dine on us, the sharks, the crocodiles, the elephants, are we put here to be their dinner? Oh, that reminds me, when I die, I want my ashes sprinkled on a rotting buffalo carcass, deep in the Yellowstone back country. This way a hungry Griz eats me, and my spirit melds with the great bear.

Still at it

I have no idea how many days it's been since I ate meat, all I know is there's no meat in ice cream, and that's all that matters at the moment. I've been thinking about the whole fish doesn't count as meat thing. I guess a fish has a right to live as much as anything else. A tuna certainly has as much right to live as a dolphin. I wonder if I can find tuna that isn't dolphin safe, because that's hypocritical bullshit. "Dolphin Safe",that's like something Hitler would do. What gives dolphins the right to live over tuna, the same rules should apply to them both. It could be that dolphins taste like crap, I don't know. I was also thinking about just not eating pigs, Vicki talked me out of that. Too soon to give up. Today I was thinking that I could get away with eating turkey sausages, but turkeys are animals as well. I was also trying to convince myself that if I kill and eat my own chickens that it wouldn't count, because I love them so much and making such a sacrifice would cancel out the negative karma of eating a family pet. I think that's right out of the bible. God asked one of his disciples to kill and eat his all his pets, to prove his loyalty.

Slipping Away

I'm just sitting here, waiting for Vicki to get home, clicking an empty pistol pressed against my head. Been with the twins all day. Hiking and pine cone/stick collecting in the morning, gluing the pine cones and sticks into silly puppets in the afternoon, driving my nuts the rest of the day. I missed the entire Jerry Lewis Telethon because of them. I had some falafel for dinner, no meat since Thursday. I'm tired.

The Hills Are Alive

Stepped in some chicken crap earlier, with bare feet, smells a bit. Wrapping up day three with no meat. Had to pass up some delicious sausage and meatballs at my Mom's house. I wanted to cry. I'm still not counting fish as meat. I'm watching the Sound of Music and lip syncing to Julie Andrews. So what. If you're the definition of manliness, you do what pleases you.

Cowboys like smokey old pool rooms...

Ah, working in my workshop, a little Willie Nel-Nel playing, a good cup of coffee. I've been building some portable walls to display my wife's art at an upcoming art show she's in. The walls are made of 1/2 inch electrical conduit, welded together to make a frame, and some screen welded to that. Welding galvanized pipe is highly toxic, which adds a little spice to the project. I think its the burning zinc that's the problem. I've welded up one section of wall, I'll do the rest of the welding outside, so I don't die. I have all the pieces cut, using my drill press to get tight fitting joints. My feet have lots of little burn marks in them from welding with sandals on. Its a wonderful day to be alive.

S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y Night

Once again, all is quiet. June has her strap around my neck. June, she's waiting, the little vixen. Too quiet though, when she gets going she can get a little loud. Our bellies softly touching. Maybe if I stroke her gently Vicki wont hear us. Softness doesn't work with her. I thrash her violently, Vicki screams at me from upstairs. "Enough with the f-ing banjo, ya weirdo". That ends that. I had fish and chips for dinner tonight, so day 2 is a meatless one.

Fish is not meat, besides is there anything dumber than a fish? So, we have established that I can eat fish. Be back later.

Really bad meat withdrawals today. Terrible headache. Can't talk now.

The D.O.M. Gives up Meat: Day 1

No more dining on the souls of the furry. This is NOT for health reasons. It's just that I'm sick of hearing(in my head but just as real) the screaming of the tortured suffering animals, as I gnaw on their flesh. I had chicken wings yesterday(delicious, by the way), and I realized that I was eating someones arm. HELLO, I ate both of a chicken's arms. Someone raised a chicken, just so I could eat its arms. Today was day one, no animals were killed in feeding me today. Today I ate a multi grain bagel with cream cheese for breakfast, 3 slices of cheese pizza for lunch and homemade macs and cheese for dinner. Obviously, I wont be living that long eating cheese at every meal. I'll have to work on that. I do hate vegetables.

D.O.M. on the Santa's Village train

Vacation: conclusion

We arrived home around 2pm. Stopped in Lincoln and did a nice little hike along the Pemigewasett river. Long day, with lots of driving. I'm glad to be back. Nice trip overall, the kids had fun.

Vaction: continued, in the field

Sunday 5pm
Exhausting ride up to the hotel. My wife and I couldn't hate each other more. Living is pointless. We just got in from shopping in North Conway. "They" are playing some Colorform game on the bed. I'm sitting in the corner with my back to the window and feet up on a chair. Iced coffee(my only friend in the world) sits by my side. I had a hot dog with bacon and cheese for lunch. It was fantastic. I'm thinking of sleeping in the bathtub like John Lennon in "Norwegian Wood". They sell clam chowder next door. I wish my family was a sniper rifle. I should have brought my banjo. Swine is the only meat I dig. It's funny because it's the only animal I have empathy for. While pumping gas a few years back, a hog on its way to slaughter called out to me, as it drove by in the back of a pick up truck. Kind of a wee wee wee sound as it passed me. To me it translated into, " I don't want to die, do something D.O.M". OK, now I have to go get them Wendy's.

Monday 7pm
Tension eased up from yesterday. We are winding down in the hotel room. This morning's breakfast had a Katrina disaster victim feel to it. It was "served" buffet style, in what looked like a make-shift relief center. The food was set up on tables on one side and a bunch of folding tables with not nearly enough chairs to go around. Lots of parents just milling around drinking coffee while children and the elderly sat and ate their cereal. No hotel staff to be seen,just a couple of hobos who kept the coffee and bagels coming. I was half expecting a spokesman from F.E.M.A. to come in with some kind of de-briefing. Good coffee though. Storyland was OK, I got to ride on a train. The kids liked it too. At dinner tonight we all stormed out of a restaurant before our dinner arrived because they had no diet Coke and Vicki lost it. We had a Mickey D picnic back at the hotel. I felt that I had a better grasp of reality today.

Tuesday

Slept on floor, to shut family up. Went to Santa's Village. Absolute highlight of the trip(maybe the year!) was when this annoying little girl, could not have been more than two, smacked her head on some cement stairs and started crying. I was behind the little beast for a half an hour, her mother let her run all over the place. She had a, isnt my daughter so cute as she tears appart your stuff attitude. After she bashed her head, her Mom picked her up. The little girl was rubbing her ear and crying. I was grining ear to ear with the biggest smile, looking right at the mother. It was all I could do to keep from laughing. I wish I had a megaphone so I could laugh right in the girls crying face.

D.O.M. Portrait

The Calm Before the Storm.

Still quiet, people running around getting ready. Do we really want to do this? I'm sitting here, trying to learn "Will the Circle Be Unbroken", on the banjo. Taking a little break. Some idiot just flew by the house in one of those go-cart parachute airplanes. I told them it was Mary Poppins.

Vacation: Day 2

What's it do to your brain to be constantly in the company of two six year old girls? They view me as their own personal Jerry Lewis. What are we gonna do now? Do something silly. Go run into that tree again. I'm hungry. Put on a puppet show. Put that chicken down. What would be great is, if I had one of those circus cannons. I could escape by getting in it and shooting myself into the forest. "Hold that thought girls, let me just climb in here". Then, BLAM, see ya. Giving them the finger as I rocket to certain doom. Then there's the up coming trip to Storyland, it's looming over me, like a five hundred foot Charles Nelson Reiley. He has a gift for me. Madness. Maybe that's what I need. Embrace the inevitable.

Missy the Chicken

Leo , The African Sulcata

Sushi Drawing (Our dog)

Developing Story

I got one of the chickens to eat out of my mouth!

Vacation: Day 1

Boy it's quiet. They're all upstairs, either sleeping or reading. Electrocuted myself at my sister's house earlier, like I've done hundreds of times before. Nothing else even comes close to that feeling. It actually makes me stronger. Anyway, today I found out that a mouse I was trying to make friends with passed away. Taylor found it in the chicken food bin, dead. I was planning on catching it. Shit, I'm starting to cry again(no I'M not, I never cry. Yes you do, you cried when Elvis died, and at the end of True Grit when the Big Duke shoots it out with Lucky Ned Pepper). Also made friends(real friends) with a spider that is setting up shop on my bulkhead stairs. Pretty big spider. You can tell a spider almost anything, great listeners, not like my human wife. I caught Leo, the giant tortoise, eating fox crap today. I think it's OK for them to eat such things. When he was done, I put him back in his pen and tossed him a zucchini from the garden. He devoured that as well. I'M a little worried about the upcoming vacation with the family. It's been only one day and I can feel myself turning. Lots of babbling in my head. They sent me to Pizza Hut to get food and I actually said out loud while driving, "Please God, let me get into a fistfight here." Actually I say that whenever I go to any place where there are people. You know what, that's not true. I love all living beings. And for that matter, it may be true, because swapping fist sandwiches with someone doesn't have to be about hate. Just a bit of unconventional fun. Besides I only pummel people in my head, for my own amusement. What is the point of all this, I know not. Might have something to do with the two hour nap I had today.

Vacation: Hour 1

Hour 1 of my vacation. Already bored. I have the next six days off. Trying to get the chickens to come in the house. They're having no part of it. Thinking of making another cup of coffee. I've had too much today already. Could that last sentence be any more UN-American? Pardon me while I go Keurig myself another cup. OK, I'm back. If you don't know what Keurig is, it's the official coffee maker of The Doctor of Manliness. If you don't have one, consider yourself sickening. I've got to go out in the workshop to cut some wood for Verde to paint on. Bare foot and shirtless, Tom Jones cranking, table saw shredding lumber, caffeine rage, covered in a cloud of sawdust, and loving it.

The D.O.M. Roadshow

So today I found out that I get to spend my last few vacation days, of the year, at Storyland, with the fam. Oh gee, can I really? I wish I knew someone who could shoot a cannonball into my belly. How about I spend a few days by myself in the woods, go on a little vision quest. Starve myself, get naked and chain myself to a tree. Maybe getting into a drunken fistfight with a thorn bush. After a few days, come crashing out of the woods and sprint right into an oncoming Greyhound bus. No, I'm sure I'll be fine, Storyland will be fantastic. I'll make it so, me, my huge arms and sledgehammer fists.

Sunday With The D.O.M.

I'm at an antique shop this afternoon, on the hunt for some manly goodies. The items I covet the most are canes, banjos, any kind of puppet, pipes, straight razors and, any and all things Bozo. I'll wet myself if I see anything with the Fonz on it. I want to find a vintage pipe, so I can start smoking. I also love the smell of old stuff. Anyway, the two owners were bickering with each other, which I found very entertaining. I was half listening to them and half day dreaming when all of a sudden an older gentleman with one of those electronic voice boxes comes in and starts talking. I almost crapped myself I was so scared. I frantically looked around for Vicki. The bitch was nowhere to be seen, probably watching me from a hidden location and getting a good laugh. He was between me and the door, I thought about crashing through the window. What would the Fonz do? I crouched down around some furniture and ducked through a side door before he could see me. That was close. Back to the mission. I found my wife who was carrying some stupid metal birdbath, that she just had to have. I found a pig marionette, but I couldn't get it to work. I also found a Captain Kirk doll, that was the balls, but Vicki said no. I hate her.

The Water Guy(Ghost Dog) continued.

So I pretend to take a sip from my water, for the fourth time. I notice the guy at the next table is staring at me. Does he know I'm not really drinking water? I'm just trying to get the water guys attention, so he will come over and check my glass, only to find that it's still full. Vicki is next to me babbling away. The water guy has filled up my glass twice already. There are actually two of them, it looks like Ghost Dog (my nemesis) is training a new guy. My trick hasn't worked, so I take a real sip. Vicki keeps interrupting me. Ghost Dog comes out and like a blur that no one else sees, but me, he tops off everyone in the room's water glass but mine. I want to pound my fist into his face. MY WATER NEEDS TO BE REFRESHED OVER HERE, HELLO! Five minutes later the rookie comes by and tops off my water, which I immediately drink. I watch the rookie leave the room, I turn to reach for the water and Ghost Dog has just filled it again. Is this all going on in my head, or do we really have some kind of game going on here. It's real to me, and that's all that matters.

We got tom toms

I was out "weeding" the "World Manliness Headquarters" garden and I noticed that we have some tom toms sprouting. I was just about to rip the weed out of the ground when I noticed a couple of baby tomatoes on it, so I cleared all the other weeds around it. This is the first time, since planting, that I have done anything except watering. I buffed up the weeds around the zucchini and carrots as well. All the pulled weeds got tossed into Leo, the African Sulcatta's pen(that pig will eat anything including excrement).

Ice Cream

I just dished out a Jethro Bodine sized bowl of ice cream. I dropped a scoop on the kitchen floor. I looked at it and thought long and hard about leaving it there, then I picked it up, looked at it again, then shoved it into my mouth and ate it. Edys French Silk, half the fat, so you can eat twice as much. Its bad karma to waste good ice cream, that my friends is in the Bible. Look it up.

Keurig Coffee

Just ate 3 cookies-feel sick.
Must kill the rodent(need to keep wife happy).
I think she just wants to see if she can make me kill something.
I have to go out in the yard for some quality turtle time.
This coffee is good, makes me clench my teeth(jaw hurts).
Taylor still has her pajamas on(5:14pm).
May start smoking cigarettes.
I might have to do dobbies(poops).
Later, screwballs.

Squirrel Repeller

Back to the Drawing Board

Squirrel Problem: Solved!

Installed a little dome to keep the sqirrel away.

Glasses

I got my bifocals today. I need to stab myself in the chest.

Saturday Night

So I spent tonight at a fashion show at an art gallery. My wife and a bunch of other artists were modeling some wearable art made by an artist in the old mill building that houses 150 plus artist studios. Here I was, a guy who was put on this earth to destroy things, crush little bunnies, fight monsters on remote islands, lots of stuff, Evel Knievel type stuff. Where was I going with this, oh, so I'm sitting here with a bunch of quilt loving old ladies mixed in with the cast from one flew over the cuckoos nest, sipping white wine and snacking on mini powdered doughnuts on a Saturday night. Saturday night! I should be out pounding bad guys with my cinderblock- like fists.

The Dalai Lama of Manliness

Vintage photo, boating (raiding lobster traps and drinking) with my late father Tony and brother Tom in back. The arm steering the boat is attached to Siggy, who was deemed too violent to join the Marines in 1961.

OIympic Rant

I heard on the news that a bunch of Americans were protesting in China, and they were deported. I have a great idea. How's this, get a job and start paying taxes, creeps. You're a guest in a foreign country,Bitch. Protest by showing some class, lead by example. This is about the athletes, it's not about how wonderful you are. I love it when some hempster boards a whaling vessel out at sea, jumping up and down, getting in the face of some fisherman who is just trying to make a living so he can feed his family. When the kid gets pummeled by the crew, there is a big uproar. "Hey did you see that, he hit me". He hit you? How about he lobs your head off and boots it into the ocean for boarding his vessel. Again, go get a job and start paying taxes. By the way, no living creature has any more right to live than any other living being. A spider has as much right to live as a whale, or anything else for that matter. How about creating an industry that will put the Japanese fishermen to work that doesn't involve whaling. Another by the way, whaling is about the manliest job in the history of humankind. It's not my bag but I'm not going to judge a culture that's been around for centuries, just because I want to put off becoming an adult. You people think, by pooping on the Olympic athlete's day in the sun, you are going to change whats going on in Africa? Want to solve the Darfur problem? Go there and start protesting. Didn't think so.

Harvesting Carrots

The fam. harvested some carrots today. Not quite what I expected, but hey, I'm off the grid. Well, not quite, I havent found any cheese doodle seeds, so I'm stuck buying them at the market. We got two eggs today. Both of them were found in the bottom compartment of the barbeque. I think the other chicken is laying her's in the woods. I need some more hens. I just had a thought. Turtle eggs! Turtle f-ing eggs! It's the last piece of the puzzle, my eyes are welling up. I need a female tortoise. I'll eat the eggs. Everybody will. They lay like 100 at a time. She can not refuse this logic, it's flawless. The chickens can go to hell. So can you, and anyone else that tries to stop me. I'm the D.O.M.

OK, Enough Already

I am sick of the whining sissy athletes complaining about the smog in China. The American "cyclists" showed up wearing black respiratory masks. You know what? Go home you big babies. You disgust me. Take your little protest masks off and run your stupid race. Oh, and make sure you give a good tip to the 90 year old chain smoking woman that ran you, in the smog, 20 miles in a ricksahw,up hill, to your hotel.

More finches!

She got two more finches today. So we have four finches, two chickens, one chinchilla, two tortoises, and a dog. Oh, and three girls. I think my mind jumped off at the last stop on the Doctor of Manliness express. I wont admit it to my wife but I couldn't love anything more than I love those peeping little sweetie pies. She keeps catching me talking to them, in bird language of course. I don't know what it is , but all the wild things form an instant bond with me. I don't know where this came from but I just had a thought that the birds would like to be clapped between two cymbals. Thoughts like that come and go, all day long.

Finches?

My wife is on a bird kick. She just got two little finches and wants more. I can't have a woodchuck, but she can bring these filthy scumbags into my bedroom. Tweeting and chirping, it makes me want to wretch. They're not even real birds, it's like, if our dog was a bird it would be a finch. The Doctor of Manliness has finches now. I have to go slap myself in the face. I can hear them as we speak, they sound more like a cricket than a bird. I'm like this great statue made of granite, muscle and twisted steel, and everywhere and everyone around me is chipping away at my manliness. My wife gets finches, my doctor turns himself into a woman, I'm a four-eyes who needs bifocals, I sold my motorcycle, I used to go ice climbing now I go antiquing and as I look now, out the window, I see my tortoise destroying my garden. Oh and I have a garden.

Friday

Crumpling my glasses in a ball and throwing them in the trash at Papa Gino's, I now realize, was a mistake. My new glasses wont be here for two weeks.

Breaking News

OK, today I found out that my former doctor had himself changed into a woman. What exactly does this mean? Just because this guy did stuff to me that would make a billy goat puke, doesn't mean anything. He was my doctor. It was all on the up and up, doctor patient stuff. I mean, can I, or should I call him a freak. MY DOCTOR HAD A SEX CHANGE, PEOPLE! Does he have boobies now? Does that mean he was/is gay? And what does THAT mean? Was I molested? No, he is just a cool bug eyed doc who wants to be a woman, lets all move on. I wish him/her well.

The Water Guy.

I have this little cat and mouse thing going with the water guy at our favorite Chinese restaurant. We call the guy, Ghost Dog, because most of the time he refills your glass without you seeing him. Of course I drink a crazy amount of water, to make him keep coming back to our table. Even if I take a little sip he will come out from where ever he's hiding and top off my glass. This is no lie, my water glass was less than an inch from the top, Ghost Dog no where to be seen, I had just taken a baby sip. He comes out from the kitchen, halfway across the restaurant, passed about 15 tables, heads straight for my glass and fills it, then turned around and headed back into the kitchen, not stopping. How did he know? And he fills the glass so fast, if you blink you will miss it. He whips the glass off the table and whips it right back in the same spot. I watched the water in the glass as he put it down, it didn't move. A true master. He filled my glass at least 10 times. When the waiter put our leftovers in a bag, it blocked his view, he kept coming out from the kitchen to check on my glass but couldn't see it. I just smiled at him from across the restaurant, it must have made him mad. Don't get me wrong here, this man, I hold in high regard. He takes his job very seriously and it's a joy to watch such mastery. A job seemingly so simple he turns into an art. He is more like a mexican zen tea master than the water guy.

Bifocals

That last post was a little strange. Anyway, I got a coupon in the mail from my insurance company to get free eyeglasses from Sears. So I went today and, after the $60 eye exam, I paid $270 for my free glasses( that I'll get 3 to 14 days from now). I also found out I need bifocals. When the girl told me how much I had to pay, I punched her in the face(in my head) and started trashing the place like a gorilla in a luggage commercial(again, in my head). The D.O.M. has to wear bifocals, I'm starting to make myself sick.

Living off the land.

I just ate some zucchini, grown right here at "World Manliness Headquarters". I grew it out of the ground from a seed. From a stupid little seed, you freak show, comes a basket of wonder like I have never seen. Does it make me a farmer? Some would say yes. Does it make me better than you. That doesn't matter, don't measure yourself against my greatness! I don't have a carbon footprint. My tracks are like little hugs for the planet. I just took a shower with water heated from the sun. The SUN, the center of God's holy universe. I bathe in the sweet goodness of the suns love. After a shower I feel like I can put my fist of love right through a rhino's head.

Sunday Afternoon

Vicki and Taylor are down at the Folk Festival, doing really well selling paintings. I'm up here with the twins. We just picked some green beans and zucchini from the garden and will soon feast on our bounty. Mentally all done, want to jump off a building(or maybe just the shed).

Lowell Folk Festival

The Lowell Folk Festival begins today. Very exciting. Vicki(Art By Verde) will have a tent set up in the "Art In The Park" section of the festival. It starts tonight and runs through Sunday. The group Peter, Paul and Mary will be selling some of Vicki's paintings( no they wont). I'm covered in my sick kids vomit, but as soon as my hemp underwear comes out of the wash and I finish making this daisy headband I'll be heading down to infiltrate the freak show.

Getting "The Fear"

I'm in line at the pharmacy tonight, my sick daughter(six, and almost 40 lbs) in my arms. I've been holding her for a half an hour and my arm is starting to burn. They finally call my name. As I step up to pay, with one hand I get my wallet, and dig out the credit card, still holding my daughter with my other arm. She starts to vomit on my back and shoulders and I proceed with swiping the card, signing in two different places answering questions. Line of people behind me. I start to sweat, I can feel it running down the side of my face. Still being vomited on, I notice that the pharmacist has been talking to me. I can see his lips moving, he's right next to the cashier, three feet from me, but I hear no sound coming out of his mouth. I stretch my neck and kind of bug my eyes out and try to focus on him, girl still choking. All I hear is, blah blitty blah blah, something every eight hours, then nothing again. I feel like I'm burning up, cashier looks at me then takes the stylus out of my hand and clicks the final yes button on the credit card machine. I grab the meds, they say thank you,I say nothing. I walk out screaming at the top of my lungs(in my head). I think I just had my first anxiety attack

By the way....

My wife and I saw my tortoises giant "package" the other day. It was awful, he's hung like Shaquile Oneil. I don't know what was going on with him. I was looking out my back window, and there was Leo, in his pen. He looked like he was mounting an imaginary mate. He was frozen in this position, the rear part of his shell was touching the ground and his front legs and neck were stretched upward, like he was trying to look over the fence. We ran out to see what was the matter with him. When I picked him up, BAM, there it was. I got a rear view,(which was horrible enough) but Vicki got the full frontal view. We both walked away, like we just witnessed some fatal car wreck. We found a safe corner and hugged. By the way, his thing disappeared after I put him down.

Time is Near

Its been a week since I received my, "Kill the Squirrel" orders. I've been brooding over this dilemma day and night, the seed for killing, that I thought was buried for good, has started to grow again. Once again the thirst for the kill calls me. Its building like a great volcano that's about to erupt, no way of knowing exactly when. The squirrel must and will die, at my hands(which are like steel vices). My plan is to burst out of my house at blinding speed, the horror and quickness of my attack should stun the rodent just long enough for me to reach him. I will have to leap a good 8 feet into the air to snatch him, so I'll have to set up a small trampoline at the base of the feeder. Once I have the little bugger it will just a matter of tearing his cute little body to pieces.

Pie

My baby made me a blueberry pie today. She made it with her own sweet little hands. Fresh picked blueberries(when she uses frozen blueberries I mash her face in it), I just ate a giant piece with whipped cream. Very enjoyable, I wept a baby bit, at its wonderfulness. I cry a lot, so what, mostly when food is involved, or a good Duke Wayne movie. If I even think of "The Ballad of the Green Berets" I start to get welled up. I cry when I'm kicking someones ass. Anyway, that was some good pie.

Just a Thought

Why do all men who ride a bicycle have to wear a spandex Lance Armstrong costume? Because they are perverts. Men should only wear spandex when they are home, alone (and just a little drunk).

Pesky Critter

Thinking of getting a pygmy goat or some more chickens. I could get fresh milk from the goat. Having a goat around here might just be the missing ingredient. Vicki has instructed me to kill the squirrel that is stealing all the bird seed. I may have too. She keeps chasing it and pelting the poor little guy with rocks. Crushing its tiny little head may be my only option, I think we (the squirrel and I) would both be better off. Is it possible that the five hundred different birds we have out there could be eating some of the seeds? Well, before killing the little guy, I have raised the feeder to 10 feet, this way the squirrel cant get at it, and neither can my wife. It's a win, win deal. I don't have to crush a squirrel with a boulder, breaking my vow to love all sentient beings, although I would be killing out of love, so that may exempt me from some kind of bad karma deal. Where was I, oh, so I think this will solve the problem of Vicki. What? I started this babble, talking about my new goat. How do you milk a goat with out touching their scievey nipples. I like goat cheese. So tomorrow, I open the squirrel's back with a rake, just to prove my devotion to my wife.

Muldrow Glacier with Denali in the background

Dig the color co-ordinated outfit, with the old school Norm Abrahm wool shirt.

Umbrellas And Acting Like A Man

I actually saw a man holding an umbrella today. A man must never, ever hold an umbrella, unless its for a woman(and still don't get under it). Only women and babies use umbrellas. Also, when walking in the rain, don't crouch down and scurry along terrified that a little drop of water is going to kill you. To walk properly in the rain you walk slowly, just taking a little stroll. "Oh, it's raining?" "I hadn't noticed." A little extra bonus would be, if it's pouring out, stop and tie your shoe. Maybe lean up against a building and read the paper. The only exception to this rule is, if you need to stab someone and there happens to be an umbrella handy, like in the hand of the person that needs stabbing, then by all means use it.

I just took a shower with water heated from the sun. Check Mate, bitches.

I have been reading Tim Russert's book "Big Russ and me". Prompted by the death of Tim and by liking his other book, "Wisdom of Our Fathers" so much. Also having lost my father recently, I was looking forward to Tim recount some tales of his father. I was deeply affected by the death of Mr. Russert, he was a great American, no , he was a great human. I'm about 3/4 of the way through the book. Dullest book ever. The stories of my father's youth were just a tad more colorful. The last time I saw my Dad alive he was at my kitchen table and, out of the blue, told me of how someone let him borrow their car and he wouldn't give it back, so the guy hired Joe "The Animal" Barboza to get it back. When I asked him what happened, he just smirked and said he talked his way out of it and kept the car, which was stolen in the first place. Another story that comes to mind is about the guy Charlie "The Crow" or "Two Gun" Charlie. He seemed kind of a hero to my Dad, anyway Charlie wanted my Dad to go on a bank robbery with him, but he didn't want to go. "Two Gun" Charlie ended up being killed by the cops that day. My Dad said that the cops had set him up somehow.
Another time my father was recounting a particularly memorable arrest. The police cordoned off a city block in East Boston and there were like a hundred cops with guns drawn, he had machine guns pointed at him, I forget what the crime was, usually he would tell me it was mistaken identity. Anyway, I haven't gotten to that part in "Big Russ and Me" yet.

Leonardo

My Hen is missing

Its been nearly a week since one of my hens went missing. Its taken me until now to be able to talk about it. This was Ruben's only daughter. For those of you who don't know who Ruben is, you can read about him in some earlier posts. He was my son. To say he was a bad ass, never mind this isn't about him. But he would have torn your eyes out if you even looked at me the wrong way. Anyway, my bird is gone and I look for her every night, hoping she comes back to me. Most likely a fox or coyote got her,or maybe the tortoise, he's as big as a Prius. So tonight, sitting on my back steps I had a little confab with the remaining two hens. They were at my feet pecking mindlessly at the dirt. With my mind , I tried to get into their little heads. I figured if I concentrated hard enough, focusing on their skulls, I could find out any information they might have on what happened to Ruben's daughter. I stared at them, trying to mind meld with them, to no avail, I might as well have been staring at a couple of balloons. I do love them though. Looking at their little wings and legs, it makes me sick to think that people actually eat these beautiful creatures. I would become a vegetarian in a minute if vegetables and vegetarians didn't make me sick.

Todays Assignment

Spongebob painting

My neice asked me to paint her something inspirational for their new family workout room.

Dinner with the Mental Defective League

I went out to dinner with Vicki, on our 8Th anniversary. It was looking to be a nice quiet dinner when all of a sudden, JACKPOT!, a mental defective freak show of a family was seated next to us. Vicki had her back to them but I had a full view. There were two families on vacation. A party of thirteen. There were two younger couples(early twenties), and by far, the most normal of the group. They didn't say much. The rest of the "crew" were couples from about 55-95 years of age. The oldest, a James Arness/Marshal Dillon lookalike, sat at the head of the table. The gentleman sitting to his left was in his mid-nineties and had on a yellow t-shirt with STAFF written on the back. His belt, I am not exaggerating was just under his armpits. I call him "Ace". Facing "Ace", on Marshal Dillon's right was "He who laughs like a woman", he babbled almost incoherently throughout the whole dinner and he would brake out into the loudest Nathan Lane laugh at just about every joke he told, and his jokes lasted about 10 minutes and made no sense. So, right off the bat, as soon as they were seated, a waitress was carrying some steaks to a nearby table. Marshal Dillon, upon seeing a steak for the first time in his life, gets up and leans over OUR table to get a closer look at the steak that has landed on the table behind us. At first he was glaring at the steak, like it offended him in some way, then as he started to back off, he caught me staring at him and he gave me a very "That steak looks delicious" nod, and started to go back to his seat, only he turned away and headed off at the last second. I watched him walk away, then open the bathroom door, close it without going in, the disappear around the corner. He came back with a giant plate of cheese and crackers, sat down and started to gnaw. "Ace" just sat there with his head sticking out of his his waist. I think he was the muscle of the group, probably stormed the beaches at Normandy. "He who laughs like a woman" also giggled himself to the cheese and crackers. Just as he sat down, a waitress was walking by with a tray full of huge ice cream sundaes, at the sight of this, the whole table got really excited, they were like a bunch of monkeys, all bouncing up and down in their chairs, pointing to the ice cream and chattering amongst themselves, I half expected them to start eating bugs out of each others hair. The Nathan Lane laughter echoed throughout the restaurant. Before ordering dinner, Marshal Dillon asked for separate checks. Then they ordered dinner. "Is it clam season"?
"What's a potato"? "My napkin tastes funny" They got their food just as we were finishing our desert.