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.