~e~

2011-11-27T11:49:00.000-08:00

I have stopped posting here and have been putting a few things on Facebook instead.

http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000518272189

The Ramones vs Styx, Journey, and REO

2010-08-19T15:23:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

When I was in high school my friends usta give me a hard time about being a Ramones fan. They would joke about how weird Joey looked and would imitate the 1-2-3-4 count like Corky from 'Life Goes On' was calling it out. Now, they were listening to sorry crap like Styx, Journey, and REO Speedwagon. For some stupid reason they thought that was good music. See, the corporate big shots brain washed their tiny pea brains in the 'tiny pea brain, brain washing conspiracy of the 1970's' conspiracy back in the 70's. They couldn't help it cause they got tiny pea brains. Anyway, now that time has passed and I can look back, I can see just how tiny their brains actually were and how I had super future X-ray vision for cool junk. It was obvious to me cause The Ramones didn't have kinky perms or write a song about their hair dresser Mr. Roberto like that girl singer for Styx did (That is a true story about the song Mr. Roboto. How sick and sad is that?) The Ramones didn't cancel a gazillion shows cause their throats were sore like that girl singer for Journey did(The Ramones played 2,263 shows, roughly as many as The Grateful Dead) The Ramones didn't wear tight spandex pants on their big fat asses like that girl guitar player for REO did (The Ramones wore jeans with holes in the knees) The Ramones didn't play state fairs, revival shows, or the Wind Jammer in East Tulsa like those three slugs. The Ramones didn't have some stupid band name that some num-skull thought sounded cool, like Boston, Foreigner, or Supertramp (The Ramones got the band name from a story that Paul McCartney called himself Paul Ramone when the Beatles were playing the bars in Hamburg, Germany before they were famous. See, that way some young fraulein couldn't track him down if he knocked her up. That's why they all took the last name Ramone as well) A few years back some one decided to put together a Ramones tribute album and the likes of U2, Pearl Jam, Kiss, Metallica, Marylin Manson, The Red Hot Chile Peppers, Foo Fighters, Rancid, Green Day, The Offspring, Rob Zombie, Garbage, The Pretenders, and Tom Waits all recorded songs for it. Hell, Joey Ramone has a street named after him in New York City, and the nations largest metropolis celebrated Joey Ramone day ta-boot. That's a little different than having a dirt road named after you and a wing-dig that evening in Afton or Pawhuska. The Ramones raised several hundred thousand dollars for the 911 families, did benefits for the homeless, and even gave money to by Kevlar for the New York City Police Department. The Ramones were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame on their first ballot in 2002. Those other three bands haven't even been nominated.

Just because a singer has a 6 octave voice or a guitar player can run scales up and down the neck of his guitar to beat the band, doesn't mean their any good. As a friend of mine said to some jack ass who was bashing the Ramones "Rock and roll isn't about great musicians, it's about great music." Well said, friend. He wasn't one of my tiny pea brained friends.

Adios,
~e~

Where Have All The Little Monkey Kisses Gone?

2010-08-07T20:52:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

How do people fall in love? I mean, what is it inside us that makes us have that 'goofy way you feel' feeling for another person? Is it some kind of endorphin that makes you happy when you see that person walk in to the room? What causes you to get that weird, spongy sensation in your stomach when that special person smiles at you? And I mean that smile where you know they are feeling the same way you are. What makes you dizzy when you have been in Louisiana doing hurricane Katrina clean up and on the return trip home the bus carrying the volunteers breaks down at 2:30 in the morning just 30 miles south of Tulsa and when she comes to pick you up she gets out of the car and runs to you and jumps in your arms and raps her legs around your waist then gives you a million little monkey kisses all over your face on the side of the highway as the semi trucks roar by? Could it be a chemical imbalance that makes you feel that way for that certain someone and not feel that way for someone else?

So, after going throw all of that malarkey, how do some people wind up losing that feeling for one another? Do those little electrical sparks stop jumping around your brain after a while? How do things that usta make them laugh, all of a sudden make them mad? How does a hero turn into a villain? How do monkey kisses turn in to kicks in the balls? (metaphorically speaking) Now to begin with, the answers to these questions are not the answers I'm really looking for. But you see, you have to answer those questions, to get to the question that I want the answer to. What I really want to know is, how does a wonderful, skipping through the daisies, dancing on a star, kind of love some how turn in to hating my stupid guts?

'The wind of fate has pried us loose..'

Adios,
~e~

Franny Beecher

2010-07-03T12:52:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

As much as I love all the founding fathers of rock guitar, like Carl Perkins, Link Wray, Scotty Moore, Chuck Berry, Cliff Gallup, and Paul Burlison, nobody, and I mean nobody, tore it up like Franny Beecher. Next time you here Rock Around the Clock, listen to the lead guitar. It's blistering. Nobody was playing like that back then.

I got the pleasure and honor to meet Mr. Beecher about ten years ago at the Jackson Rockabilly Festival in Jackson Tennessee (Home of Carl Perkins) He was a wonderful guy who spent several minutes talking to me about what ever I wanted to talk about. Think about it, this cat was there at the start. He is one of the guys responsible for all this rock and roll business. From the Beatles to the Sex Pistols, Led Zeppelin to Nirvana, The Rolling Stones to Green Day, and everything in between. But I wasn't sure if I wanted to see him preform. He was in his eighties and like the dumb ass that I am, I thought he probably couldn't play very well any more, and I didn't want to see that. Well, Mr. Beecher got to join the long list of people who have proved me wrong. He destroyed that guitar. Smoked it. It was amazing.

Adios,
~e~

Does God Have A Sense Of Humor?

2010-06-27T16:23:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

Does God have a sense of humor? You bet your sweet ass he does. I'll prove it to you. Now, the last couple of years have been pretty tough. I won't go in to all of it now, just take my word for it. Well, I started to clean out my garage yesterday. My garage is not hooked up to the house, it's kinda stuck in my back yard. The driveway runs from the street, up past the house, through the gate to the garage. So, I pulled everything out of the garage and on to the driveway or in the back yard. A friend stopped by and we played some darts (real darts) where I promptly got spanked every single game. I never returned to the garage cleanin'. I get up this morning to find out it rained last night. Most of my stuff was in plastic totes with out the lids. So my stuff didn't just get wet, it got to soak. The other stuff was in card board boxes, which fell apart and left everything in the grass or on the wet concrete. I had a full rack of cloths, records, CD's, movies, electronic stuff, tools, photos, some of my paintings, etc. Most of it is ruined. I felt like it was the last straw. I thought I was going to cry. Then I hear thunder, so I'm trying to get most of it back in the garage. As I'm bringing the last rain filled tote in, I'm pushing another box on the floor over with my bare foot to make room for the one I'm holding. As I'm doing this one of those fold up metal carts, used to haul files and office things around, falls over and mashes my toes. Now you tell me, does God have a sense of humor or what?

I'm tied.

Adios my friends,
~e~

Virtual Darts General Patton vs.Hansel and Gretel

2010-06-24T22:27:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

Well, I'm a little pissed, a little disappointed, and a little hurt, but I'm more pissed than the other two. There is something that I haven't told y'all...cause...well...it's a little embarrassing. You see, I play virtual darts on-line, and well, I am ranked number one in the world. I'm the only American in the top ten. That is the Gods honest truth, number one. The good part is that it makes me zero dollarinos, zilch. So I don't have to worry about taxes and what to spend the money on, so that's nice. Finally something I'm good at...virtual darts...wow. Now for the last few weeks I've been hanging around 6th, give or take a place, but I have played over my head lately and made the big push to the first spot yesterday. So what, big deal right? Right. But what I'm writing about is how the damned Germans have turned on me. These two dudes, who have been the big guns forever, and who were nice as hell when they were spanking my little red, white, and blue ass blue, have started talking all kinds of trash. Like I shouldn't be # 1 cause I'm not good and how I got lucky and so on. One even called me a bitch. Now, Hansel and Gretel (as I call them) have no idea who they are messin' with. First I'm a Merican, by God. (I meant to drop the 'A' cause that's how I say it...Merican) Second, I'm an Okie. I don't care what you say, the biggest sissy form Oklahoma will beat the ever lovin' tar out of some pretzel bendin', lieder hosen wearin', Heidi from Hamburg...sorry I got off on a tangent. Anyway, those idiots thought they could have a war of words with me, the General Patton of the come back and I always cross that line. I asked one of them if they had ever won a war they started. I said it seems that y'all are good about starting things but can't seem to follow through. I told the other that I think my uncle shot his Grampa at Normandy and cut his ear off and wore it on a necklace and he brought his G'pa's blood stained helmet back and gave it to the retarded neighbor kid down the street who used it for a urinal. I asked them why the worn girls bikini bottoms when they went swimming. I said Americans couldn't wear those because it wouldn't cover our huge.......well, you know. I asked how it felt to know that there relatives were all big losers and quitters. Oh, they were big men in Poland but that didn't last long. I told them they probably have American blood cause all the Frauleins were sleeping with our GI's...and who could blame them when all they had were bikini bottom wearers. I commended them on there bang up job with the 1972 Olympic hostage situation. Who was head of security, col. Klink? And on and on and on. They don't like me much. Shouldn't have called me a bitch.

Adios,
~e~

Independence Day

2010-06-01T03:41:00.000-07:00

---------------------------God bless America!!!

Hello friends,

Well, the 4th of July is a only a short month away and since I didn't get any Memorial Day lake invites, I have no delusions of getting one for Independence Day either. I don't matter cause I got plans already. Very important plans doing very important junk, so don't waist your time. Now, I have always kinda fancied myself a bit of a comedian. I like to pull gags and such. Everybody loves my pranks. I have an old friend that thinks it's hilarious when I make fun of him. He laughs for hours. So, here is a joke for you to do at what ever shin-dig your shin-diggin' at.

What you'll need:
1) One small American flag on a stick
2) One kazoo
3) One sparkler
4) One pair of those glasses with the big springy eye balls
5) One Flowerdy Hi-y-yan shirt

OK, after everyone has had a few adult beverages, you kinda slip into the shadows. Put on the glasses (4) Put the kazoo (2) in your mouth. Now, when you see the wife of the host of the party, wait untill her back is towards you then take off your pants. I mean strip down to nothin' but leave the flowerdy Hi-y-yan shirt (5) on. Lite the sparkler (3) and pick up the flag (1) (*note* Do NOT lite the sparkler (3) before you take off your drawers, cause you will burn your nuts when you are a slidin'um off. Trust me on this, OK, I know) Where was I? Oh yeah, Then you run up behind the wife of the host, wavin' that flag, whippin' that sparkler to and fro, hummin' 'My Sharona' on the kazoo, all the while your humpin' her back side to beat the band. I'm tellin' y'all, everyone will be in stitches. I did this gag at the last 4th of July party I was invited to, oh I guess it was in 86, and they are still talking about it. Man, what a night....wheeew!

This ain't the Knack, this is HooDoo Gurus doin' 'Like Wow Wipe Out' I love this tune.

Adios,

~e~

You, Me, and the Supersuckers are Goin' to Hell

2010-05-25T14:21:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

Here are some good words to live by...

Livin' life like the roar of a 747
I don't ask for forgiveness cause I ain't to good at beggin'
Drinkin' and a zingin', I ain't never gonna stop
I'm underneath the house, hidin' from the cops
I don't go to church cause I can't sit still
you say your goin' to Heaven and I'm goin' to Hell

Spend my whole life just trin' to get inside
I always tell the truth you know, unless it's a lie
I don't follow the teachin' of Jesus or the Pope
I'm in a cheap motel with some whore doin' dope
It might'a been your wife, you never can tell
You can go to Heaven, I'm goin' to Hell

And when I'm cast down through the brimstone mist
the devils gonna see me, man he'll be fuckin' pissed
I'll kick him in the cock and bust him right between the ears
I'll turn up the heat and we will party there for years
I hope your doin' fine, hope things are goin' well
while your a servant up in Heaven I'll be runnin' things in Hell

...or maybe not.

Here's another song about goin' to hell. I wonder why these cats don't get asked to play the Oprey?

I love it when I'm in one of these moods.

Adios,
~e~

Read This

2010-05-20T22:41:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

Well, now I've gone and done it. You see, I was looking at a friends Face Book photos and the caption under one read "Some one Photo Shop me some hair" My friend is noticeably thinning on top. So, I put a Pompadour and big sideburns on him. It looked so funny that I put a fancy white jump suit and some gold Elvis glasses. I didn't use Photo Shop (I use to have Photo Shop but you need a physics degree to work it and I'm a few hours short on that one) Instead I used Windows Paint, so the pic didn't look real, it looked like a cartoon. To me, that's what made it funny. I also did a Uncle Fester, Pipi Longstocking, Marilyn Monroe, and a Chippendale dancer. The photos I used weren't of just friends, they were friends I really care about. Well, I fixed up a photo of a guy who has been a friend of mine for a long, long, time. I took the photo and put a jacket and a cap on him of a sports team that he hates. I mean really, really, REALLY, hates. I put it on my photo page on Face Book and somehow it gets sent to a gazillion people. My friend came unhinged. I truly thought it was Innocent and had know idea he would come unraveled. Then one thing led to another and things got a little heated. Anyway, I apologised and said I would take it off, which I did. I also removed all the other photos I rigged up. So, I'm pacing the floor, my head is about to explode I'm so pissed. Then it hits me, well it took a while, more like it poured over me like molasses. It doesn't matter if I think he over reacted or if I think h was being too sensitive. It doesn't matter if I meant no harm or that I thought it was funny. What matters is, he didn't think it was funny and I hurt him. Who am I to decide what's funny or not if it's at someone else's expense? Just because it wouldn't bother me doesn't mean it wouldn't bother someone else, and the last thing I want to do is hurt someones feelings, especially someone I care for. So, that being said, I would like to apologise to any one I have offended, upset, pissed off, teased, poked fun at, ragged on, or made mad. Those were not, or ever, my intentions. I hope you will except this apology in the manner and spirit that it is given.

Adios,
~e~

PS Everybody feel better now?

A Question For You

2010-05-17T21:33:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

You know, I understand that I am responsible for my actions, and that 95% of everything bad that happens to me is because of something that I have done. But that doesn't necessarily mean that for every wrong or bad action there is a repercussion. Our days are full of wrong or bad actions, for instance, say a man (Bo Ziffer) walks across the street with out looking and get hit by a bus full of nuns. Action (walking across the street) = repercussion (hit by nuns) right? OK, now let's say if a different man (Ben Wafflehowser) walks across the same street with out looking and doesn't get hit by anything. Action (walking across the street) = ??? (No repercussion) right? So why is it that the Bo Ziffers of the world, it seems, are always getting hit by buses full of nuns, and the Ben Wafflehowsers of the world, it seems, don't get hit by shit? Hell, some Ben Wafflehowsers not only make it across the street with out a scratch, but find a 20 dollar bill on the sidewalk that some Bo Ziffer has lost, all the while cars and dump trucks and buses full of nuns crash and collide all around him. I, on the other hand, am one of those guys that gets hit by the bus full of nuns while I'm standing there oblivious, pushin' that button that is suppose to change the traffic light (but never does) 100 times like a machine gun. Push-push-push-push-push (Come onnnn) push-push-push (For the love of God, please) push-push (Somebody yells "Look out for that bus full of nuns. It's out-a-control!") Push-push-push- (I yell back "It doesn't seem to be workin', I'll push it some more!") push-push ('What was he say'un?', I think to myself) push-push-push-pu-CRASH! BOOM!! (MY SPLINE!!) BANG!!! SMASH!!!! Silence, except for the sound of one lone hub cap spinnin' on the pavement. The carnage is horrific. I lay there maimed and broken, in the midst of the twisted steel and leaking gasoline, mumbling the Gettysburg Address and holding my busted right arm out, my bloody hand in a fist with my snapped in two places index finger crookedly extended, moving it back and forth like I was pushin' that damn button. It's a pathetic sight friends, pathetic. The point I'm tryin' to make is...is...hum...well, let's see...the point is...ahh...Hell, I forgot the stupid point I was tryin' to make, damn it. I hate it when I do that, sorry....Hold on, I remember, the point I was makin' is take the bus. Yeah, it saves the ozone, helps not pollute the air, saves precious fuel, you can meet nice people, and will mean less traffic on the streets, that way I can zip around town freely in my car and won't have to worry about traffic jams or lines at the gas station. That's my point......i think.

Here's one you haven't heard. This guy was standin' in the street darin' the buss full of nuns to run over him...and they did too...twice. He was a drug addict, an alcoholic, and known to commit acts of violence (Mainly with a baseball bat) and those are the kind of traits I like in my rock stars. This song was released in 1958. It's Ronnie Self screamin' Bop-A-Lena.

Adios,
~e~

I Am The Greatest Of All Time!

2010-05-15T08:05:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

I am hands down, the best, most stupendous, worlds greatest, pussy cat wrangler in the country. Maybe the world. Like my mama says "It ain't braggin' if it's true". And believe you me, it's the Gods honest truth. I bagged and tag a little tiny redheaded baby night before last. It took me all of 30 minutes to nab the little critter. Tracy has already found a home from him. You know what I'm hopin' for? I'm hopin' that someday I will be fortunate enough to catch one of those inbred f**kers tossin' a baby pussycat in the dumpster. What a glorious day that would be. First, I would thank God for delivering this sacrifice unto me. Second, I would shove my thumb in his eye socket until I hit gray matter (if any) then twist it back and forth real fast. Third, I would stomp on his nuts with my Chuck Taylor's until his tiny balls look like little Belgian waffles. And lastly, while he's laying there on the pavement wondering what went wrong with his 'throw away the pussycat' plan, I would relieve myself, I'm sorry friends, but I will piss all over his head. Then everyone will call him names like 'One Eyed Waffle Nuts' or 'Yella Headed Stinky Noodle' or 'Popeye the Cyclopsed Urine Boy' or somtnin' like that. That's what I'm hopin' for.

The coolest cat of all.

My Converse 'Chuck Taylors' or 'Waffel Makers'

Adios,
~e~

The Death-Ray

2010-05-12T07:53:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

The History~
A couple of years ago I had a little bout with the pleurisy. That's where the tissue between the ribs and lungs become inflamed. Great mother of God, I thought I was gonna die it hurt so bad. Any normal man would have lost his mind or committed suicide. Lucky for me I'm as tough as a herd of duck billed platypuses's. Anyway, the doctor told me the problem was my stomach was pushin' my lungs in to my heart or my lungs were pullin' on my pancreas or somethin' along those line. I'm not sure, cause I really wasn't paying attention. But in a nut shell, if I didn't lose my gut, well, basically I was gonna expire. So, two years go by and I haven't changed a thing. I thought if I ignored it, it would go away. It didn't. Some day that will work but as of yet I'm 0 for 2674 (my pop says it won't ever work, but I'm gonna show him someday) I thought about working out but that takes to much effort. Diet crossed my mind...for about 3 seconds. I can't go for walks cause it kills me not to run (that's how I got the pleurisy to begin with...runnin') And I've toyed with the idea about getting a bike, but Schwinn doesn't make Sting-Ray's for adults. Looks like I'm doomed and headed for the ol' marble orchard.

The Now~
Tracy wanted a bike for her birthday...I'm sorry, we don't celebrate her birthday anymore. Let me start over.

The Now~
Tracy wanted a bike for the Tracgiving day 'giving of the gifts' ritual. Tracgiving day is a day set aside to celebrate the knowing of Tracy. I got her this pearlescent pink beach cruiser. I got her the perfect bike...cause she picked it out. It's got a bell, a basket, a book rack, a light, a drink holder, a gadget that tells how fast your going, how far you've gone, average speed, top speed, how many calories burned, the time in Pango Pango, if your about to come in to money, and the color of your underwear. It's topped off with a pink flower on the handle bars. It's very glamorous.

Now, this all boils down to I'm gonna have to get a bicycle. I went to a fancy bike shop and looked at some fancy bikes. My shopping experience lasted a bit longer (but not much) than my thoughts about starting a diet. It's not that I couldn't afford one, it's that I just don't have that kind of money. So, I went to Target and bought about the first bike I came across. A blue Schwinn Legacy. It's frame was shaped kinda like the bright red Sting-Ray I had as a kid (the greatest bike in the world) so I bought it. I have modified it a bit. Not much, just a couple of tweaks to make my bike riding experience a little more enjoyable.

Here is what it looked like when I bought it~

Here it is today~
I named her Death-Ray cause what use to be an easy bike to ride has turned into a flat black death machine that's gonna pump my ass strait to the coroner if I don't pay attention and the Schwinn Sting-Ray which was the greatest bicycle ever built. I just mashed'um together and that's what I got, Death-Ray. Get it? Very clever I am at times. Don't she look great tho? I love her big, fat Kenda Flame rear tire with a red Nirve rear wheel, 19' ape hangers that I have wrapped with friction tape, a water proof banana seat, a raked springer front end, a Bonneville Salt Flats #13 race plate, black flame grips, 8 ball valve caps, dice rear axle nuts, a baby skeleton squeak-squeak horn, and a chrome skull hood ornament. I love my bike. I love, love, loooooove it. I'm not done with it either. I have a pair of 4" iron cross front axle spinners ordered and I'm gonna get some MP3 speakers that hook to the goose neck so I can blast Motorhead or the Ramones as I fly down the river parks.

The future~
So if your driving down Riverside Drive, there is no need to look for me, cause brother you couldn't miss me if you tried. Oh yeah, with all the time and money I've spent on the Death-Ray, it guess I could have bought one of those fancy bikes at the fancy bike store after all....but, I'm not that fancy and then I wouldn't have the most coolest bike on the planet, would I?

Motorhead playing their tribute to the Ramones ~ R.A.M.O.N.E.S

Adios,
~e~

Jim Blue's Barber Shop ~ A Tulsa Landmark

2010-05-05T01:08:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

I'm gonna ask for a bit of help from ya'll. It's not anything for me. What could I possibly need? I'm smrt as a whippet and as pretty as any man could ever wish to be. No, this is to help my barber, my friend, and help preserve a bit of Tulsa history. You like history, don'cha? So here is my pitch.

Jim Blue is the owner, barber, accountant, and floor sweeper of one of the, if not the only, last of the true barber shops around. He has been cuttin' cats hair there since 1959. He usta cut Charlie Daniels pompadour when he played with the Jaguars and lived in Tulsa. There are two barber chairs that Tulsans have planted there butts in for 51 years. There is a long wood bench where all the fellas set while their waitin' to get there hair cut. I wish I had a dime for every lie that has been swapped on that big hunk of wood. The original Coke machine is so old you have to put a dime in the slot and 65 cents in the little Dixie cup that sits on top, then pull a glass 8oz bottle out of this hole that's the size of a baseball in the lid. I wish I had a dime for every dime that's been poked in that machine. The joint is also air conditioned! I wouldn't lie to you. It says it right in the big front window, with letters that have snow on'um. And here is the kicker, 10 bucks for a hair cut. 10 measly smackers. Hell, Stupid Cuts charges more than that and they suck. Tracy said that I like to go there because it's like Mayberry, and mayberry she's right.

But friends, times are tough for us all right now, and Mr. Blue is know exception. Some jackasses stole his 7ft barber pole and not everybody put 65 cents in the cup. Most men now-a-days get there hair cut in a salon by a fat chick with black lip stick, bright pink hair, and a bad attitude or some dude with a lisp name Sweet Peeair and a bad attitude. Think about it, do real men go to a salon? Maybe real men in France, la-te-da. But not me brother, I got to a barber shop, just like my dad.

Trust me here friends, I promise you that Jim Blue will give you the best hair cut you have ever had (and at the best price) If you don't agree, I will pay for your hair cut myself. So, step back to a simpler time, drink you a Coke (put 65 cents in the cup, please), swap lies with the fellas, and help preserve a bit of history here in Tulsa. Let Jim Blue cut your hair, you'll be glad you did.

Jim Blues Barber Shop is at 943 S. Pittsburgh. That is half way between Harvard and Yale on 11th St, right behind the sewing machine repair shop. That's on the corner of 11th and Pittsburgh, across the street from the Big Time Pawn Shop. Turn north at the stop light on Pittsburgh. Here is a map to the joint that I personally downloaded on the back of my cut-off notice from the electric company. So don't tell me you couldn't find it. And don't forget to tip, you cheep bastards.
This ain't no Geico comercial.

Adios,

~e~

Letter #3

2010-05-03T00:39:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

Well, here is letter #3 to Youtube. Dig this.

Dear Youtube,

--I'm back for the third time to inform you that my 'Bangkok' video has not been put back. I have received no word from you about when it will be in operating condition again or what was wrong with the video in the first place. I believe I have been very patient concerning this matter, but you f**kers are starting to piss me off. So, put my g*d d**ned video back, you sons a b**thes, put it back! Pretty please with sugar on top, you scum sucking, piss drinking, dog f**king, short d**ked, s**t eating, buckets of monkey c*m, put it back!! I am about through being polite for f**ks sake. Christ almighty, just do what the hell I tell you to do. PUT IT BACK!!!

Sincerely,
ep13

Except I didn't have any stars on the e-mail I sent. Those jackasses are gettin' on my last nerve.

Watch this.

Adios,
~e~

Jeff Brewer, Cool Rockets, and One Simple Act of Kindness

2010-04-28T14:48:00.000-07:00

------------------------------Little Ethel Merman

Hello Friends,

You know, Tracy has had a tough time lately. She lost her mother a couple of years ago, her fathers fighting with cancer, and all the problems that go along with living with me. Not to mention the day to day crap that we all have to deal with. But you know, it's funny how one simple act of kindness can make all off that disappear for while.

Our house is decorated kinda contemporary (I think it's contemporary, but I'm not to hip on interior decorating lingo) Anyway, our house is decorated with rockets and robots. A couple of weeks ago Tracy and I just got home from somewhere when she noticed that Little Ethel Merman (who, by the way, is a boy pussycat) was acting guilty. So she went looking around the house. She stopped looking when she got to the dining room. What she found was that LEM had jumped off the kitchen table and knocked some shelves off the wall. She also found her three 'Cool Rockets' I had bought her, smashed to smithereens on the floor. She tried to glue them back together...she glued them back together...they were doomed. I was never sure if she really liked the 'Cool Rockets' cause Tracy is a NASA girl, the Saturn V , Redstone, and SR-71 are her cup-o-tea. 'Cool Rockets' are more like 1950's sci-fi, comic book rockets. After her seeing them all mashed, I could tell that she really liked them. She was very upset.

'Cool Rockets' are the creations of a cat named Jeff Brewer. Besides being an artist extraordinaire, Jeff works as a model maker for the film and commerical television industry. His film credits include, Nightmare Before Christmas - Men in Black - James and The Giant Peach - Starship Troopers - Star Trek VIII-First Contact - Star Wars Episode I - Pearl Harbor, and so on and so forth.

So, a few days after the big crash of 2010, I ordered her a new rocket from his website. I wrote the story about how I found out she liked the rockets in a comment box strategically placed on the site. And guess what? I get an e-mail from Jeff Brewer himself. He gave his condolence's, said he was a dog person, and that he would mail her rocket that day. How cool was that? Mr. bigity big shot Hollywood model man sent me a personal e-mail. Pretty cool I think.

Now, a couple of days ago Tracy calls me from her office and tells me that she got rockets in the mail (that's where I had it sent) and that she loves them both. Both? I only ordered one rocket, see it seems that Jeff sent her a rocket to go with the one I ordered. Why? I guess because Jeff Brewer is one bad ass dude, that's why. Now, I didn't tell Tracy that cause I wanted it to look like I bought her two, cause two rockets are always better than one rocket....Kidding, kidding, I'm pullin' your leg. I told her all about the e-mail and Jeff's response. She is very happy.

Let me ask you friends, who does that? Jeff sent her an $80.00 dollar rocket for nothin'. Out of the goodness of his Hollywood heart. Who does that kind of thing? Nobody that's who. Except for Jeff Brewer......and Tracy. Remember the story I wrote about the little African kid and the clothes she bought for him or her donating two turkeys instead of one at Thanksgiving, or buying all those cleaning supplies for the homeless family that got a home, or scrounging up a VCR for the DHS kids who had a bunch of old tapes donated to them, or giving the homeless guy ten bucks instead of one dollar, or a million other stories about her I could tell? Charity stories, damn it, charity stories (I tell the other stories too, but this ain't the time or the place)

I have always said that I don't believe that what goes around, comes around, but Jeff Brewer has proven me wrong with one simple act of kindness.

So, go to his web site and buy somethin', or at least go look around, then buy somethin'. There are some pretty cool rockets there. And while your lookin' around, remember what a swingin' cat Jeff Brewer is and the very nice thing he did for my gal.

Thanks, Jeff. Thanks for more than you know.

http://www.coolrockets.com

Here is some rocket junk.

Adios
~e~

PS The three rockets pictured above are like the one's Little Ethel Merman busted. And I'm pretty sure Jeff has records of the stuff people have bought from the 'Cool Rockets' website, so don't any of you jackasses go writin' him letters about how your pet spider monkey chewed the fin of your 'Space Tub' and you want a free one, for Christs sake. He won't fall for it. Trust me, he won't.

Velvet Revolver vs American Idol

2010-04-26T14:03:00.000-07:00

------------------------------ Velvet Revolver

Hello friends,

Along time ago, in another life, this chick I knew was making me watch American Idol. Now, those of you who know me, know how I feel about American Idol, but she wanted me to see something that would change my mind. Bo Bice. Bo Bice? Well, I watched Bo Bice and thought I was gonna puke. I looked at her and was completely amazed that she was so incredibly stupid to think I would like that shit. Fla-ber-gass-ted. That's what I was. Bo Bice. "He rocks!" she said. "He sucks!" I shot back. Well, later that evening, this was on Leno.

What perfect timing. Now, it's not that I'm a huge Velvet Revolver fan, but everything about this clip bleeds rock and roll. From Scott dancing around to Slash hopping around in circles. But when Slash put his foot up on the monitor, I looked at her and said "Are you watching this? That's rock and roll. Can't you see the difference between that and Bo Bice? Don't you get it?" She didn't get it....and later that evening, neither did I.

Adios,

~e~

Tim Toone

2010-04-24T18:13:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

Well, the NFL draft is over...finally. And I could really careless who is first round, but the last pick is somethin' different. This year, the 255th over all pick, by Detroit, was Weber States (I didn't know there was a state named Weber. Pronounced Weee-bur) 5'10" 185lb wide receiver Timmy Toone. Now listen neighbors, I really like this guy (ha ha, not that way) I don't know if he can make it in the NFL or not but I sure hope he does for the simple fact that he is a fast white guy with dread locks. I'm not quite sure why I like that but I'm not quite sure why I like a lot of the things I like. I like his attitude too. When asked about being the first Wee-bur State receiver to go over 3000 yards he said "...It just shows the accomplishment of our team...It just means we have (a) great line, great quarterback. You know, their out there doing their job..." There isn't enough of that kinda of attitude any more. Remember Barry Sanders? In college a reporter said to Barry "If you keep going like you are, you will be the greatest running back in the history of college football." Barry replied "Maybe we just have the greatest offensive line in the history of college football." (He played for the Detroit Lions also) And as for being the last picked, remember Thurman Thomas? He was thought to be a first round pick. ESPN had a live crew at his house to film the monument us occasion. Well, the first round came and went and Thurman fell asleep on TV. He was finally picked 40th in the second round. Thurman made a vow to make every team that passed him up sorry. I think he did. So, good luck Timmy, giv'um hell and make'um sorry, brother. I'm sure there all pullin' for you in the great state of Weber. (Where ever in the hell that is)

Heeeeere's Timmy!

and Thurman

and Barry

Adios,
~e~

Ps Barry Sanders and Thurman Thomas both went to college at Oklahoma State University. (I know where the great state of Oklahoma is, but I still can't find Wee-bur)

Brian Parton and the Nashville Rebels

2010-04-22T16:24:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

Every time I get on a tangent about something (like my fight with Youetube) something will come along to make me realize how non-important it is. You see, I heard today that my friend Brian Partons sister, Lisa, past away. I haven't seen Brian in a while and I have been thinking a lot about him today. You know, if you never got to see the Nashville Rebels play you sure missed out. Their live shows always delivered. Brian is a great showman, a great singer, a great song writer, and a great guitar player. Dave 'Skin Tight' White is Tulsa's premier bass player, and Billy Earl 'Bad Ass' Padgett is the most entertaining drummer around. Together those two make the best rhythm section you have ever heard. The Rebels, in my opinion, were one of the best bands Tulsa has ever put out. They are up there with the Shakers, Steve Pryor and the Mighty King Snakes, and the Jim Strader Quartet. And you would find Lisa at most of the Rebel gigs dancing like crazy. And believe me, Lisa had no problem letting you know how great her brother was. Sisters are great fans. My thoughts are with Brian. Hang in there you rockin' m-m-m-mutha.

This is the first tune I heard by Brian Parton and the Nashville Rebels. I heard it on the juke box at Caz's, and I was hooked.

Please Don't Touch

I love the lyrics in the song.
...Were goin' out for an evening
gonna do a little sleezin'
where they rock like fiends...

http://www.myspace.com/brianparton1

If you see Brian out playin' somewhere tell him Eddy says 'hey' and ask him to tell you the 'Sex Machine' story. It's a riot.

Adios
~e~

Sietuben

2010-04-22T15:59:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

Here is letter number two (2) to Youtube. I guess the first one (1) didn't get their attention.

Guter Tag,

Me again. Have you guys decided to put my video back yet? I wish you would just admit you were wrong and put it back where it was. Did you geniuses even watch my video? Tell me what parts were "offensive" so I will not make the same mistake in the future, because I don't know. I sure don't want to get another Community Strike, oh the shame! I bet if you tell me what parts that you consider "offensive" I can find ten (10) worse examples that are on Sietuben...sorry, I mean Youtube. I think you should browse around your site a bit. I'll help, check out 'hot ass' or 'big ass' or 'ass shakin' or 'butt shakin' or 'bubble butt' or 'bubble ass' or 'bubble ass butt' or 'double bubble ass butt', or' 'double bubble ass butt shakin' or just plain ol' ass butt'. Check it out and kick them all off, please. That should take about 3 months. When your done, I will give you some more. I will be your personal Storm trooper!

Alle Für Das Heimatland

Auf Wiedersehen
~e~

PS Could you let me know when my video is back up. Danke.

I always take things a bit to far.

Adios,
~e~

YouTube Nazis

2010-04-20T22:30:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

Do me a favor. Scroll down to the Alex Chilton story and click on the 3rd video 'Bangkok' for me. I'll wait....la ta de la ta da dooby dooby dooo...Ok, what did you see? I'll tell you what you saw, nothin', thats what. You see, I made that video, thank you very much, and Youtube yanked it from the site. This is what I saw when I tried lo log on to my Youtube account ~

ATTENTION
The following video(s) from your account have been disabled for violation of the YouTube Community Guidelines: •Bangkok - (ep13)
Most nudity is not allowed on YouTube, particularly if it is in a sexual context. Videos that are intended to be sexually provocative are also generally not acceptable for YouTube. There are exceptions for some educational, documentary and scientific content, but only if that is the sole purpose of the video and it is not sexually gratuitous.
Your account has received one Community Guidelines warning strike, which will expire in six months. Additional violations may result in the temporary disabling of your ability to post content to YouTube and/or the termination of your account.
Date Received: April 18, 2010

There was a little box at the bottom for me to click that said 'I acknowledge'. I didn't click it.

Here was my response to Youtube ~

Dear YouTube,

You bunch of SS wearing hypocrites. You jack boot my video for being offensive? Have you looked around your site, you bunch of blinder wearing Nazis. Hell, every clip I got for the video was off of YouTube, you idiots. Talk about offensive, how about that Prussian Blue 'Victory Day' music video or 'Anti American Animated Films on Iranian TV' or '9/11 CONSPIRACY: A CONTROLLED DEMOLITION DESTROYED THE WTC!!!' or 'White Noise - I Hate N...Mondays' or 'No Remorse - Deutschland'? And you gassed my Alex Chilton video for being offensive? Thank you for saving the world with your version of what is morale and what is not. Hitler tried to do the same thing.

"Videos that are intended to be sexually provocative are also generally not acceptable for YouTube. There are exceptions for some educational, documentary and scientific content, but only if that is the sole purpose of the video and it is not sexually gratuitous."

But it's OK to be a hate monger. What a joke!

"Your account has received one Community Guidelines warning strike..."

Oh no!!! Will that go on my permanent record along with skipping Mr. Tuckers math class in the 7th grade?

Stomp on the Constitution of the United States of America some more, Adolf.

Sieg Heil,
ep13

PS Does YouTube consider 'fuck you' to be offensive?

I guess that'll teachum' to mess with me, by God.

Here are a few clips that didn't get canned by Youtube. I'm not gonna show the racist videos. I won't give those pricks the honor of being on my site.

Adios,
~e~

The Most Greatest Story Ever Told

2010-04-12T00:34:00.000-07:00
Here is a hunk from my book 'Drowning In The Shallow End Of The Dream Pool'

Hello Friends,

Here it is, the most greatest story ever told. Now, this is not to be confused with 'The Greatest Story Ever Told', this is the 'most greatest' story ever told. See the difference? This doesn't have to do with passin' out a bunch of stinky fishes or zombies or nothin', this has to do with my mom and pop. So, with out further ado, her is 'The Most Greatest Story Ever Told'.

Once upon a time, many, many, many, years ago, when I was somewhere around 16 or 17, I was in the Gilcrease Museum gift shop with my mom and pop. We had already been through the museum and were about ready to leave. Mom was off some where, talking to some complete stranger about God knows what, and pop and I were just standin' around doin' nothin' but waitin' on mom. All of a sudden here is mom and she is holding this fancy Indian necklace. Mom showed it to pop and said "Isn't this beautiful?" and pop did his trade mark 'open his eyes wide and jerk his head' move and replied "Boy howdy!" Then mom toddles off to tell the clerk some story that she could careless about (Now you know where I get it from)

After a few minutes here comes mom and she asks if we are ready to go. Pop asked her if she bought that necklace and mom replied "No" then informed pop that it was 900 smack-a-roos. Pop said with out hesitation "Oh, you need the check book" and reaches into his front shirt pocket to retrieve it (He didn't say 'let me buy it for you' or 'would you like to have it' He thought she didn't get it because she didn't have the check book) Mom said "On no, I don't want it" And we left.

Now, I am floored. I couldn't imagine that some one could just be throwin' around 900 bucks like that. He must be a some kinda millionaire or somethin', I thought. So I'm thinkin' if 900 dollarenies is nothin' to pop, maybe he will just give it to me. We left mom at the entrance of the joint while we went to get the car. Time to put my plan into action, I said "You know, since mom doesn't want that necklace, can I have the 900 donuts, pop....I mean...father? All I got was a non emotional, matter of fact, "No". Heck, he wasn't even lookin' at me, he was rubberneckin' around lookin' for the stupid car. As we pulled the Chrysler New Yorker around to pick up mom he tells me this story...not in the stupid way I'm tellin' y'all, but in his 'just the facts, get to the point' way of his. Pops way may be better, but he ain't here. Here is the story in the story.

Once upon a time, many, many, many, many, many, years ago, about 1949, lived a young couple named George and Betty. Now, George was fresh outta the Army Air Corp and WWII and Betty was fresh outta High school. George was from the country. He grew up during the depression in the oil fields some where between Olive and Oilton, Ok. And when I say country I mean if he wanted a glass of water, he didn't get it from some gadget squirtin' cold water and crushed ice that was built into the refrigerator door. He had to get a glass and go outside and pump water out of the bowles of the earth. Betty was from the city, Drumrite. She also grew up during the depression, but being from the big city, she had running water in her house. They now lived in an apartment on 6th and Rockford in Tulsa. Of course those two kids were married, because people didn't live together back then with out bein' hitched, cause if they did they would go to hell and they didn't want that. They had no car and no money. Not to mention, no big flat screen TV, microwave, computer, ipod, Sham Wow's, George Forman grill, or cell phones. If you wanted to call some one, not only did you have to actually know the number, but you had to physically dial it on a wheel with a bunch of holes in it. Ziiiip tick tick tick tick tick, ziiiip tick tick tick tick tick, ziiiip tick tick tick tick tick. It musta been a living hell back then.

Times were tough for those two. They rode the bus to and from work. Betty had just started working for the phone company and George worked at Retail Credit. They could barely make ends meet. One time after paying their bills, all that was left was one (1) dime. That's it, one stinking dime. This was all they had for the rest of the week. One stupid dime. Betty put the dime in the desk drawer. To make things worse, all they had to eat was a big bowl of macaroni salad. So for the next four days those two kids got up in the morning, ate a couple of spoonfuls of macaroni salad, walked to work, worked all day, walked home, ate a couple more spoonfuls, and went to bed. Friday, or better 'payday' finally came. They got up, ate a couple of spoonfuls, got ready to leave and opened the door to a rain storm. George went to the desk drawer and grabbed the dime. He told Betty to take the bus to work and on his lunch break he would run (literally) to the bank and cash his check so they could stop at the grocery store on their way home and get some food. Betty looked at George and said (This is great) "If your walking in the rain, I'm walking in the rain." And that's what they did friends, they walked to work in the rain...together. As they walked, George desided that he would go to college on the G.I. bill so he could a job that paid enough so this wouldn't happen again. And as he looked at his rain soaked bride, he made a silent promise to himself. He promised that when he got out of school and got that better paying job that he would never say 'no' to her. George did get out of school and become a engineer. He has designed, engineered, and built things, from skyscrapers to rockets. He is retired now, but still keeps his professional engineers license, number 5949, up to date. George and Betty have been married for over 63 years, and to this day he is still keeping his promise. And Betty, well she retired from the phone company and is still tellin' complete strangers the most interesting stories. She has never had to walk in the rain again.

I had never heard this story before that day. Mom filled in the blanks for me later but she never knew about the promise pop had made. But that's my father. It makes me wonder how many young brides today would walk in the rain. But that's my mother.

But on a sad note, pop didn't make any kind of promise to never say 'no' to his future son. He has no problem saying 'no' to me. Probably cause he knows I would have taken the stupid dime and got on the stupid bus.

And something else, mom, has never, and I mean never ever made macaroni salad again. Cross my heart.

Now, you tell me, is that not the most greatest story ever told?

Here are a few of the things pop was invoved with. Also, he was head engineer during the construction of the ONEOK building (the house that George built) at the top of the page. A million miles away from Retail Credit, city buses, and that little apartment on 6th and Rockford.

This is the kind of music that filled our house when I was growing up. There was always music playing in our house.

Adios,
~e~

My Stuff

2010-04-03T23:19:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

My buddy and his girlfriend (or should I say X girlfriend) that I have been stayin' with over on the west side are splittin' the sheets. Well, not exactly 'splittin', more like steelin' each others stuff. As a matter of fact they have been so busy steelin' each others stuff that they forgot to watch their stuff, so now they each have the other ones stuff and none of their own stuff. She has his multi meter and he has her make-up. He has her TV and she has his car (which she stole last night cause she totaled hers trying to follow him on the highway) She destroyed the safe that he had borrowed from me (that means it was my safe) And in the proses I have lost my Sony flat screen monitor, 32' flat screen TV, Walter P-380 pistol, surveillance camera, my watch, and a box of checks. Fortunately, I still have my Kimber 1911 Ultra Carry II, which I'm gonna show some one real soon if I don't get my shit back. Remember what Ronnie Van Zant of Lynyrd Skynyrd said? "I'm tellin' you son. That it ain't no fun, starin' straight down a .44" Well, I don't have a .44 I have a .45 and some west side crack head is gonna wind up on the business end it soon enough. Tweekin', mullet wearin', toothless, inbreed, Dale Earnhardt lovin', Metallica lisnin', high school dropin' out, bunch of worthless fucks. I WANT MY STUFF BACK!!!

You know what job I want? I want to be a 12th grade teacher on the west side. How sweet would that be? Hell, the parents over there are proud if there kids make it through 10th grade with out ODin' or being arrested. Stupid, non tooth brushin', Jiffy Lube workin', welfare gittin', 5 kid havin', junky car drivin', no insurance havin', bags of monkey shit.

Kimber Ultra Carry II

This is how I feel.

Adios,

~e~

Johnny Blitz and The Dead Boys

2010-03-25T11:54:00.000-07:00
___________________The Dead Boys
Clockwise from top left corner is Johnny Blitz, Stiv Bators, Cheetah Chrome, Jimmy Zero, and Jeff Magnum.

Hello friends,

I just came across this old video of the Dead Boys doin' a song called 'Ain't it Fun'. The cat that put the video on You Tubes name is Johnny Blitz77. Now, everybody knows that Johnny Blitz was the drummer for the Dead Boys, that goes with out saying, but I don't know if it is the same Johnny Blitz. I'm gonna pretend that it is the real Johnny Blitz, and that were friends and he is always askin' me for advice on things and that I'm always bummin' dope from him. Who ever it is tho, put a bushel of DB songs on there. Right on and keep it up.

Now back in 1912, Me, Dave 'Church-well' Churchwell (drums), Kirk 'Mr. Fit' Rankin (guitar), and Ruff Ruff That's Not Original (bass...kinda) played in what is probably the greatest, and at the same time, the worst band in Tulsa, 'The Vivisectionists' We usta play 'Ain't it Fun' to the enjoyment and entertainment of literally tens of people. I hadn't heard it in years. Man, all the memories it brought back, that hot summer, laughing non stop, Bongo Sillys, any who, a bonanza of pennies, laughing until I cried, being young and indestructible, punk rock, Kirk being M.I.A., writing 'The Vivisectionists Suck' in big letters on the Dance Cafe bathroom wall, more laughing, the Ramones, and being naive enough to believe that dreams can come true. I still love this song. Man, life was a blast back then.....I think.

Here are Stiv, Cheetah, Johnny, Jimmy, and Jeff...The Dead Boys and 'Ain't It Fun'

Ain't it fun when you're always on the run
Ain't it fun when your friends despise what you've become
Ain't it fun when you get so high that you, well you just can't cum
Ain't it fun when you know that you're gonna die young
It's such fun... such fun

Ain't it fun when you're taking care of number one
Ain't it fun when you feel like you just gotta get a gun
Ain't it fun when you j.j.j. just can't seem to find your tongue
Cause you stuck it to deep into something that really stung
It's such fun

Well somebody come up to me they spit right in my face
But I didn't even feel it, it was such a disgrace
I punched my fist right through the glass
But I didn't even feel it, it all happened so fast
It's such fun, such fun, such...

Ain't it fun when you tell her she's just a cunt
Ain't it fun when she splits and leaves you the bum
Ain't it fun when you've broken up every band that you've ever begun
Ain't it fun when you know that you're gonna die young
It's such fun, such fun, such...
Having a real fun time, such fun, such fun
No Fun

We also did the second song on this clip 'Ain't Nothin' To Do'. 'Son Of Sam' is the first tune. Great song.

Here is Cheetah Chrome of the Dead Boys(one of my guitar heros, and I don't mean that stupid game) now-a-days doin' a Gibson Guitar commercial. This maybe the best commercial of all time....well....except for that "Wheres the beef?" one, of course.

Well, I gotta head over to Johns house now, I guess he's got some problem that he needs my help with.

Adios,
~e~

PS ~ That old blue haired bat still cracks me up.

Dave Raun

2010-03-20T13:37:00.000-07:00
---------------------------------Dave Raun

Hello friends,

THIS SUCKS!!! It is March 20th, in the year of our land lord, 2010, and it is snowing to beat the band. Yesterday was sunny and 73 degrees. I was wearing shorts and a mesh tank top...kidding...kidding, Tracy threw all of my mesh tank tops away last summer. I was wearing my black Cain's Ballroom XXL. Anyway, point is, this snowing crap is the pits. I hate it. I need to live where the palm trees grow wild and the bikini's run free...or the palm trees grow free and the bikini's run wild. Which ever, that's where I need to be. I am gonna channel all of my brain power and think this snow storm outta here, by God.

If you smell rubber burning, don't be alarmed, it's just my head.

I know she ain't runnin', but she will be once she gets a load a me...until Tracy catches her chasing me, then she's dead meat. CAT FIGHT!

Me First and the Gimme Gimmes are one of my fav-O-rite bands, and not only is Dave Raun one of me fav-O-rite drummers, he is one of the best drummers out there. One of the best baby, the best! If you need to, write his name down, cause their's gonna be a test. Dave also plays with 'Lagwagon'. Joey Capp (the guitar player with the dark hair in the Me First and the Gimme Gimmes videos) sings for Lagwagon, ta boot.
This should melt all the snow away.

Summertime

Who Put The Bomp

Sorry about the sound on this , but you'll understand what I've been talkin' about after watchin' this little slice of heaven

Adios,
~e~

Alex Chilton

2010-03-19T20:06:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

Alex Chilton, the singer of The Box Tops (they had a No. 1 hit with "The Letter") and later went on to influence a generation of musicians with his work in Big Star, died Wednesday in New Orleans. He was 59. Alex was a musicians musician. Those are the cats that don't make much money, but make the guys who copy them millions. Alex was a brilliant musician and song writer and will be missed...and friends, when I say brilliant, I don't mean 'real good' or 'he's sumthin' else' I mean brilliant...got it?

The Box Tops - The Letter

Big Star - In The Street

Alex Chilton - Bangkok

Adios,
~e~

Tommy Crook

2010-03-11T06:23:00.000-08:00
Hello friends,

This is the most stupidest thing I have ever seen.

Chet Atkins said that Tommy Crook was the best guitar player in the world (but what does Chet know anyways) Now neighbors, let me tell you somethin', don't be fooled by this. I have been playing guitar for a long long time, and what your seein' here can't be done. They musta used some kinda camera trickery with mirrors or somethin' cause I'm tellin' you it can't be done...it just can't!

Adios,
~e~

'Quik Trip' Is The New Donut Shop

2010-03-07T02:25:00.000-08:00

Hello friends,

I am sick of all this laying off cops in Tulsa and then givin' them their stupid jobs back. Every body acts like the crime rate will triple if we cut the police fat a bit. Well, maybe we do have to many cops, didja ever think of that? Maybe they were gonna let the ones go who are always hanging out in the 'Quik Trips' givin' me the ol' stink eye when I walk in at night. Maybe they were gonna get rid of the jack ass who acted like I was waisting his time when I got my tail gate stolen (which they never found I might add) Maybe they were gonna lay of the prick that threatened to throw me I jail just because I questioned why a 'public intoxication' ticket goes on your driving record, even tho my car was in the next county. Hell, I wasn't even drunk. I was given the choice to take what was behind door number one (public intox ticket = 50 bucks) or the box Carol Merrel was holding (go to jail for lude misconduct) You see, deputy Monte Hall caught me taking a whiz behind the Stables Lounge. He also caught Greg Thompson, but that dudes a fireman, so what does he Greg get Johnny? Well deputy Monte Hall, Greg gets (drum roll) a...brand...new...nothin'! I took door number one and the ticket. Maybe they were gonna can that deal makin' piece of crap.

I have had my guns stolen, my car stereo ripped, my tools pinched, my house burgled, my tail gate lifted, etc, etc, etc. And the only thing I ever got from the cops was a handful of tickets and a few lumps on my noodle. And I'm sure if any one of Tulsa's finest get a hold of this little note, I will get pulled over for an improper lane change and they will find 4 pounds of heroin, a couple of boxes full of child pornography, and a dead body in my trunk. The report will say that I resisted (of course) so it should be no surprise that I'll get my ass tazed, maced, and billy clubbed with in an inch of my life. You can bet that my celly will be the biggest, meanest, homosexual in the jail, and that no one will have heard nothin' while I braided my roll of toilet paper into a rope and proceeded to hang myself from the top bunk. It's been nice knowin' y'all.

I'm sure it will look sometin' like this.

Guess where I'm goin'

Check this out.

Adios,
~e~

NEWS FLASH

2010-02-27T05:05:00.000-08:00
BREAKING NEWS!!!

The bosses at the Arrvest Bank thought it would be in their best intrest to NOT let me talk to Mr. Biggity Big Shot. They cleared the check before I could ask him about Rory. Cowards. It's a shame really. We might have became friends. Who knows? He might invite me to have brunch and play a round of golf with him at Southeren Hills. And I, in return, would see if he would like to do some dope and bang a hooker over on the West side.

Adios,
~e~

Eddy and Arrvest Bank Throw Down!

2010-02-26T09:59:00.000-08:00

Hello friends,

The gloves are of and anything goes. You see, I deposited a check from and investment company last Tuesday. On Wednesday I called the bank to get my balance to make sure that their numbers jived with mine. Low and behold, I'm over drawn. What?!?! It seems that my wonderful bank put a hold on the check until March 4th, (The deposit was on February 24th) but they didn't tell me. They have never held a check of mine before with out letting me know about it. Now, not getting any satisfaction from the gal I was talking to, I asked to talk to her boss. The nice lady told me that her boss would tell me the same thing...which he did. So, I asked to talk to his boss, who was conveniently out of the office. Soooo, I called back this morning. The boss was busy, I was told. Sooooooo, I asked to talk to the bosses boss. That dude says "But that is the regional president". "Perfect!" I said "That sounds like a cat who can get things done!" I told him. He puts me on hold for a while then tells me that his secretaries line is busy. Busy??? "I'll hold" I told him. Now I'm on hold for about 5 minutes when that fella comes back on and asked me what my phone number was so that they could have him (Mr. Bigshot) call me back.

I'm still waiting. I figure that eventually somebody won't want my dumb ass to talk to their boss and they will release my damn check. We'll see.

If I do get to talk to the 'regional president', I think I'm gonna ask him if he digs Rory Gallagher...which he will...cause...well...doesn't everybody?

Arrvest come out to play-yay!

Adios,
~e~

The I.R.S Stormtroopers

2010-02-19T13:17:00.000-08:00
Stand by for a word from the head of the Internal Revenue Service
You must pay your estimated taxes quarterly but not in equal quarters, the first quarter will only be 2 months, which doesn't really make it a quarter, but we will call it a quarter even tho it's not. Don't screw this up or you will pay for it for the rest of your life.

Hello Friends,

Just a note about A. Joseph Stack III. He's the half-wit that flew a Piper PA-28 (that's a teeny tiny little four seat plane) into the IRS building in Austin, TX. I guess that Joe wrote some long drawn out manifesto to explain why he was doing this and how he hated the I.R.S. You know, it seems that no one really noticed Joe when he was alive, so why would he think we would listen to him after he joined the choir invisible? I can sum up his rambling rant in three words for y'all. I'll make it real simple. Ready? He's an ijit! There you go, easy as you please.

Joe wrote 'the only thing that matters is a body count', or something along those lines. Well, Joe got a whopping two bodies to count...if you count his stupid mangled corpse, that is. It seems he is a big a screw up in death as he was in life. Let me break it down for you, you see, a Boeing 767 (like the one that hit tower one) holds about 30,000 gallons of fuel...give or take. A Piper PA-28 holds roughly 50 gallons. Now, I am not a smart man but even my little pea brain can do the math here. Also, the plane that hit tower one was going about 500 mph. A PA-28 does about 148 mph. It's a good thing that Stack wasn't smart enough to pick a better way to get a 'body count'. It sucks the he killed a guy. I don't know who he was, but he was probably just some poor sap who was just tiring to get by like the rest of us. You accomplished nothing Joe, you moron. Well....I guess you did do one thing good, now the world is less one stupid person, and I don't mean the other guy.

Now, as far as the I.R.S. is concerned...well...to put it bluntly... they're a bunch of Nazis. If you have ever had them on your ass, your in trouble man. Butchers! I understand how Joe Stack felt cause I've been there. Those f**kers will beat you and beat you and beat down and wont let you up. It doesn't matter how bad you want to fix the situation, they give you no options except getting deeper in the hole. It is the worst feeling in the world when there seems to be no way out. You can't sleep at night. It makes you sick to your stomach. You are constantly being crushed by the weight of helplessness and despair, but flying a Piper into the I.R.S. office is not the answer. I don't know what the answer is, but it ain't that. That much I do know.

Adios,
~e~

Arthur Fonzarelli, Johnny Weir, and the Gay Ducks

2010-02-18T11:34:00.000-08:00

Hello friends,

I am sick to death of all this politically correct crap. See, I guess these two Australian sports commentators made a crack about men's figure skating, "They don't leave anything in the locker room, these blokes, do they?" Then the other dude said "They don't leave anything in the closet, either, do they?"

What's so bad about that? It's even kinda funny. They didn't say "Let's go string one up!" or "They're all gonna go strait to hell!" or "Those sick fruities should be boiled in liquid whip-its." did they? Every body needs to lighten up for Christs sake. I put grease on my hair and have big side burns. You don't think I haven't heard my fair share of Elvis, Fonzie, and truck driver jokes. I don't care, cause I kinda look like that.

Then, after all the complaining and bitching from all the 'offended' folks, those guys apologized. The first one said "I made a joke that was a bit off-color. Some of the crew here didn't like it either. I suggested that there was a disaster happening at the ice skating rink because organizers had found out one of the male ice dancers wasn't gay. I apologize for that really sincerely." Then the other cat said "But it definitely wasn't this guy" then cutting to a shot of champion American figure skater Johnny Weir in a pink and black outfit that resembled a corset. That's pretty funny, I think.

Just because it walks like a gay duck and talks like a gay duck and dresses like a gay duck and acts like a gay duck, doesn't necessarily mean it's a gay duck. But it shouldn't be surprised if some of the other barn yard animals call it a homo.

or...

Just because it walks like fat, 70's, jumpsuit Elvis and talks like a hillbilly and dresses like Jerry Reed in that Smokey and the Bandit movie, doesn't mean it's a over weight, screwed up, idiot. But it shouldn't be surprised if some of the other barn yard animals call it Eddy.

Now I've gone and done it. Not only have I offended the 'gay' community but I've offended the 'me' community ta boot. I hate when I have to boycott and picket myself. Well, I better gitta making me a sign. DOWN WITH FAKE FONZARELLI!!!

I'm gonna do a little braggin' here but I would say that I own the best collection of truck drivin' records it this here state. I know your all jealous of that, and I'm sorry for rubbin' it in, but it's true.

Here are two of my fav-O-rites.
Double clutchin' weasel. I LOVE that line!

Adios,
~e~

'Drowning In The Shallow End Of The Dream Pool' Part 1

2010-02-10T13:46:00.000-08:00

Hello friends,

Well, here is a bit of the rough draft from the dumb ol' book I'm
writin' 'Drowning In The Shallow End Of The Dream Pool'.

*********************************************************************

So here I am, standing at the crossroads of my life...well, actually I'm standing in front of the Cricket phone payment center, waiting for it to open. Some how my unlimited calls for $49.00 has turned into unlimited calls for 230 smackers. I'm not sure how this is gonna pan out, but you can bet your bottom dollar I will end up on the short end of the stick by the time this fiasco is over with. You know, I got a cricket phone cause 1) it was unlimited calls, text, and long distance for one set price, and 2) cause the Cricket joint was right by my house, and it would have taken a little effort to go some where else. At that time I didn't realize that a persons social status could be based on their cell phone provider, but apparently it can. I couldn't understand why, until after I got a gander at the freak show waiting to get in to that place (I always pay my bill by phone so I don't get to hang out here much) It appears that theory has got some merit slapped on it. Christ, am I one of them? I feel like a cross between Albert Einstein and Brad Pitt in that group of side show oddities. And friends let me tell you, I'm not smart or good lookin'. So now, this has got me to thinkin' (Were back to the crossroads thing now. Try and keep up, please) I am at the lowest level, of the bottom level, of my life levels. No job, my relationship is on the skids, I'm broke, my truck is worn out, I am over weight, and on and on and so forth. So, I am giving myself one year to get my life back in order. This book will be my journal for the next 12 months, to see if I can turn things around. The way I see it, I don't have much choice. So friends, I'm givin' you a ticket to witness, first hand, my flight over the rainbow and ascend in to the heavens or to watch a crappy ol' farm house mash me into the ground while a bunch of midgets dance the merengue. Let's all see how this whole mess I have created is gonna turn out, shall we?
(This is kinda like watching Evil Knievel jump over a bunch of buses or somethin'. You know he has a chance to make it, but in back of your mind you know he will probably wind up rupturing his spline and telescoping his stupid spine)

Oh, by the way, the Cricket people made a mistake on my phone bill and I didn't owe the 230 bucks after all. Things are lookin' up already!

*********************************************************************

Here is a little song for y'all.

Adios,
~e~

9/11 Conspiracy Questions

2010-02-05T14:52:00.000-08:00

Hello friends,

I watched this show the other day about how the United States government was responsible for the terror attacks on 9/11. I watched some snot nosed kid, who made some crappy You Tube movie, and a few other crack pots go back and forth with a professor from M.I.T. and the head of engineering at Purdue University. Now, since I'm not so smart as y'all, I have a couple of question I wish some one would clear up for me.

1) These bone heads, who call them selves 'truthers' (is that grammatically correct?) say that a plane wasn't flown in to the Pentagon, rather that it was hit with a cruise missile. Now my question is, how and where did the government murder all the passengers and crew of flight 77? And how did they stuff the bodies into the building after the explosion or did they covertly plant them in there before it blew up? I think some one would have noticed a truck load of corpses being delivered, don't you?

2) The truthers claim that the planes that hit the twin towers were remote control and the buildings were brought down by a 'controlled demolition'. Wouldn't it have been easier to leave the planes out of the equation and just say that Mohammad Atta put a bomb in the janitors closet or down in the pump room?

3) And as far as the 'controlled demolition' is concerned, they say the reason there were no detonators found was because the government used some secrete explosive device that nobody knows about. Well....I hate to look stupider, but how the hell do they know about it if nobody knows about it?

4) They say that Flight 93 was faked. I guess they murdered those guys at the same place as the cats from Flight 77, but what I don't get is, why fake a crash in a field? Why wouldn't you crash it in to something important also?

5) Here is a good one, aren't fellas from M.I.T. and Purdue more smarter than a gaggle of blithering idiots?

6) And lastly, how is it that all the people involved in this thing can keep there fat traps shut? I don't know one person that can keep a secrete, much less hundreds.

Well friends, I hope someone out there can help me out with this.

You know, I think that some people are afraid to think that something as horrific as the actions that occurred on 9/11 could be as simple as some asshole flying a plane into a building. They don't want to believe it could be that easy. Because, if it is that easy, then whats gonna happen tomorrow?

Here is a song about flying on plane.

Adios,
~e~

Activia, Nutrisystem, and the Snake

2010-01-12T15:34:00.000-08:00
--------------------------Kenny 'the Snake' Stabler

Hello Friends,

My pop has a plethora of sayings, and two of them are ~
1) Ignorance runs ramped.
B) There are more stupid people than there are smart people. (You may fall in to this category, so pay attention )

For example, if you don't know what a word or phrase means, then ask some one or look it up. Just because Activia yogurt has 'Bifidus Regularis' doesn't mean it's good for you. Hell, for all you know, Bifidus Regularis, could be Latino for a bunch of mashed up worms or somethin'. Or that Nutrisystem uses the 'glisemic index'. What the hell is that? That sounds like something I was suppose to do on my senior term paper...but didn't.

Don't fall for the "It's real man food" B.S. If Danny boy Marino was a real man he would have won a Super Bowl. You wouldn't catch Kenny Stabler doing a Nutrisystem commercial...unless they start a cocaine and hooker program (Count me in, Snake!) Also, it looks like Lawrence Taylor is back on crack....it's sad.

If some diet plan, money makin' scheme, or fancy work out gizmo tells you that "It's easy!" or "You can eat what ever you want!" or "Good as new!" or "Make a million dollars for doing nothing!" or "Lose weight while watching TV!" or "Get your bachelors degree in physics in three weeks, on-line!" or "Works in seconds and holds up to 1000 pounds!" or "We can't do this all day!" or "I lost 127 bounds in 8 minutes!" or "And now, because I attended Shifties get rich seminar, I earn $15,000.00 every half hour!" or "It can't fail, it has 'Lowsiferius Bluclride Fossfate' added!" or "I got this rock hard stomach by eating lard and playing peaknuckle with the boys!" or "Don't accept imitations. These are real Diamells" or "Buy this, you idget!", if they say one of those, don't buy it.

Remember, just because they "double" the offer, doesn't mean it's a good deal. As a matter of fact, two pieces of crap are worse than one piece of crap.

New and improved? How the hell can it be 'new' AND 'improved'? And what were you selling me before, a sub par product?

Don't be stupid! If you think that the girls on those late night chat line commercials are the girls you'll be a chatin' with, then you are not gonna be much help with advancing the human race.

THINK! Question everything. If it sounds to good to be true......
The Snake

When Axl Rose told Kurt Cobain he was going to "take him to the pavement" back stage at the MTV Music Awards Show (Kurt was holding his new born daughter at the time) Lar's (the guitar player with the yellow shirt) said "What abut me, Hansel?". Axl bowed up and Lars knocked one of his (Axl's) front teeth out.
This is Rancid bangin' 'Time Bomb'

Hell's bells, that sounded so good I'm gonna play another.
Here is 'Salvation'
"Cool baby, won't you show me what you got, yeah?"

Adios,
~e~

Next time your having a boys night out and some smokin' hot dolly is hittin' on you and acts like everything you say is interesting, remember these words.....Check-A-Mate.

Trenton 'Dozer' Beaver

2010-01-08T16:20:00.000-08:00
Hello friends,

Well, today I was gonna write and tell y'all a bit about my book 'Drowning In The Shallow End Of The Dream Pool' and give y'all a couple of lines from it....but....let me back up a smidgen. Everything I write, I write in my e-mail. That way I can access it from any PC and if Squeaky Pete decided to crash and burn, I would still have it. So, today I go to my e-mail and I see that my friend Judi was asked to send out a prayer request from a old classmate, Joe Miller. This is what it said...

...Tenton "Dozer" Beaver....has been diagnosed with a rare form of brain cancer called glioblastoma multiforme that has only been diagnosed in just a dozen or so children. In early December, Trenton started experiencing seizures which sent him to St. Francis Hospital in Tulsa.....Dozer had brain surgery and the doctor gave the family the most devastating and horrible news that parent or grand parent could hear. Dozer had 3 malignant brain tumors, two were operable with no promises and the other one was too deep to get to without permanently destroying all motor skills on the left side of his body. The biopsy revealed a very aggressive, rare form of cancer with a harsh prognosis, they basically told them to take Dozer home and let him enjoy his Christmas because without a miracle this would most likely be his last.....Dozer could sure use any extra prayers anyone could spare to send up in his behalf. Thanks in advance for all your help.....a Care Page set up in Dozers name so if any one wants to read and follow his progress, please feel free to do so...Here is the link to his page.

https://www.carepages.com/carepages/TrentonBeaver

I went to this web site to check on Trenton 'Dozer' and this what I read...

...Trenton is back in the hospital and having a tough day.
Please pray for peace, rest, and strength for Dozer.

Makes my stupid book seem kinda insignificant. The next person I hear bitch about how crappy their Christmas was is gonna hear about Trenton and then get busted right in the teeth, I swear.

So, my friends, what ever you do to channel your powers, whether it's praying or chanting or dancing around the camp fire, get to doin' it. Even if you don't really believe in anything, just put some positive thoughts out there for Trenton and his family.

Here is a tune I post from time to time. It means the world to me on so many different levels. I hope you can dig it. This is for Dozer from me and all of my people.

Adios,
~e~

Tiger Woods vs. The Taliban

2009-12-31T10:38:00.000-08:00
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!!!

2009-12-27T03:58:00.000-08:00
-------------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

2009-11-26T09:35:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-24T17:12:00.000-08:00
_________________________*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

2009-11-17T09:38:00.000-08:00
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

2009-11-15T08:00:00.000-08:00
-------------------------------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

2009-11-14T18:47:00.000-08:00
------------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

2009-11-07T00:45:00.000-08:00
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

2009-10-31T18:41:00.000-07:00

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

2009-10-29T02:50:00.000-07:00

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

2009-10-23T06:14:00.000-07:00

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

2009-10-19T23:15:00.000-07:00

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

2009-10-18T09:23:00.000-07:00
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

2009-10-18T08:43:00.000-07:00

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

2009-10-11T08:33:00.000-07:00
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

2009-09-21T18:54:00.000-07:00

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

2009-09-13T19:31:00.000-07:00

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

2009-08-25T05:06:00.000-07:00
REMOVED

Wonderin'

2009-08-23T19:21:00.000-07:00
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

2009-08-18T02:24:00.000-07:00
---- 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

2009-08-17T20:18:00.000-07:00
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

2009-08-09T00:48:00.000-07:00
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

2009-08-06T12:27:00.000-07:00
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~

Cleanin' What I Spill't

2009-08-06T06:44:00.000-07:00
-------------------------------------------Beelzebub

Hello friends,

Well, now I went and done it. I was cleaning up something I spill't day before yesterday in the 'Man Cave' (my garage). It was something pretty dern corrosive and my dumb ass knocked it over on some particle board (that's where they take a bunch of little pieces of wood and mash'um all together into one big piece of wood) I was in a hurry so I grabbed a wad of paper towels and was doin' the ol' 'wax on wax off' like Mr. Miyagi on speed when I subsequently shoved a hunk of wood smack dab in the middle of my middle finger on my right hand. My flippin' off finger. Now, the splinter thing is not new to me, this kinda thing happens all the time. So, after I said a few choice words, I dropped the paper towels, and stated to find the splinter to dig it out. Then my hand burst into flames. And not regular flames, these were invisible inferno flames brought up from the depths of Hell by Beelzebub himself and spit on to my finger from his nasty old snuggled toothed mouth. I guess the splinter was coated with that crap I was cleaning up. Good lord friends, I thought I was gonna cry. This was not new to me. And what's worse is, I had to take a knife and slit my finger to get to the splinter that was covered in molten lava and was gushin' in to my veins. So there I was, whackin' and sawin' away at my middle digit with my left hand (I'm right handed), dancin' around in circles, tryin' to get that thing out for cryin' out loud. Well, I finally got it, but it looks like Jack the Ripper gave me a manicure. Now my finger is all swollen up, blue, and sore to beat the band. I'm not even gonna tell you what is comin' out the hole I hacked in my flipper offer. Well, I'll let you all know if my finger falls off. If it does, I'm gonna make a necklace out of it and give it to Tracy for Christmas. Let's see someone top that.

----------------------- My finger before the incident.

Here is a couple of songs about the devil.

Adios,
~e~

My Glamor Shot

2009-08-05T08:21:00.000-07:00
Hello friends,

I have had a couple of comments about the photograph at the top of the 'How Dumb Do I Look' story. First, I would like to thank some of you for answering that question and letting me know how dumb I actually look. Secondly, yes that is your humble story teller. The photo was taken about 5 years ago by my friends girlfriend at my old apartment. It was about 8:00 AM, one fall morning after I had just returned from a long, wonderful night
hi-jinx, shenanigans, and debauchery (note the bags under my eyes) She was there picking up something for my friend and trying to find out what I did that night. She is one of those nosy chicks that had to be in the middle of everything. It was killing her. I just wanted her to leave so I could go to bed. I love this photo for the fact that the Coca-Cola coffee mug has Coca-Cola soft drink in it was a pure accident. All my glasses were dirty so I used a cup. I didn't realize it was a Coke cup till I got the picture. Isn't that amazing?!?!?! As I was pouring my drink she kept prying, I walked to my bedroom door and lifted my cup as to say 'Adios' and she snapped this photo and I went to bed. I like the way Elvis is back ground, and I think I'm the only guy to ever wear a 'Ramones' T-shirt with a green Cardigan sweeter. And my hair, what a riot. This is what a pompadour looks like 12 hours, a few Bushmills, and a few other things I can't mention, later. It is a funny reminder to a great, great night. And man let me tell you, there ain't much that feels better than crawling in to a clean bed, after being up all night. Not much at all.

Well, Paul McCartney hasn't sent me any tickets yet. I would have thought that after he read my story on the high price of tickets he would have felt bad and sent me a couple, but nope. I know he had to have read it. My blogs are the 3rd most read in the U.S.A. and 8th most read on the other 9 continents. Well Sir Paul, I wouldn't take any tickets from you now even if you through that crappy old Hofner bass in to sweeten the deal. You can kiss my John Lennon lovin' ass.

----------------------------------------This is a Hofner bass
Here is what a Hofner bass sounds like. I won't mention the name of who is playin' it but it is 'beyond the moon' genius.

Adios,
~e~

How Dumb Do I Look?

2009-08-01T03:45:00.000-07:00
Hello friends,

Neighbors, let me ask you something. How dumb do I look? Well, I'm tellin' you it must be pretty darn dumb cause if they think I'm gonna fall for it they are crazy. You see, I got an e-mail from a "friend" yesterday. I opened it to find it was an invitation to a party. Great, I love parties. Now it seems that the party is for another old "friend" who I went to high school with. I guess he's ridin' a greyhound up from one of those really hot inferno states that are chalk full of cacti, snakes, and cracked earth (Sounds like heaven...no, wait a minute. That is not what it sounds like) The old "friends" name is James Kirsch. If that name sounds familiar, it should because I wrote a story a couple of stories back about a vision named Julie Kirsch. Now, the names being similar is no coincidence, James is Julie's younger brother (It's funny how that beauty gene hits some people right in the mush but will fly past others like a SR-71. Humm, doesn't seem fair, does it?) Anyway, I don't believe him coming in to town is a coincidence either. It's lookin' like I have besmirched the Kirsch family name with that whole 'face was right at boob level' statement. It looks like Jimi 'the Lime' Kirsch and his hired goon Suzy 'the Belding' Stewart are fixin' the wack me. It's a hit, friends. A good, old fashion, Machine Gun Jack McGurn, button pushin'. (Who do they think they are they, the Gambinos?)----------------------------------- Machine Gun Jack McGurn

I can see it now, I'm standin' on the front porch, my hair combed and parted on the side, my shirt tucked in to my navy blue Haggar double knit slacks, and a copy of the Frampton Comes Alive album in my hand (You should always bring a gift. It's just good manners) I look like it's picture day at MacArthur Elementary School. I can hear the music coming from the other side of the door. It sounds like they are really living it up in there. There is a note taped to the door bell that reads ~

----------------------------'JUST COME ON IN'

I strut through the door only to find the room empty. While thinking that I must be early, I hear the door close. I turn around and the last thing I remember is seeing Jimi 'the Lime' swingin' a sack of door knobs right at my ol' cabbage. And that's how I wind up in the gullet of a 7ft channel cat somewhere below the Keystone dam, damn it.
---------------------------------------The Keystone Dam
------------------------------------------7ft Catfish

But you see, I'm to smrt for them. I know it's a set up because I hardly ever never get invited to parties. And if I do I usually get beat up by someone. I remember the last time I went to a party, someone clubbed me from behind with a frozen ham and the next thing I know, I'm waking up on a city bus headed for 36th Street North and Lansing, buck naked with a pair of those funny glasses with the springy eye balls duct taped to my head. Oh no, I'm not gonna fall for that one three times.

So you have fun at your party Jimi 'the Lime'. You, and your torpedo Suzy 'the Belding'. But I just want you to know that while your not using ol' Eddy as a human pinata, ol' Eddy will be hiding someplace like big ol' girl, listening to 'You Make Me Feel Like Dancing' and thinkin' about dippin' and spinin' your sister from one end of the Pink Barn to the other. Just like I did in 7th grade.

Here is Peter Frampton before his solo thing in 1969. This is Humble Pie doing their complete 'Little Queenie' rip off 'Natural Born Boogie'.

Here is Jerry and Keith kickin' lil' Queenie.

I remember when I usta fly one of these babies a few years back...but I can't talk about it. It's top secrete.

Adios,
~e~

Bon Voyage

2009-07-29T22:58:00.000-07:00
Hello friends,

Here are a couple of ditties for a very special friend of mine. Sorry I can't go on vacation with you, buddy. Have fun.

You know, in some ways I feel I helped you pack your bags.

There are so many reasons I love the little devil doll.

Adios,
~e~

Dusty ol' Files

2009-07-29T19:00:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

Have you ever noticed how sometimes seeing something or hearing a certain sound or gettin' a whoof of a familiar smell will trigger somethin' that has been filed away on that hard drive encased in your skull? I mean something that you haven't thought about in years and years and years. Like the other day I heard the song 'Afternoon Delight' by the Starland Vocal Band. So there I am wondering how this crap ever made it on the radio, then it hit me like a sock full of nickles, Skateland, that big disco ball, the motor cycle 'jumpin the buses' arcade game, my Jim Cook 700's, and how I felt every time I saw Melodie Ashley skate by with that big Farrah Faucet hair-do (she broke my heart and made me cry) That stupid song some how extracted those memories from my not-so-recent file, dusted them off, and cracked them smack dab across my kisser. Well, today I was screwin' off when I was suppose to be workin' and I saw a 1963 Corvette split window coupe sailin' down the road. I thought what a cool car. Then, another file opened and I thought about Julie Kirsch (If I remember right she had a copper colored 63' Vette. James will have to help me out on that one) Once I thought about her I forgot all about the dumb ol' car. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Julie was 2 or 3 years older than me. I remember the first time I saw her was at Pink Barn when I was in 7th grade. Pink Barn was suppose to be a dance school (and I guess it was) but it was where you went to meet girls when you were 12 where I'm from. Julie was a instructor or a helper or somethin'. I'm not sure what she was doin' there, but what she was doin' there was not important, what was important was that she was there doin' what she was doin'. Now, today Julie wouldn't remember me or remember that we danced together. I don't know why we danced. I don't think it was because I was such a great dancer (But I was. I could have gone professional. I won the tri-state championship 3 years runnin', then I just quit) I don't think it was because I was brutally handsome (Good lord no. I was about the goofiest, most awkward, skinniest, dope you have ever seen. The brutally handsome thing came later) It was probably because none of the girls would dance with me. What ever the reason was, I didn't care. The height difference was perfect. My face was right at boob level (Sorry James) And she smelled so good. Man-0-man, did she ever. But the kicker was, that she was very nice to me. Boy-howdy, she made my stomach do flip-flops. I never wanted the song to end. But sadly, it did. Let me tell you something friends, in the eyes of a 7th grade little boy, Julie Kirsch was a full grown woman.

You know, I guess that's true about almost everything in my life, no matter how much I love the song, it always ends.

I like the way those disco balls throw dots of light all over a dance floor.
Here are a few tunes Julie and I might have danced to a long, long , time ago.

Adios,
~e~

CEO

2009-07-27T01:56:00.000-07:00
-----------------------------------------Bobby Nardelli

Hello friends,

Well, I have decided that I want to be the CEO (Chief ...sumthin'... Officer) of some big fancy company. Yup, that's what I want to do. And I believe I can handle the job...well at least as good, if not better, than some of those cats doing it now. Here are some examples and what I would do different.

Now take Bob Nardelli for instance. He was so craptastic that The Home Depot paid Bobby 210 million smackers to leave (I dropped the ball on this one. They got me to leave for free. I should have held out, at least until the cops showed up) Then he was hired by those knuckle heads over at Chrysler, to...well...I guess to run the company into the ground, cause that's what he did (I could have done that) I guess the interviewing HR who hired him forgot to call his previous employer. That was a colossal over sight on there part. Hell, the government offered a 750 million dollar loan to Chrysler, on the grounds that it would require that executive compensation be capped, but good old Bob, not wanting to take the governments money, turned it down. Now Chrysler is drivin' up chapter 11 avenue, flippin' off all people they put outa work, while Bob is transferrin' his 3.8 million dollar Los Angeles house into his wife's name (Now that one will come back to bite him in the ass, mark my words) I guess he is keeping his Atlanta home in his own stupid name.
One thing I would have have done is made the new Dodge Challenger and Charger affordable. They would sell a bucket load of those things (a bucket load is a bunch) And I would have drove to Washington to appear before Congress to beg for money in one of those silver babies with the black racin' stripes and a magnetic sigh on the side saying "This car cost next ta nuttin". Bobby chose to fly in a private 35 million dollar jet. Good choice, dumb dumb.-------------------------------- Fancy Dodge Challenger
Take a gander at Bobby's Atlanta home. I grew up in a house almost exactly like his. A carbon copy. The comparison is uncanny.
http://virtualglobetrotting.com/map/48980/view/?service=1

Roger Mulally of Ford closed 17 plants and put 51 thousand (that's right 51,000) people on the skids. But fortunately for Rog, he is still gets to fly to his other Mansion in Seattle every weekend on one of the eight corporate jets. His wife gets to use it too. I'm sure her heart bleeds for those 51,000, out of work, hungry and cold, X auto workers as she wings off to New York to get her bunions scraped. Rog had a pretty good year last year, he made 28 million dollars. Not to shabby.
I think I would lose the house in Seattle, cut all the executives pay by 70% (mine too) get rid of 7 of the jets, end all those free fancy lunches, no more trips to Hawaii with the wife on the company's tab, and stop using the employees retirement money to stay in fancy hotel rooms with high dollar hookers and snorkel up a pound of coke. Instead, I would eat at Antones, I would pay for my own vacations, and I would frequent seedy motels with sleazy whores and snorkel up a 8 ball of crank. That way, maybe I could keep 11 of the plants open and keep all the (51,000) jobs. You see, I would have trouble givin' some three toothed floozy that goes by the name 'Destiny' a 'damn good seeing to' knowing that she might have worked for me when she had a dental plan and was called LaShonda. What can I say, I'm a man with a conscience.
-------- -------------------------Mulally's ride

But my favorite CEO is, Dennis Leo Kozlowski of Tyco (Isn't that the name of the u-nee-bomber?) Anyway, he's the wild man who threw the famous one million dollar shareholders/wife's birthday shin-dig that had a ice sculpture of the Statue of David that whizzed Stolichnaya vodka all over the joint. Mmm-mmm. Makes me thirsty just thinkin' about it. Supposedly the hootenanny turned in to an orgy as the night went on. Denny also had a stupid 1 thousand dollar waist paper basket (trash can) for his desk and a stupid 6 thousand dollar shower curtain (WTF?) That thing better do something besides keep water from sprayin' on my floor for 6 G's.

Now, I wouldn't have had a party cause I'm afraid that if I did no one would show up and the rejection might give me some kinda complex or sumthin'. Not to mention, that whole table of chips and dip would go to waste. I would be up for the orgy tho (no pun intended) but as far as the peeing thing...well...I'll just leave that one alone. Now, I would have saved the company a bunch of dough on that shower curtain and trash can, cause I could give two s**ts about those kinda things. Ones from K-mart would work for me just swell. And maybe, just maybe, I would take the money I saved and give away some Tyco toys to a bunch of poor tots for Christmas. Being nice to poor kids at Christmas is golden when it comes to promotion and publicity. The public eats that sappy stuff up. --------------------Here is Denny and his pee drinkin' wife Karen

Let me tell you something friends, I could do it. I could have sabotaged all of these companies just as good as those goons did, for half the money and in half the time. I could put on some platform shoes and host a swingers soiree. These guys all have monster egos, and...well, I'm kinda a megalomaniac my own self, I guess. See, someone the other day told me I had 'narcissistic personality disorder' (NPD) and that's why I write this junk, so I can show you people just how clever and witty I think I am. Personally I don't think I'm clever or witty, I think I'm a souper jeanius. But, that's not for me to say, that's for....Where the hell was I? Oh yeah, the CEO's. Those fellas are gittin' paid millions to make us look like chumps. Chumps I tell ya! Well, I'm just about sick and tired of being the 'chumpy' and I am ready to be the 'chumper' for a change.
I wonder if I can apply online.

Speakin' of the skids, here are my good friends from North Carolina. You know, I believe my friend, Mary Huff, is the best female rock and roll bass player out there. She is a awsome talent...well, for that matter, everyone in this band is great. Dig it.

Adios,
~e~

9th Place, Edit, and the Gazillionaire Knight

2009-07-23T06:42:00.000-07:00
The famous 3 thing-a-ma-jig
Hello friends,

Here are 3 things that have me pissed.

1) I played in two poker tournaments this week. I made it to the final table both times only to be the first one knocked out. I kept telling myself to pay attention and don't do anything stupid, but guess what, I went and done what I told myself not to go and do. I didn't pay attention and did something stupid. I tried to blame it on Tracy but she wouldn't go for it. What a loser. I'm like a rusty Fetsler valve, I crack under the force of a lot of water.

2) Number 2 has been removed on the grounds I might incriminate myself.

3) Sir Paul McCartney is coming to town and I can't afford a ticket. For those of you who knew me when I was a youngster, and were over to the Eddy abode, you will remember my walls covered with Beatle junk. I bought all the records, I had the books, I wore the shirts, I even knew how to sign George Harrison's autograph. I useta put that funny little goofy 3 thing-a-ma-jig that George always had hanging around by his name next to my signature (we are talking when I was in Jr. high here folks) Hell, I didn't even know what it meant...still don't. It might have meant 'Doesn't pay attention and will do something stupid' for all I know. So I figure since I contributed to Sir Paul being the richest bass player in the solar system, I should get one free ticket, by God! Just one is all I'm asking for. Two would be even better, but I will settle for one. Or they should at least make the damn tickets affordable for Christs sake. So come the evening of August 17th, I'm gonna be pouting around the house, feeling sorry for myself and making Tracy's life miserable. That'll teach Mr. Sir, high falootin', big shot, Beatle man Paul McCartney. That'll teach him good!

And by the way, what's with that 'Sir' crap. I think that if your a Knight, it should be mandatory that you joust someone at least a couple of times a year.

Since I am mad at the Hippopotamus (Paul was NOT the walrus, he was the hungry hungry hippo, John was the walrus. George was the bunny rabbit and Ringo was the chicken) here are some Beatle songs done by my good friends. If you would have stopped by my casa Sunday you could have had a burger, some beers, and some censored with me, Joey (the singer) and Marky Starkey (the drummer) This first song kinda goes with 'reason I'm pissed' number 1.

You should here my right on imitation of the cartoon Ringo imitating the real Ringo. It's unbelievable. You said it daddy-O.

Hell, I guess I'll let 'him' sing one for me that kinda fits 'reason I'm pissed' number 3.

Adios,
~e~

The End

2009-07-16T05:46:00.000-07:00
Hello friends,

The other day I had a near death experience, so that got me thinking about the here after and all that goes along with it. I guess I have thought about it more than I thought I have thought about it. I have a verse in a song I wrote that goes somethin' like this ~

'Sometimes the weight is just to much to bare
and if I pass away is there anyone who'd care
would any tears for me be shed
or mournful words of Christ on that day said
you know this world, it brings me down
I guess I've lost what everybodys found
and I ain't got nothin' to bring me round
on the streets of this dead town'

Anyway, as far as salvation goes, I figure I have already done so much of the fun stuff that it would be pretty dern hard to dig myself out. Plus, I'm a weak, weak individual and would just keep fallin' back and I don't know if I could deal with all of the failure so we will just say I flunked that part of the test and move forward. No point worrying about something we can't do anything about, I say. So, I'm left with planing my funeral. OK, I'm tellin' you all so if something happens to me someone will know what the hell is going on. I am also assigning jobs to some of you, so don't let me down team.

1) Tecla B. is to head the hole mess up. God help ya'll.

2) James J, Joe B, and Jon P ~ I want a white, cheap, crappy casket with a box of sharpies next to it. (you guys gotta buy it too) That way anybody who happens to come to the funeral can write something stupid on it. Please watch your language cause of my mother. You can even draw glasses and a mustache on me if you want. That would be a riot.

3) Judi D. ~ You are the MC cause your pretty and everyone will like lookin' at you. (you can't get mad Jim cause I'm dead, sorry) I don't want some preacher that I don't know talkin' about my soul. That's really nobodies business. I want people to get up and talk about what a swell fella I was or any goofy thing they can think of as long as it in someway makes fun of Roger. Like the Easter basket story....what a knucklehead.

4) I would like to have some of my musician friends have a little jam thing ago-in. Brother Bagsby is in charge of that.

5) David C. ~ Your gonna be the greeter cause you kinda look like you work in a funeral home anyway, but mostly cause you would say some of the funniest things that no one would get.

6) Billy Earl P. ~ You get to make all the lists.

7) Nipper ~ You get to give everyone that comes in a ticket and have a drawing to give away the door prizes.
a- My cool pin-up girl collection

b- A copy of a picture of my dumb ass in 9th grade with some stupid metal shop
glasses on.

c- My smashed penny collection (and I got a bunch of um) You'll wanna win this one.

d- My fav-O-rite Motorhead shirt

8) Roger H. and Scott J. ~ You guys get to stand up front so everyone can see Rogers face when the stories are being told and Scott can stand there and laugh.

9) Cathy S. ~ I would like some go-go dancers. Like the ones on laugh In, but with out the body painting.

10) I want to wear my chucks, my tan Dickie's, and my Ramones T shirt. This job goes to Tracy cause she is the only one who can find' um.

Now, that takes care of that. Next is the burial. Jason O. this is your baby.

I want one of those little marble houses with the big iron door. I want a motion detector rigged up to a recorder so that when anyone walks by it will go off and and they will her me saying "Hey you, come in here and check this crap out." And on the inside I want a soda machine, my white, cheap, crappy, coffin with a T.V. sitting on it, a little table with a chair and a bunch of multi-colored rope lights. On the wall next to the chair is a big red button with a sign that says ~

"Well It Ain't Gonna Push It's Self"

Then when you push it the T.V comes on and tells my life story! (as told by me, not any of you liars) Man-O-man, what do you think about them apples?

Here is a list of the songs to be played ~

The seating --

Mr. Moto by Agent Orange
Tiger Man by Elvis
Motorhead by Motorhead
Honey Hush by The Pirates
Big Little Baby by The Reverend Horton Heat
Voo-Doo Cadillac by Southern Culture On The Skids
Let's Go For A Ride by Cracker
Amazing Grace by The Drop Kick Murphys

During -- my goofy friends can play what ever they want.
The end --
Here Comes The Sun by The Beatles
What A Wonderful World by Joey Ramone

Adios,
~e~

Mad

2009-07-10T16:03:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

I am in a awful mood today. It's one of those days where anything anyone says annoys me. It seems that everyone has decided to inform me of my faults lately.
I'm to loud or to forgetful or I don't pay attention or I talk to much or how irresponsible I am or my sideburns are to big or that I'm just flat out dumber than a foot stool. And how everything I like to do is a waist of time and everything I don't do is what I should be doing. Now, I know I'm not the sharpest mouse in the sack but I know what my damn faults are. I don't need a bunch of goons telling me. Christ, if I'm that bad, than I would appreciate it if everyone would keep there stupid mouths zipped and try to put as much road between me and them as they possibly can. Like right now, someone is talking to me about computer updates. He's firing questions at me that I don't know, or even care to know. Can't he see I'm doing something I like? Something that is very, very important? Maybe he will read this over my shoulder and shut the hell up....Nope, no luck. Blah, blah, blah, blah. Maybe it's the heat that's getting to me or maybe I'm just getting grumpy in my old age or maybe it's my customer who won't pay me cause he won't have any money until next week. We didn't get to finish our conversation cause he had to meet his private trainer at the gym cause he hasn't got to work out in two weeks cause he's been in Florida on vacation. Or maybe it's the other one who I can't get a hold of cause he is at his yoga class. Yoga??? Good Lord. Back in my day we called 'yoga' strechin'. Then he has hand bell practice. WTF? I would like to kick him in the bells. But I should look on the bright side, I get to climb up in my attic and fix the water heater vent. It's only 447 degrees up there, no breeze, and the insulation sticks to my skin as the sweat pores down my back and in to my pants. If I'm not careful it'll rust my bells. But let me tell you something neighbors, if I'm told one more time to be sure and walk on the rafters I'm gonna choke someone!

Have a nice day.

Here is a little disturbing video I made a while back when I was in about the same mood as I am in today. Enjoy!

Adios,
~e~

The Pledge

2009-07-05T10:01:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

Well it's July 5th and I hope everyone still has all their fingers. I know this is gonna sound sappy and corny but I'm gonna say it anyway. We all bitch and complain non stop about a plethora of topics. From abortion to gay marriage to gun registration to welfare reform. We all seem to have something to say about everything. We argue and fight, we get pissed and cuss, we scream until we are red, white, and blue in the face. And do you know why? I don't mean 'why' we disagree, I mean 'why' we argue. The answer is 'because we can'. One thing we will all have to agree on is that brave men have given there lives so we can disagree. My Grandfather gave half of his foot and had his insides blistered by mustard gas for that right. The Argonne Forest in 1918 was not a fun place to be. It wasn't even a bad place to be. Bad doesn't even begin to describe it. It was a unimaginable place to be. Look at these pictures, can you imagine being there? Men have put themselves in places like that through out history for us countless times. So next time your on your soap box (like I am right now) remember the cats who made it possible.

'The Pledge' was sent to me from a dear friend. That is his beautiful daughter. What a smile. I think my Grandfather would be proud.

I am honored to be named after my Grandfather, Douglas Foster.

Here is some music.

Adios,
~e~

Mom

2009-06-24T17:28:00.000-07:00
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.

2009-06-18T21:35:00.000-07:00
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

2009-06-18T00:02:00.000-07:00

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~