Mom

Hello Friends,

Well, Fathers Day was a couple of days ago, so I have something to say about my mother. Some of you know my mother so this is nothing new, but for those of you who have never had the privilege, let me explain. I guess I get my mouth from my mom. Pop doesn't say much and so when he does it is something that needs to be said. Pop has a saying "Just because you may know what they are talking about doesn't mean you have to jump in the conversation." My mom and I choose to ignore this. I caught my mom in the Dallas airport telling some lady from Germany about me forging my pops signature on a progress report I got from Mr. Tucker in my 7th grade math class. Hell, she saw a biker chick in South Dakota and felt she had to tell her that her tattoo was very beautiful. The biker chick told mom that her 'old man' gave it to her and pointed to a huge, bearded, tattooed, leather jacketed, true Outlaw MC, biker. Mom proceeds to walk up to this cat and his Outlaw brothers and tell him what a wonderful artist he is. He looked at her a little shocked then laughed. But, he did offer to give mom the very same tattoo for free if she would let him. She said 'no thank you'. Mom was then there buddy and the safest 70 some year old lady in the joint.

My mom knows more about nothing than any one else in this world. She will beat you ass at Trivial Pursuit so bad you will like it. She can tell you what they call the little plastic thibgy-ma-bob on the end of your shoelace or what the proper name is for a bunch of crows. She can inform you of the name of that fancy pants artist Vinny Van Gogh's brother or who was the first Indian across the Little Big Horn (*answers below*) All of mom's units of measure are done in comparison, for example "...it took as much concrete to build that building as it would to fill 3 football stadiums full", or "...give me about as much as it would take to fill, oh I don't know, I guess about a coffee cup", or "...about the distance from my elbow to the end of my little finger". You get the idea.

But this here truly describes my mother. It was about 1978 or so. I was a scroungy looking, skinny kid in Jr. high. Now, my mother is one of the best cooks in the world. If you don't believe me ask any one who has eaten at her table. So, all my friends loved to be around at meal time. Mom would never ask them if they wanted to stay, she would just call them to the table. Scott Jobe would just walk into the kitchen and ask her when dinner was gonna be ready. Anyway, Roger Hulse was over one evening and mom called us in to eat. So there we sat, me, mom, pop, and Roger. We all had a steak, baked potato, corn, etc. Well, all of us except mom. She had salad. I asked her, while I was shoving food into my mouth, why she wasn't eating a steak. She said she wasn't very hungry and just wanted a salad. Now, my dumb ass bought this answer and continued to shovel. The diner was excellent as always.

I look back and am surprised I found my way out of bed back then. See, there were no microwaves back in the 'good ol' days', so if you wanted steak you had to thaw it out and that took a day or two. She didn't have steak because Roger was eating hers. When I asked her about this later in life she laughed and said that she had given up several meals to my friends. Mom loved my buddies, especially Roger and Scott. At Rogers father funeral a while back, mom and Scott talked for a quit a while. They always make each other laugh. When mom and pop were leaving I told them thank you for coming (Driving in from Bartlesville when your in your 80's is a big deal) Mom said "We wouldn't miss this, we love Roger." Then it hit me, they knew Ken and wanted to give there condolences, but the main reason they were there was for Roger.

I have the best mom and pop in the world. If it was socially acceptable, hell, I would live with them. Now, mom would say "You weren't invited" but she would let me anyway. Man, her cookin' every night, I would be in heaven!

This song was one of the first 'hard rock' albums I bought. When I got home with it, I put it on the record player that was hooked to our cool console television in the living room. I turned it up and ran over to mom who was reading in her chair and shoved the album cover in her face. "Look what I just bought" I said. Now, I expected to see her reel back in horror, cover her ears, and tell me to get that Satan inspired filth out of her house. But all I got was a 'That's nice. Go listen to it in your room, please' What a let down.


I did the same thing with this album a few years later (There was no cussin' on the album. I still don't cuss in front of mom, pop would kick my liver loose). And all I got this time was 'I can't understand a word. What they are saying?' I was stumped. I had know idea what they were saying. I just took the record off the turn table and went to listen to it in my room.


*Answers to the questions *
a) Aglet
b) A murder
c) Theo
d) Chief Gall

Adios,
~e~

O.O.D.P.C.B.E.

aaaaa Official Oklahoma Dumpster Pussycats Caught By Eddy

The following is a paid advertisement by Eddy Amigo.

Hello friends,

Guess what,cats and kittens? *what?* There is a new trend goin' round. It seems that all the cool daddy-0's and real gone dolls are getting them selves something wild and far-out. From Beverly Hills to Broadway, the hip and trendy are standing in line and forking over piles of dough to own a real life, back alley, street fightin', dumpster pussycat. Michael Jordon has one. So does Oprah. Brad and Angelina have three and Bill Gates has one with a gimpy leg named Sweet Peeair that cost over $300,000.00! And now, because of a miscalculation by the breeder, and for a limited time, you can own your own Official Oklahoma Dumpster Pussycat Caught By Eddy (OODPCBE) for nothing. That's right, nothing!! And if you call in the next 20 minutes, because I can't do this all day, as a bonus I'm gonna double the offer. Is that's right? *yup* Well, OK. That's two (2) Official Oklahoma Dumpster Pussycat Caught By Eddy (OODPCBE) for the price of one. Which is nothin'. Not available in stores.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaBath time for the babies

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaThe death grip on my thumb

You know, I hate Billy Mays. Hate him with a passion. Why is he always yelling at everyone? And did he color his beard with a Sharpe? Haaaaate him! I will admit that OxiClean is bad ass tho.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaPussycats just looooove Tracy
Speakin' of cats, here are three of the coolest cats of all time. These guys were the first. Back when rock-n-roll was dangerous. Before the record companies culled them out and replaced them with watered down, pretty boys that parents would approve of.

One of my all time fav-0-rite songs


Oklahoma's own


These cats were the first guys to tear up hotel rooms, get into drunkin' brawls, and have girls pulled from the audience during the show and taken back stage to......meet the band


Adios,
~e~

Iggy Mood

Hello friends,

Man, I have been in an Iggy mood lately. This is usually not a good thing. I don't mean that Iggy's not a good thing, Iggy's a great thing. I mean this is the kinda mood that always seems to land me in trouble. It's happened more than once......But you know, maybe I'm imagining things. Yeah, I'm probably just being silly. Hell, you convinced me...I'm goin' with it. Besides, what kinda trouble can I get in to anyway, being invisible and bullet proof and all.

Soul radiation in the dead of night
Love in the middle of a fire fight

Gonna keep `em movin` wild
Gonna keep a swingin` baby

So messed up I want you here
In my room I want you here

No fun to hang around
Freaked out for another day

Lose sleep baby and stay away from bed
Raw power is sure to come a runnin to you


Adios,
~e~

I Win

Hello friends,

Check this out. The other day I got in to a debate with a complete imbecile. Which, by the way, are my fav-O-rite people to debate with cause I can't win against the smart people. Now, I was workin' in this house, doin' somethin' ner other, and I hear this dumberd outside rantin' and ravein'. I don't know this guy from Adam, but I could tell right away that he is one of those cats who's brain didn't developed all the way back when he was in the womb. OK, so he is goin' on about how he hates fagots. By God he hates them friends, I know cause he has said it about 50 times. And get this, he hates them fagots cause of the Bible. That's what he said. The Bibles the reason cause it says a man shouldn't lay with another man. Now, I don't know much about nothin' but I don't remember the Bible doin' to much talkin' about hatein' anyone. I assume we were talkin' about the same Bible. But when he pulled that ol' I believe in Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve horse shit I had to get involved.

So, I mosey on outside and I say "Do you really believe it's a choice? I kinda feel like those fagots was born that way." "Bullshit" he said real hateful (I took offense to his tone) "Well, I knew some boys that I went to elementary school with that were so sissified that they played with dolls. They grew up to be full fledged flamin' queers. I don't think they even understood about that choice when they was in 3rd grade" He smiled, gave a little snort, and shook his head, like I was to stupid to understand. Now friends, if you want to get my dandruff up, do that smile, snort, and shake thing. My insides were winding up like a big spring. "The Bible explains it all. It ain't no choice" he said firmly. "Ok, ok, don't get mad" I said "Let me ask you this. How do you deal with it?" "Deal with what" his dumb ass replied. I said "You know.....deal with it" He said "What, the fagots?" "No....I mean....well...say your in a bar over on the West side and say you have had a few brewskis and say there is some muscled up dude playin' pool with real tight Wrangles on and he has a kick ass mullet to boot. Now, your thinkin' bout how you would like nothin' more than to drop to your knees and suck the pants right off him. How do you control those urges?" He looked at me like I was crazy "I don't have those urges" he said. "Oh, so it's not a choice" I came back. "It is to a choice, just not for me" He screamed.

Now friends here is where I told a little white lie....well...a big whopper actually.

I said "You look like a Christian and seem to be pretty well versed with the Bible. Then you know that it says in the book of Job (I was referring to the book of Scott Jobe, one of my stupid friends) and I quote 'If I temptath one, I temptath them all' (I completely made that up. God forgive me) Right? So tell me, how do you fight your homosexual tendencies?" "I don't have any!" he screamed. "Are you calling God a liar!!" I screamed back. "Hell, no!!!" he yelled.

Now friends, I learned this next trick from Buggs Bunny. The ol' Rabbit season/duck season number.


So I hollered back "So your saying it's a choice then!!!!" He is red in the face. He yells "IT AIN'T NO CHOICE!!!!!" "Right, that's what I've been saying all along. I'm just glad you weren't callin' God a liar" I said. He was was to confused to fight anymore and just kinda stared at me. But not me, I was ready to fight his inbred, redneck, stupid, stupid, stupid, ass.

Now friends, those of you who know me know I have some gay guy friends. But this next part wasn't about them. This is about the gay gals. I have family members who are gay gals. And I don't just mean blood family, I also mean the gay gals they are married to. They are my family also. I have a gay gal friend that I know that I look up to more than any one on this planet (except my folks) I love her too. I wish I had 1/10 of her smarts.

I look him straight in the eyes and said as serious as I have ever said anything "So, how do you feel about lesbians?" This is it. I am past trickin' him. He is gonna say something bad about those people I love and I am gonna knock his damn jaw loose. Say something, pleeeeeease. Then this friend of mine who knows about my family and friends and knows that I am baiting him, jumps in. "That's enough, stop it for Gods sake. No more lets go back to work. Come on Eddy, please" he begs. And it ends. I win.

I don't really know what the morel to the story is...I guess it's be careful what you say around people you don't know, they may love some gay gals, or maybe it's don't blame God for your insecurities, or something along those lines.



Adios,
~e~

Andrew Wyeth ~ 'Christina's World'

Hello friends,

I came across this web page that had this blog written by Vannrox. Since I am a bit slow, I had to read it a couple of times to understand what Vannrox meant. This is what was written.

"...The art of painting, one of the greatest traditions in all of human history has been under a merciless and relentless assault for the last one hundred years. I'm referring to the accumulated knowledge of over 2500 hundred years, spanning from Ancient Greece to the early Renaissance and through to the extraordinary pinnacles of artistic achievement seen in the High Renaissance, 17th century Dutch, and the great 19th century Academies of Europe and America. These traditions, just when they were at their absolute zenith, at a peak of achievement, seemingly unbeatable and unstoppable, hit the twentieth century at full stride, and then ... fell off a cliff, and smashed to pieces on the rocks below. Since World War I the contemporary visual arts as represented in Museum exhibitions, University Art Departments, and journalistic art criticism became little more than juvenile, repetitive exercises at proving to the former adult world that they could do whatever they damn well wanted ... sadly devolving ever downwards into a distorted, contrived and contorted notion of freedom of expression. Freedom of expression? Ironically, this so-called "freedom" as embodied in Modernism, rather than a form of "expression" in truth became a form of "suppression" and "oppression." Modernism as we know it, ultimately became the most oppressive and restrictive system of thought in all of art history..."

????

Now, I'm not even gonna try to debate this, cause I'm obviously not so smrt on things (and the name Vannrox sounds scary. Scary like something on Star Trek) And Vanny used very long words, most of which I had to look up to figure them out. The only time I use long words is when I make them up to make me look like I'm a thinker. One time I wrote '...but the past evolutionary changes are nothing but parsipical threads to the future' and '...the issues of bending time are irrelevant to the suuduedal theory of nawtrasekel 4' See what I mean? Pretty clever, I must say.

If you went to collage, do you remember that one chick in your class that was 40 something? The one with the long, straight, black hair and bangs, no make up, and pants pulled up to her boobs? She had 23,741 credit hours but no job. She was the self proclaimed intellectual who always had to comment on everything the professor said. She was the one who always had 'something' when the professor would say " If nobody has anything we'll leave early" She always had to 'one up' everyone. Remember her. (I'm sure there are men who do this also, but as far as I could remember it was mostly some dumb ol' girl) I always hated her. I think Vanny is one of those chicks. I bet this hag has never picked up a paint brush except to put Killz over the words 'SHUT UP' that some classmate spray painted on her bumper sticker covered 79 Volvo wagon. And what the hell does Vanny know about art anyway? Art is about expression, not about painting a really good hoot owl in a tree. It's about freedom. It is about bearing your soul. True artist don't care if you like it or not. That's not why they do it. That's why art critics are not artists. I don't believe Andrew Wyeth would agree with Vanny. And believe me, Andy could paint the most kick ass hoot owl if he wanted to. But like I said, I'm not gonna get into a scrap with words when I am so obviously overly out worded. Not me buster. I stay away from people who are a bunch more smarter than me.

At an art show a couple were looking at a painting. The canvas was painted white with a red circle in the lower corner. Unaware that the artist was standing next to them, the lady looked at her husband and said "I could do that". The artist leaned forward and said "But I did".

This one's for Vanny!!!

Adios,

~e~

Have you ever had one of those days where you feel just down right sad? I am having one of those days. I seem to be having 'one of thoes days' more than usual lately. I hate it.

Man, I wish I could write songs like these cats. As hard as I try, or don't try, it ain't happenin'.

I know the whiskey it won't soothe my soul

the morphine won't heal my heart

but if you take me down to the infirmary Oh yeah

I won't have to sleep or drink alone.



Adios,
~e~

The Johnny Ramone Incident

Hello friends,

It was 2001. Three years before Johnny Ramone lost his battle with cancer.

I extend my hand to shake his and I said.............(wait a minute folks, let me back up a few hours)

So, I am sittin' in the poker room at the Mirage Casino in LasVegas. It's about 11 in the morning and I have been there most of the night grinding away. This has been a good trip so far. I have been killin'em. Now this was the first trip to Sin City for the lady friend I brought with me. She was very shocked, but she had a blast. Now my friends, you see, winning is better than losing cause you can have tons of fun blowing their money. We bought so much stuff we were shipping it back home by the box full. We took limos instead of taxis (limo drivers are a great source to get things you need that you may have choose not to bring with you on the plane i.e. a reading lamp, a kitten, a bunt cake, etc) We went to that fancy strip joint that has dudes dancin' upstairs and chicks on poles down stairs. We went to a bunch of fancy shows and ate a bunch of fancy food. I took her to Valentino's Zootsuit Connection to shop and bought her bunch of fancy clothes.

Anyway, back to the Mirage.

So I'm sittin' there and Art 'Ed "Hey Ralphy Boy" Norton' Carney sits down. He didn't play long cause he was 117 years old and having trouble staying awake. So later that evening, as we are getting ready to go out, I tell my friend about playing cards with my good buddy Art. She asks me if I spoke to him or got his autograph. That's when Mr. Big Shot (yours truly) starts in "Autograph?!? Listen doll, he puts his pants on one leg at a time just like me. I don't get on my knees for any man. Maybe I should get all goo-goo eyed and ask if I could shine his stinkin' shoes while I'm at it" My chest was stuck out as I paraded around our luxurious economy suite shaking my finger in the air acting and sounding like Ralph Kramden (with out meaning too)

So later later that evening after we had seen Rick Springfield in the FX show at the MGM (It was as bad as it sounds, but my friend looooooves Rick Springfield) we are walking through the Forum Shops. I looked like a freak, I tell you. But in a good way. My hair was greased up and my side burns were long. I was wearing a blue 1970's western suit and a wild 1950's tie from Renburgs. And of course a pair of pointy toed boots. I am struttin' around like I am somebody. Then it happens. Here comes Johnny Ramone out of Versace not 10 feet from me. I'm dumbfounded. Not only that it was him but that he was in a fancy two dollar joint like that (I blame his wife) I forgot all about my infamous 'I'm a man' soliloquy, and I made a B-line straight for my favorite punk rock guitar player. I extend my hand to shake his and I said "You changed my life" He smiled and asked me my name. ????? Ah oh, my brain has frozen up solid.....think stupid, think.....this is an easy one...THINK! "Eddy" I replied. So we stood there staring at each other not saying a word. Then finally he asked "Where are you from Eddy" I just stood there with a big, stupid smile on my face and beads of sweat rolling down my brow. I'm completely tongue tied......what did he just ask? I forgot the question. I'm starting to feel sick at my stomach. Then I stumble through this timeless statement "Tulsa, that's where I'm from. It's in Oklahoma. Your from New York" (Damn it! Did I just tell him where he was from? Shut up dummy, just shut your big yapper. But no-can-do, I just kept on a diggin' that hole deeper and deeper. I wanted to cry) "I saw you and your band, the Ramones, (Christ pinhead, he knows his bands name) at the Cains in 79" He informed me that it was in 1978, but said it was December so close enough..........oh no, frozen again......pleeeeze God, help me......Then I said this classic line "I got a CD song I wrote on and sang on...a line I had wroten (wroten?!?! What the hell does 'wroten' mean?) that says 'I'm like Johnny Ramone with my pants on fire' that's what it says" Lord he must have been proud........frozen.....come on.........Then, out of no where, this poured out of my mouth. I didn't want to say it, but it just came out anyway. I was helpless. "My guitar strap is just like yours". Somebody shoot me. We shake hands again and say goodbye. He walks off and I just stood there hating myself and wanting to punch my balls in. I mean, give my testicles a solid Mike Tyson uppercut.

But my friends, you will be glad to know that I kept my integrity and didn't ask for his autograph. I am to much of a man for that. I had my friend chase him down in 'Just For Feet' and get it for me, cause I don't get on my knees for any man.
***

'All the rest is just jive and honey' What the hell does that mean?


My stupid homeless friend Nipper is staying with Tracy and I till he finds a new place. This 'Honeymooners' clip not only kinda resembles us, it sounds exactly like us. Exactly. Here is Ralph Kramden and Ed Norton. For those of you to young, Art Carney is the skinny one.


Here is the famous 'pants on fire' line.


Adios,
~e~

Hit Me

Hello friends,

I have an old ex friend who is in some trouble. Quite a bit of trouble I hear. Now, I haven't spoken to him but I think the root of all his trouble is that he has a gambling problem. I tried to get him to bet with me, back in the day, and he wouldn't bet more than a soda. Hell, that's no fun. Now I hear he's been flyin' off to LasVegas and haunting the casinos around here. Let me tell you something, I am a bit of a sporting man myself. More than most I suppose. And believe me, I have seen those faces across the table from me. That look of despair. They don't look mad, they look like their whole world has collapsed. Like they are about to puke. Whether they lost the grocery money or their life savings or the money they stole from work which they planed to sneak back after they get back to even is irrelevant. They all look like they are gonna slit their wrists. There is nothing worse than a degenerate gamble who is desperate and playing on tilt. You can pick them out. You can smell the blood in the water. I always feel bad for them, but they are easy money so the sharks circle.

So here are my fool proof gaming tips to keep you out of trouble.

Now, these are not for you who (you who? Oh youuuu whoooo) take their 20 dollars and head out for a night of high jinx and fun. These tips are for you who take some cash to the casino to gamble.

1) Learn how to play the game before your dumb ass ever sits down in front of a dealer. In 21 there is only one play for each hand. EVER. If you don't know what they are, don't play until you do. Now, this doesn't mean your gonna win, your just playing the odds. I don't play 21 here. I think it's ludicrous to have to ante. Why would I pay someone to play a game that's already in there favor? But If you want to know how to play, email me.

2) Every one has a uncle who has a system and kills'um in Atlantic City. Bull shit. There are no systems on how to win, there are only ways to put the odds more in your favor.

3) Don't play for the adrenalin rush, play for the money.

4) Don't play on tilt. Never let your emotions control your gambling. Never play mad, depressed, sad, sick, gloomy, etc.

5) Never play to catch up. When it's gone it's gone. Let it go.

6) Never gamble with the grocery money.

7) Control your losses. This one is kinda in depth. If you want to know how, send me an email and I will explain it.

8) Pay attention to what the hell you are doing. Do you think that the casino owners in LasVegas have those waitresses boobs all hanging out cause they like boobs? No, it's because boobs like me, who like boobs, get distracted when they see boobs. That's why.

9) Stay sober. Drugs are OK if they are the right kind of gambling drugs....kidding, just kidding. Drugs are bad.

10) It's easy to know when to walk away a loser, but more important, you need to know when to walk away a winner.

11) If you are winning, you tip. People around here don't tip. If your winning you tip your dealer, the waitress, the cashier, the valet, the chick with the funny hair in the gift shop, etc.

12) And last, it's LasVegas not Vegas and it's 21 not blackjack.

So, are we cool? It only takes a blink of an eye to lose it all. Don't end up like my ol' ex friend. Believe me, he's in hot water.

***

A few years back I was walking through the Forum Shops at Cesar's Palace and low and behold guess who walks out of Versace? Johnny Ramone and his wife, that's who. We chatted for about 5 minutes. Now friends, I have said some dumb things in my day but let me tell you, that night I strung a plethora of idiotic statements together that would have made Rain Man sound like Copernicus. Oh well, I gotta go to K-mart and get some underwear....yeah.


Adios,
~e~

The Mighty 16

Hello friends,

Today I am a little discouraged. I was checking out some of the other blogs on this here site and found them all to be much better written than mine, look much better than mine, and have hundreds of followers. I have 16. Not to say that your quality is worth less than their quantity, but as sheer numbers go, I think I'm in last place. Can you believe my very own sisters aren't on here. Hell, Tracy isn't even on here. I suppose she gets to hear enough of my stupid crap around the house. I guess I can't really blame her.

Oh well, here's to the mighty 16. Hip hip hooray!!!

Have you ever noticed how certain songs can make you feel a certain way? I mean, some songs actually make me feel physically different. These two song do this to me more than most. They were from different times, but both make me feel the same way. I get this weird feeling in my stomach. I don't know how to explain it. It's not that they make me sad, just kinda strange and empty. I don't know.

I got a line straight from my heart ~

There was a time it ran to you ~

Another place where we were smart ~

Before the flood and time was through ~

I sing myself to sleep at night ~

I sing myself to sleep ~

Another song about the rain ~

Coming down it burns through me ~

Another song about the rain ~

It never rained so viciously ~


You always wanted more time ~

To do what you ~

Always wanted to do ~

Now you got it ~

And I~

I must be high ~

To say goodbye ~

Bye bye bye ~


Adios,
~e~