How To Make Towel Animals

Here's a video that takes you through the steps of making six different towel animals.  My blog pal, Dixie, wanted to know how to do it (in the comment section of my last blog post) and by golly, I'm here to please.

You can do what you want to the towel animal after you're finished, of course.  Be creative!  Enjoy.  Have a messy good time, if you so desire!

So, without further ado, here is the video:

Hawaiian Adventure: Entertainment, Excursion and Examples of Bad Behavior

If you wish to read the first installment of this series, regarding our trip to Hawaii, click here.  If you wish to read the second installment, click here.  If you've already read both of them, you are a good citizen, worthy of food and drink and mild entertainment.  If you didn't read either, I'm sorry but you'll be going to hell, where you'll be stabbed, repeatedly, in the genitals.  Good day!

There was plenty of entertainment aboard our cruise ship, Pride of America.  I think, on this cruise ship/island adventure, compared to our other one, two years ago, we saw more stage shows.  I enjoyed them, honestly, except for the fact that my wife, who I dearly love, insisted that we sit in either the first or second rows of the theater to "get a better view."

Now the problem with sitting in the first couple of rows during these stage shows is that you are risking getting picked out to participate in some of the entertainment provided.  You could find yourself involved, such as I witnessed of other passengers, in part of a comedian's act where he or she makes you look like an endearing dumbass, of sorts, or you could get almost literally pulled in, off your seat, by some muscular male Hawaiian dancers to dance with them or the Hula girls, on the stage, in front of hundreds of strangers who were delighted and relieved to be sitting away from the front of the stage.  Being a shy and modest guy, I didn't want to participate and at almost every show, there would always be a performer wanting me to participate.  I would always wave them away or kick the air towards them, saying "NO!  NO!  NO!", but they would persist.  I guess I just looked like that type of guy who would be great living material for their act.  A natural fool who would cause the audience to laugh until they pissed themselves silly.

Notice that they are sticking their tongues out.  One of the narrators and dancers said this was the way ancient Hawaiian warriors greeted and welcomed each other back in those ancient days.  Either this is true or they're just showing contempt for the U.S. for taking over their land.  Nahhhhh. 

Holy buhjesus!  I do enough crazy stuff in front of friends at parties when I'm drunk enough.

Gratefully, they would take the hint, after several attempts to get me on the stage and coerce some other poor bastard to "join in the fun."  Hell, I came to be entertained, after all, goddammit.  Not be part of the entertainment.

The food on board the ship was pretty good at the buffet.  Some of it, however, was a weird mix of cultural food dishes.  I think they were sort of trying to please everyone that came from different countries around the world.  That meant you would see a Chinese/American/Russian combination or something else that was bizarre that you could stare at for hours and never quite make out what was in it, exactly.   We often went to the Aloha Cafe, which was a buffet where you could eat and eat until you puked- which I did- but it wasn't because I ate too much.  I'll explain:  When I eat too fast or I don't chew everything down into itsy bitsy molecules, I tend to easily get food stuck down my throat.  And then, embarrassingly enough in restaurants, my breathing ability ceases and my face turns blueish and I have to make a mad dash to the bathroom so I can stick my fingers down my throat to get the food out.  And no, more to drink to get the food down never works for me.  Believe me!  I've tried thousands of times.

In any case, one morning while we were eating breakfast at the buffet, I'm trying to quickly eat an omelet, to widen my throat a bit, in order to swallow my six different medications I take every morning.  Unfortunately, a chunk of ham gets caught in my throat.  My wife is away from the table, up at the buffet, somewhere.  Of course, I start my ol' "I can't fucking breathe" routine and I try to make it to the bathroom on this huge ship.  Remember: I'm halfway crippled because of the problems with my feet.  So, there I go, hobbling and desperately trying to make it to the bathroom with food kinda going up and the back down my throat while I sweat, profusely and turn blue.  When I finally make it to the bathroom, I find that it's locked and occupied and then I suddenly vomit, right on the spot.  I violently puke with my hands over my mouth, trying to keep the vomit from going to where it ended up- on the carpeted floor, in front of the bathroom.  Hooray!  Here's a picture.  Luckily, my camera was in my pocket.

Sadly, you cannot see any chunks of ham from my omelet.  Congrats to me for actually digesting some part of my breakfast.  Man, look at all the halfway digested eggs and cheese!

  

I wonder if that piggy is still alive or maybe just resting comfortably with an apple in his mouth.

We went to a luau on the island of Kuaui and that was entertaining.  Free booze, a train ride through the old sugar plantations, native Hawaiians making stuff to sell to tourists, Hula and fire dancers, lots of stage performances and an all you can eat buffet.  Check out the video, below.



I had five margaritas that night (they would make any kind of mixed drink you wanted) and my arm was getting kinda tired so you'll have to forgive the "shakiness" of the camera. This video is kinda long but it's entertaining.  The entire stage show was really long and absorbing, truthfully.  Very entertaining.  Especially when one of the fire dancers dropped his fire sticks a couple of times, which you'll get to see on this video.  I was hoping one of the guests would go up in flames but I don't think it happened.  I only captured the last eight minutes of the performance on camera. You may want to "full screen" the video to get a decent view.  Maybe not.  They are doing a play or story about a couple, in ancient Hawaiian days, who want to get hitched, so to speak, but the chieftain father of the bride to be doesn't want it to happen.  The end to this play/performance really made me believe I had ingested some magic mushrooms off the buffet, by mistake.

Hawaiian  artist dude carving out a wooden fish of some sorts.  I didn't bother him.  I was afraid he might use that pointy thing on my leg or nutsack.

We went to a lot of shops on all five of the islands we explored and bought a lot of souvenirs for friends, family and ourselves, of course.  I bought a tiki, for example, made out of milo wood, that represented a god that gave you strength, guidance and family protection.  I bought it and talked to the local artist and shop owners, most of which were native Hawaiians and they were very friendly.  We talked a lot about their crafts and the history of Hawaii.

I talked to the owner and artist of this gallery and shop on the island of Kona.  She wasn't a native Hawaiian but she was interesting and incredibly talented.  You can see more of her artwork below.

This is where I bought my tiki.

This is the wife and I, standing in front of a hundred year old tree, in Kona square.

Every day, the maids would come into your cabin, while you were gone and make different animals, just like the previous cruise ship we were on, Freedom of the Seas.  These animals, which to me, were works of art and made completely out of towels.  One day, you would see a lobster on your bed, the next day, perhaps a dog or a swan and so on.  Below, you'll see me celebrating the fine work these maids do in creating these masterpieces.

Humping a towel bunny and holding onto it's ears so it can't get away.  I think I "orgasmed."  Is that a word?

This is the Na Pali coast.  It is truly beautiful and has a mystical quality to it's landscape.  Beneath the picture, you'll find a video of our ship, passing by it.  There was a lot of wind that day- so you'll hear a lot of that.  This video is pretty short, too.

This is one of the last big events we experienced on our week long cruise.

We had a long layover at the Honolulu airport at the end of our Hawaiian experience.  This really didn't bother me.  They had plenty of things to look at, such as displays that contained Hawaiian history, various paintings, cool shops and more.  Naturally, I explored.

We had a great time during our Hawaiian adventure.  I hope you enjoyed this last installment of the series.  Aloha and mahalo, everyone!

The Calm After The Storm

I don't know if you read or heard about the dozens of tornadoes that tore through the states of Alabama, Indiana, Kentucky and Ohio.  The string of massive tornado-producing thunderstorms ended up killing 37 people and caused so much devastation that people had lost hundreds of their homes and countless businesses and other structures.  What makes this a close subject to my heart is the fact that several of these tornadoes came dangerously close to me, my family and friends and killed a good many of the people in the general area, where I live.

You can click this link for a large part of what happened exactly, here, and other states.

It was so bad, the National Guard were called in to help out, clear debris and keep spectators away from the havoc-stricken towns.

Some of these real life horror stories I've known for some time now.  But there are a few that I didn't find out until today.  Like the grandmother who had closed herself off in her closet for fear of being wiped out by an oncoming tornado that day.  The tornado passed by her house, luckily but she was found in that closet four days later, dead from dehydration.  I'm not sure if she couldn't get out or that she stayed in the closet for fear of her life.  You would think, after a couple hours or a day, at the most, she would have left.  Maybe she was disabled, mentally or physically.

But it does make you think.  Death can come to you at any time and in ways you least suspect.  I don't fret about this aspect of life much or hardly at all but I think young people, who often believe themselves to be somewhat invulnerable, should give it some thought.

There's also the story of a toddler that miraculously stayed alive after it's entire family was killed by a tornado.  The house it lived in was obliterated, as well.  It was critically injured and taken to the hospital.  It lived for several days until it, too, died from injuries from one of the destructive tornadoes.

What is inspiring is that though the tornadoes killed over three dozen people and caused so much devastation, people everywhere volunteered to help.  A lot of businesses and churches, of course, collected donations from people empathizing with the plight and tragedy of those dishearteningly affected.  I feel sorry for people in life-shattering situations.  The Japan and Haiti tsunami /earthquake victims, for instance.

But people came to help out in those incidents, as well.  Sometimes it's easy to forget the good in people.  The media doesn't make it any easier.  But they do report the good that people do every so often.  They should promote those stories more often but we all know, according to them, that misery sells.

I went to one of my favorite parks the other day, after the onslaught of tornadoes the day before, with a friend.  We drove around and I got some nice shots and a few videos with my new digital camera.  I've included a video and various photos there of that day.  While there, I thought, So this is the calm after the storm.  You could feel the analogy and see the analogy, simultaneously.

a ray of light such as this is like a ray of hope or a scene that induces relief within

If this isn't a scene of peace and serenity, I don't know what is.  Check out my video of the park dam below.  You can really hear the wind blowing hard that day.  But when you see the sun trying to and succeeding in getting through those clouds and you listen to the water, it can soothe you.  Nature, I believe, and as I've pointed out before, is a true doctor and nurturer of your spirit, at times.

I took this shot because I thought it looked cool.

Some time ago, I took my digital camera and took several short videos of my daily walk through the park I usually go through every day.  The pictures above are scenes of a state park.  I would gladly walk through that particular park every day if I lived closer to it.  But my walks in my nearby park are usually quiet, enjoyable, filled with beautiful scenery and without any disturbances- unless some asshole brings a large, unleashed dog as you're trying to walk along back to the safety of your vehicle or park bathroom before it tears off a chunk of your thigh or worse.  Lol.

You'll hear a lot of wind in these videos and you'll also note that while I'm filming, I'm also walking (so you kind of feel like you're walking with me- that's the whole idea) and maybe you'll hear me breathing a little hard.  Ya gotta remember folks:  My footsies are deformed (inoperable heel spurs, enuinos foot deformity, and foot neuropathy).  That means I kind of walk "funny."  And yes, for those ready to give me unsolicited advice, I already do what I can to lessen the pain and other shit.  This has been with me for decades so I'm an old veteran of such shit.  I was bullied for that "funny walking" crap, among other things, when I was a kid.  As you may or may not know, that bullying crap leaves scars in your psyche- but it can also make you stronger, of course.  That's an issue I plan on writing about someday but not today.

Plus, I'll mention here that I have high blood pressure, along with diabetes, so it might explain the heavy breathing part you hear throughout the videos.  Please, no gratuitous sexual innuendo/joke needed here- unless it's funny enough.  :)  I figure somebody who can have as sick as sense of humor I can have will say something.  You're welcome to it.  :)

And yes, I'm doing what I can about those other previously mentioned maladies, too.  High BP and type 2 diabetes and so on AND SO FORTH.  No lectures.  I believe I'll take this meaningful moment to scratch my ass and go on.

But I get through it all.  I've learned to deal with it like I've had to deal with my Major Depressive disorder.

In any case, I get through my daily walks, stopping every so often from some pain and I get to look at peaceful, stress lessening scenes like the videos show below.  Enjoy the serenity.  Take a walk with me.





I come down to this part of the park, often.  I'll sit in the gazebo, sometimes and contemplate ideas, feelings and just enjoy the atmosphere.

You know, no matter what destructive or painful events happen in your life or the lives of others, there always seems to be that ray of light or that calm after the storm.  Take care, folks.  Just as importantly taking care of yourself and other folks in need, try to gain wisdom from other's experiences through reading and learning about them and gain strength from those experiences when you can.

Now look who's lecturing!  Hahaha.

Ooops.  I forgot to include the Venison Stew recipe I promised to give last time.  Oh well.  Next time.  Bambi is dandy in a stew.  Have I said that before?

Krampus- Santa's Sidekick

I remember when I was a kid and this evil looking thing with horns on it's head busted down the bedroom door and snatched me by the scrawny neck, looked me in the eyes and said, "You're going to take my place one day."

Then he threw his ghastly head back and let out a long howl, quickly followed by sinister laughter.

My dog, Sparky, came into the room and began gnawing on the demonic dude's ankle.  I suppose Sparky was defending me, in his mind.  Krampus calmly bent down, picked Sparky up by the scruff of his neck and said, "I'm gonna shit on your head," quite matter-of-factly.

As promised, Krampus took good ol' Sparky to the bathroom, plopped him in the bathtub and took a big healthy demonic dump on his furry lil head.  Sparky shook the steaming turds off his noggin, yelped and ran out the door.  It turns out that demon shit smells like a mix of honeysuckle and pinewood.  But it still looks like regular shit.  Except for the half-digested human head or two.

Meanwhile, I listened to Krampus' footsteps as he went downstairs and opened the refrigerator door.  Deeply exhausted from a busy day of playing Kick The Retarded Boy Across The Street, I fell fast asleep again.  I came to find out the morning after, that he had made himself a sandwich, before leaving the house and judging from the looks of things, he preferred the corned beef over turkey.  I thought that was a good choice.

Sharing a laugh with good ol', jolly ol' St. Nick.  It makes you wonder, doesn't it?

Had I known back then that I was dealing with a Krampus, I guess I would have been a bit more frightened.  But he seemed like an honest, straight-forward guy that really knew who he was in life and was okay with that.  I always say, The one who deludes himself in life is one of the biggest fools of all.  I know I'm certainly not the first to say something like that.  I've read of that same general idea here and there and you likely have, as well.

In any case, I have this info about Krampus, a mythical creature that has it's roots in German folklore, I'd like to share.  One of my sources is from Wikipedia.  The other is from the video description on YouTube.

Krampus is Santa Claus' whip-toting Christmas sidekick.  According to legend, Krampus joins Santa where he tends to the children on Santa's naughty list.  Krampus whips the children into shape with his whips  or carries them off in his sack.

The early Catholic Church discouraged celebrations based around the wild goat-like creatures and during the Inquisition, efforts were made to stop the celebrations, completely.  However, Krampus figures persisted and by the 17th century Krampus had been incorporated into Christian winter celebrations by pairing him with St. Nicholas.

As fascinating as those last two paragraphs were, I like this video, below, better.

I can't believe that's Anthony Bourdain of the show, Anthony Bourdain- No Reservations and his Layover show.  I like Anthony Bourdain and his No Reservations show (he cooked with Christopher Walken, one of my favorite actors, just recently) but he carries a fairly snarky or cynical tone when he speaks.  In this video, the voice narration conveys a congenial or happy mood while the story is being told.

Go figure.    

Why Santa May Be a Little Late This Year

Gotta make this a quickie video post, guys.  Been doing the Christmas type visiting and shopping all day/all night and I'm too pooped to pop an elaborate post outta my festive, holly jolly holiday ol' butt.  In any case, watch this video and feel the warmth of Christmas magic.  Let the kids watch for extra fun.  I'm not responsible for any future therapy, however.

Pervert Santa

Get him while he's hot! And trapped! I thought this was humorous.

Hanging On a Star

Been bogged down in the mumps, the ol' depressionary state, currently. The red line under "depressionary" is telling me that it's not a word and that I'm a retard. Damn, I can't do anything right. Lately, yeah, I think that title might just fit me. Retard. Maybe "Retard Extraordinaire". Ha. That could be more fitting.

I feel like I'm saying the wrongs things to quite a few people in my inner circle of friends and family. The ol' guilt thing is kickin' my ass all the way to the the moon, as of late. Time to time, I make my attempt to get off that moon of guilt, trying to hook my arm around a star and maybe, if I'm lucky, I will be able to walk down some of those stars. Maybe I'll make it back to Planet Earth soon and shake my own hand and call a truce on the guilt thing going on inside my head.

It's a battle of wills. And getting back to being comfortable with myself...

...would be dandy.

Anyway, the more I listen to this, the more I like it. The song is called The Fun Machine Took a Shit and Died

Don't listen to it if you don't want to listen to it. I don't wanna twist your arm. It's just, I think, some brand spankin' new music from Queens of The Stone Age. Supposedly, they're coming out with a new album, early in 2012. God, I hope it's early. The planet is supposedly blowing up on the 21st of December. If I find out the new album is going to be late- like after the 21st of December, 2012, well, it won't be a pretty picture.

I mean-

I'll be really steamed. I'll buy a strange bobble-head collection and take it with me to the nearest fine dining type of joint, put one of the bigger ones down my pants with just the bobble hanging out of my fly, register the looks on the faces of fellow patrons and ultimately poke my bobble into someone's martini.

A plan, conceived.

But I doubt it will happen. After all, bobble-heads freak me out. No, I won't buy a bobble-head. The name, itself, sounds perverted.

Of course, this scenario just popped into my mind:

I go up to Mrs. Claus. She's kinda old but kinda hot and wearing something red and fluffy. I guess it's a coat. And I say something suave.

"Hey! Wanna see my bobble-head, Mrs. Claus? It's got a red, Christmassy glow. Don't have any idea why. Must be the STD I got in ol' Meh-hee-go."

I often have sex fantasies about Mrs. Claus. Who doesn't?

Mexico. Hmmm....

Beats ol' GuiltLand, where I'm currently residing, nowadays. Or maybe not. Should I feel guilty about boning a mythical, beloved holiday character, by the way? No, I'm not talking about a certain high profile, female Republican candidate that's running for president.

Beloved. Heh.

I think I just watched a documentary type show on TV, detailing a true story that had a guy interviewing a group of middle aged golfer guys, involved in said story and reenactment of their individual experiences on their trip to Mexico. They end up getting robbed, almost killed and then almost getting robbed or worse again by some corrupt cops. I think it was some kind of "I survived my vacation" type show that's airs once a week on The Travel Channel. They said incidents like the ones those golfer guys had didn't happen that often.

Eh. Okay. Maybe not. I don't want to assume. Heck no.

The story before that or afterwards showed actual video of some dumbass getting his flesh torn apart by a lion. This guy, who had never dealt with lions before, happily volunteered to go into the cage with the lion. Then he begins to reach out to pet the lion, the first time, basically wearing only a hoody/sweatjacket type thing and some thin jogger's pants. Then Bippy Dippyshit gets a warning swipe, the first time, with a paw. The dude cried out, "OOOOOW". A little blood was spilled. But the dude continued. And continued. Seeing this idiot play with this lion, as if it were a kitten and then getting his leg meat tore into, like human filet mignon, before he was rescued, cheered me right up.

I know I haven't been around the blogging scene much. I've been doing too much false starting here. I've been getting sidetracked. But I think I'm going to attempt pull a blog-rabbit out of my ass again. Like I did in the Spring of this year, I think I'm going to challenge myself to another blogging duel. Yes. I shall bloggeth every day until the end of December. And I shall also endeavor to visit everyone's blogs like a man with a quest to reach the highest star. Isn't that inspiring? Doesn't it just fill your panties with a load of pungent glee?

Now when the end of December comes up, I will self destruct- or perhap I'll save my explosion until next year about this time. I wanna time it just right. Don't wanna stray from the pack too much. I really want to fit in with the crowd (just like always) and with all of the others that fateful day who will pop open like a smokey pinata. Because, as you might and maybe could tell... I'm an obedient conformist.

Mmm. I'm thinking of bacon flavored candy falling out of a big gash. Insert joke here.

If anyone wants my collection of Pepsi/Star Wars Episode One cans, before Doomsday, I may be willing to swing ya a lucrative deal that will flip you utterly out.

See you tomorrow or bust.

Contact me at pantloadfullofglee@hatemail.com about the cans. I'm feeling better already.

Romance is In The Shed

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.

Goodbye, Congressman Pervert!

People love their trivial distractions. When Congressman Anthony Weiner resigned today, the news media broke through the regular TV programming to announce his resignation over the lewd Twitter photos he sent. I happen to catch it before going out the door and running some errands in town.

When THE BREAKING NEWS thing flashed across the screen and the reporter said he was about to give everyone some important news, I was disappointed to find out it was only this bit of unworthy poop diddley. The way the reporter was frantically jabbering away, I thought the Chinese, the terrorists and North Korea were sending bombs our way or something.

But, no, just more hype over something trivial again. Boooooor-ring.

The reporter finally let loose with the potentially life-changing news by saying a politician was resigning over the erection Twitter pics he sent a young woman and they were going to show him doing his resignation speech on live TV.

To me, it might as well had been something as irrelevant as Charlie Sheen's maniacal rantings about winning or about Hugh Hefner's 25 year old fiancee calling off their wedding. That's what passes for news these days. I guess they figure people want to hear some shit that's more messed up than their own lives so they'll tune in, maybe even buy some crap because of the advertisements during the commercial breaks. Who knows? Big MEH!

I paused at the door just long enough to hear a heckler say, "Goodbye, pervert!"

At least the heckler, in the press conference area, was sending him off with a fond farewell, I thought. I stuck around for a few more seconds.

Then I had to laugh when the heckler asked the politician, Anthony Weiner, if he was more than 7 inches. That was funny. At least that part was a little surprising and offered some laughs.

I also read on the internet that CBS later bleeped that part out (the 7 inches) of the original video clip. That's too bad. At least it was actually funny. Hell, if you're going to distract people with nonsense, you should at least give them the full load. Wait. Maybe that didn't sound right.

The heckler said a few more things but then Weiner, the man that will always be known because of his infamous Internet boner pictures until the next big news comes along, stepped down from the podium.

Shrugging my shoulders, I went out the door and went into town, continuing my life as always.

Here's the uncut version of the BIG BREAKING NEWS.

Galaxy Song

Every time I watch Monty Python's The Meaning of Life movie, I take away some funny and wise message from it. The best kind of comedy movies, I find, are the ones that expose the hard to take (for some people) truths about life that we frequently bump into, yet still can make us laugh.

I liked nearly all the skits and songs in the movie but this one, for me, anyway, was the most educational and deceptively simplest one. Plus, it's funny and illustrates a valid point about the significance of our existence while giving us a bouncy little tune.

Ah, fuck it! Enough with the boring descriptions. Ignore what I said and just watch the damn clip! You'll probably like it.

It's 420 Day!

A brief history of 420 Day

I'll have the, uhhhh... I forget

The Terminator getting fried

Now... this is a pipe

Even the chipmunks are chillin'

Do you, uhhh... see green people?

Yoda shares his wisdom

The M & M guys enjoying a break

A valid point being made

A brief, humorous history of the herb

The AA-12 Combat Shotgun

For those times when a regular combat shotgun isn't generating enough flying body parts, gun connoisseurs turn to what must be the most outrageously devastating hand-held anti-personnel murder machine in existence: the Atchisson Assault Shotgun, or AA-12.

Assault rifles are all well and good, but when you really need to tear a person to pieces, nothing fills the air with metal quite like a AA-12 combat shotgun.

Damn, I want one of these guns. You know, just for the casual stroll in the park or the next time I want to completely destroy something- like an old car. Take my old vehicle, for instance. That damn thing needs to be put out of it's misery. While firing away with this baby, I'd be giggling like a little kid in a candy store. What fun! Of course, my inability to control the damned thing would probably shut me down, permanently, in the first couple of seconds. No, in truth, I'd be afraid to fire it but it is kinda fun to fantasize about.

I first saw and heard about this insane weapon in that testosterone-fueled movie, The Expendables. I couldn't believe the gun was real and when I came home from the movie theater that night, I looked up information on this military shotgun from hell.

I later watched a documentary on this gun and yes, it can do just what it looks like it can do in The Expendables. The AA-12's power is truly remarkable.

Here's a video clip featuring choice scenes of the AA-12 in action in the film, The Expendables. It looks like good fun had by all. :)

More info on the AA-12:

The Auto Assault-12 (AA-12), originally designed and known as the Atchisson Assault Shotgun, is a shotgun developed in 1972 by Maxwell Atchisson. The fully operational prototype was built in a garage shop by Richard Taylor. The current 2005 version has been developed over 18 years since the patent was sold to Military Police Systems, Inc. The original design was the basis of several later weapons, including the USAS-12 combat shotgun. The weapon is selective fire, operating as a semi-automatic, or in fully automatic mode at 300 rounds per minute. It is fed from either an 8-shell box magazine, or a 20- or 32-shell drum magazine.

The Chaos in Japan, Priorities And a Beautiful Song

This is another one of my more non-humorous, thoughtful posts that tends to send a few bloggers and readers who are oddly addicted to only one type of writing either scurrying away or incapable of relating. Of the latter type, they will sometimes leave a comment that seems out of place with the subject(s) being written about.

Well, hell, now that I've alienated some of my readers...

Lately, I don't know if you've noticed, but I've been a little absent from the blogging world. I try to comment here and there on different blogs when I've had the time but I've been busy and preoccupied with thoughts on the devastation in Japan and meaning of life type stuff. I've been on the move, when I'm not watching the news, with traveling, celebrating birthdays and doing other enjoyable activities. Life is going pretty well for me now, relatively, despite a few problems and worries.

One of many things that bother me with the ongoing tragic events in Japan is that there is still a lot of media coverage on the exploits of celebrities. I don't know how it is in other countries but here in the U.S., anything about Charlie Sheen either gets equal amount of time on TV or trumps the amount of time that the news of overwhelming chaos and life loss in Japan gets. You may disagree with this. You may even provide an excuse for this, like I can already hear or see now... Well, we don't want to bombard the public with constant news of Japan's destruction and sorrows and we need to balance it out with the latest goofy thing that Charlie Sheen or some other celebrity has uttered or done so we don't bum or burn people out on what's going on in a country other than our own.

To those that say this, I say FUCK YOU with all of my cold, blackened heart.

I'll go even further to say it's too bad if you're bored with the news of a suffering people or you just want to look away because you can't handle it. I honestly cannot stand it, almost more than anything else, when idiots purposely ignore or deny the truths of life, others and themselves. Everyone needs to face the truth, no matter how much it hurts or how much it is unwanted.

Watching the morning news on CNN the other day, there was an anchorman and woman talking the entire time about how the radiation leak may or may not affect the U.S. Not much was said about how it could affect the Japanese citizenry. When they weren't talking about our safety, they were talking about the efforts to find any Americans in Japan and making sure they got back home, here, in the U.S., safely. Outrageous. I don't understand that. But, in a way, I do. People have their priorities messed up.

Celebrity garbage over real news. Our own interests over the crisis or interests of others. I could go on and on but why bother, right? And that's part of the bigger picture, too. We can't be bothered. The pain, loss and fear that someone else is facing seems distant and small to us because we're so hopelessly self-obsessed. I believe it's some type of mental illness, plain stupidity or societal brainwashing that is so apparent to those who are aware.

I can already see someone telling me in the comment box that the reason there is news on this and not that is because it's all based on what is more profitable to tell or show and... you know, I'm just so sick and tired of hearing that, too. I know the reasons why people do the shit they do. I just want them to stop.

And yes, I know that won't happen either.

Well, I'm done ranting. If you've gotten this far down, I congratulate you, I suppose. The truth is hard to swallow for some. That's why I will, at times, sugar coat it a bit with feeble attempts at humor. Some will get it or accept it or deny it or play devil's advocate just for the fuck of it. So, there you go.

The video clip below is of a band that I feel is incredibly underated. Their name is Filter and the song is called Fades Like a Photograph. Even though the video portrays the loss of a relationship, the song, itself, could be interpreted in different ways. Like the loss of a loved one, such as what is being experienced in thousands of cases in Japan now. To me, there is no worse pain than the loss of a loved one that you had a deep personal connection with, no matter how it comes about. To those who have had this experience, you can relate.

My next post will center around a couple funny incidents I had over the past weekend. Stay tuned for that. I just had to get what I said, in this post, out of my system. I make zero apologies for that. Take care, everyone and always remember what's truly important.

Red Cross: Donors can contribute to the relief efforts in JAPAN by calling 800-733-27677 or visiting http://www.redcross.org. Each text message is a $10 donation to the Red Cross, which will be added to the donors’ next cellphone bill.

Joe Rogan Speaks The Truth

I intended to put an entirely different kind of post up here on the site but since I'm still working hard on it yet -and I found this great video- I wanted to put this on here for everyone to see and listen to. Joe Rogan, a comedian and a guy with a lot of truth to share, did a radio interview last year about the human race. I just stumbled on to it.

I've been a longtime fan of Joe Rogan's and I gotta say, his thoughts on the "human condition" pretty well match up with my own. Scary, huh? I think his words in this video are well worth thinking about. Please watch it and share your opinion. In any case, an open mind should not be faulted. That should be kept in mind while watching this.

Car Spins Wheels In Snow and Catches on Fire

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

Before, During and After Christmas

Mmm. Well... At least the ice age has taken a reprieve for the next couple of days. The temperature has finally reached above freezing temperatures. First time for that in almost a month. Right now we're sitting at a nice, balmy 43 degrees Fahrenheit (6 degrees Celsius). The ongoing monsoon we're experiencing, currently, here in the Midwestern U.S., is washing away the eight or so inches of ice and snow we got around the beginning of December. And this is the end of December. Ridiculous.

And yeah, I know people have it worse somewhere else... like in New York, for instance. It just seems like it's taken a goddamn eternity for the white shit to thaw out and for me to be able to walk five feet anywhere I go without risking slippage and neck breakage. With the advent of this current thaw out we're experiencing, I'll be treated to the sight of morons wearing shorts in these chilly, yet not sub-freezing temps. I've already seen a couple idiots wearing nothing but shorts, shoes and imbecilic grins at Wally World. This type of carefree simpleton behavior happens every year when we have even the slightest thaw out during the winter months.

For those reasons and more is why I'm not in my usual delightful mood and why I haven't been doing the blogging thing, lately. I've been too angry, depressed and seething with madness to do much on the computer except check out a few porn sites, humor sites and The Huffington Post website. It's a good thing my wife won't allow me to buy a gun, I suppose. God knows how many bodies would be lying around. Happy Holidays, everyone! And don't forget to go fuck yourselves silly! But not you, my cherished reader, not you. :)

Ah... As you can see I'm purging myself of the nasty negative thoughts in my head by sharing them with you. Isn't that nice of me? It's nice to share, they say.

Surprisingly, there was no carnage or destruction at my wife's Christmas family dinner this year. No mirrors or ceramic keepsakes were broken into a million pieces like last year. And the cat remained safe this year, unlike last year, where it was constantly being chased and whipped by a cat toy by my 3 little nieces. The reason for this is because (A) The cat ran and wisely hid under the bed when it heard my nieces menacing giggling when they entered the place and (B) Half of the time, while here, they were playing around with their little electronic gadgets or watching an insipid Nickelodeon TV show. The sound and sights of children shows drove me nuts time to time but at least everything, including the cat, remained intact.

The only bad moment happened while I was whispering to my sister about the eldest niece's boyfriend. My oldest niece is 17. Her boyfriend is 18 and weighs close to 500 pounds. I was explaining to my sister that the boyfriend has broken all the chairs, a heavy duty recliner and a coffee table with his hefty, morbidly obese ass by sitting in and on them, of course. He destroyed these fairly expensive pieces of furniture at my sister-in-law's and mother-in-law's places and nothing was said to the behemoth, as a result. I don't get that part, especially. I would have told the guy to pay for the damages, lose weight (at least for his own health) or something.

A week ago, I told my sister-in-law that the boyfriend wasn't allowed up to my place for the Christmas dinner because I was afraid he would actually go through my upstairs floor apartment and possibly land on and kill the tenants below. It sounds funny, but in his case, I think it could happen. Beside, I don't have anything he could sit on and take his weight without being crushed to molecules.

This same guy has had his picture in the local paper for entering and winning these all-you-can-gorge-on contests. One contest was for how many Twinkies you can stuff in your big fat face and the other was for pigging out on corn dogs or something like that. In other words, he not only engages in gluttony, he flaunts it, is proud of it and celebrates it by entering in these disgusting competitions.

When my mother-in-law overheard me talking to my sister, Christmas Day, about this dude, she got bent out of shape about it and started defending him. She told me how he had promised to marry my niece after he went through culinary art school and how nice he was and how he made her cry by saying all this wonderful stuff about her granddaughter and so on. With the rate he's going, I don't think he's going to live long enough to accomplish any of his goals.

I have asked my mother-in-law and my sister-in-law if anyone has ever warned him that being morbidly obese like that was a danger to his health. Both said, "No." They said that as far as they knew, not even the boy's parents have tried to talk to him about it or curb his weight with correctly portioned meals.

I said, "That makes me sick to hear that and I don't really have anything to do with him."

In fact, the boy's parents actually encourage their kid to go to my sister-in-law's place to eat all of her food when it's dinner time. And eat, he does. Everything. In. Sight. And nothing is ever said to him about that, either. Disgusting and amazing. I would have already knocked his ass out with a baseball bat, or at the very least, tell him to go graze in the back yard for nourishment. My tolerance for repetitious ignorant behavior is little to none. It's a good thing I don't have children.

Strangely enough, I've been told this enormous 18 year old kid's health is okay. For now, I'm guessing . Of course, it will be just a matter of time before he will eventually have problems with any or all of the following: Diabetes. Coronary Heart Disease. High Blood Pressure. Stroke.

To name just a few.

While I'm on the subject of diabetes and other health problems associated with that disease, another curious type of behavior has come to my attention. I know of two family members and a friend who have severe diabetes and a few of the other health conditions I mentioned and none of them seem to give a shit about it. They eat and drink whatever they want, no matter how much sugar and fat it contains. INSANITY.

Look everyone, FREE DIABETES! Come and get it!

If people want to kill themselves by ingesting whatever they want while having diabetes, they're going about it in the slowest, most torturous way possible- aside from disemboweling yourself with a small fork.

The truth is: Diabetes is synonymous with a gradual, often painful degradation of the body's parts and internal organs and ultimately- death will fuck you in the ass, as a result- with no lubricant. When you have diabetes, like I happen to have, just giving a "fuck it" attitude towards it and consuming what you want, guarantees all manner of horrible things to come your way. Like being hooked up to a kidney dialysis machine, for instance (no more caffeine for you, fucker). Or how about the lack of good blood circulation which will cause you to lose your feet and your sight. Does that sound like a good time? And healing from a wound or overcoming sickness, no matter how minor? Forget about it, baby!

Here's a funny story... As I was plunging an insulin needle into my belly a couple days ago, a friend knocked on the door. Since I knew who it was, I told him to come in. He came inside the apartment and was jabbering away about letting himself in until he noticed me slowly inserting a needle into my belly.

As I was cringing and curling my toes in discomfort, he asks, "Does that hurt?"

I didn't reply at first because (A) That's a stupid question and (B) I'm kind of busy at the moment and (C) If I don't focus on where I'm puncturing, I could bend the needle in my belly and tear open my flesh. I've done that last one a couple times, due to my wife causing me stress with inane jabber or the time when I was on the cruise ship and it lurched to the right while the needle slit my belly open. Good times!

Anyhow, my wife comes home from work and gives my friend a Christmas gift that I'm thinking he will likely take a pass on because he suffers from diabetes and has to take a couple pills for, as a result (no insulin yet, but he's working on it, I think). The gift he opens is a nearly two pound bag of gourmet chocolate caramel covered popcorn that has about a trillion (or so) grams of sugar in every piece. My wife thought he would like it because he likes sweets. I was just going to him a gift certificate at Lowe's or something but she thought of this, instead. Eh, okay.

Anyway, he opens the bag and instantly starts to gobble down the the contents of the bag with reckless abandon, diabetes be damned. I laughed, as i always do when I see someone doing something bizarre and I asked, "What about your diabetes?"

He said, almost incoherently, while munching and crunching, "My last blood sugar test result at the doctor's office turned out okay."

For now, I thought. He's very lucky in the way that he eats and doesn't exercise that his blood sugar counts haven't skyrocketed. I, on the other hand, watch what I eat and exercise and I'm forced to take insulin and pills for my diabetes. Go figure. Am I somewhat jealous? You bet. I'm not perfect by any means.

The last couple of weeks, I've been severely depressed because of mom not being here for the fifth Christmas in a row. She died in August of 2005 and I was closer to her than any other member of the family. The inner family fracturing, squabbling and accusing my father of killing my mother by my grandmother just adds heaping helpings of stress to my usual decaying mental health at this time of year. To counteract this, I would go out and take pictures of Christmas scenery in the town surrounding me. Only when I'm not around the usual negative people (family and friends) and outside, do I receive anything remotely describing peace. Sad, isn't it?

You can see these holiday pictures at my other website, Pics For Kicks. Going out and taking these pics is very therapeutic. And taking the holiday shots reminds me of the times, every Christmas, when my sister, dad, mom and I would go out, drive around at night and look at all the decorated holiday scenery in all of the neighboring towns.

To top off the near ending of the holidays, my dad slipped, fell and cracked his head wide open on the corner of a wall the day after Christmas. He's okay now but it scared the shit out of my sister and I. He fell at the assisted living place he's living in, due to taking his diabetes medicine but not eating any food with his medication. That will drop the ol' blood sugar to the basement. When I came to the emergency room, he was lying in the hospital bed, talking calmly to me, like nothing happened.

He looked fine but then...

As I sat down in a chair, he asked how he looked to me. All I could see at the moment was a tiny paper cut on his forehead. I said, " You look alright to me. Just a small cut above your nose."

I wondered silently why he had been rushed to the hospital.

But then...

I saw blood spreading on the pillow behind his head. I got up, walked over behind his bed and saw the four inch gaping gash in his scalp on the back of his head and almost fainted. Just then a nurse walked in and put a fresh bandage on his head. Five or so minutes pass and a doctor walks into the room, takes a stapler and staples the gash together with 8 staples.

Ca-Chunk... Ca- Chunk... and so on. He ended up staying overnight because his blood sugar was so low it wasn't even registering on the meter.

I remember the sound of staples going into flesh quite well since I had the same thing done to me when I was 21. Right after my double hernia surgery. I sat in a slightly leaned back chair as Dr. Frable Ca-Chunked Ca-Chunked twenty one staples between my belly and just above my crotch. He gave no warning he was about to do this. All he said beforehand was that he was going to check how the two wide incisions appeared. And then the surprise! Whoopee!

Good times.

Trying to fuck without literally busting a gut was quite the trick back then but I somehow did it. Back then I didn't have diabetes but I did have raging, horny hormones that made me do stupid things like trying to fuck not long after surgery.

Anyway, dad is back at the assisted living place. They're keeping an eye on him and making sure he doesn't go out and drive while healing. He's under strict doctor's orders. I'm sure today or any of the upcoming days he will be screaming and throwing the usual verbal insults at my sister and I, thinking we had something to do with this. Business, as usual.

Yep. Happy fuckin' holidays, everyone. I'm sure the new year will be just as delightful (sarcasm intended) as 2010, minus the honestly pleasurable reprieve of the week long Caribbean cruise we went on this past summer and the times I wasn't around family. During those times, I had nothing but peace.

Below, you'll find a humorous, truthful Christmas message from Bill Maher. After watching it, remember that Oprah Winfrey will or already has debuted her private network, OWN. Which, of course, stands for the Oprah Winfrey Network.

A Christmas Message from Bill Maher - watch more funny videos