Adventures While Camping at The Gorge (Part One)

During the last week of September, I took off with my friend, Steve and went to Red River Gorge, which is located in east-central Kentucky in the Daniel Boone National Forest. We spent a week, there, thoroughly enjoying the quiet and serenity.

There are more than 100 natural sandstone arches and bridges in this canyon system full of waterfalls and rock cliffs. The beautiful wild flowers, mountains and valleys and unique plants only to this area can take your breath away and fill you with a force that is powerful and peaceful.

Many come to this place for the ultimate in relaxation therapy which entails nothing more than walking about the land, hiking the multitude of easy and challenging trails while taking in the inspiring sights of a full blue sky, a strong river and an endless sea of flora.

Our first day there wasn't awful. It was inconvenient. It rained before we got there and four more hours after we arrived.

Luckily, an insane man happened our way, at Koomer Ridge Campground, that sits inside The Gorge area. We were looking for a spot to pitch our tents. The dude had a scraggly beard on his narrow, well worn, leathery face and he more than slightly reminded me of Charles Manson.

The guy drove a small white truck that appeared as though somebody cruelly chopped it's ass off with a skyscraper-sized butcher knife. Hard thing to describe- this truck. A definite fail on the design. I took a picture of it at one point during the trip. Here ya go-

See that poor white thing in the middle of the picture with it's ass cut off? Yeah, that's it. It's not me I was talking about. Although some have said I am lacking in the ass department while there are others that just rave about my beautiful ass. Must be the curly auburn hair and two little dimples that are scattered about the landscape of my bottom. Oops. Just farted. Oh, and the delicate aromas wafting outwards, so I've heard, have been voted for the People's Choice Award.

No applause, please.

The guy pulled up alongside our brown pickup truck and made it look like we were riding in Mechagodzilla, our first day there.

Fortunately, their chaperon didn't interfere.

While the rain poured and "Charles Manson" spoke, we couldn't help but notice there were six tall white buckets, in the back of his "truck" that had flames rising up around 6 inches from the top of the buckets. On closer inspection, looking down and to the right, we saw that he was carrying burning wood in those buckets that were only inches away behind his seat.

We said to him, breaking into his rambling, almost in unison, "Did you know you're on fire?"

He nodded, casually and then said, "Oh yeahhhh, that's just the firewood I picked up and put in my arms in a bundle from a few camp sites down the road here. Then I put 'em into the buckets."

We were still looking at him in confusion for 3 reasons. One, it's pouring down rain like a mothertrucker and the wood is going to be thoroughly soaked, extinguishing the flames in a short period of time. Two, YOU PICKED UP FLAME-ENGULFED LOGS? And three, why would you put them in plastic buckets in the very near vicinity of the back of your small freakish truck? Ah, I can't forget the fourth one... Wouldn't it have been less difficult to completely put out the firewood before grabbing onto it?

As if in response to our confusion, he told us he was the campground host. I knew what that meant but it didn't really explain things. His job, as campground host, is to look after and clean up the campground facilities and answer questions people might have about the overlooks and scenic points at Red River Gorge and assist us in any directions and rules, pertaining to the Koomer Ridge campground.

We chuckled nervously and let the thing about the fire pass. It was his business whether he carried fire in plastic buckets in the back of his short shitty truck. I just wanted to move along, in case there was an explosion. We asked him where was the best double occupancy campsite that would enable both of us to put our tents on. The grizzled host told us what we wanted to know and we rushed away and not until we were far enough down the road, did we laugh at his expense. The guy actually seemed friendly enough and not once did he sneak into our camp site and cut off my head. So for that, I say he's A-Okay and a cracker jack of a gentleman.

Yes, indeed.

We went to the Hemlock Lodge, later, relaxing and drinking coffee, looking out the large glass windows as the rain continued pouring. We couldn't set up camp yet. It was both soothing and invigorating as we sat there at the lodge, hearing the drops hit the roof, crawl down the glass. We saw the lake below, the tall oaks and maples. Pure nirvana.

The pounding rain eventually dwindled into a drizzle and then a sprinkle. We headed off to our camp site and by the time we got there, the rain had stopped and we were able to set up camp. And we had a lot of stuff to unpack, too. Gas stove, utensils, flashlights, our meds, my insulin, backpacks, suitcases full of clothes, boxes of food, chairs, adult beverages (which aren't allowed) and who knows what.

Really. I can't tell you what else we had because I was inebriated or something about half the time we were down there. Nature, adult beverages, good talks and great walks throughout our time at The Gorge all swirled together like a fantastical realm of perfect balance and color-infused harmony.

Yeah, baby. Can ya dig it?

Here's our camp site, above and a few other charming pictures, below, taken during our adventures. Yes, that is me, pinching my frozen nips one morning. Oh, what a glorious time I had. :) I know you want to insert your own sick jokes here. And by sick jokes, I mean your dicks.

You sick freaks!

Just kidding, lady bloggers out there. I know you aren't hermaphrodites. Well, I guess not. Just going by the times I window-peeped on ya.

If you want to see more pics of my camping trip at Red River Gorge, I've got a photo album on Facebook that has 216 photos in it. If you have friended me, already, feel free to look at them. Quite a few are wallpaper worthy. If you haven't friended me, or don't do the Farcebook thing, well, what are you waiting for? I mean... Good Golly and Holy Buh-Jeezus! As long as I feel I can trust you somewhat to not rape, rob and sodomize me with a tractor mower, I will accept your friend invitation. I'm easy.

Stay tuned for Part Two of my Adventures While Camping at The Gorge, coming up tomorrow.

This Is How I Drive My Truck

I thought this scene was one of the best parts of the movie, Drive Angry. So cool.

"And that's the way, uh huh, uh huh, I like it, uh huh, uh huh."

lol

Summer Fun Action

What have I been up to?

Enjoying the summer, goddamn it! After 6 months of a harsh, excruciatingly long winter, summer has finally arrived and instead of being bound or limited in what can be done during the past heavy bouts of ice, snow and all that groovy shit, I'm unshackled, free, even, my amigos, to get out and enjoy. My past problems before kept me from posting regularly. Ironically, things are going so well, nowadays, I've been spending most of my time away from the drudgery of lame, indoor activity.

Well, I do make time for cat fisting and fixing a good cup of coffee. That will perk you up. You shouldn't deny yourself the simple things in life, you know.

In any case, I wholeheartedly encourage everyone reading this to get outside right now and go crazy this summer. Put a bundle of firecrackers in your pants, light 'em up and sing "Yank Me Doodle Dandy" till the neighbors call the authorities on you.

Of course, you gals may say, "But Kelly, I wish not to harshly burn my womanly baloney flaps and my cuddly clitoris."

Do it anyway, damn it! Get crackin'! And poppin'! Add some spice and spark to your life! Show 'em who's boss!

You dudes, on the other hand, might point out, "But what about the charred remains of my crispy, deflated testes and my seriously messed up smoking ballsack?"

Oh, boo hoo. Don't be such a crybaby! Put a dab of sunburn cream on your junk and it will all be swell. Take it from the good Dr. Kelly. He'll never steer you wrong.

Speaking of things in your pants, you may want to watch this. It's quite lovely.

A couple weeks ago, I went to my sister's 23rd year wedding anniversary/bonfire party. I saw some friends I hadn't seen in ages. The crinkles around their eyes and the strands of gray in the hair freaked me out. So I said, "You guys are getting old."

They said, "Well, you are, too," almost in unison.

I laughed, took it in stride and shot them all in the head.

Seriously, we had a relaxing, fun time. It could be because we were all fucked up but I think it was the general mood of seeing each other again and the great weather and the food and the liquor and the dog and turkey face off.

Yes, I did record the Dog Vs. Turkey Match of The Millennium with my digital camera. The quality isn't that great but the content is funny. Forgive me or not about the quality. I was quite numb and it took all three of my working brain cells to find the movie camera symbol thingy on the camera dial thingy. Hope I'm not being too technical here.

No animals were hurt during the dog and turkey foreplay right before they finally made sweet, sweet inter-species love to one another, folks. So don't stress out!

Here's the video clip. Listen to our witty dialogue and be amazed! Watch two wild n' crazy beasts go at each other until the bitter dispute ends with tender, oddly arousing lovemaking! For real! Sorry, freaks, I had to edit that last part out. This is a family site, after all.

Before the entertainment, we feasted on grilled burgers, metts, bratwurst, a teriyaki rice dish I made, earlier, and a lot of other good edibles. We didn't kill and eat the turkey this time. It was covered with too much spooge.

During the course of the day and evening, I snapped a lot of shots of sunsets, people, animals, fire and Lord knows what. If you find out, tell me.

OH YEAHHH! And that's just what Randy "Macho Man" Savage said just before he crashed. Too true. Plus, he had a Slim Jim hangin' out of his pie hole when they found him slumped over.

Here are a few of the photos I took throughout the day and night of the party.

There's nothing like staring into the coals and flames of a raging bonfire. Very peaceful. It really eases the worries of the day and allows your mind to wander into tranquil territories.

We decided not to throw our friend, Marty, into the bonfire that night because, even though he has lost some muscle mass due to his MS disease, he's still kinda heavy. He still weighs in at 150 pounds. We tried encouraging him to steer his electronic mobile chair thingamajiggy into the fire, himself, to give us a break from hurting our backs from lifting him and possibly interrupting our drunken revelry but he was too lazy.

Damn him.

Normally, we would chase after our sarcastic friend, Greg, tackle him to the ground and take him to the bonfire "to threaten to throw him in" but he couldn't make it because he was working in Kansas.

Damn him, too.

You can see more photos from the party if you click on my photo blog, Pics For Kicks.

I hope everyone has a safe, fun, relaxing summer in the months ahead. It certainly beats where we were with that hellish winter here in the U.S. only a few months ago. I implore you to get out and enjoy nature. Believe it or not, fucking around with your computer or any other electronic device isn't all that.

These past few weeks have been glorious compared to what the situation was for the wife and I only a month ago. Hooray! About time!

While away from the hallowed, frankly ridiculous internet, we saw four movies in the theater.

I grade the following on a scale of 1-10:

Green Lantern gets an 8. Bad Teacher gets a 7. Cars 2 gets an 8. The latest Transformers movie gets an 8, as well.

Besides grilling out, drinking too much, communing with the great outdoors and spending money on a laptop for the wife and going out to eat about every friggin' day, I've recently gotten re-addicted to a computer game I played for years this last week. Just one more reason I haven't been blogging much these days. The game is called Sacred. It's an older hack n' slash RPG but it's still a lot of fun. My character is a Battle Mage named Master Heathen. I hate the pinkish color glow that his wicked magical armor gives off but it doesn't mean shit, really, when you take in the fact that he's really great at disemboweling his enemies with ease and setting them on fire as they continue to scream.

Well, gang, that's all I got for now. For my next post, I'm going to describe, with pictures and words, the big semi-annual flea market we go to every year that's famous for it's muzzle-loading shoots, odd items for sale and freaky folks dressed in leather, coon skin hats and dresses (not necessarily all at once) in nearly one hundred degree heat.

There's a variety of smells in the air, you'll detect, during the week long flea market/muzzle loading shoot. Everything from sweaty meat bags to Elk Burgers piled with sauteed onions.

That upcoming post should be fun. Stay tuned! Stay safe! And don't forget to put the M-80's down your pants and light 'em up to show your special Fourth of July patriotism. We're all counting on you.

Note: I'll try my damnedest to visit your blogs the next couple of days so be prepared.

In One Part of The World

In one part of the world, there is a child, crying out to it's mother, wishing to be held. The mother, upon hearing the cries of anguish, runs to her child. The child sobs while holding onto his leg. A heartbreaking scene. The mother sees he has a scratch on his knee.

"What happened, Danny?," she asks.

"I ran and jumped on Woof Woof, then I fell off and he got me with his hoof," complained the boy.

Danny's mother bent down to inspect his scratch and pointed, with her index finger, saying, "I'll take care of this and you'll feel much better."

And with that said, she stood up and went into the house to get the first aid kit. When she came back out, she cleaned his scratch, put antibiotic cream on his minor wound and covered it with a bandage adorned with cute cartoon characters of orange dinosaurs and grinning unicorns. Her son's face brightened and was smiling.

After his mom was done, she kissed his forehead and stood back up. Woof Woof, the happy-go-lucky pig suddenly ran over and rubbed up against the mother's leg. She pat him on the head and was about to go back into the house to make an ice cold pitcher of fresh lemonade until she abruptly turned around with a large military weapon, calmly aimed and caused Woof Woof to explode in many pieces of various size. Bone fragments, blood, brain matter, other odds and ends and flesh scattered in every direction.

"There you go, sweety," said Danny's mother, "All better now."

The boy plucked a wet chunk off his face and ate it. "Tastes like chicken," said Danny.

Beside him, Woof Woof's mouth was lying on the ground. It opened up and said, "Rut roh." Danny giggled.

In one part of the world, a politician find himself in a tough quandary over cutting jobs in the fire department of his city in order to keep the budget from going into the red.

The middle aged man looks up towards the ceiling and says a prayer, almost whispering, "Lord, please give me strength."

That's when Tom Berkland had an idea that would solve everything. Quickly, he got up from his office chair, grabbed his suit jacket off the hook and went out the door of the mayor's office. He couldn't believe he had wasted this much time.

Minutes later, Tom was in church. The priest walked over to Tom, kindly placed his hand on the mayor's shoulder and asked, "May I help you, Tom?"

Tom looked at the church collection plate sitting on one of the stands. Hurriedly, Tom pulled down his pants, sliced off his genitals and gingerly placed his junk on the collection plate. Bleeding profusely, Tom groaned in pain while the priest smiled and followed that with the words, "A rather small offering, isn't it?"

That's when the circus clowns came in on their mini bikes, honking and cheering and pissing on the floor. Bright, multi colored streamers fell from the ceiling as the mayor collapsed to the floor, bleeding to death and shitting himself.

In one part of the world, a single man and his two married friends go to the only local pizza joint to pick up two large deluxe pizzas that had been ordered earlier on the phone. On the way home, they encounter a homeless person standing on a curb. At least, they believe he may be a homeless person. He's holding a sign that says he is hungry and has been traveling on foot.

The single man, who is driving, stops the car at the red light beside the curb. The panhandler smiles. The driver gets a digital camera out of his coat pocket, aims it toward the panhandler. The traveler sees this and decides to crouch down and strike a happy pose for the driver.

The driver takes the picture. The occupants of the car give him a friendly wave, thanking him for allowing them to take his picture. After the light changed, the car slowly turned right and continued down the road. One of them asked, "Do you think we should have let him have a piece of pizza?"

"Oh my goodness, I can't believe I did that!," exclaimed the driver.

"What?," inquired the other male passenger, "Take a picture of the homeless guy? Not offer him any pizza?"

"No," said the driver, "Forget to ask for extra garlic sauce at the pizza place."

The woman in the back seat put her hand over her mouth and snickered.

Then the others joined in and laughed just as a semi truck suddenly jumped over the raised concrete median strip. Laughs quickly turned into screams as the car, with no time to stop, plowed into the side of the huge truck, sending glass, metal, blood and body parts everywhere.

The truck driver slowly got out, visibly shaken and was about to inspect the damage of the crash and to see if he could possibly help anyone that was still alive. When he saw the destruction, the trucker shook his head. In that moment, the man who had just posed for a picture on the curb showed up. Carefully, the man picked through the mess until he found a pizza box. He opened it, took a bite from a pizza slice and frowned.

Then the panhandler remarked, "Those fuckers didn't ask for extra garlic sauce."

That's when a jumbo jet, without warning, crashed into the middle of the wreckage, exploded on impact, killing everyone on the highway in a substantial radius and engulfed property and people in the flames of death. That very same day, there was to be no more pizza deliveries or pizza carry out orders in town. A sad day for pizza lovers.

Somehow, they struggled on. And just as the townspeople adjusted to the reality of what had transpired and the fact they were unable to order pizzas, an atomic bomb was dropped upon the town and never again, would they be able to order a pizza. Neither pepperoni or the sausage variety. But... at least they had the clowns. And really, isn't that enough?

Car Spins Wheels In Snow and Catches on Fire

Watch this idiot, on live TV, spin his wheels until he catches on fire.

End of The World Delight

Hey gang, let your old pal, Uncle Kelly, tell ya the tale of a lil' planet of long ago. It was called, oddly enough, Idiotica, and it was outrageously overpopulated with a bunch of wacky two legged creatures. They were called DumbAsses.

Now they say the DumbAsses on planet Idiotica started out as crazy turd-throwin' monkeys. But I don't know about that. I have my own theory that seems a bit more sensible. I think a bunch of messed up, drug lovin' aliens got bored one week and dropped by perfect Idiotica for a bit of experimental hooha. Since the aliens didn't poke each other in the porkholes anymore and they were gettin' tired of lookin' at all of the mountains, oceans and trees- I think they decided to break up the monotony of living on Idiotica with an act that would change everything on the planet. Yes sir, the aliens decided to make a new species of being with their advanced technology. Thus, the DumbAsses were emanated. The aliens, seeing what they created, were so embarrassed, they took off like a flea and didn't come back for a real long time.

So after the aliens left the DumbAsses to make decisions for themselves, the Early DumbAsses right away began playing "Take Mr. Stinky and Push Him Into The Taco of Love." When they weren't doing that, they would hunt down vermin, eat til their bellies bloat and hit each other with sticks.

Oddly enough, a lot of the inhabitants of Idiotica delighted in their worship of inanimate objects. The theory being- If ya sing your praises to a rock, the rock will give your people a head of lettuce and other stuff. Here's a sample of a couple of their prayers:

Oh statue of a god I just made up

Please tell me what I should do.

Should I take my first born

And drown him in the river

Or allow him to grow up to be a fine DumbAss like me?

Another one...

Oh big ol' shiny ball in the sky

You are so great

And look so good up there

Could you make it so we have enough beans for the winter

I love you

Later, the folks of Idiotica moved on to praying to deities they couldn't see. A lot of times, they would fight over their deities and beliefs and cause plentiful bloodshed for anyone who didn't believe what they believed. They even had festive events called Inquisitions where they would pick a disbeliever out from the crowd and slowly torture them to an agonizing death. Ha ho! They sure knew how to have a jolly ol' time!

It's been on record in the history books that one of the knights, during a holy war, had this to say, as he plunged his sword into the chest of an unarmed DumbAss, "Come-come, my good man. Cannot you see the practicality of believing in the glory of my god?" The unarmed DumbAss had this to say, "Ahhhh!" Then he died.

During the Industrial Age, The DumbAsses made something that would change their world for years to come. It was called pollution and they used it to slowly poison themselves to death. Hurray!

Another wacky thing the DumbAsses liked ta do was cut down trees. They weren't happy, it seemed, until they cut down every last one. When all the rain forests were wiped out, they noticed (a bit too late) that good clean air and oxygen was a bit scarce.

A lot of crazy things they did to pollute and ravage the planet also changed the weather. It was called global warming. Whew! It's gettin' hot in here. Can you kids say s-l-o-w-d-e-a-t-h?

The main objective of living on Idiotica, of course, was to get more moola (money). And enough was never enough for the typical DumbAss. And the more ya had, the more other DumbAsses seemed to respect ya. Which is funny and truly pathetic when ya think about it. Ha ho! Those crazy DumbAsses loved and worshiped those lil' green pieces of paper more than any other god on Idiotica. In fact, the whole ecosystem of Idiotica was forsaken for the Almighty Dollar. Golly!

Every so often, the DumbAsses of Idiotica would elect a new president, king or puppet. One country of DumbAsses, in particular, prided itself on being free. Free ta do what? The only freedom these DumbAsses really had was the right to vote for a new ruler every so often. They didn't get to make the laws of their land. They didn't get ta decide how much money would be ripped out of their paychecks to support their government. And many times, the DumbAsses' government would control the DumbAsses by telling them lies and forcing them to watch ancient reruns of Gilligan's Island or worse yet, The Jerry Springer Show. Excuse me now- while I puke up a Toyota.

And good gollykins but those DumbAsses enjoyed a good war. It would always be about land, religion, fossil fuels or the color of skin. These DumbAsses would kill each other like there was no tomorrow. Crazy fun for one and all! They wouldn't be satisfied until they had annihilated almost everybody in a big ol' murderous frenzy.

Now a couple DumbAsses would try to rally people for the cause of peace.

Peace. Peace. Peace. That's all they would talk about. They, of course, were killed instantly. Where did they think they were? On another planet or something?

The world wars that would be engaged in later were over food, water and the basic necessities of life. Strangely enough, instead of pulling together so that their species had a chance of surviving, they continued to kill and kill and kill one another. Imagine that!

Finally, the aliens came back to check up on the DumbAsses, ready to introduce themselves proper and such. But when they arrived, they saw that the folks on Idiotica had enough nuclear warheads and other high powered weaponry to entirely destroy their planet 50 X 3 plus 2 and decided the DumbAsses were intent on killing themselves and weren't worth their time and trouble.

With the advent of the predicted Final World War, the seas and oceans boiled while the lands of Idiotica burned with the fires of nuclear devastation. Alas, there was to be no surviving for any DumbAss due to complete widespread fallout and radiation. And did I mention fire? Woohoo!

What started out as a perfectly beautiful, life sustaining planet was eventually turned into a perfectly destroyed ashen rock of lifelessness. The End.

Gosh, you sure didn't see that coming. Did you? Ha ha! Well, this is Uncle Kelly, bidding you a joyous farewell and sweet happy dreams. Aloha, adios and goodbye!

Lightning Strikes Big Butter Jesus

A six story statue, officially known as King of Kings burned to the ground, in Monroe, Ohio, Monday night during a lightning storm. When God's wrathful lightning bolt struck one of its outstretched hands, the Styrofoam and fiberglass made Jesus behemoth quickly caught on fire. All that remains is a part of the statue's metal frame. The amphitheater that sits behind the huge religious statue caught fire, too. This took place not far from where I live.

Ha! Missed me again, didn't you, God?

The statue was built by the Solid Rock Church in 2oo4. You would think that the church would have made the statue out of solid rock, but no, that would make too much sense.

This statue went by many names and nicknames. For one, it was called Big Butter Jesus because of it's off-white buttery color. And if you look closely at the photo, it does look like BBJ is sorta melting beneath the sun. One thing for sure, it sure did melt under the fire.

The King of Kings statue went by the following real (not made up by me) nicknames:

Big Butter Jesus

Drowning Jesus (See photo? See Big Jesus halfway underwater? Get picture?)

Touchdown Jesus (for it outstretched referee-like arms for a possible touchdown)

Quicksand Jesus

Giant Jesus

8-Ball Jesus

Big J

Super Jesus

MC 62-foot Jesus

and

Swamp Jesus

The lightning fire has sparked a new nickname for the statue- Terminator Jesus

Video of the burning Jesus is at the bottom of the post. Witness God's wrath for yourself! Behold! No mention if marshmallows were brought to the scene to toast over Jesus. If there were, perhaps he could have magically turned them into smores as he became engulfed in flames.

Maybe, as some have suggested, the Supreme Being didn't care for the unflattering names or the appearance of Quicksand Jesus. That's why it got striketh with the celestial, high-tension electrical discharge! The good Lord was pissed!

My brother-in-law thought it ironic and humorous the religious figure wasn't spared the rod (er, bolt) when a nude strip club, Bristol's, sits across the road. You would have thought that place would have felt the wrath of God, first. Eh, well. Maybe God thought that Big Butter Jesus was too glitzy or stupid looking or something. Ya never can tell with him, after all.

Comedian, Heywood Banks created a song about Big Butter Jesus before the lightning struck him. The video shows the fire and before and after shots of the statue. Enjoy!

Also: The Solid Rock Church plans on rebuilding the statue, once it can afford to. They estimate it will cost $225,000 to do it. too bad that money won't be spent on something worthwhile, like the poor and homeless.

Beijing Heat Therapy

Recently, I read about a quirky new trend in physical therapy that is being administered in Beijing, China. It's a heat therapy treatment that involves wrapping patients in oil soaked blankets and setting fire to them.

Hey, what could go wrong with that?

Han Li, who runs a clinic in Beijing that offers this treatment, says, "It looks pretty dangerous but it's harmless when done properly and we've never had a patient burnt yet."

Patients who have come from this without being cooked to "medium well" to "extra crispy" have said that the therapy produces total relaxation despite having flames just centimeters from their bare skin. One patient described the feeling of having it done by explaining, "It produces a type of heat that goes right inside you and leaves you completely relaxed. I have the treatment three times a week and return to work relaxed and rested."

Han Li also offers acupuncture with flaming needles and cupping, where heated cups are sealed to the patient's skin.

For a few Chinese banknotes more, you can now have a treatment that involves a metal spoon being held over an open fire until it glows bright red and then have it applied directly onto your ass cheek, eyeball or ballsack. You may have to sign a waiver for this therapy, however.

I'm kidding about that last treatment. As far as I know, no one is doing it... yet. But give it time.

Although the idea of being wrapped in swaddling, oil soaked blankets on fire sounds like a hot time in the ol' town tonight, I will have to pass. I'm not into being on fire, whatever the method used and recommended.

I would much rather try the old fashioned Chinese pain therapy of basic acupuncture -with no flames- thank you. I could handle that, with ease, I believe, since I stick myself with insulin needles and check my blood sugar, using needles twice a day. Because of this, acupuncture for me would likely be a walk in the proverbial park.

What do you think -about any of this?

Computer Fire and Repair

After seeing smoke rolling out of both ends of my CPU, Sunday and nearly having a stroke, I figured that my computer was completely trashed. I took it to the computer repair shop and told them to call me and give me an estimate on labor and parts before doing anything to it (if it was salvageable). If the cost was going to be too high, I would get the hard drive and other components out of it that wasn't damaged and chuck the rest in the dumpster or elsewhere.

Maybe one of Gary's wee folks at Klahanie could have used the burned out CPU casing as a new home. Who knows? I would definitely advise getting a air freshener in that scenario.

Three days slowly went by before I got a call from the repair shop. Before that, I was suffering some major computer usage withdrawals. Luckily, I had a five hour long porno DVD called "Fuck My Face!" to get me through the tough times for awhile. And by awhile, I mean ten minutes. I pulled it out after that. And by "pulling it out", I mean taking the movie out of the DVD player.

Porn DVDs are boring to me, anymore. Kinda icky, too. Close up shots of ass zits, droopy cunt flaps and suspicious looking blemishes or sores are a real turn off.

The human body, in general, is a real turn off if you think about it. But don't!

In reality, I filled in the computer void by reading books I meant to read, like two years ago and talking more to my wife. The first part worked. The second part... not so much. Turns out my wife's irresponsible sister was causing us some problems which I won't get into here.

As usual, I'm getting off topic (and not getting off on the previous porno topic). :-)

The computer repair guy said the power supply was toast, burned up and screwed, royally. Well, in so many words, he said that. Also, he explained that the cooling fan was trashed. Furthermore, the video card's capacitors were cooked. That, he said, was the reason I heard the loud popping noise before the fire and smoke occurred. He gave me an estimate of $142.00 for labor and parts. Since I can't afford another computer these days, for a variety of reasons, I gave him the go ahead with repairing the fucking thing.

Now the next day, when it was ready for pick up, he showed me the damaged parts and gave me some good news. He was able to find a used power supply back in his storage bin that would fit in the proper spot in my CPU. Dell computer parts, he had explained before, were tricky and often complicated to replace (especially since the Dell computer I have is five years old -which is considered ancient in computer techie world, apparently).

Because he was able to put in the slightly used power supply, the cost of everything dropped to eighty-nine dollars. Hooray. Happy ending, for once. I hooked the computer up and went through the nearly 100 emails that I had gotten since the fire. After the cruise and getting some major medical bills paid off and buying a hearing aid, at long last, I plan on having a custom built computer made for me. No Dell parts.

In the end, I would have to say I'm lucky. It could have been far worse. The apartment could have caught on fire and the "Fuck My Face" DVD would have been lost forever. So sad.

Not really. Lol.

And now, I must catch up on my favorite blogs. Ready. Set. Go!

Rocket Bomb

I came across this story today about an event that happened last Sunday, in Michigan. I just wish that I could have seen this act of human stupidity in person. I would have laughed.

Looking for a power boost to his sled riding experience, a 62 year old sledder got it when the homemade rocket strapped to his back exploded, burning him over nearly 20 percent of his body. Oakland County Undersheriff Mike McCabe said the man, whose identity hasn't been released, was hospitalized in stable condition Monday.

Quick! Somebody break out the marshmallows and I'll go grab a couple sticks! The fire is still burning pretty good!

The crazy ol' man was hosting a Sunday night sledding party when he filled an automobile muffler with gasoline and gunpowder, strapped it to his back and had it lit, seeking what McCabe called "a rocket-launch effect."

Instead, I believe, he got the "Holy-shit-my-goddamn-back-is-half-gone-and-I'm-on-fire-effect."

The device blew up as the man headed downhill, causing second-degree burns to his face and right side of his body and possible eye damage.

This story kinda reminds me of when Chevy Chase oiled up the bottom of his metal sled in the movie, "Christmas Vacation." One of my faves. Zooom! Pow! Only this guy was more of an imbecile because he basically strapped a freaking bomb to his back. HA HA HA.

No charges have been filed against the man, whom McCabe said is known for doing "outrageous things" at his sledding parties.No shit. I bet he'd be fun for entertaining at kid's parties... or adult parties, for that matter -as long as he's far, far away from the house, car and the rest of the property. If he damages or sets himself on fire, that's cool, though. Maybe next time he could wrestle a polar bear, while naked.

Blueberries On Ice

It was so cold out, on the way to the truck, earlier today, that I had icicles hanging off of My Blueberries Down Below. Luckily, I survived the twenty second walk to the truck and turned on my hiney heater (what I call my seat warmer) and the icicles defrosted rapidly and all was well again in the Land of Nutsack.

Dance! Be Merry! Have a mug of ale!

Isn't it great that celebrity/actor, John Travolta, flew a ton of supplies down to the earthquake victims in Haiti. My respect for him went up a notch. I don't care what his personal beliefs (Scientology) are, as long as the rich bastard is doing some real good.

You know what else is doing some good?

I don't know. You don't have the answer? Damn.






This idiot looks like he has an oddly happy expression.

Perhaps setting himself on fire is his passion.

I like him because he makes me smile and think more highly of myself. Thank you, idiot, for the gift of making me feel superior. Salute!

I applaud your glorious ignorance and only wish that I could douse you with gasoline. What comedy you could bring to the public!

No, you will not be allowed to venture outside! You may get Frozen Blueberries Syndrome. Stay here, where it's warm. Especially for you, you King of Idiots!

Now, good day to you, sir.

Plans For New Year's Eve Party (but not at my place)

I'm not sure which plan I'm going to go with. Maybe you can help me decide.

Plan A

Personally, I think a party featuring midgets fucking tiny poodles while everyone enjoys a delightful concoction of doobage, drink and magic mushrooms has all the makings for a rip-dandy fiesta. I'd watch that for a dollar. Then I would further the evening's merriment by dousing them all with gasoline, setting them all on fire and shooting each guest in the nuts or hoo hoo as they try to flee the premises. It's important to impress your guests with charm and grace, after all.

Plan B

I'd give even 2 whole dollars to watch a room full of retards (or ultra conservatives- either group being interchangeable) have their drinks laced with something that would cause them to lunge upon each other, gouge out each other's eyes with corkscrews while singing ""Auld Lang Syne". Of course, I will perform the videotaping and set them all on fire before I leave the premises. What a way to bring in the new year!

But what to do... what to do.

Watching The Fire During Hippie Thanksgiving

My sister hosted Hippie Thanksgiving this year, Saturday. There, we had turkey, green bean casserole, a cheesy potato dish, a variety of pies, deer meat, a big bonfire after the meal and I don't know what else. I was a little drunk later that night. Details are fuzzy.

Most everybody contributed something to the festivities. Could have been food. Could have been an alcoholic concoction. Could have been a funny joke or story. Could have been a jab to the kidneys. Who knows?

It was a great time. Got to talk to friends I hadn't seen for half a year to a year. We talked about politics, idiotic thieves, throwing friends in the bonfire and -wait- Did I just say throwing friends in the bonfire? Well, we talked about it. There was a time when we would all get nice n' fucked up and actually tried sending a friend or two into the flames of hell. One of them, in particular, was Gerk. Throughout the years, he's been singed by the fire a good number of times during our parties. Either his feet or his crotch have tasted the heat of the fire every now and then. Oh, how he'd scream. Heh heh. Yes, good times.

Sometimes, we would set unopened cans of baked beans or whatever we could find upon the hot coals in the pit. Sure enough, they would explode, sending shrapnel and showers of bubbling hot bean particles upon our drunken asses. Before the impending explosions, a few of us would run behind trees. Others would flee behind the huge propane tank that sits only twenty feet away from the fire pit. Some of waited patiently for the blast to hit us in the face. The anticipation was as thick as crusty pudding.

Pass the whisky and moonshine please. Don't want ta be feelin' it. Ka-Pow!

What fun!

But we're all old now. Our tribe of friends are in their late thirties to mid 40's. We've outgrown those stunts, for the most part. Kind of sad. Kind of expected. Now we only make threats of roasting Gerk in the fire. He laughs nowadays, knowing he is safe from that scenario. That, too, is sad. I miss all of us chasing him down, viciously grabbing hold of every wriggling limb and carrying him to the pit.

Aside from all that, it was a relaxing evening this past Saturday. My friends and I sat close to the fire, watching it, mesmerised by the flames. It was cold. Around 20 something degrees. But that didn't matter. All that matters is telling old stories, sharing laughs with friends and watching the fire.