Tiger Woods vs. The Taliban

Hello friends,

I think it is great that there have been two crazies try to blow up planes here in the U.S., suicide bombers blasting Americans to kingdom come in Afghanistan, unemployment through the freaking' roof, not to mention all the starving people on our city streets, and all I here from the media is about that stupid Tiger Woods. Wow, it's hard to believe that a good lookin' gazillionaire is giving' a bunch of chicks a 'damn good seenin' too'. How we all love to watch peoples lives crumble right before our eyes. Now, that's news! Give me more.

Here is some news. My good friend Jason 'C-Note' Baker is playin' with Joan Jett now days. Check him out here strummin' and doin' a little back up singin'.


Adios,
~e~

Boom-KABOOM!!!

-------------Stay away from this guy. He will only get you in trouble!

Hello friends,

Well, I hope y'all had a wonderful Christmas. Mine was pretty all right. I got to see a couple of people that I haven't seen in a while, which was pretty cool and I didn't end up in the hoosegow like one of my stupid friends did. I guess I'm pretty lucky that I didn't wind up behind bars tho. You see, Scott Jobe and I went to Tahlequah the day before Christmas eve. We hung out with some old friends at Ned's Bar that we went to college with. We had a few drinky winkies (Bushmill's on the rocks for yours truly) Well, I guess it was 2 or 3 in the morning and I am driving Scott's SUV back to Tulsa while Scott is tossin' some explosives he had gotten' his hands on, out the passenger side window. I mean to tell you, when those babies went off it shook the truck, and hell, we were a quarter of a mile down the road by then. They didn't just go boom, they gave it that double boom...like....boom-KABOOM!!! We were laughing so hard we were crying (especially when Scott burnt his thumb...well, I was laughing anyway) Man, are we lucky we didn't blow ourselves to smithereens. That would have been a nice Christmas gift for my mom, me delivered to her house in a Hefty bag with a big red bow on it. Scott Jobe is a very, very, bad influence.

Speaking of Smithereens...


and speakin' of boom boom...


Adios,
~e~

Thanksgiving

Hello friends,

I always write my top 10 things I'm thankful for on Thanksgiving. I write a bunch of crap that I think is clever and witty, but more often than not it's simply just that...crap. Then I splash on all of that family, friends, and health, garbage. Let's be truthful, your thankful for these things because you think your suppose to be. Are you really thankful for your family? Deep down inside yourself, where no one can see, deep in the darkness of your soul, where you don't even like to go, don't you sometimes think about how nice it would be if you hadn't gotten married and didn't have any kids? Your a liar if you say you don't.

I like all that be thankful for what you got, guff. 'There are starving kids in China' How hard is it to find someone less fortunate than yourself? If you gotta go all the way to China before finding one....well...it's probably time to fire up the Mercury, climb in, and take a nap.

Or the 'I'm thankful I'm not as bad off as someone else' junk. I should be thankful I don't have cancer like so-in-so. He's thankful he's not dead like his friend he met at the Cancer Treatment Center of America. That guys thankful he doesn't have to deal assholes like us anymore. Your in bad shape if the only thing you have to be thankful for is that you don't have some terrible disease.

Here is my list this year. Enjoy.

1) I am thankful that I don't live in China.

2) I am thankful that I don't have bubonic plague.

3) I am thankful that there are people with disease and starving so I have something to be thankful for.

4 ) I am thankful that my dick is small, that way my pants fit right.

5) I am thankful that I am to dumb to understand what's going on.

6) I am thankful that I am to ugly to get a good lookin' girlfriend, cause it doesn't hurt quite as bad when a homely chick breaks up with you.

7) I am thankful that I don't have yellow puss running out of every orifice on my body in to a vat and then force feed back to me. (I'm very thankful for that one)

8) I am thankful that I get angry instead of sad.

9) I am thankful that all of this will come to an end someday.

10) I am thankful that no one reads this shit.




Adios,

~e~

27 Year Old Girlfriend

_________________________*Break Up Update*
I don't believe she is mad at me any more, I think she just hates my guts and livers.

Hello friends,

For the past...I don't know....for sometime now, I would run into someone and they would ask if I was on 'Face Book'. I would tell them 'no', cause I wasn't. Well, last night, I was losing my mind and not being able to sleep, I went and signed up. I still haven't quite figured it out, but I got a message from an old girlfriend of mine. A 27 year old girlfriend. What I mean to say is, she was my girlfriend 27 years ago. That was such a great time in my life. And for her...well, I was her boyfriend so it goes with out saying that she probably considered herself the luckiest girl on the face of the planet. We typed back and forth in that little box thing-a-ma-jig. My typing ain't so swift so our timing got all off and she was answering the question that I wrote two questions before the last answer. I didn't know what the hell she was talking about. I thought she had busted her cerebral cam shaft. Any way, one thing led to another and we are on the phone. We talked about how much fun we had back then, even tho we couldn't remember what we actually did that was so much fun (we did remember one thing we did, and it was so much fun we did it a bunch) Then one day I decided that we should 'see other people', and friends, let me tell you, that's when all the fun came to a screechin' halt. Now then, after about 3 days of 'seeing other people' I realized that I didn't want to see other people, I wanted to have some more fun. But she had a very 'no can do' attitude about having fun with me any more. I was devastated. This was my first, truly broken heart. Then she kicked it around in the dirt a while, covered it in acid, and fed it to a monkey. Good Lord, I was miserable. Anyway (back to nowa days) she told me that she was happily married to a wonderful guy, that she had a great son, and lived in a big house in sunny southern California. I told her that I had just had the locks changed on me, no visitation rights with my pussy cats, and that I lived in a shack on the West side of the river. No, not really. I'm kidding. I didn't tell her that. I wouldn't lay my troubles on someone I haven't seen in 27 years. Besides, she would think I was some big loser. I must admit I stretched the true just a tad. Just enough to smooth out the wrinkles a bit. All I told her was that I was head of EddyTech International, a mover and shaker in the globicular nuclear atmospheric engineering and technical research field, that I was shacked up with 3 super models, and that I lived in a mansion next door to Hugh Hefner's brother, Cliff. I told her my hobbies were hand to hand tiger hunting and rescuing blind orphans. I told her that I had trained my mind to make me feel no pain and to be able to levitate old used beer bottles. That I had swam with the piranhas of the Amazon and snow boarded across flowing lave in the south pacific. I told her I had all my hair and that I don't even know how to spell Viyagra. She asked for the names and numbers of my last 3 girlfriends. But unfortunately my phone suddenly went dead...damn it!




Adios,
~e~

'Our' Song

Hello friends,

Well, the break up is still brakin'. But, while I was on guard duty here at Fort Mullet, keepin' all the normal people on their side of the river, I was thinkin' about all the smart girls that were dumb enough to get involved with me and what 'our' songs were. I drew a big fat blank. But I did come up with some songs (good or bad) that had something to do, somehow, with our relationship (good or bad) Be that as it may, whenever I hear these tunes it makes me think of that girl. Not 'That Girl' the TV show but 'the' girl I was messin' around with. Got it?

I will only use their first names soz not to embarrass any of'um. You know, cause they were my 'girl friend'. Now, this goes all the way back to 3rd grade and the first girl I ever got to smooch (who broke up with me cause I accidentally pulled her pants off ((I swear it was an accident))) so you can't really hold hangin' out with me against some of'um.

Lani ~ I'm A Believer - The Monkees

Leslie ~ Wild Fire - Michael Martin Murphy

Melodie ~ Silly Love Songs - Paul McCartney and Wings

Lee Ann ~ I Love A Rainy Night - Eddie Rabbit

Shelly ~ Here Comes My Girl ~ Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

Shelly II ~ Peace, Love, and Understanding - Elvis Costello

Jana ~ To Drunk To F**k - Dead Kennedys

Lynda ~ Walk This Way - RUN DMC w/ Areosmith

Michelle ~ Don't Worry Be Happy - Bobby McFerrin

Caroline ~ True Fine Love - Steve Miller Band

Pam ~ After Midnight - Eric Clapton

Carmen ~ Walking After Midnight - Patsey Cline

Sonya ~ Pulling Mussels - Squeeze

For some reason these songs connected themselves to these girls somewhere in my mind. Some of the songs make me smile and some don't. But all of the girls make me smile, cause I tend to always think about the good parts instead of the bad ones. The fun things we did and not the fights. I think it's better that way...but what do I know.

And Tracy...well....Tracy gets two ~
I us'ta sit around the house and play this song on my guitar. Tracy loved 'The Cars'.


I sang this to her one night while dancing in the living room with no music. I really liked slow dancing with her with no music playing. I'm just weird like that. I'm just a fucking idiot.


Adios,
~e~

Birthday

-------------------------------Pogo the Clown

Hello friends,

Hey, It's my birthday! Man, am I glad I was born. My birthday wish is that all of you can be as happy as I am. I really, truly, honestly, do. Well, I guess I better go to work. I know it's Sunday and my birthday, but I just love working for people who I gotta fight to get them to pay me. I understand he doesn't have any money. Times are tough all over. I just can't figure out how his daughter goes to Casia Hall (Casia is the ultra rich, fancy pants, private school here in town) and he can afford a private trainer. I guess they take the ol' 'I don't have any money' line also.

Here is a doozy of a birthday song.


Adios,

~e~

Friday the 13th

------------Little Ethel Mermen and Jerry Lee ~ hangin' out in a box

Hello friends,

Well, I have really crawled into my cave today. Man, I don't want to go any where near outside. God only knows what will happen to me. I feel like Wylie Coyote. I wouldn't be surprised if an anvil hanging from some rock formation with a candle slowly burning the rope holding it, fell and cracked my noodle. I don't even have an umbrella to open before it drives me into the ground like a big, fat, nail. Friday the 13th is right. I wrenched my knee yesterday and I can hardly walk. I haven't slept in what seems like a year. One of my customers won't pay me because his renter fell through. (?) I don't know, but It seems to me that his renter bailing out is his problem, not mine. Somebody keeps tossing me curve balls and is making it very difficult to bat. I feel all empty inside with this kinda tickling' feeling in my stomach. I feel like there is a big spring compressed in my chest and any minute it is going to uncoil and Christ only knows what the hell is gonna happen then. I guess it will rip me to shreds. Boinggggggggg!!!

I sure miss Little Ethel Merman following me around and meow, meow, meowing. And Piggy (my first catch) playing dead and telling me when it's time for dinner. And StanleyMan (my most rewarding catch) sitting next to my chair waiting for some pets. And daddy's girl, Smudge, who has finally come around......and Tracy. And nobody knows when I'll get to see them again.

It's 3 o'clock in the AM and I can't sleep. It might be the bunk bed I made into a fort. Fort Mullet, the protector of the West Side (Dale Earnhardt shirt required ~ teeth optional) But, there has been a glimmer of light on the far side of the r-can-saw river. Frank's pregnant girl friend Angie has been completely wonderful. I didn't really know her that well before, but she has treated me like she's happy that I'm here (but I know it is an inconvenience) Even tho I tell her I'm not hungry, she always fixes me a plate of food at diner time. She made some home made chocolate chip cookies last night that were soooooo good. She is a good person and I like her (Franks OK, too)

This is for Angie. Now folks, don't take me puttin' this song on here the wrong way. This is the only song I know that has her name in it, except for that Helen Reddy song about that crazy chick, 'Angie Baby'. Plus it's a great song. Dig it.


Adios,
~e~

PS ~ If you have called and I didn't answer or haven't returned it, don't be offended. I'm hiding.

One More Twist

Hello friends,

Well neighbors, Tracy and I have split the beans...sort of. I don't seem to have all of my beans yet, but I'm sure that will work it's way out sooner or later (I didn't have many beans to begin with anyway) I usta think that I had bad taste in women, but I'm beginning to think that it may be me. I don't know. I hate this feeling, it's horrible.

I was watching the news today about that creep that shot up the joint where he usta work. They said he worked there 2 years ago and they acted like it was weird that he could be disgruntled that long. Let me tell you something, I lost my job a year ago. It was the first job I have ever lost in my whole life. I would have never thought that it would have cost me as much as it has. Not only did I lose a job that paid pretty well, that had good insurance, and not to mention that I truly liked, but I lost respect and self esteem. I lost confidence and drive. I lost Tracy and the pussycats. I worried my folks (one more time) I'm sleeping on a
kids bunk bed (the kid doesn't live here anymore) over on the West side where there is some loud banging coming from some goddamn factory or plant or something down by the river. I lost that comfortable feeling of my home and the sound of the sewing machine coming from the back room. I lost my late night adventures. For the exception of my immediate family, a few close friends (which includes y'all) I have lost about everything I love in this world. Not just lost, but destroyed. And you know what the worst part about it all is? Do ya? I did it all myself. No help from anyone. Like a kid smashing a model car with a hammer. Bang, bang, bang. In to a million tiny pieces. I didn't lose guilt tho. So, I guess I can be thankful for that. Yes, it's been a year and I feel worse than I did when it happened. Christ, how bad will I feel in a year from now?

It's just another twist in my downward spiral.

This is a song I wrote a few years ago. There is no video, just a picture of some dumb ol' tree. You know it's funny, I was so sad when I wrote this song and every time that I hear it, it makes me feel like I did then. It doesn't make me miss the gal I wrote it about, or really anything about that time in my life. It just makes me sad inside. I don't know.

Adios,
~e~

PS ~ The bunk bed isn't one of those cool ones that looks like a fire truck or a double-decker bus, but it does have a neat-0 ladder on the end of it. I think tonight, I'm gonna build a fort.............fuck, what's happened to me?

October 31st 2009

Hello friends,

Well, it's here, October 31st! Halloween. Party night! My fav-O-rite night of the year (no kiddin') It's 9:30pm and my party should be crankin' up pretty soon. We don't usually show up till 11:00 or 11:30 or 12:00. I have the greatest costume of all time. My mindless robot side kick is aces, I'm tellin' y'all. I would have someone take a photo of me wearing it to show you just how unbelievable it is, but there is one little hitch...I ain't wearin' it. It's in a pile on the floor. The big, foam block, robot shoes, the jet pack, and the action utility belt that lights up, the whole shootin' match is right there behind me in a ball on the floor. I must have over 200 bucks tied up in that pile of crap, and I can't tell you how many hours. And there it is...just layin' there...behind me...in a ball...on the floor. What a bunch of malarkey. I won't go into why we aren't going, but of course it was all my fault...as usual. Did I say 'What a bunch of malarkey'? I'm sorry, what I meant to say was 'What a bunch of bull shit!' I'm pissed. Hell, I bought her stupid costume too. I don't believe I am a good enough writer to convey to y'all just how I am feeling right now. So I will stop. Happy Halloween and kiss my ass.
Maybe this song can kinda help me out explaining my mood tonight.


Adios and kiss my ass again,
~e~

Spooky Stuff

Hello friends,

BOO! Well, Halloween is upon us and I am amped up. This is my second most fav-O-rite holiday there is. Every year Tracy and I go to that hi-falootin' shin-dig at the Brady. It's invitation only. Only very important people are on the guest list. VIPs only. Fortunately Tracy is one of them cause my name ain't no where near makin' that list. As a matter of fact, when you go in you have to show your invite, then sign in. This (the signing-in part) is what gets you on the list for the hoot-a-nanny next year. I have signed that damn thing for the past 5 years and those bastards have yet to send me one. I have a good mind to not even go this year, that'll teach'um...but friends, I'm weak. All those girls in all those skimpy out fits, my principles go only so far. Anyway, we always have a great time. This year Tracy is going as some kinda space girl. Her costume is pretty hot. She has glitter pumps and a dress sorta like Jane Jetsons but much more skimpier. I am gonna be her mindless side kick robot. I have rigged my costume up with lights and a jet pack (I had to have a place to store the batteries for the lights) and I made some shoes out of big square blocks of foam so I will have big, square, clunky, robot feet. I over do everything. They don't give a prize out for best costume, but after they see me they will probably give me something anyway. I was gonna write my mindless side kick robot name on my mindless side kick robot uniform. 'UNI69' but Tracy put the kibosh on that. She also didn't like '1104U'. She said no to 'Sex Machine' 'Robo Pounder' 'I'm Hard As Steel' and 'How About Some Squeaky Squeaky Klang Zing?' Kill joy. I will put some pictures on here after the party.

Here is some Halloween stuff ~ Enjoy!

One of my dumb ol' sisters had the 'Monster Dance Party' album back in the day. What a great cover. What a great album. Here is a song off of it.
This is 'Riboflavin Flavored, Non Carbonated, Polyunsaturated Blood'


Remember those stop motion Christmas specials? You know those creepy little puppets like things. Well, the cat that made those started makin' 'Mad Monster Party' starring Boris Karloff and Phillis Diller (1967) But he died before it was done. It got put on the shelf. When it was found, many years later, it was in pretty bad shape. Mildew or heat or film eatin' spiders or sometin' screwed it up. Point is, when it was found The Misfits put up the dough to have it restored and finished. It's pretty groovy.


There is a cat that makes movies named J. Niel. Now, he is always buggin' me tryin' to get tips and tricks on how to make a good film. I try to help. He's comin' along...slowly but surely. Here is 'Night of the Living Junkies'. Oh, you can check out his other stuff at http://www.youtube.com/user/Jneil1976#p/u/18/nSYSg7ftk14
Drugs are very scary, kids!


Plan 9 ~ A way with words


Speakin'' of the Misfits, here is an old video I made just for Halloween a few years back. This is the Monster Mash.


Adios,
~e~

Mr. Wolf part 2

Hello friends,

Well the craziness never seems to end around the ol' Eddy hacienda. I noticed I had received two comments on my Armin Wolfe story. Well, I said to myself, Eddy ol' boy it looks like two of the flock have decided to praise your Mark Twain writing skills, splashed with your Will Rogers wit. Two of the hole 19 are gonna inform me the God has given me a talent unparalleled, and how lucky they were to be one of the 19 friends on my page (I go for quality not quantity) But again, and as usual that wasn't the case. What was the case was, the two comments were from Mr. Wolf's two daughters! Man, was I floored. It seems he went by the name of Mike or that was his name or something. I got kinda confused trying to figure it all out, but they called him Mike none the less. It's kinda funny (not in a ha ha funny kinda way) cause I thought about someone close to him reading it, and I didn't think that they would think it was all that appropriate. You know the 'wrinkled noggin and brushing the dentures' stuff. Especially the 'fear in his eyes and falling down' part. I wouldn't have written that stuff if I thought his daughters were gonna read it. But, they seemed pleased with it (shocked anyway) I was expecting to read one of those 'punch in the snoot' e-mails I usually get.

It seems that Mr. Wolf was a pilot in Vietnam and retired a major (thank you for that) He was just passin' through Oklahoma (or leaving it) on his way back to Colorado. He had three daughters and one son, four grandchildren, and two great grandchildren. He played high school football and loved the Denver Broncos (we won't hold that against him)

I don't know how his daughters came across my story, but to think that they found this story in this whole Internet spider web conglomeration mess is nuts. Hell, you guys don't get'um...and I send'um to you. Jeez, I don't know what to think. How crazy is that? He loved the Denver Broncos. Just when I thought it couldn't get any stranger.

His youngest daughter wrote this ~

"On a final note, my dad would have been proud to read this post that was written in his honor, so again, thank you. The tears I cried at the end of reading it were very much the happy kind"

I guess I don't screw everything up I do. I wish they would have left an e-mail address, there are things I would like to tell them that I didn't put in my story. I'm gonna go now, I'm a little freaked out.

Here is some music.


Adios,
~e~

Mr. Armin H. Wolf ~ Action Man

Hello friends,

The other day my friend Stu was playing poker at a local casino. He was having a great day. He had been there about three hours and was about $550.00 to the positive. But what was even better was he had thrown the wood on three different hands to this cat who looks like Kenny Logins and fancies himself the poker king of Tulsa. Little did he know my that Stu thinks he is the poker king of the world, and Kenny didn't like being throttled in front of all those idiots who feed his stupid ego. My friend made this guy so mad he was about to explode. Kenny stormed away from the table only to get whacked again when he returned 30 minutes later. Anyway, Stu is setting there shuffling his chips and staring at the board when someone says "Is he alright?" Stu looks up to see the old man that was playing two seats to his left, leaning on an empty poker table with his back to everyone. Stu stood up and said "You OK mister?" The old man looked around at Stu. His nose was bleeding. Stu said the man had a look of fear in his eyes like he had never seen before, then the old man fell straight back. Stu tried to catch him and they both went to the floor. Now there is blood coming out of his mouth. Stu says "Hang on buddy" and comes to the realization that he has no idea what to do. But Stu being resourceful, he comes up with a "plan" (and a good one I might add) He looks up at the crowd that has surrounded them and says "I don't know what the f**k to do" (that must have been comforting to the old man) Stu watches as the old man stares up at him with dull, gray, scared eyes. Stu is wishing someone else would have stood up instead of him. Then at the precise moment, Stu puts part 'B' of his "plan" in to action. "Don't you die on me, Mister!" he yells at him. Then the old man died. This all took place in under a minute. It looks like Stu's "plan" didn't quite pan out form him. Did I say it was a good "plan"? I meant it was a stupid "plan". Good job Stu. Stu didn't feel like playing cards any more so he cashed in his chips and went home. Chumping Kenny Logins didn't seem like such a big deal now.

I guess the old man had an aneurysm.

About 3 or 4 days later I asked Stu what the old mans name was. Stu didn't know. So I got on-line and looked up the obituary's. After some fancy detective moves, between the paragraphs of achievements and successes of all the other people who died that week, I found this ~

'Wolf, Armin Henry, 74, died Tuesday. No services planned. Cremation Society'

That's it? Man, is that the ending to his 74 years on this planet? He lives almost three quarters of a century, doing God knows what all, and that's what he gets, 'Died Tuesday. No services planned'? It seems kinda anti-climatic, don't you think? I'm not saying that it's wrong or bad or someone dropped the ball here, I'm just saying what a let down. I don't know what I was expecting. Fireworks and a brass band I suppose.

But truly friends, what a way to go. He got up that morning, combed what few hairs he had on top of his wrinkled old noggin', brushed his dentures and said to himself "I'm gonna go to the casino and throw the wood to the chumps." No fight with Alzheimer's or cancer. No drooling all over his bib in some flea bag nursing home. No your to old to drive. Nope, not Armin Wolf, he was lookin' for action. Can you dig it? You know there is only one other thing I would rather be doing when I die than playing poker, and that's showing some sweet, young, sexy thing how I like to make messy, sticky, steaming hot, brownies. A hole pan of'um. Mmm-mm. Doesn't that sound delicious?

Adios Armin, I hope you were holdin' the nuts when you got to the gate. If not, I'm sure you bluffed your way in.

Here is one for you Armin Wolf.



Adios,
~e~

Tiny Babies

Hello friends,

Tracy sent me this photo she found while cleaning out her e-mail at work. Here are 4 little dumpster pussycats right after I trapped them behind the Fiesta Mart a year ago. Who could throw these little guys away to die? I'm glad they did cause now I got'um, but I would like to knock all 7 of his rotten teeth down his stupid inbred throat.

Here is Penelope, Little Ethel Merman, CaliGirl, and Smudge. Man, I forgot how tiny they were.

Adios,
~e~

I Hate My Life

Hello friends,

"I hate my life" is what a friend of mine told me the other day. My reply was "Me too". Now friends, I have been thinking about this...cause...well...I'm a thinker. Which is kinda ironic considering the lowness of my intelligence quonset tally. Anyway listen, I'm not thinking about how time is relevant to black matter or how the hell to write an ambigram, I'm thinking of...well...usally stupid junk. But not today. If my friend or I really do 'hate my life' then why keep hanging around. I mean one quick tug on the ol' trigger and endless sleep, right? Well I figured it out...kinda. You see, it's gotta be that you stay in this life you hate cause of all the things in this life you love, family, friends, a good stake, music, spring mornings, being loved, floppin' a boat with a flush on the board, wind in your hair, a good pet, the ol' hubba-hubba, etc. It's not our life that we hate, that's to broad, it's the situation that we put ourselves in that we hate. But what do we do about it, you ask? Nothin'. Nothin' at all. And why, you ponder? Cause it's easy to fail. Hell, if I set out to fail I will win every time..........? I don't have to do nothin', just sit on my ass and let failure kick me right smack dab in the nuts. It's simple.

or...

maybe it's not my life I hate, maybe I hate myself. Maybe I'm pissed for not taking advantage of the opportunities handed to me or regret not doing something because I was to scared that I would fail. Maybe subconsiously I thought I was beat before I started so why even try.

or...

maybe I really do hate my life...I don't know.

This is good stuff, huh? People being murdered as we speak....speak? I mean, as I write this, and I'm thinkin' of this garbage. Man, I gotta figure out why I do this.

I love every thing about these little tunes.

Adios,
~e~

The Book and German Darts

Hello friends,

Well, guess what my dumb ass is doing. I am writing a book. Yes, it's true. The long anticipated conglomeration of my thoughts on how to save the world and educate the masses is in the works. Now if that doesn't sound like the end all to end all, I don't know what does... Ah hell, who's kiddin' who here? What a monumental waste of time this is gonna be.

What have I been doing lately, you ask. Well, I have been playing darts against a bunch of Germans on-line for money. I am playing as I write this and I am getting my ass handed to me by some chump named Sven that I should be killin'!

-----------------------------*UPDATE*

I have just won the last 3 in a row and Sven quit like a big German baby. Run away big German baby. Go change your stupid German baby diapers.

It looks like Christian is next. Little does he know, I'm like a herd of lions.
I better go before this slug beats me.

Oh yeah, the craziest thing happened to me the other day. Crazy by even my standards. I can't tell y'all what happened yet, but I will soon enough. This song is a hint.

This is The Lords Of The New Church bangin' 'Down Town'. Nicky Turner (drums) and Dave Tregunna (bass) are/were one of the best rhythm sections to play rock and roll. Dig it.

Brian James (guitar) and I shared a bottle of Mezcal many years ago. Remember that David? And of course hanging out with Stiv Bators (vocals) was unbelievable. R.I.P. Stiv.
'Method To My Madness'


Adios,
~e~

Lady Coppers

Hello friends,

Well, I was this close to writin' y'all from the friendly confines of the David L. Moss Correctional Center in lovely north downtown Tulsa (don't ask me how I know where it is located) See, I was walking to the Fiesta Mart after that big rain storm we had today. As I was crossing the main thoroughfare, I see the police had the road blocked off cause a power line had been crashed into and knocked over. Then I notice a pick-up truck broke down on the side street with a nervous lookin' dude pacing around on his cell phone. Now I'm no Dick Tracy, but I figure he's the cat that whacked that pole. I doesn't look like the fuzz has spotted him yet, so I walk over and tell him if I was him I would leave the truck and amscray outta there. Vamoose. So, he heads off down the road and I head back to the Fiesta Mart. Next thing I hear is someone yell "Come back here!" It looks like the jig is up. Here come two (2) female coppers waddling up with there fancy utility belts a jing, jing, jing-a-lin. I turn around and one of them policettes holler "Which one of you was driving?" Great, here we go. I said that I had walked over there from my house. "Sure you did" she said "let me see your I.D." I reach for my wallet and grab a handful of nothin' but my fat ass. Damn it, I left my wallet at home. "I left my wallet at home, want me to walk home and get it?" I asked. "You stay right there, bud" (bud???) she ordered. She said "I'm not going to ask you again, who was driving?' "I don't know" I said. She raised her voice "Tell me which one of you was driving that truck" CRAP!!! I knew better, I didn't want to, but it happened anyway. I couldn't stop it. It was like when your sick and feel like your gonna puke. As hard as I tried it still came out. "I thought you weren't going to ask me that again" Well friends, they didn't think I was as funny as I do, it seems. I finally convinced them that I wasn't in the truck but, then they wanted me to tell them that I saw that one dude smash the pole, but I'm no snitch. They wanted me to tell them I saw him get out of the truck, but I'm no snitch. They wanted me to tell them that I saw him messin' around that truck, but I'm no snitch. They threatened to run me in for failure to cooperate with an investigation, but I'm no snitch. They finally told me to go home. I walked home on two legs like a man, not on all fours like a rat. There are enough rats and snitches in this world anyway, they don't need one more. They took that fella to jail anyway. It seems there were several other people around there willing to squeal like pigs for the fine women in blue. Oink, oink.

I Fought The Law


Police Truck


Adios,
~e~

All Aboard

Hello friends,

There has been a lot of really sad news lately. Nothing national, just random misfortune linking souls together through a spider web of friendship. I read an e-mail from an old friend of mine, Alicia Brown, and she wrote ~

" ...I thank God every day for the memories. I feel that the best for thing for me to do right now is to share the memories that I have, smile always, laugh often, love life, value everything we touch, and pass this on to our children."

I think this is very good advice. Now, I don't have any children to pass anything along to (if I did have kids I'm sure I would have misplaced them by now so It's probably for the best) So I am gonna give you, my friends, some memories. This is for y'all who grew up in Tulsa through the 60's, 70's, and 80's. Now I wasn't born until 1976 but I have a couple of much older sisters who told me about this stuff. If you weren't raised in Tulsa or you are to young to remember any of this, I hope you enjoy some of it anyway.

------------------ ***

Allllllll aboard!!! We are now loading at gate 13 at the Eddy International Memory Train Station for passengers traveling to the past. Have your tickets ready cause the ticket taker don't like waitin'. We will be departing immediately, so hang on to your hats.

First stop John Chick Junction ~

All off for Scream in the Dark ~
http://tulsatvmemories.com/mahu.html

Have your ticket ready for the King Town~

Next stop Uncle Zebville ~

(what the hell is he talkin' about?)

You don't have to get off here if you don't want to but next stop is Lindaburg ~

For your entertainment we have Tulsa's own JJ Cale ~

And now the movie for the VIP passengers ~

I hope you enjoyed your trip, now get off my memory train before I think about something that could land us all in jail.

Adios,
~e~

Sally Mae and the Westboro Baptist Church

REMOVED

Wonderin'

Hello friends,

I was thinkin', but have you noticed that everyone who is against all that health care reform business already has health care? Hummmm, just wonderin'.



Adios,
~e~

Splintered Hearts on the Wooden Deck of Love

---- James sent me this photo he took on his way back home of a 63 split.

Hello friends,

Well, I went to that party that I thought I might get clipped at...and...I guess you figured out that since I am writin' this, there was no whackin' goin' on (Man, there are so many funny things to write here that I will just have to pass) There were a ton of people there that I hadn't seen in a couple a tons of years. Phillip Young, James 'Jimi Lime' Kirsch, Joey Reidy (I actually see Joe from time to time and we see who can out talk each other. He always wins) Now, there were a few lady's there that I went to school with and the funny thing is, that everyone of them had a thing for your humble story teller at on time or another. I don't mean a couple of them or a few of them, I mean every one of them! Yes, it's true. Boy, was I shocked. What are the odds that every doll in the joint usta be daffy over yours truly? And what was even funnier was...well...I guess most of them still haven't gotten over me yet, sad to say. It must be my brutal boyish good looks or my masculine fur-moans or somethin'. True, I am a sexual Tyrannosaurus, but you would think over time they would have gotten usta mediocrity. I don't know. Oh, and the little games they played that night, a couple of them said hi and walked on by, but I was on to'um. A couple of them acted like they new my face but couldn't remember my name. Ha, good try gals. Heck, several of them had the nerve to act like they didn't even remember me at all, that's how broken up they are. And they all gave Oscar winning performances I must say. Heck, if you didn't know better you would think that they were never noggin over piggies in luuuuv with me. A gaggle of little Meryl Streeps, they were.
James told me that after I left things really went south. Suzy locked herself in the upstairs bathroom and they had to have the maid put her in a full nelson to get her out. Vicky ran out the door crying and crashed in to a tree, breaking her new designer glasses. Missy downed a 5th of Everclear, climbed up on the picnic table and started singing 'America the Beautiful' but substituted my name for America, Rebbecca kissed the refrigerator door, called it 'Eddy Bear', then punched it right in the crisper, Pam and Kathy got into a cat fight (Careful Pam, Kathy grew up with hockey players) which I heard someone video taped and has now become the number one watched video on Youtube. And Rhonda slapped Joey across the face and said something about being a man or not measurin' up or somethin' along them lines.
....but....you know....then again....I might have completely misunderstood him.

I believe this song might explain things, lady's. I like you all, but as friends.

I have recently found out that my stuff is being read over the radio bi-weekly in Asia. I guess a lot of Asianiuns don't have computers, so as a gift to them I am adding subtitles to this video. If you can read Asian, follow along.




How true is this?

Adios,
~e~

Lee Houston

Hello friends,

I heard today that an old friend of mine, Lee Houston has died. Wow, I'm floored. I haven't seen Lee in years, but man, it still hits home. I remember he lived in Johanson Acres (when I was a kid I thought that was where all the rich people lived) I remember his house backed up to the wall that surrounded the Ma-Hu (pronounced may-hue, but we all called it ma-who) Mansion. I remember he had a huge, slobbering, St. Bernard but I don't remember it's name. I remember jumping on his giant trampoline and riding his cool motorcycle. You know I have a confession to make. I have always said that 'Wipe Out' was the first rock and roll song I learned to play. Well, not exactly. It was the first song I learned to play the whole way through, but before I even owned a guitar Lee showed me how to bang out the intro to (you guessed it) 'Smoke On The Water' using only the E (top) string. I guess as much as I hate to conform or hate to be like anyone else, I am exactly the same as 10 bazillion kids who pick up their friends guitar and were taught the 'Deep Purple' classic. What a cool club to be in. Thank you for that, Lee.

My thoughts are with all of Lee Houston's family and friends.

I hope this doesn't seem inappropriate, but it seems to be the only appropriate thing to me.

This is the first song I learned to play. Smoke on the Water.

Adios,
~e~

Neat-O Stuff

Hello friends,

Wow, I got a little worked up on that whole LA Fitness shooting thing, didn't I? Oh well, sometimes I do that. So I'm gonna lighten the mood a bit. I'm gonna spear y'all some stupid story and share a few nifty things with you. Here you go.

-I think this is gonna be my new look. I hope they still make that kinda shampoo.
--------------------------------One of my fav-O-rite pin-ups
-------------------------How cool are these buildings?

-------------------------------------How cool is T-Rex?

=----------------------------==The funniest man on earth

----------------------------------Oh, mama!

--------------------------------------------Jumpin'
----------------------------------Another pin-up doosey
---------------------------------------Ninja Pussycat

------------------------------------------Doctors


----------------------------------------------------Deadbolt

I hope y'all found somethin' you liked.
Adios,
~e~

I Don't Get It

Hello friends,

I came home for lunch today. I made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a diet Coke and sat down to check my e-mail. As my home page came up I saw the story about the shooting at the LA Fitness gym in Pennsylvania. It seems this George Sodini character shot the joint up and killed 3 or 4 women (conflicting reports) and wounded from 1 to 15 (more conflicting reports) He shot 36 or 53 rounds from his pistols (again with the conflicting reports) So there's a lot we don't know, but what we do know is that there are people dead. Dead and gone. Forever. And countless lives shattered into a million pieces like busted glass on the pavement. Mothers, fathers, children, friends, co-workers, aunts, uncles, cousins, teachers, etc, etc, etc. Why would someone want to hurt so many? Well, It seems that Georgie couldn't get himself a date with a broad, much less a girl friend, and it looks like he hadn't been laid in years. Sodini complained on his blog site of not having a girlfriend since 1984, not having a date since May 2008 and not having sex for 19 years (what the....?!?!? 19 years!?!?!?!?!)

"Women just don't like me. There are 30 million desirable women in the US (my estimate) and I cannot find one," he wrote in his blog.

I wonder why? Maybe because your a boring loser or have an incredibly small penis or it might be that your a homicidal creep. Ever think of that, jackass? You know, I have seen the stupidest looking dudes with a chick. I have seen fat guys and ugly guys, dimwits and freaks. Hell, I even have a girl friend. How bad do you have to be to not get to saddle up every now and then? Christ, gettin' laid is easy, cause they don't know what a dick you are yet, it's keepin' them that's hard. I can tell you right now, and I don't care who knows this, if I hadn't taken the skin boat to Tuna Town in 19 years I would be on the phone and have me one of those escorts (Prostitute, hooker, workin' girl, lady of the night, street walker, ho, whore, or what ever you want to call them) at my house before you could say Jack Robinson. I would give her the money then I would give her the pounding of her life (3 whole minutes of it) then send her on her merry way. It's simple. But, this mass shootin' shit just boggles my mind. Just because some limp peckered, saddle oxford wearin' sissy didn't get a pony for Christmas when he was 12 or some Star Trek convention goin' numb-nuts mother didn't give him enough attention which in turn made him spy on her in the shower and masturbate on her shoes, gets a gun and takes it out on people who seem to have the world by the tail. Bullshit, they have problems too. We all do, but some of us except responsibility for our problems and don't blame them on everyone else. It's not our fault you wear your mothers dirty underwear and pump your neighbors dog, Sir Barksalot.

So, why is my life so screwed up? Because, I screwed it up, that's why. I did it, not some single mother who is trying to raise her son, make ends meet, and get her life back on track, you stupid mother fucker. So why can't these week, week, buckets of puss and piss stand up, put there balls on, and be a man? Because they are not men. A real man would try to save those lady's. A real man would be their protector. I guess the general consensus was that Sodini wasn't a man, hell he couldn't get a member of the opposite sex to give him a hand job much less fornicate with him. But I will give him this, at least the sorry son-of-a-bitch shot himself. Bravo. He also wrote ~

Maybe soon, I will see God and Jesus. Eternal life does NOT depend on works. If it did, we will all be in hell. Christ paid for EVERY sin, so how can I or you be judged BY GOD for a sin when the penalty was ALREADY paid. People judge but that does not matter. I was reading the Bible and The Integrity of God beginning yesterday, because soon I will see them.

Fuck you. If there is a God, your ass is fricasseed my friend. Deep fried. You think it was tough here, try to find a girlfriend in Hell.

I think about those people that have to go home to an empty house that shouldn't be empty. It is the loneliest place in the world. The sounds of foot steps down the hall or the refrigerator opening, sounds you never think about until silence takes their place. The only sound you can hear is the sound of your heart breaking. Ain't it deafening.

I wrote a song a few years back called 'Strung Out'. It had a couple of lines in it that went ~

"I miss that sweet smell of home.
And it was home cause it smelled like you"

Here is the saddest song in the world..
Adios,

~e~