Sexual Compulsion

I am a reluctant member of a community that has adopted Sexual Compulsion and Addiction as a cultural badge of honor and celebrates and values sexual promiscuity and conquest above relationships, love, intimacy and commitment. This "culture" has resulted in the birth of a plethora of gay Internet "hook up sites" that reduces sex (and the "quest" for it) to the equivalent of getting a "meal" at McDonald's or any number of other fast food joints, the most popular of which (of the gay sex hookup sites NOT the fast food places... it's so easy to get them confused I know...) is a site called Manhunt. The very name conjures up imagery of men as nothing more than animals to be hunted, conquered and mounted and finally displayed in the trophy room. It also happens to be a great place to get drugs and a multitude of diseases and they even slyly promote this kind of activity. They should rename it McManhunt (where EVERYTHING HAS to be Super-Sized) and have Grimace as their mascot. It's fast, it's easy, there's always a couple of different items to choose from on the menu - and just like fast food, fast sex ultimately is BAD FOR YOU. There's no arguing this point. Just like fast food burgers clog your arteries, fast sex clogs your pleasure receptors. Just as fast food cripples your ability to discern (or even care about) the difference between good and bad food, fast sex has the same effect on one's ability to tell the difference between good and bad sex, and even worst, leaves you not really caring either way just so long as you meet the daily requirements of your diet.

Ignorance (as viewed by Frank Zappa)

More of the same - I couldn't say it better...


The Exaltation of Ignorance

Stupidity has a certain charm -- ignorance does not.
It has been said that ignorance is bliss -- I'm not so sure. Perhaps I have been deprived in this regard but,
never having been truly ignorant, I find it difficult to speak with any authority on the topic of such a
'blissful state.'
I have, however, observed a lot of other people who were certifiably ignorant, and I wouldn't say they
were in a state of 'bliss.' They were having a good time, but I wouldn't call it 'bliss.'
When we celebrate Ignorance, and make that the National Standard of Excellence, we embarrass
ourselves.
We celebrate it in hit records, TV sitcoms, most films, most commercials and, to a great extent, in our
schools.
Our school systems train kids to be ignorant, with style -- functional ignoramuses. They do not equip
students to deal with things like logic; they don't give them the criteria by which to judge between good
and bad in any product or situation. They are groomed and launched to function as mindless buying
machines for the products and concepts of a multinational military-industrial complex that needs a World
Of Dumbells to survive.
As long as you're just smart enough to do some kind of job, and just dumb enough to swallow the bunting,
you're going to be 'all right' -- but, if you venture beyond that, you run the risk of mysterious stomach
problems and migraine headaches.
I believe that U.S. schools have a Search and Destroy program, aimed at any hint of creative thinking
exhibited by students. Somebody plans this curriculum. Somebody writes those textbooks. Somebody sets
those standards. Somebody watches to make sure it all goes well. Somebody pays big bucks for this shit.

Stupidity as told by Frank Zappa

Following is an except from "The Real Frank Zappa Book" - I wanted to blog about the incredible amount of stupidity I witness every day but this says it so well there's little one can add...


Hydrogen

"As you grow older in your observation of the peoples of this Earth
world, it becomes more noticeable that stupidity is the reigning virtue.
The masses are always willing that somebody take the responsibility of
caring for them."
Paul Twitchell, The Far Country


Some scientists claim that hydrogen, because it is so plentiful, is the basic building block of the universe. I
dispute that. I say there is more stupidity than hydrogen, and that is the basic building block of the
universe.
This is not a matter of 'pessimism' vs. 'optimism' -- it's a matter of accurate assessment.
Not only is there more stupidity than anything else in terms of universal quantity, but there is a wonderful
quality to this stupidity. It is so intensely perfect that it completely overwhelms whatever it is that nature
has piled up on the other pan of the scale.
Stupidity is replicating itself at an astonishing rate. It breeds easily and is self-financing.
The person who stands up and says, "This is stupid," either is asked to 'behave' or, worse, is greeted with a
cheerful "Yes, we know! Isn't it terrific!"
When Hitler was doing his shit, a whole bunch of people thought he was terrific, too. How could they be
wrong? There were so many of them; they thought they looked good together -- their arms all went up at
the same time.
It seems to me that Americans in the eighties exhibit a remarkable willingness to embrace Fascism,
especially when it is presented to them on a TV tray with balloons and bunting all over it.
It would be easier to pay off the national debt overnight than to neutralize the long-range effects of OUR
NATIONAL STUPIDITY.
Forget about Iranian stupidity, or Chinese, or Russian, or South American, or Canadian stupidity -- our
very own homemade incompetence gets The Grand Prize.
We're not talking light-hearted foolishness here -- when we go for stupid we go for BIG STUPID -- like
people who shoot at you on the freeway, or the Rambos and Ramboettes who blow people away in
shopping malls and fast-food restaurants with automatic weapons.
Here it comes, folks! Watch it grow! One day, the BIG STUPID goes to a PTA meeting, winds through
the PTL Club, wends its way to the White House, spreads out from the Oval Office like a cow flop into
the judiciary system, dribbles over onto the desks of BIG BUSINESS, and the next thing you know we've
got THE VERY BIG STUPID.
THE VERY BIG STUPID is a thing which breeds by eating The Future. Have you seen it? It sometimes
disguises itself as a good-looking quarterly bottom line, derived by closing the R&D Department.
I can't think of any developing nation with a genuine 'fondness' for America. People in these countries see
America as a threat to their national security; they see US as an 'Evil Empire.' Everything Reagan said in
the early days about Russia is easily descriptive of our country, viewed by a developing nation.
Because we possess THE VERY BIG STUPID, they know there is always the possibility that we might
use it on them -- accidentally.
Folks, over the years we have developed a first-strike capability with this hideous weapon, and have
already deployed it several times, disguised as Reagan Administration 'foreign policy.'
Some people in the Imaginary Heartland of America might say, "Who gives a shit? They ain't going to get
us. They ain't coming over here. Why, some of em don't even have air-o-planes."
That kind of guy has bought stock in the THE VERY BIG STUPID, and has reaped a philosophical
dividend which states on its face that, as a Special Christian Nation, we have the right to stomp all over
the other guys (Manifest Destiny). God is on Our Side, and we're supposed to do this, because we're the
only creatures sophisticated enough to bring peace and sanity to the rest of the world.
Pheeeeeeeeuuuuuuuuwwwwwwwww.

Dale Jenkins

I recently came across an album recorded by a friend of mine by the name of Dale Jenkins way back in the early 1980's. Dale was a really nice fellow... tall, kinda geeky, troubled, but most of all a pretty talented musician. He and I had a casual friendship and talked a lot on the phone and hung out once in a while. He was a pretty depressed guy overall though... self conscious about his looks (although I always thought he was kind of sexy). We used to have long late night talks about all the usual teenage stuff... the meaning of life, the horrors of being a teenager and sexuality and so forth. A lot of our talks though were about how unhappy he was and his ultra-conservative religious mother who made him feel (according to him) worthless and evil. Dale did have a drug/alcohol/authority problem (like most teens of his age in that day) which landed him in a special school for troubled but gifted students. Dale was also gay... maybe bi, I don't know. I do know he wanted to date me and for some reason I turned him down repeatedly despite the fact that I was very fond of him. I don't think I was ready to fully admit to my own sexuality and at the time I didn't think he was my type at the time anyway. But we remained good friends throughout school... he would call me late at night and sing me various new songs and snippets of songs he had written. Usually dark and kind of sad but good nonetheless. After school ended we remained friends for a while but as so often happens we drifted apart and rarely spoke. There were a few nights when he called feeling suicidal but I was always able to bring him to his senses. Eventually though we just sort of stopped talking. I had heard he had made an album all on his own... produced by him and all instruments and songs performed and written by him. I was lucky enough to get one of a very limited amount of the records but for some reason never really listened to it. In any case, some time later, I opened the local gay newspaper to discover that sweet Dale was dead... an apparent suicide. I felt heartbroken and somewhat guilty in that I felt that had I been around I could have somehow saved him. Hell - we might have even ended up dating and falling in love. But I (and so many others I suppose) let him slip away. Recently I rediscovered his album in my collection and listened to it for the first time. Besides the fact that the songs are pretty well done I was struck by the pain and sorrow that permeated his lyrics. I wish I had not lost touch with him. He was a talented and nice (albeit troubled) young man who would have gone far in life. I did a search for him on the Internet and couldn't find one single reference to him anywhere which made me very sad. So this is Dale Jenkins' space on the Internet so that he won't ever be completely forgotten. He was a good guy and I miss him. Eventually I hope to present his single known album to anyone interested... in the meantime recognize the ones you love and hold on to them with all your strength. You never know when they will disappear from your life. More importantly, you never know when the loss of that person will hit you hardest... sometimes it's immediate and sometimes it sneaks up on you one day unexpectedly.... and sometimes it stays with you every moment of every day.

The main reason for this post is so that Dale won't be forgotten. I've done searches on the Internet with his name but came up with NO info about him. He deserves (like all people) to be remembered. If anyone out there is familiar with Dale or has any info on him please contact me so I can expand on his life.

I do hope eventually (if legal) to make his music available either here or via trade.

Peace!

Here's to Dale Jenkins may he rest in peace!

Ohhh Poor Poor Paris

Ok... does anyone really gives a rats ass about where Paris Hilton in incarcerated?

I know I don't. Let he stay in her mansion - set up a little pink cell for her sorry ass and feed her prison cell food and make the little spoiled crazy bitch pay for it.

What's the problem here?

I find it kind of funny that tonight on the news how lawyers are trying to prove she has a mental condition... who the fuck doesn't have a mental condition and who the hell can possible have seen her on that awful train wreck of a show and not known the girl is mentally ill?

We've been greatly and sufficiently entertained by your public display of total lack of self control and your talent at raising being a spoiled brat bitch but guess what darling?

Your time is up!

It's been up for a while... you overstayed your Warholian declared 15 minutes of fame now would you kindly GO THE FUCK AWAY AND GET SOME HELP YOU STUPID SPOILED WHORE?

After all... unlike MOST addicts and alcoholics YOU CAN AFFORD TO GET GOOD HELP!

Links to tests that YOU NEED TO TAKE

whatever you are doing right now - STOP IT!

This requires your undivided attention - don't bullshit here and say you don't have the time for this shit. You aren't nearly as important or busy as you pretend to be. So sit your sorry ass down for a half hour and take the following tests and learn a little about your TRUE NATURE. THIS IS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD!

That is if you have the balls to face the real you...

Your true aura

http://www.auracolors.com/auracolors-test.html

THE ASSHOLE/BITCH TEST

http://www.fuali.com/test.aspx?id=dd4c0ca6-a554-4cbe-b0e7-bc17462a412e

grrrr

Ok... So I am less than happy at this moment in time. For one thing I am working on my laptop and laptops are just a great big pain the ass to do any serious amount of typing without that an abundance of typos...mostly coz the keys are too tightly compressed together for a normal man sized hand. Just one more sign the midget/dwarf/faerie species area about to stage a wold revolution in which we normal folk" are gonna end up converted amusement park rides (the parachute drop, the roller coaster through the inside to a real human body yeeehhaaa!, and of course the FREAK GASTROINTESTINAL LOG FLUME!"). But that's not what's got me pissed. I woke at 5 AM this morning with my mind racing with thoughts that needed to be BLOGGED immediately or they would be forever lost to those lost fiend brain cells still remaining from my party days. So I bolt quietly from my bed and head to my laptop and switch on some CNN(CNN AND CSPAN always gets me going if there's no BBC news to watch) down in my living room getting ready to smoke a little and start writing my deep, thought provoking essay which contained (I kid you not!) the answers to each and ever question related to the meaning of life but BLOGGERS new BULLSHIT autosave didn't save my post and wouldn't let me manually save it either so now you will just have to go through life clueless as to what it is all about

SO BLOGGER SUCKS!

assholes semi-anonymous

I am surrounded by assholes everywhere. Even if you don't think you are one chances are that you probably are... just take a good look at all of the people you know - coworkers, loved ones, customers, total strangers, your parents, your children, your neighbors, your parole officer , your life mate, your paperboy, your grocer, people you in meet bars and at concerts, bums, crazy people, people attending funerals, people attending weddings, people attending a babies birth, people attending an execution and so on and so on. Face it - you are surrounded by shit-spewing tight asses who think their feces has the magnificent odor of a royal garden. Hell...even most of my friends are assholes (sorry guys but the truth hurts).





I'm an asshole too a good majority of the time.
BUT I KNOW IT AND I try to balance it out (even if just a little) by holding elevator doors for people and giving a homeless person a little money, or comfort someone who is feeling down or going though rough times. Hell, I even like baking cakes and treats for people I barely know to celebrate their birthdays or anniversaries or just to make them smile. I even buy flowers for co-workers once in a while. And rarely ever push old people down the stairs for my daily amusement (although it is always good for a laugh). But still, for the most part, I am an asshole. Like the times I am at the grocery store and some lazy bitch in front of me has an uncontrollable mutant epileptic pig tailed obnoxiously cute and pushy brat who will NOT SHUT THE FUCK UP about the candy the fat little piggie wants and how hot that little closeted gay boy on Teen People is while his/her/it's mom continues yacking away obliviously on her crappy cell phone( "Can you hear me now? How about if I YELL REAL LOUD HERE IN THE GROCERY AISLE?NOW CAN YOU HEAR ME?") about some meaningless and trivial matter that I shouldn't fucking have to listen to. I have been known on such occasions to berate (quite loudly) the parent as they try to continue their yacking on the phone - and if that fails I start in on the kid(s). Alec Baldwin has NOTHING on me when I get pissed! Sooner or later though I am bound to get arrested but I have no tolerance for bad parents or rude children so what choice do I have? All you folks spending all your time in public with that piece of plastic in your ear having what should be PRIVATE conversations need to know one thing:




Dumb All Over
-F. Zappa

Whoever we are
Wherever we're from
We shoulda noticed by now
Our behavior is dumb
And if our chances
Expect to improve
Its gonna take a lot more
Than tryin to remove
The other race
Or the other whatever
From the faceOf the planet
altogether
They call it the earth
Which is a dumb kinda name
But they named it right
cause we behave the same...
We are dumb all over
Dumb all over,
Yes we are
Dumb all over,
Near n far
Dumb all over,
Black n white
People, we is not wrapped tight
Nerds on the left
Nerds on the right
Religious fanatics
On the air every night
Sayin the bible
Tells the story
Makes the details
Sound real gory
bout what to do
If the geeks over there
Don't believe in the book
We got over here
You cant run a race
Without no feet
n pretty soon
There wont be no street
For dummies to jog on
Or doggies to dog on
Religious fanatics
Can make it be all gone
(I mean it wont blow up
n disappear
It'll just look ugly
For a thousand years...)

You cant run a country
By a book of religion
Not by a heap
Or a lump or a smidgen
Of foolish rules
Of ancient date
Designed to make
You all feel great
While you fold, spindle
And mutilate
Those unbelievers
From a neighboring state
To arms! to arms!
Hooray! that's great
Two legs ain't bad
Unless there's a crate
They ship the parts
To mama in
For souvenirs: two ears (get down!)
Not his, not hers, (but what the hey? )
The good book says:(it gotta be that way!)
But their book says:
Revenge the crusades...
With whips n chains
n hand grenades...
Two arms? two arms? Have another and another
Our God says:There ain't no other!
Our God says:Its all okay!
Our God says:This is the way!
It says in the book:
Burn n destroy...
n repent, n redeem n revenge, n deploy n rumble thee forth
To the land of the unbelieving scum on the other side
cause they don't go for whats in the book
n that makes em bad
So verily we must choppeth them up
And stompeth them down
Or rent a nice french bomb
To poof them out of existence
While leaving their real estate just where we need it
To use again
For temples in which to praise our god
(cause he can really take care of business!)
And when his humble TV servant
With humble white hair
And humble glasses
And a nice brown suit
And maybe a blond wife who takes phone calls
Tells us our God says
Its okay to do this stuff
Then we gotta do it,cause if we don't do it,
We ain't gwine up to hebbin!
(depending on which book you're using at theTime...cant use theirs... it don't work...its all lies...gotta use mine...)
Ain't that right?
That's what they say
Every night...
Every day...
Hey, we cant really be dumb
If were just following gods orders
Hey, lets get serious...
God knows what hes doin
He wrote this book here
And the book says:
He made us all to be just like him,
So...
If we're dumb...
Then God is dumb...
(and maybe even a little ugly on the side)

DING DONG FALWELLS DEAD!

Jerry Falwell was found dead in his office at Liberty University today. It is being speculated that he may have died of a heart rhythm abnormality.

I think not.

I think the evil little butterball was murdered.

And I know who did it.



Think about it... Falwell's outing of Tinky Winky in 1999 created a furor (not to be confused with the Fuhrer he created when his Moral Majority - which was neither - helped Ronald Reagan win the White House...) and led to the demise of the great 90's Supergroup known as the Teletubbies. Ultimately poor Tinky (who was humiliated by the allegations but never publicly denied them) lost everything... his family, his friends, his money, and his pride (get it? Pride? get it????). Then came the legendary "lost years" during which Tinky descended into a haze of drug and alcohol fueled self-destructive behaviour. For a while he was seen turning tricks behind a notoriously famous leather bar in San Francisco for money to support his all but crippling crystal meth addiction. There is the now infamous incident where Tinky, drunken out of his mind, heckled one of the Smothers Brothers during their standup act while wearing a tampon on his head. The poor guy was really messed up... I mean Tinky was utterly and totally destroyed by what Falwell did to him.

There are a couple of theories as to why Falwell outed poor Tinky. One theory says that Falwell was outraged by Tinky Winky and his friends use of the name "Teletubbies" as Falwell was not only one of the original Televangalists but also the first true teletubby (fat bastard that he was). The more accepted theory however, is that Rev. Falwell and Tinky had been having a secret affair for some time, but in late 1998 Tinky met a young Barney The Dinosaur and fell instantly head over heels in love. The two tried to keep their affair a secret but after several months, Falwell simply could no longer ignore the tabloid rumors and photos of Tinky and Barney out at all the big nightspots. In a jealous rage, he demanded Tinky immediately cut off all contact with Barney but Tinky refused, gathered his belongings from the Falwell mansion and moved into Barney's spacious uptown condo. The next morning Falwell was all over the news talking trash about poor Tinky... "He's purple... that's the color of the gays" and "He carries a purse... that's really gay" and "He has an upside down triangle on his head... that clinches it" and stuff like that. Falwell warned parents what a bad influence on their children (and society at large) this strange gay creature was and within days Tinky's endorsement deals had dried up (with the exception of a line of bizarre Tinky Winky clubwear and circuit party accessories), his agent and bandmates wouldn't return his calls and worst of all, Barney had kicked him out of the condo and was quickly distancing himself from Tinky. Tinky begged him to stay but Barney (also being a purple creature of questionable sexuality who worked with children) told Tinky he couldn't risk losing his dream of being a BIG STAR! And so, with that one terrible revelation, Falwell managed to destroy Tinky's life. Poor Tinky couldn't even retaliate by counter-outing him since Falwell had destroyed all evidence of their relationship, although there are rumors of a sizzling hot home sex movie floating around on the internet that they made together which showcases Tinky's "other enormous talent" as well as Falwell's unholy ability to accommodate Tinky's aforementioned talent. (And you thought Tommy Lee and Pamela Anderson had it going on...)

In recent years, Tinky's drinking and drug acquaintances say he often ranted about "that fat bastard who ruined my life" and had vowed to get revenge on Falwell no matter what. It is being reported now that he had been sited wandering the streets of Lynchburg not far from Liberty University for the past several weeks, muttering to himself and cursing at stop signs.

So my theory is that Tinky stalked Jerry for a few days, learning his routine and then broke into his office and butt fucked Jerry Falwell all the way to hell. Go ahead... bring Tinky Winky in for questioning... see if he has an alibi. Check Falwell's body both outside and in any...uh...orifices for a slimy, salty, purple liquid of some type.

Tinky did it - and I am glad. Falwell was a tremendous dick of a human being with no compassion for (and no understanding of) people "not like him".

I'm glad the douchebag is gone and I'm not ashamed to say it. One more nail in the coffin of the nightmare known as "The Reagan Era"



So thanks Tinky, wherever you are!
You did good little purple dude!

Scarey People Stupid Freaks

So I was online on a gay cruising site and I get this email from a 21 year old kid and in his email are several links to various sites on the Internet disputing the existence of HIV. Let me repeat that - a 21 YEAR OLD is trying to convince me that the virus that has been living in my body longer than he has been living on this Earth doesn't exist. The virus that I watched wipe out a huge chunk of the gay community in a few short years isn't real! And he believes this all because he has access to the Internet and found a few sites that agree with his nutjob viewpoint and offer "hard facts" to help him state his case. All I have to combat that with is 25 years of personal experience. Oh... and the vast majority of the scientific and medical community...

If you are one of those people who believes HIV doesn't exist let me just counter by saying I don't believe your brain exists. That's probably more likely in the end.

And if any of you morons really believe that HIV is an imaginary disease I would be more than happy to send you a vial of my blood for you to inject into yourself so that you can find out firsthand just how real it is. Dipshit!

The Wild, Wild... East??

Howdy pardners! Things is gettin mighty weird around these here parts... what with the new Congress and King George the Cowboy having a big ol showdown...

In response to King George's whinefest over Congress's passing of the bill that (hopefully) is finally going to bring an end to the aforementioned King's vendetta in Iraq (you tried to kill mah pappy now feel my wrath...), Nancy Pelosi (our brilliant Speaker of The House) said:

"Calm down with the threats... there's a new Congress in town..."

Oh my!! Someone in Congress who can actually speak the President's native language... Bad John Wayne Movie Cowboy-ese. I am so very impressed and excited! What a great moment in recent Amerikan History (misspelling intentional - I'll start using a "c" again when we start using the Constitution again ok?)... finally Congress has a translator who is fluent in the native language of the sitting President! Yeeeehaaaawwwwww!!!

At the same time it gives me a bit of the shivers though, I must admit. In the back of my head I am hearing that bad Cowboy showdown music (The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly). I'm seeing visions of citizen's scooping up their children and scurrying off the streets into the nearest shuttered building where they begin to barricade themselves while tumbleweeds roll down the empty streets. The sun is hanging low in the sky... casting long, ominous shadows down... uhm.... Pennsylvania Avenue I guess. More showdown music... the shootout is imminent... the tension is heavy in the air. All I know is I'm headin to the Saloon for a drink...

Jesus H Christ... Washington DC has turned into a bad Western B-movie. Can we at least charge the rest of the world some sort of small fee for providing this kind of entertainment?

Oh wait... the rest of the world is already paying out the ass for our shenanigans aren't they?

Oooops... sorry... our bad.

The Idiot Bastard King

Ahhh... gotta love the idiocy of "King George W. Bush"...

except from an article printed yesterday about the new funding bill for the "war in Iraq" that speaks for itself to the total idiocy of the man running this war -

A House committee on Thursday approved the spending bill. It includes a troop withdrawal deadline of Sept. 1, 2008. It also requires that troops receive proper training, equipment and rest, although Bush is permitted to waive those provisions.

Bush said all of those "arbitrary and restrictive conditions" are unacceptable.

"These restrictions would handcuff our generals in the field by denying them the flexibility they need to adjust their operations to the changing situation on the ground," he said. "And these restrictions would substitute the mandates of Congress for the considered judgment of our military commanders

Great idea - I mean really , do our troops really need all that equipment and training and rest? Why hell that stuff is for WHIMPS and we ain't no whimps here in Amerika! Suck it up boyz!!

I would just like to take this opportunity to apologize to the entire world for Amerika's current rampage and would like to gently remind you that we didn't actually elect the dickhead in charge of the rampage. Oh and if possible could you maybe send help? After all we are being held hostage by an Idiot Bastard King...

Van Who?

Yet another news report that has me laughing like a hyena...


Van Halen, R.E.M. head into rock hall

03/12/2007 11:48 PM, AP
David Bauder

Two of the biggest rock bands of the 1980s took different paths to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame on Monday — indie favorites R.E.M. with a happy reunion and party band Van Halen with a fragmentary turnout.

Only Van Halen's second lead singer, Sammy Hagar, and ex-bass player Michael Anthony turned up for their induction. Guitarist Eddie Van Halen has just gone into rehab and original lead singer David Lee Roth stayed away in a tiff over what he would perform.

Hagar said he wished his bandmates could be there, but "it's out of our control."

"It's hard for Mike and I to be up here to do this, but you couldn't have kept me away from this with a shotgun," Hagar said.

It took less to keep Roth away. He stood up the hall, reportedly because he couldn't agree on what to sing with the band Velvet Revolver, which offered a tribute. Joel Peresman, president and CEO of the Hall of Fame, said Roth was offered a chance to sing a song of his choice with the house band. "The decision not to come was solely his, not ours."

Hagar and Anthony joined Velvet Revolver to sing "Why Can't This Be Love."

How funny is it that the only members of the band that showed up are guys that got kicked out of the band? Why wasn't Alex Van Halen there... I mean it would have been nice to have at least one REAL Van Halen there to accept the award. And who the hell invited Velvet Revolver to this debacle? Even more importantly why is Velvet Revolver being tapped to replace Van Halen on their recently cancelled tour? Is it really a good idea to replace a band that dropped out of a tour due to their leader being in rehab with a band whose singer is legendary for his addiction troubles and has his own wing at every rehab clinic in the country? Yes Scott Weiland I mean you... is Eddie really that much more messed up than Scott? YIKES!! Best bet is this tour will never happen...

Priceless

I don't even know what to say about this story but when I stop laughing (if I ever do) I'm sure I will think of something...

Ambassador Recalled Amid Lurid Report
Conduct Called 'Unbecoming of a Diplomat'
Reuters
JERUSALEM (March 12) - Israel has recalled its ambassador in El Salvador after he was found drunk and naked with sex toys lying nearby in the yard of his official residence, Israeli media reports said on Monday.

A foreign ministry spokeswoman confirmed that the ambassador, Tsuriel Raphael, was recalled but offered no details. "The ministry sees his behavior as unbecoming of a diplomat," the spokeswoman said.

Israeli media reported that local police found Raphael in the yard of the official residence in San Salvador. The reports said he was drunk, naked, and bound and gagged with a rubber ball in his mouth and sex toys lying near him.

The foreign ministry spokeswoman said the incident took place two weeks ago.

"As soon as the episode was brought to attention of the foreign ministry it reacted and the ambassador was recalled to Israel. He is going to remain in Israel," she said.

Israel would seek another ambassador in El Salvador, an Israeli official said.

Now there's a goodwill ambassador!! And what an act to follow... I feel bad for his replacement...

Bad Writing 101

Ok... so howzabout a little break from the Long Strange Trip for a quick example of the kind of stuff that I notice every day that drives me freaking nuts?

Richard Jeni committed suicide a couple of days ago - here is a small excerpt from Sandy Cohen's AP article about the suicide and autopsy:

LOS ANGELES - An autopsy was performed Monday on comic Richard Jeni but the cause of his death won't be known for several weeks, according to the Los Angeles County coroner's office. Jeni died Saturday from a gunshot wound. He was 49.

"It was reported to us as a possible suicide," coroner's Capt. Ed Winter said Monday. He did not disclose what kind of weapon was used.

Ok... let's dissect this tiny little excerpt shall we? First sentence tells us Jeni is dead but the cause of death won't be known for several weeks. The VERY NEXT SENTENCE reads "Jeni died Saturday from a gunshot wound."

Uhm... do you see where I am going with this? I don't know about you but my head is starting to hurt already... not as bad as Jeni's but still...

Next sentence informs us that it was not disclosed what kind of weapon was used in the reported/suspected suicide.

I'm guessing (just guessing here... I'm no Sherlock Holmes or anything...) that the cause of death might have had something to do with the huge hole in his face/head that resulted from the GUNSHOT WOUND referred to in the first paragraph of the report. And I'd be brave enough to take it one step further and bet that the undisclosed weapon involved might just have been a GUN (once again just a guess based on the aforementioned sentence reading "Jeni died Saturday from a gunshot wound").

It had also been reported that Jeni's girlfriend was cooking him breakfast when he shot himself (or shoved the bullet into his skull with a hammer or whatever happened since the weapon used hasn't been disclosed and thusly we shouldn't assume it was a gun... maybe he pulled a Macguyver kind of thing with a rubber band, a paper clip, a straw and the bullet - we don't know for sure apparently).

So these questions beg to be asked:

Was Richard Jeni's girlfriend's cooking so incredibly bad that he felt suicide was the only way out of eating her swill without hurting her feelings? And if so couldn't he have just taken her to Denny's or something?

Is the LA Coroner's Office full of morons who need weeks to figure out that the huge hole the guy put in his head with the undisclosed weapon is what killed him? Are they covering something up... is this another JFK kind of thing? Back and to the left... back and to the left... Was Macguyver involved and that's why they can't disclose what the weapon was?

Or maybe does Sandy Cohen know something the coroner's office doesn't? Is she psychic? Where exactly was Sandy at the time of the alleged suicide? Does she have a solid alibi? What was her relationship with Jeni and how does she know all these things that the coroner's office doesn't? Shouldn't someone be interrogating her about now? (I'm kidding of course... OR AM I????)

Most importantly isn't there supposed to be Editor's who read this kind of crappy writing and (after reassembling their head's because the horrible writing made them explode) smack the stupid writer upside their heads?

Am I the only one noticing this kind of stupid shit or what?

By the way and just for the record I liked Jeni's comedy and it sucks that he's gone... this world needs as much humor and laughter as possible and Jeni's departure from our world leaves a silent void where a thunderous laugh should be.

The Long Cold Ugly 80's

So as the 70's came to a sad, whimpering end the world around us was changing drastically. Jimmy Carter admitted to having "sinned in his heart" in a Playboy Interview and was still elected President. That's how strongly the Nation had turned against the Republican Party. The mere idea of a Presidential Candidate giving an interview to Playboy magazine was fairly risky in a political sense but then to admit to "being a sinner" (even if only in his heart) should have been a death blow to his candidacy. But it wasn't. And for the record let me say I liked Carter and still do to this day. He was a good man who had the great misfortune to become President at a very bad moment in history. The Iran Hostage Crisis changed everything. Had President Carter's rescue mission been successful he would have been hailed as a hero and won re-election by a landslide and in all likelihood this country would be on a drastically different path than it is today. Unfortunately the rescue plan was doomed and so too was President Carter's chances at re-election as well as this country's hopes of becoming a shining beacon of democracy and freedom. The 80's were ushered in with the election of an aged ex-actor (and a bad one at that) Republican with strong ties to the Right Wing Conservative factions that would take control of Amerika's (no longer to be spelled with a C anymore) foreign and domestic policy the second Reagan took the Oath of Office.

Anyway... by the time the 80's had rolled around my father and brother were gone, leaving me and my mother alone. Dad would bring money by once a week for bills and groceries and such but otherwise was out of the picture despite the fact that he and my mother never legally separated. Mom had been in and out of the hospital but had more or less stabilized and had quit smoking for good. For a few years we had a relatively normal life. I graduated from high school in 1982 and since college wasn't really an option (both for financial reasons and the responsibility I had to take care of my mother) I began working. At the same time I had come out of the closet... well not exactly. You see, I had been in what I thought was a pretty discrete relationship with a boy I had met a year earlier. After about a year together he dumped me for my best friend - a girl I worked with. I was broken hearted having lost both my lover and best friend in one blow and fell into a deep depression. My mother called me into her room one day and flat out told me that she knew about me and my friend's relationship and wanted to know what happened. After telling her the whole story she had me call a friend from high school who was very obviously gay and asked him to show me where the gay bars were and get me laid. I kid you not. My mom was very very cool. Unfortunately, within 2 years her health declined to the point where she was hospitalized and put on a ventilator to help her breathe. She was in the hospital for several months and almost died a couple of times as we tried unsuccessfully to ween her from the ventilator. Her lungs were too far gone though and she spent the remainder of her life hooked to that machine. At that time it was unheard of for a patient on a ventilator to be taken care of at home due to the amount of attention and care vent patients required. I was told she would have to be placed in a nursing home and the only nursing home even remotely nearby was on the Eastern Shore of Maryland - a good 2 - 3 hours away. My mother and I both refused and gave the hospital folks two options - teach me how to care for her and arrange for supportive visiting nurses and let me take her home to live OR disconnect the ventilator and let me take her home to die. I spent the next couple of months learning how to suction the fluids from her lungs through the tracheotomy, monitor the machine settings and "bag" her with a hand held air pump in case the machine were to fail. Heavy stuff to be sure but I didn't even think about it that way really. I just wanted my mom home. My mom was one tough cookie. She survived until 1995 with the beeps and wooshing sounds of that machine her constant companion.

It was somewhere around this same time that I tested positive for HIV. By this time HIV was known about but still somewhat of an enigma - no one knew how it was transmitted and for the most part it was a death sentence. When I tested positive I was told my immune system was in pretty bad shape and the doctor's believed that I had contracted it several years prior to testing positive. I wasn't really all that surprised. I had been sexually active since my early teens and had done a little bit of stripping and hustling so the chances were pretty good the test was going to come back positive.

Well... I continued on this posting here and wrote a very long concise timetable of the events of the 80's but guess what?

I hit publish post and my post disappeared entirely. No auto save, no backup, no nothing. Again I say Blogger sucks ass sometimes. Too bad - I had some good quotes and original phrases in there that there is no way I will ever remember now.

Thanks Blogger you are a real pal.

Anyone know of a more reliable blog site that won't censor the fuck out of me?

The Trip (through the 70's)

Seeing as how the title of this here BLOG is "The Long Strange Trip" and my idea for this thing was to write down some sort of recollection of my life I figure maybe I should get to it. This is more certainly not a memoir or autobiography or anything so high and mighty as that - just my recollections of my life so far and maybe a form of cheap self-therapy. Then again maybe that's what a memoir or autobiography is really... so call this what you will. I call it a long, strange trip... and (hopefully anyway) I am a long way from the end.

So some of my first memories are of me with a little plastic pretend kiddy doctor's kit administering fake candy pills to my ill grandmother laying on the living room couch. It seemed as if she was always ill, at least in my memory. We lived with my mother's parents in their quiet home in Northwest Washington DC when I was a small child and as I said it seemed as if grandmother was always sick and I was always giving her fake candy remedies to cure her ills - I would use the term "I was playing doctor with my grandmother" but that conjures up some very sick imagery that some stupid ass would misconstrue so let's just not go there ok? Admittedly by saying that I have already taken you to that ugly place but now I can just use that term without any of the silly innuendo and stupid associated crap... ok? I PLAYED DOCTOR WITH MY GRANDMOTHER - there I said it. But not in a weird way ok? Anyway... I don't know if she actually ate the little candy pills I offered up but in retrospect this memory sets the tone for the direction of this long, strange trip that I call my life. I don't even know how sick my grandmother really was - I had been told when I was much older that grandmother (who had by now long since passed away) was a bit of a hypochondriac.

All of this had to have been around the time when I was 5 or maybe 6... sometime in the late 60's. I also remember how much I loved my grandfather - I can still remember scampering into his lap as he sat in his easy chair in the living room and he would give me one of the cherry throat lozenges he always seemed to have on hand. My grandfather, I am told, had a glorious tenor voice and sang in the choir at the church he attended in Georgetown. I guess that's why he always had those lozenges. In any case they were a treasured treat to me. I was told that I was my grandfather's favorite of the grandchildren by my mom - I don't know if that is so or not but I always felt like the apple of his eye. I don't recall him getting ill but he was hospitalized in late November or early December of 1970 with a blood clot I think. In any case I remember being pulled out of class on December 10 and being told that my grandfather had died and I would be staying with a family friend that night. Apparently my grandfather refused to use the bedpan and had gotten out of bed to go to the bathroom - the clot shook loose and went straight to his heart or brain or lung or wherever it is these things go to kill you. I do know that my mother was in the hospital cafeteria at the time it happened and heard the call of "Code Blue" over the loudspeaker - she rushed to the room only to arrive in time to see my Grandfather laying on the floor as the doctors tried unsuccessfully to revive him. I can't recall who told me he had died - maybe it was a school official or maybe my parent's came to pick me up and told me themselves. I just remember feeling very empty and lonely and helpless and worst of all, removed from my mother who I adored and who I knew adored her father and she was in pain that I couldn't do anything about. No amount of candy pills could ever fix this. I don't recall ever playing with my little fake doctor's kit again. Around this same time (maybe before maybe after I can't really recall) my mother's beloved dog Tinkerbell also died but that was just one more encounter with our new uninvited friend Death.

After my grandfather's death, my grandmother's health quickly declined and the family elected to have her placed in a nursing home... as is often the case with people who have been married to one another all their lives, she died within a year and a half of her husband. But still Mr. Death wasn't done with us. Two weeks after my grandmother's death came the high profile murder case of my mother's brother - my Uncle Corky Nalls. He was 17 years old when he was shot in the head by James Walburn, the father of the pregnant girlfriend Corky wanted to marry. The killer was captured a few days later at his rural cabin running around nude acting like a crazy man. Maybe he was crazy, I don't know. I only know that his actions drove the final stake into the heart of what remained of my family. The ensuing murder trial was big news for the next year or so in the local media and I have strange little memories of the trial itself. I had a very bad poison ivy infection that covered almost every inch of my body at one point (I don't know - maybe I was rolling around in it or something). It was so bad that I obviously couldn't go to school so my parents had to bring me along to the trial. I have vague memories of sitting in the court room as the trial unfolded... mostly it is a blank but I do have distinct memories of a chalk board on which the defense lawyer drew an overhead view of the crime scene (the front porch of the killer's home) and arguing that the killing was accidental. Yes he said the accused did have a rifle and was threatening my Uncle and telling him to stay away from his daughter and get off his property when he tripped over the leg of a rocking chair that was on the porch which caused the rifle to discharge. The shot hit him in the face. My poor Uncle staggered a few houses away where he collapsed and died in a pool of his own blood. Eyewitnesses had a different story as to how the murder happened. I don't remember their testimony - I may not have even been present for that but I do remember waiting in a room for the jury's decision with the family of the killer and our family crammed together in horrible, deafening silence. There we all were, his family and our family, all destroyed by a moment of rage. I can remember playing with one of the boys from the killer's family during the trial in the hallway - or maybe it was in the waiting room as we all sat with our lives in tatters all around us. We were too young to understand. Broken families, broken people, broken lives. But to two little kids the importance and gravity of this moment was lost - at least for the time. But the ripple effects of the event were far reaching and treacherous. For my family that was the final blow... the family home was sold (I presume to pay bills for my grandmother's care and funeral and my uncle's funeral and so forth). The family drifted apart and (I suppose) did their best to find ways to heal the wounds of the past couple of years or at least forget them. One of my Uncle's spent the majority of the remainder of his life in and out of mental institutions and addicted to drugs. The other spent his life doing his best to live a "normal" life with his family. My Aunt's moved away and my mom... well she just survived as best as she could. Her marriage fell apart and her health steadily declined until her death in 1995. She never really got over the events of those 18 months in early 1970/1971. I don't know much of what became of the killer and his family. He was convicted of murder but was released from prison after a few years because he allegedly had cancer or a heart condition or some such nonsense and only had a few months to live. I don't know what kind of strings he pulled to get out of jail but I know he lived for many years later, albeit without much dignity. My father once swore that he saw the killer picking through a garbage can in an alley in downtown Dc - homeless and broken. I don't know if that's true but it would be a fitting end to a miserable man's life. He had apparently done horrible things throughout his life and was suspected in the deaths of at least two of his family members - so who knows, maybe he was crazy. As to the rest of his family I don't know what became of them although I would guess they were as ruined by this tragedy as my family was. I don't recall ever seeing that little boy again. I feel as bad for them as I do for my own family - none of us asked for this to happen but all of our lives were changed by this one man's actions. A tough lesson for 2 little boys to have to learn. I wonder if he took from that experience the same lessons that I did...

The next few years of my life were more or less uneventful and average, relatively speaking. I did the typical kid things like playing baseball and soccer and theater stuff. For a few years I got to have a somewhat normal childhood. Well... if you take into account the fact that my father was an alcoholic and my parent's marriage was falling apart. They tried hard to fix the marriage and pull our little family unit together by doing things like weekend camping trips that more often than not turned out disastrous due to my father's drinking. Those trips didn't last though. The "gas crisis" made trips like those virtually unaffordable and even had that not been the case the truth was the camping trips did nothing to bring us closer together as a family. If anything it created more stress and friction. I can recall one Friday just before going camping my teacher telling the class that one of our classmates (and one of my best friends) had died overnight of kidney failure. We knew he had been sick for a while but still I was destroyed by the news. Fernando was a "little person" - a midget... maybe a dwarf. I don't really know - it wasn't important to me at that age - I just knew he was my friend and now he too was gone. And then I had to go camping with my broken family. It all seemed so futile to me at 10 or 11 years old. And that's pretty much how all of my memories of those camping trips are, which is really sad because I am sure that in reality there had to have been some wonderful adventures and fun that we had that was overshadowed by all the pain of the times we were going through. I wish I could go back and relive those times so that I can at least remember a few of the good times. But that isn't how life works... I just have to believe that those moments DID happen and they are burned into my brain somewhere on a subconscious level.

By this time I had dealt with the rapid loss of my grandparents, the murder of my uncle and the resulting trial, the loss of one of my best friends, the sudden death of my mother's sister's husband due to a massive heart attack on a golf course, and just for fun, being sexually molested by my father's father. I wasn't the only one - he got to pretty much all of the kids in the family before I ratted him out to my parents after he gave me a dollar to pull my pants down and let him touch my penis. I don't recall exactly what happened but I remember afterwards knowing that what he did was wrong and I should tell my mommy which I did. He was never allowed to be alone with the grandchildren again. Let me just say here that I don't think he was a bad man - I believe he had a mental illness and I always looked at it that way throughout my life. So you might expect that my life was overdue for some semblance of normalcy by this point. Ahh... once again that's not how life works. Life had other plans for me and far bigger challenges to overcome.

My parent's relationship continued to deteriorate and my brother continued to act out always getting into trouble (and trying to get every girl in sight pregnant to boot). By the time I was in my early teens my brother and father had both moved out of the house and my mother had been diagnosed with severe emphysema. Her lungs were like Swiss cheese from smoking since she was a teenager. She tried to quit but the strain of her marital problems led her back to her trusty crutch - the cigarette. She was on oxygen at home and her mobility became more and more limited due to her inability to breathe. Other than going to Bingo and the grocery store she was more or less home bound and I was left to care for her. I can remember the ordeal of coming home from school every day and getting off of the bus a block from my house. It was always such a long walk in my head because I was always thinking in the back of my mind that one day I would come home and find her dead or dying on the floor. This was, unfortunately a very real possibility and the reality I had to deal with on a daily basis. I can actually recall one night my mother turning blue before my eyes as I frantically called my dad to come take her to the hospital. She was hospitalized and one morning I received a call that my mother had gone into respiratory arrest and had stopped breathing several times overnight and that they had to resuscitate her and had put her on a ventilator and she was in critical condition. I was not prepared for what I saw when I arrived at her room. There on the hospital bed was my mother, horribly bloated, eyes open but more or less rolled back in her head with no focus and she was a strange grayish color. There was a large machine next to her bed bellowing out loud whooshing sounds with a tube leading from the machine to her mouth and down her throat. The tube was taped in place over her mouth and her hands were bound to the bed because she had tried repeatedly to remove the tube from her throat. I remember speaking softly to her telling her how she had given us all a scare and that I loved her but she was non-responsive. I left the room and collapsed in the ICU lobby. When I finally composed myself enough to speak to the doctor things only got worse. After my mother was diagnosed with emphysema she did try to quit but as I said cigarettes were her one crutch in life (she wasn't a drinker or drug taker) and the burden of the marital problems coupled with her health problems drove her right back to smoking. It was her only outlet. But since she was essentially housebound and didn't want my father to know she had started smoking again she had no way of getting cigarettes except to send her sons to the local pharmacy to get her fix for her. Eventually I think my brother refused to do it but I was never able to refuse my mother so I began making the pickups of the drug that was killing her. Somehow (I don't really remember how this came about) the doctor had caught wind of the fact that I had been supplying my mother with cigarettes. The end result being the doctor telling me that if my mother died it was my fault because I bought her the cigarettes. I was devastated to say the least and to this day those words still haunt me. And that... more or less... was the 70's for me. But the Long Strange Trip was just getting started...

Perception

Sometime the very things that we perceive to be holding us down or back in life are actually the only thing holding us UP in life. Sometimes the burdens of our lives are the very things that give us strength and reason to live.

Life is all a matter of perspective. If you don't like the way things look try changing your point of view - altering your perspective. Sometimes what we see and how we see it all depends on the window we are looking through.

Think about it.

Outside In Inside Out

In an earlier post I spoke about the beginning of the "hippie movement" and the anniversary of the Human Be-In and so forth. So exactly what did happen to the hippies? Where are all you good people? You didn't all die off like dinosaurs wiped out by an Ice Age. You couldn't possibly have all OD'd... I mean I know there were a lot of goooooood drugs around in your day but some of you had to have survived right? Many of you joined the "establishment" with the concept that the only way to effect real change was from the inside out. So what happened? You succeeded in the first part of the mission. You got inside. You established yourselves in positions of control and power. So again I ask what happened? My theory is you just got lost. Those cubicles in those corporate offices can all get to looking the same - it's completely understandable. It's like a maze... they build them that way on purpose actually. Kind of like casinos... once you are inside it's almost impossible to find you way out until you are bankrupt - financially or in this case morally. But you've still got a job to do and not much time left to do it with. Try to remember who you were - who you still are inside. Try to find your way home. It's time to make the dreams of yesterday the reality of today or at the very least the hope for a better brighter tomorrow.

Maybe you just got comfortable... that too is understandable. All those shiney material things that make life so much simpler for us all... even the daily routine we have fallen into... the mundane never changing existence... there is something undeniably comforting in these things, despite the underlying sinister and soul destroying emptiness and pointlessness that lays just below the comfort zzzzzzzzzone. It's not just a comfort zone you see... it's become a comfort zzzzzzzzzzone. We've all fallen asleep at the wheel because we have become too damned comfortable.

Either way the dream is dying and if we don't wake up this existence will become the accepted reality for the next generations that follow. Instead of expecting and fighting for what is best for all mankind they will settle for what is best for themselves.

Now is the time to let our freak flags fly again. All we have to do is remember where we put them.

Fighting The Dragon

This is a copy of a post I made today on the Hep C board on the website for The Grateful Dead's bass player Phil Lesh located at http://www.phillesh.com.

Well here I go on a journey I wasn't expecting and really really don't want to go on. But I'm already on the path and as I've always said "if you can't go over something or under it or around it then the only way is to go through it" so off I go. Seems I tested positive for Hep C about 2 years ago. Don't know for sure how I got it and it doesn't matter anyway the end result is still the same. Got no one but myself to blame and all that crap. So we've been tracking my numbers since I tested positive, hoping I might be one of those rare lucky ones who just beats it without treatment. No such luck... after a few minor drops the VL started climbing like my liver was Mt. freaking Everest and it HAD to make it to the top before winter set in. Annoying little bastards. If I could I would get a shrink ray gun and shrink myself down to their size and go in and kick their butts myself but I digress... We had good reason to hope I was going to be one of the lucky ones because I am a long term survivor of HIV (I got it back before it even had a name) and have a history of surviving and thriving through things that normal people don't. Great - so I'm not normal. How very wonderful lol. Again I digress. I do that a lot. Anyway... bottom line is the time has come and it's time to start THE TREATMENT. Ugh! Peg Infuron once a week and a bunch of pills every day (like I don't take enough freaking pills every day as it is because of the HIV). Swell. High probability I'll feel like crap for a couple of days after the shot EVERY FREAKING WEEK FOR 48 WEEKS. Oh joy! High probability my HIV numbers (which have been undetectable for years and years now) will go FREAKING NUTS! Wow... this is sounding more and more enticing all the time ain't it? Pretty good chance that the treatment will mess up my thyroid and other important organs I might be wanting to continue to use in the future. Yeeeehaaa! Decent chance that my hair may fall out too thanks to the treatment. AHA! I got that one beat... I ALREADY SHAVED MY HEAD!! SO THERE! NYAHHH...

The truth is that the chance of success with this treatment is not all that great even for healthy people... for a LTS of HIV (that's Long Term Survivor of AIDS for those of you who don't know - aka known as "F*CK AREN'T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD DUDE?") the chances of success are statistically very low. But like I said I've beaten a lot of odds this is just one more uphill battle I have to fight. The one thing I learned early on when I found out I had HIV was that your mental approach to things makes all the difference. I BELIEVED I would beat it and I did. All of my friends at the time who tested positive believed they would die. They all did. Every last one of them. I believe that I will beat HEP C just as I have beaten HIV (as well as it can be beaten anyway). To quote my boys "I WILL GET BY I WILL SURVIVE"

Despite that belief though I admit here to a group of people that I don't even know (even though in truth that's not entirely true - we have probably danced together and smiled to one another at show after show and in some ways our souls have touched) something that I can not admit to those closest to me - I am scared as hell. I think that however is a normal and healthy response and it won't keep me from the battle ahead. Worst case scenario is the side effects are so bad that I can't take it and I quit the treatment and put up with the side effects of the HEP C until some of the new treaments become available. Best case scenario is a year from now the treatment has worked the HEP C is gone my HIV is still undetectable and I'm back to the good life again.

But wait! NO LIE HERE - as I am sitting here writing this I get a call from my GI guy (he's one of the best and I'm lucky to have him treating me)... he's gotten the results from some tests I did last week (I've got a mental block against what they were named but it involved the consumption of a large quantity of that lovely beverage BARIUM and if I ever catch up with the douche who came up with that stuff he's gonna pay dearly...) and the results weren't so great. Aside from confirming that I am "full of shit" (something my friends have often asserted about me) the test results also indicated that I may have gall bladder trouble and it ("it" being the gall bladder") may have to come out before we can begin the HEP treatments. I don't know why but my response has been an hour of laughing non stop and marvelling at the absurdity of this all. I mean I have never been a drinker (which isn't too say I haven't had a drink once in a while or been drunk a couple of times but those times have been VERY rare in my life). I've never been an IV drug user. So what kind of sick joke is this that's being played on me here eh? I get it... it's funny but jeeeeez.... enough is enough already. I'm fairly sure the uncontrollable laughter I am experiencing is at the very least a sign of hysteria if not an indicator of the beginning of a full blown mental breakdown but I'm seeing enough doctors right now and there's no more room on my schedule for any more doctor appointments or any more space in my belly for any more pills. They'll just have to deal with the psychotic laughter...

Oh well... let the battle begin. I'm up for it. I just hope this stupid little virus knows what it's up against.

To all of you who are on or have already been down this path you are my inspirations and my heroes... to those of you who are at the start of this battle let's have at it... time's a wasting and time is something that should never be wasted. We can be each other's strength and the one's who have gone before us can mark our goaline and cheer us on to victory. We can all slay the dragon before us if we just believe and never give up.

Peace and thanks to you all for being my friends and family without ever even realizing it.

Oh and special thanks to Phil for creating a place like this for freaks like us... get well bud I need to see you and your friends playing again SOON!! In the early 90's before Jerry passed there were times when literally the only thing that kept me alive was knowing the Grateful Dead were coming to RFK and I HAD to be well enough to see you guys play at least one more time... your music revitalized me (and so many others )then just as it does now... so thanks for keeping me alive!

Be-In Again

Turn on

Tune in

Drop out

Today marks the 40th anniversary of the "Gathering of the Tribes for a Human Be-In" in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park... the event that ushered in the "Summer of Love" and the counter-culture movement of the late 1960's. Flower Power! Peace and Love! Woodstock (the cool one not the 2 ripoff sequels)! Civil Rights! TWIGGY!

So what the hell happened?

The assasinations of JFK, MLK, RFK, Malcom X, the war in Vietnam, the deaths of Jimi, Janis, and Jim Morrison, the breakup of The Beatles, Kent State, Charlie Manson, NIXON. You name it... everything went KABLOOOOIE in a big way. And with all that pressure on the roof, the house was bound to cave in so to speak. Everybody abandoned the GREATER DREAM for the GREAT AMERICAN DREAM. Instead of turning on, tuning in and dropping out they opted to turn OFF, tune OUT, and drop IN to the great illusion/delusion. They sold out so they could buy all the material things that screamed I'M A SUCCESS and I'M BETTER THAN YOU. They kept up with the Jones' at the expense of their beliefs and the good of the world and society around them. They sold out to convenience and excess. They sacrificed the dreams and hopes they had for a better society in return for a better life for themselves. Instead of playing the game they became the game. They became citizen comrades. They bought the government cheese and begged for more.

But there's still hope. Trapped inside of each and everyone of these corporate drones still lives an old hippie waiting to be reborn.

So QUESTION AUTHORITY! Not just today but everyday. Don't believe everything you are told. Don't believe everything you see. In fact don't believe ANYTHING you are told or see. Research for yourselves. THINK FOR YOURSELVES! Do it now while it's still legal.

OH YESSS NANCY!

Ok so I'm getting ready to go to sleep tonite and I make the horrible mistake of flipping on CNN to check in on my sex kitten Nancy Grace. I knew I shouldn't have. Nancy for me is like great porn is for a sex addict or maybe a cute altar boy is for a priest (I know I know... that was wrong wasn't it?). But nevertheless I did it. I've got a serious Nancy habit and it MUST BE FED! Chances are I won't be able to sleep tonight... I'm going to be having one major prolonged mental orgasm over this one...

Here's the story:

A woman in Orlando and her husband who have a young baby are breaking up. Husband and his brother are at the house getting some of the husband things. Wife is distraught(not to mention drunk). At some point the husband's brother asks the wife "where is the baby?". The wife doesn't respond. The husband and his brother quickly locate the GREASED BABY in a 400 degree oven in the kitchen. Baby is saved, wife is arrested, husband gets his stuff (I guess). But Nancy is on a RAMPAGE and that's when she really gets me HOT! Now Nancy has on her show an EXPERT in psychology who is trying to explain to the oh-so-indignant Nancy that this poor woman has a mental disorder. Nancy's response is to scream something about not understanding how this could be considered a "psychotic" reaction. The EXPERT tries to make Nancy understand that greasing up and trying to bake your baby is probably a pretty strong indicator of a psychotic episode but of course our Great Lady Nancy The Superior won't have any of it and eventually dismisses the expert altogether in favor of other unknown Yentas that share the same opinions that she does. I think Stepford is missing some of it's women... But it gets better. Then Nancy gets herself in a tizzy about the fact that this woman will be getting out of jail on a $1500 bond and that maybe she will try to cook and eat her baby again! "BUT", says Nancy, "before she gets out she will be getting a nice meal in jail of Turkey and Gravy and sweet potatoes and vegetables and even some sort of dessert!" My guess is Nancy was thinking to herself "How DARE they feed this horrible insane woman? She has a child all greased up and ready to eat when she gets home doesnt she?" Hmmmm... I wonder what the crazy lady used for seasoning the baby? (I know I know... that was wrong...)

Oh I soooooooo want to be that bitch Nancy Grace!

I need a tissue now...

My Secret Indulgence

I have a deep dark secret that I can no longer keep inside... it's eating me alive and I can't take it anymore!

So here it goes... deeeeep breath...

I AM IN LOVE WITH NANCY GRACE!

I know it's wrong. I know I need help. Here I am a flaming liberal and yet I can't help but finding myself soooooooooo turned on by Nancy.

I can't help myself... she's just so deliciously self righteous and superior and opinionated and just perfectly evil. It's mesmerizing.

Late at night when everyone is asleep I like to spend some quiet time watching Nancy while I rub one out as she works herself into one of her supremely erotic frenzies while she attacks people who are mentally unbalanced, falsely accused, and generally just not as fortunate to have the upbringing and opportunities she has had in life.

Ohhhhhhhh Naaaaancy....PLEASE... just be a little more superior...I'M ALMOST THERE!!!

oh yeaaa that was good - now let me get a tissue and a bottle of whiskey to drown my shame in...

Nice Apocalypse We're Having eh?

Recently I have been hearing a lot of people making comments like "Nice weather we're having" or "it's a beautiful day today" and so on...

It kind of creeps me out. You see I don't live in Florida or Hawaii or Southern California or any of those nice southern places where weather like this might be considered at least somewhat normal. I live in Washington DC. It's not April here. It's January 5th at 1 AM and the weather is in the MID 60's!

Mission control... I think we may have a problem. Something is amiss... Something has gone horrible awry here folks.

This isn't "nice weather" it isn't a "beautiful day" - the truth is it's F**KING FREAKY and if any of the people who say these things had any sense whatsoever they'd be hiding under their beds and praying to whatever GOD they believe in while they wait for it to start raining frogs outside. But nooooooo... instead they revel blindly in the newest signs of the impending environmental disaster that is about to reshape our planet. But hey at least we'll all have great tans for the apocalypse eh?

go here and learn something while you still can http://www.climatecrisis.net

New Year

Ok... so it's a NEW YEAR. I guess I should have some resolutions. Actually I have a few in mind but I am kind of on the fence as to how realistic they are and how serious I am about keeping them. It's not like I have a lot of bad habits anyway... I'm not overweight so losing a few pounds isn't on my list. I don't drink so ditto there. I'm not a smoker so nothing there. Really my biggest fault is I am lazy as hell and have been all my life. I don't really think that's going to change so that's not on the list. And besides, that's also a good excuse for putting off my resolutions for a while... actually I like to wait until somewhere near the end of the year to really commit to that year's Resolutions. That way I'm more likely to pick ones that I am less likely to break... after all if I've made it 3/4 of the way through the year without doing something I shouldn't or I have done something to better myself then I am probably not going to mess it up in the last couple of months of the year. It's a good policy and I am sticking with it.

Of course this has all been a joke... I don't DO New Year's Resolutions. Why should I? After all I am already perfect and why would I want to mess with that?

Maybe I should seek out a good shrink this year... lol