Toadie in "Haunted Bordello" (Final Chapter)

If you haven't read the first two installments of this enchanting tale, click here for Part One and here for Part Two.

The spirit of "Bent Joe" Paulson stepped menacingly toward Toadie, Val and the ghost, Annie, interrupting their lovemaking.

Wide-eyed, Toadie stuttered until he could finally say, "Toadie may be frightened to the point of shitting himself silly right now... but Toadie can't help to wonder... Why do they call you "Bent Joe?"

Annie warned, "Don't rile up his tail feathers, Mr. Toadie!"

The cowboy ghost dropped his pants and pointed to his crooked ghostly penis.

"Bent Joe" growled, "This is why, you mush-headed, numb-nutted dimwit! You satisfied now?"

Toadie replied, "Toadie thinks you have a bad case of acute dicklopsidedness."

Snarling, the ghost got up into Toadie's face and said, "You sayin' I have a cute dick?"

The sound of a car pulling up, down below, cut through the dead silence of the night.

"Bent Joe" Paulson pulled up his pants, cocked his head with a curious expression on his face and said, "I sense one of my kinfolk is here."

What the cowboy ghost was sensing was the sudden arrival of his great-great grandson, Henry Paulson. Paulson had, coincidentally, turned into the old west town as a means of escape.

Henry Paulson had made a lot of people angry with his latest televised interview because of his statements concerning why he thought people of the Occupy Movement were so angry. He was completely off the mark with his remarks. An Occupy group had caught sight of Paulson, outside the studio after his interview and wanted to share their opinions with him.

Instead of being bothered further with any more questions or accusations, Paulson had waved them off before saying, "Go get a job instead of complaining. It's your fault that you're poor."

With that said, the group ran towards him, shaking their fists and shouting obscenities. The former CEO of Goldman Sachs got into his limousine, told his driver to start the car and leave the city, immediately.

Wanting to avoid the peasants and miscreants of the area, altogether, Paulson instructed his chauffeur to take him on a few quiet desert roads for a bit of peace and untroubled thinking. While the chauffer drove Paulson on a few mostly desolate roads, the wealthy man poured himself glass after glass of expensive cognac until finally, they arrived at a ghost town.

Looking out the window, the old man nervously searched the area around them. He thought he saw a pair of glowing eyes peering over the saloon doors of an old bordello. Within a few seconds, they disappeared.

Then the limo's engine began sputtering.

"What's wrong with the car?" asked Paulson.

The driver shrugged and said, "I don't know, sir. It was given a tune up not long ago."

That's when the limousine stopped running, completely. The driver and Paulson immediately pulled out their cell phones. Neither of them were working. Suddenly, all the lights and the electronics in the car went out. They were sitting in near darkness with only the moonlight shining dimly around them.

Paulson's chauffeur, Riley, said, "Sir, I'm going to have a look around and see if I can find a phone or something we can use."

Riley got out of the car. Not wanting to be left alone, Paulson opened the car door and joined his driver. "Hold on," said the old man, "Another pair of eyes may help."

After finding out the flashlights in the limousine didn't work, Riley and Paulson started walking. The crunch of their footfalls and their breathing were the only sounds that they heard. And then a voice came from the nearby saloon.

"What are you looking for?"

At first, Paulson thought he might be imagining the voice- until he saw that it was obvious that Riley had heard it, as well.

Riley, unafraid, walked up to the doors of the saloon asked, "Who's in here?"

Receiving no answers, Riley pushed open the swinging doors of the saloon. The chauffeur walked inside. Paulson stayed close behind him. They were at the bar when a fiery orb appeared from nowhere. The orb quickly transformed into a recognizable human form- at least, to Paulson, it was recognizable.

The ghost said, "The word is, is that you've been an ornery, inconsiderate sonabitch, my great-great grandson."

Paulson placed his hand on his head. He was feeling faint. Perspiration, with traces of blood, ran down his face and neck until it soaked into the collar of his once neatly pressed dress shirt.

After gathering the strength and courage to speak, Paulson said, "You're my great-great grandfather. How can this be?"

Before the ghost could reply to his kinfolk's inquiry, Toadie and Valerie came down the steps. Annie floated down and met them. All eyes were fixated on "Bent Joe" until Valerie and her seemingly dim-witted friend, Toadie, recognized the old man in the business suit.

Toadie laughed and felt a thunderous cloud of methane pop out of his anus. The uncomfortable silence had been shattered by the awkward fart and caused everyone to turn toward Toadie. Everyone, including "Bent Joe".

Toadie pointed at Paulson and stated, "Toadie agrees with "Bent Joe". You are a sonafabitch."

Paulson was taken aback by the slightly retarded man and his words.

Toadie continued, "Don't act confused or startled, you fucking turd! You, Ben Bernanke, Alan Greenspan and the rest of the major guilty players in the great debacle that is our current Great Recession, allowed the housing bubble to expand to the point of exploding in everyone's faces. And instead of bailing out homeowners, they bailed out greedy bankers, causing events to be triggered that very quickly caused our economy to go into a horrible downward spiral. Because of people like you, who had a major part in keeping up the deregulation of the financial industry, we are experiencing the residual effects of not only your greed but your inconsideration of the people in this country. Meanwhile, you stay wealthy, get wealthier, manipulate the media, the government and generally tell the vast majority of the public to go fuck themselves and make out like they are the ones who are the criminals. All you care about is money, power and manipulation. The majority of people in this country, who are the neglected... who are protesting, meanwhile, are arrested... or worse."

"Bent Joe" pushed at Paulson's chest, crying out, "You're nothin' but a piece of snobby, arrogant, thievin' shit!"

Henry Paulson stumbled back and stuck his foot into an old spittoon. Panicking, Paulson felt the spittoon latch onto his foot, pressing the leather of his shoe against flesh and bone. Unbeknownst to the living folks inside the saloon, the spittoon was possessed by the spirit of Toadie's great-great grandfather, Gregory McKelly.

The spittoon laughed when Paulson fell on his ass. A sharp pain followed, causing the old man to scream in agony. It felt like something had abruptly fractured or broke near his ass. Riley pulled the spittoon off of his employer's foot and tossed it to the side. A face appeared on the spittoon as it shook and rattled across the room. The spittoon emitted an eerie bale of laughter as it skittered and rolled back and forth across the old wooden floor.

Riley freaked out and ran out of the saloon, leaving the old man to fend for himself. Paulson crawled out the door like an injured cockroach. His chauffeur got into the car and tried starting the car. Fortunately, it started. Riley looked over at Henry Paulson, saluted him and promptly left the haunted ghost town, spinning his wheels and leaving his employer in a cloud of dust and exhaust fumes.

"Wait for me!" commanded the old man, as he writhed in pain, finally making it out of the saloon.

Toadie, Val and Annie laughed at the old man, turned their backs and headed upstairs for a sprightly human/ghost orgy. As far as they were concerned, the show was over and there was nothing more to say. They opened the door to the room upstairs and very quickly got busy.

The spirit of Paulson's great-great grandfather remained for a few moments, staring at Paulson's quivering form and then shook his head before stating, "You only have yourself to blame, son."

And then he vanished, entirely.

The next day, Toadie and Valerie thanked Annie for the great time. When they left the saloon, the engaged couple stepped over Paulson, who was still moaning and continued to walk out of the old western town, hoping that someone would eventually come down the highway and offer them a ride. Luckily, they were found and taken back to a town where they could rent a car and continue their travels westward.

And this concludes our story, folks. Have a dandy weekend!

For more Tales of the Toadie, click on any or all of these fine links:

Toadie in "Happy Anniversary"

Toadie in "Road Rage Spectacular"

Toadie in "First Love"

Toadie in "The Christmas Trip" (Part 1)

Toadie in "The Christmas Trip" (Part 2)

Life Lessons From Father To Son

Minutes after placing the plastic Santa, sleigh, reindeer, snowman in the yard and decorating the house with many festive lights in order to give Sean's residence the appearance of a typical American home during the much commercialized season, Sean placed his arm around Timmy's shoulder. The 40 year old corporate executive was proud of his accomplishment. It was important, in Sean's mind, that he keep up with the other neighbors' decorated yards in his suburb. He looked down to see if his son was taking in the grandeur of the perfectly well placed decorations and lights, as well. As usual, Timmy was preoccupied with the latest version of his iPod, texting away another irrelevant message to a friend in a long line of trivial messages.

That reminded Sean. He needed to buy himself an upgraded version of an electronic gadget he had bought only a month ago. Texting, instant messaging and twittering was such a vital part of Sean's life and he just had to have the very latest electronic gadget in order to keep up with appearances and to make himself feel just that much more special than anyone who didn't have the latest electronic gadget at the moment. Sean's cars, mansion, big screen TVs, yacht and the rest of his possessions meant everything to him. After all, Sean thought, your portfolio, your money and the material things you own is a reflection upon your true value in society. And this thought, in turn, reminded Sean that he needed to have a serious talk with his 12 year old son about the facts of life.

"Son," said Sean, demanding Timmy's attention, "I think it's time we had THE TALK."

Sean had to snap the texting device out of Timmy's hands in order to stop the boy's addictive behavior and get his attention. It seemed that everyone during this time had such an addiction to electronic gadgets. At times, it seemed as though they were mindless texting, cell phone- talking zombies, incapable of standing in front of someone and communicating directly to them. With blank stares upon their little screens, they tappity-tap-tapped upon their hand held device's buttons, pausing only if it was absolutely necessary.

Timmy whined, "Hey, I was texting something to Ricky."

Sean said, "When we're finished talking, I'll let you have it back. Don't worry."

Timmy got a pout-y look on his face, thinking it would gain him back his gadget. It didn't. It was one of the few times Timmy didn't get his way with Sean.

Sean started, "It's time for you to know just how important is to run with the pack. To conform. Be a complete team player in life. And perhaps, most importantly, never differentiate from the norm so everyone, from your classmates in school to your fellow players in an organized league to your future co-workers in the office, will accept you during life. Never rock the boat."

Timmy looked up, asked, "Office? Why do I have to work in an office? Why can't I work at the supermarket with Uncle Frank?"

Sean laughed and then continued explaining, "Your Uncle Frank is what we call a loser. A no account. A grunt who performs routine tasks. A nothing, in truth."

"Why do you say that?," inquired Timmy.

As Sean walked Timmy back to the warmth of the interior of the mansion, the father said, "Uncle Frank didn't go to college. Instead of choosing a career where he would earn an annual six figure salary, Frank decided to waste his life and opportunities to work behind a deli counter, never to achieve what you kids today call the "awesomeness" of having considerable wealth and exceptional stature." With this said, Sean winked and nodded, affirmatively. He was hoping to get through to his son the importance of appearances and the never ending goal of attaining vast wealth throughout his lifetime.

As they stepped inside, Sean instructed Timmy to sit at the table for more enlightenment. At the table, Timmy said, "I don't understand. I always thought Uncle Frank was pretty happy. He's always smiling, the couple of times I've seen him."

Sean replied, "It doesn't matter if Uncle Frank is happy. What's important is wealth and conformity. Frank, from the day he was born, hasn't followed the rules of American society and as a result, doesn't measure up to our standards, my son. It's just that simple."

Timmy seemed confused at first, but then his expression brightened.

"So that's why you never invite Uncle Frank to Christmas or Thanksgiving every year," said Timmy, pleased that his father was smiling at his sudden comprehension.

Sean patted the boy on the head and said, happily, "You betcha!"

Timmy exclaimed, "Uncle Frank isn't as good as we are!"

"Why Frank has hardly any value as a human being at all," confided Sean, proud that his boy was eagerly learning a valuable lesson.

Timmy and Sean laughed heartily. This is going to be a wonderful day, thought Sean. The boy was soaking in all the wisdom Sean had to offer like a thirsty sponge.

At that moment, Vicky, Sean's wife walked in from the living room. She asked, "Will you boys be ready to go shopping in about an hour?" Sean and Timmy nodded. "There's a new upscale department store in the city that I've wanted to go into and we have reservations at The Capital Grille later tonight. I hear the Seared Tenderloin with Butter Poached Lobster is out of this world. I"m just so looking forward to eating there."

Sean and Timmy decided to go into the living room to watch TV. A news program was playing, showing the plight of people that had lost their jobs, recently, and were having trouble keeping their homes.

Timmy giggled, pointed and then exclaimed, "Look, dad! Poor people! They're stupid!"

Sean confirmed Timmy's outburst, saying, "That's right, son!"

Sean continued, "And if you should see any people at any time like this or any other losers that ask you for a handout, just pretend that they don't exist. It's easy. And it's the American Way"

The next images were of people fighting a war in the Middle East. Sean thought he could contribute more to his son's education by explaining the reason we were at war.

Sean asked, "Do you know the reason why our young soldiers are risking their lives over in the far away country called...? Eh, I forget the name at the moment... but that's not important anyway."

Timmy said, "Nope. I never really cared. Whenever they talk about war stuff on TV, I usually turn on my PS3 and play games."

Sean thought, Well, I really can't blame him there. Whenever the subject of whatever war we were currently in came on the screen, he'd quickly change channels to some televised sporting event.

"Well," said Sean, "The reason we go to war with people that are different than us is due to a number of things. One, they might have something that we want. Like oil, for instance. Two, our corporations and our government may have found ways to make a profit from setting up our "democracy bases" in these countries, therefore, we should be there. And three, it's the patriotic thing to do."

Timmy said, "I thought I heard it was about terrorism or somethin'."

Sean put his hand on his son's arm while saying, "Well, son, our government and politicians have used fear mongering and terms suggesting that you're not a true patriot unless you want go to another country and kill their people who have nothing to do with terrorism, per se. In fact, a lot of innocent civilians are killed over there for really unfair reasons, I suppose, if you really want to dwell on that sort of thing. Our own soldiers die over there, as well, but hey, ya gotta crack a few eggs to make an omelet."

Sean pointed up toward the air and said, triumphantly, "Heck, our country was practically taken and founded upon the massacre of people different than us. You've heard of Indians, right? Well, we had to wipe them out early on in order to spread across this land like a virus. They had our land and we took it from them. We even let a few of them live. 'Might is right', as they say."

Sean laughed a bit and then added, "But who says life has to be fair? It's the end result that counts. As Americans, we have to protect our gluttonous, selfish way of life by doing things that may seem immoral to some losers but that doesn't really matter. Money matters. Satisfying our needs is what matters. Doing what the government tells you to do and what to believe, no matter how much you think it is a lie, is what truly matters."

Timmy thought about what his father said and though a lot of it didn't make sense, he decided to go along with it. It seemed to him that if everyone else was going along with these rules, then it must be right.

Timmy said, "I guess I get it."

Sean said, "That's all I need to hear. Just remember... the majority is always right. Think and act like everyone else and you'll do just fine. In the future, you'll go to college, get a high paying career, get married, buy a big house and other expensive items, raise a couple rug-rats of your own and never question authority or the government. Don't rock the boat."

Timmy smiled and then said the words a father wants to hear the most from his son.

"I want to be just like you when I grow up, dad."

Sean said, "You betcha, son." Sean, assured of Timmy's compliance with all that was said, gave Timmy his iPod back.

Minutes later, the family gathered into the limousine and were taken into the city for a day and night of heavily commercialized Christmas shopping and fine dining. Life couldn't be better for Sean. Sean felt he had instilled valuable life lessons in his son and took exceptional pride in that accomplishment.

Alice In Wonderland

If I'm watching the trailers, correctly, for this latest movie version of Alice in Wonderland, I would have to say the people who made this flick had to have been dropping some major acid. I'm sure you've seen the previews at one time or another. They come on TV about every three seconds or so. That tells me it will either blow cat chunks or... or it will blow a deranged transvestite wearing a funny hat and freaky makeup. Kinda like that picture of Johnny Depp in the upper left corner.

Scary shit!

Still, with all that said, I will likely go see it this weekend or the next. I might have to smoke something for several hours before truckin' off to the theatre, you know... banana peels or something to be able to fully get into this flick, but I'd still like to see it. Eh, I've taken my chances with Tim Burton movies before and I have managed to enjoy a little over half of them, thus far.

Escapist movies are all the rage now, due to the recession and unemployment woes of a nation whose public is considered unworthy of consideration by an ultra-uptight, wealthy, idiotic conservative party called Republicans. Not that I'm pointing any fingers at anyone. Ahem.

I've never read the books, written by English author, Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (better known as Lewis Carroll) but from what little I have read of those books, Alice's adventures seem to be rife with insane, menacing characters and mind blowing, psychedelic imagery. Not to mention quite a few drug references. For example, check out this synopsis of chapter five from Wikpedia.org:

Chapter 5- Advice from a Caterpillar -Alice comes upon a mushroom and sitting on it is a Caterpillar smoking a hookah. The Caterpillar questions Alice and she admits to her current identity crisis, compounded by her inability to remember a poem. Before crawling away, the caterpillar tells Alice that one side of the mushroom will make her taller and the other side will make her shorter. She breaks off two pieces from the mushroom. One side makes her shrink smaller than ever, while another causes her neck to grow high into the trees, where a pigeon mistakes her for a serpent. With some effort, Alice brings herself back to her usual height. She stumbles upon a small estate and uses the mushroom to reach a more appropriate height.

I'm no expert but that sounds suspiciously like someone was hittin' the ol' bong-eroo (or hookah) back in 1865.

Anyway, the movie might prove to be fun. Even funny, in a strange sort of way. In any event, I definitely want to see it, if only, for what looks to be a fantastic spectacle.

At Least There's The Cruise, the Beautiful Water and The Islands

First off, I know how terribly late I am in doing this but I will anyway--

Happy New Year, Everyone!

This past year, as least I believe, has been one of changes and extremes- for this world's population and I.

I could name off the election and inauguration of a black man into the presidency, a recession where corporations gladly took the taxpayer's money and gave themselves outrageous bonuses or the heroics of a pilot, crash landing in the Hudson bay, saving lives by remaining calm and using good judgement in everything he did during the incident. But why bother?

But those big important moments and more I haven't mentioned, which the media has hashed and rehashed for ratings and profit purposes, has already been covered to death.

My own big changes have come by way of me beginning to fight my way out of depression and slowly, yet surely, become healthier. It's been a battle. One that I'm just beginning. You can read more about that in my most recent posts.

What I didn't include was the problems with my dad.

My dad, who suffers from dementia, severe hearing loss, an almost complete lack of tact when around family member or others and a verbally abusive, negative attitude that hasn't helped me get better, unfortunately. I help him whenever possible. Honestly, I do this halfway out of love and halfway from the screwed up guidance of my old friend, guilt. I take him here and there for errands or moving things in and out and around his house or whatever he needs or thinks he needs. Eighty percent of the times we're together, an argument erupts during the 6 to 8 hours I spend with him two to three days of the week.

If the argument is bad enough, I try not to speak to him for close to a week in order to bring some semblance of truce back to our relationship.

My sister takes care of his finances. She is his Power of Attorney. She has had her own drama with Dad. For the moment, he has someone else that cleans his house, do dishes and on. Dad has a special hobby, I should add. He likes to throw everything on the floor. My sister and I clean up the little obstacle courses on the floors, still, and inevitably, it will be the same the next day. He creates a monumental amount of stress with my sister and I and it will only worsen (maybe) when we finally get him settled into the assisted living place.

We'll see. Maybe, and I'm thinking in terms of a normal, non-verbally abusive, semi-cooperative person, he will create or establish decent relationships (I'd settle for no trouble) there with the rest of the residents living under the same roof.

Like the post title says, I least I have a cruise to look forward to that my wife and I are going on this summer. I can't wait. It has been twenty one years since we, just us, really went away somewhere. Unless you count the place a hundred miles above us. We made plans with our travel agent for our flight to Florida, the excursions on the three islands we're visiting and other itinerary. I'm even going to try my hand at snorkeling. I can't wait to experience the clear blue water, the beaches and marine life. Most of all, I cant wait to experience the peace of the being out on the water for seven days, look out at the grandeur at the big moon, the light hitting the water. That's what it's really about. The peace.

Hopefully no one or group will ruin our trip somehow.

I might not come back. Now that would be a fantasy!

Unfortunately, the insanity and chaos others have created for me here, have secured my future here. But I can dream, can't I?

The above picture is one of Orient Bay, in St. Maarten. That is one of the beautiful islands we're going off to port. The more I look at this picture (I have it on the backround of my monitor), the more I wish I were there now.

God, to be in peace.

Media Provides New Mass Hysteria

You can always count on the tv news, Internet and newspapers to work their usual redundancy on one or two topics, for however long, until they catch on that the viewers/readers are getting bored with it and then they move on to the next thing to hype. Hell, if they're not trying to scare us with the possibility of a hacker attacking our power grids, it's a flu epidemic or the latest tiny tidbit about the recession.

The World Health Organization (WHO) has come out with the news that they're going to change the name of swine flu to something else. It seems folks around the world are panicking from all the media hype and killing off all the pigs for fear of getting the flu. Dumbasses. The brand new name for it is influenza A(H1N1). Thanks, I feel much better now.

Who knows? Maybe this swine flu really will turn out to be fatal for the masses. But until then, when I see some real numbers, I refuse to give a shit. Don't give me this 6 dead here or 1 with the sniffles there. More people than that are dying with AIDS every day.

Hey, wait a minute, we haven't had a terrorist scare in awhile. Isn't it about time for one of those? Do they still have the "color wheel" notifications? Was there ever a teal alert? I really like that color. There was a time, in the past, when I would get caught up in the media frenzy over the "big deal of the day". I'll admit it. But after the media monster has "cried wolf" far too many times over the years, you get tired of it and wise up. At least, I have.

The reasons they hype it up could be any of the following:

A) To get big ratings/make money
B) To offer a distraction from the real news that certain political and powerful organizations would have reason for the public not to see
C) Just because there is no other news so they have to hype something in order for consumers to watch and buy what the advertisers are hyping in their commercials/printed ads/propaganda.

In summary, my recommendation is to not freak out. Calm down. More importantly, when you see any news that you believe may be hyped for any of the reasons listed above, give it the finger and pride yourself on being smart enough to know better.

Greed: Our Number One Cultural Disease

AIG bonuses, corporate bailouts, bank bailouts and the enormous salaries given to, but NOT EARNED, by corporate executives. I don't understand why we accept these unethical offenses from the rich. Is greed a subject learned or ingrained into our minds from childhood through adulthood. Is money and/or the material crap really the ultimate goal in this society?



For me, this great video shed excellent light on why we are like this. Do me a favor. Watch the video. Listen to it. Even if you don't agree with it, I bet it will make you think.

With All The Compassion Of A Bush

So how do you feel about Dictator Bush's band-aid for the economy? Face it, folks. We are already in the middle of a recession. Denial is a major symptom of mental illness. And we, as a nation, should be thrown in the Looney Bin.

This plan he concocted is a matter of too little-too late. And by little, look at what this rebate of his entails:

The minimum rebate check would be $300 and range up to a maximum of $1,800. The rebate is a refund of the taxes from eliminating the 10% tax bracket. The dollar amounts are determined by an individual's earned income and family size. Unmarried individuals would receive a rebate of up to $600, and married couples a rebate of up to $1,200. Plus, there will be a $300 rebate per child, up to a max of two children.

Sorry, but that's not going to cut it. With the amount of unemployment on the rise, poor store sales and the continued substantial losses in the stock market every day, this idea and this small amount money is insulting.

And remember.... it's not the government's money. It's really your money that they're giving back to you.