"Half way to Memphis 'fore I realized..."

BANG - BANG - BANG... The novel, "Devil Said Bang", is one of the masterful compositions of Richard Kadrey. He penned a series of books that center around one James Stark; AKA Sandman Slim. Stark tangled with the wrong people and found himself smack dab in the middle of Hell's arena. Battling Hellions and demons, he became more and more versed in the arts of the inferno, stopping short of the bowels of Tartarus. Lo and behold, and to his surprise, Stark was placed back on Earth to extract his vengeance on those who were responsible for sending him down deep. From "Sandman Slim" to "Getaway God", Kadrey's readers are treated to a roller coaster ride through Dante's Inferno as it's never been seen. Characters like the walking, talking, Danny DeVito styled Kasabian; and Stark's "Jade" lady friend, Candy, make the entire series interesting and entertaining.

Not a gray hair in sight...

Why did the Devil Say Bang? (With kudos to FZ) It's quite simple. He was pointing at me and... I said, 'What are you doing, with your finger as such?' He said, "Don't you worry; Well, not that much!" With his long nailed red fingers, formed a perfect "six-gun", aimed it in my direction and dropped his thumb. I said, "Hey Mr. Devil! What do you say? Is this the way you you act? Is this how you play?"The gun on his finger went, "Hey! Hey! Hey!!" "Now what do you think of my finger today? Blow a hole in you is the better way. I've made a mess of your life. Yeah, I got you now. Off I go to the underground, to sharpen my horns and wipe my brow. I'll see you later, that's for sure. Cause the farthest thing from you, Boy, is Ivory pure!"

Wow! That was some of the worst crap I have ever written...

So here it is, almost the end of October, 2014. Two weeks off of the start of my most hated six months of the year... The end of Daylight Savings Time. Extensive periods of useless darkness. I'd venture to say that "normal" time is responsible for more single bouts of depression than the Saints going to the NFC title game, only to face Seattle on their turf. I think It would be a hard choice as which I'd rather; the Saints a winner or six months of undeserved darkness. Needless to say, I count the days until sunshine returns.


So here is another try at getting back on line with the blog. It's been difficult to get back around to writing again. Fortunately, I still hear the muse... Maybe I can put her temptations to good use. See you soon.

"Everybody's got something to hide except for me and my monkey"

Margaret Hamilton and her pet flying monkey...

 

"Every time that I look in the mirror
All these lines on my face getting clearer
The past is gone. It went by like dusk to dawn

Isn't that the way
Everybody's got their dues in life to pay

Yeah, I know nobody knows
Where it comes and where it goes
I know it's everybody's sin
You got to lose to know how to win

Half my life's in books' written pages
Live and learn from fools and from sages
You know it's true
All the things you do, come back to you

Sing with me, sing for the year
Sing for the laughter and sing for the tear
Sing with me, if it's just for today
Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away

Sing with me, sing it for the year
Sing for the laughter and sing for the tear
Sing with me, if it's just for today
Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away

Dream on, dream on, dream on,
Dream until your dream come true
Dream on, dream on, dream on,
And dream until your dream come true
Dream on

Sing with me, sing it for the year
Sing for the laughter and sing it for the tear
Sing with me, if it's just for today
Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away

Sing with me, sing it for the year
Sing for the laughter and sing it for the tear
Sing with me, if it's just for today
Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away"

The Pain Administered by Administrators...

JINDAL'S JOKE - THE RAPE OF NEW ORLEANS

What the last few months have brought about have prompted me to break out the keyboard and start tossing my frustration into paragraphs. Some of you know that Karen had major surgery last month. Performed at the LSU Interim Hospital, I got a first hand look at the "Bobby Jindal "GOV" Boxers Memorial Medical Center. Sprawling across the expanse of city that is bordered by Galvez to Lasalle and Poydras to Tulane, the huge shimmering complex of chrome, glass and steel rises from the ashes of what used to be an old New Orleans neighborhood.

Centrally located within the shadow of the Superdome stands the LSU Interim Hospital. For those who don't have a clue, this is a polite and PC name for Charity Hospital. In truth, the hospital is a cold, callous and mercenary operation. Staffed by a combination of doctors who know what they're doing and aren't afraid to let you know just how much you don't know; And a staff of residents who wander around in circles waiting for the authorization from their mentor physician. After all, it is a teaching hospital. You know - like med students cutting on cadavers for practice. 

The artist's rendition of what the hospital is supposed to look like is shown below. Believe me, the real thing looks NOTHING like the rendition. There is a link below the "photo" that brings you to a review page where people have shared their "interim" experiences. Please take a moment and read them.

http://www.local.yahoo.com/info-39326286-University-Hospital

Now, back to the big picture. The entire aforementioned construction area looks like a war zone. The streets and sidewalks are in various states of disrepair. Streets are blocked off, pot holed, cracked and uneven. And sidewalks are missing entirely or beat up and broken. The ultimate caution and one of the pet creeps goes to the City of New Orleans. Ninety percent of the streets have parking meters. However, the same percentage lack signs or street markings to indicate where, how or when someone can park. On normal, regular streets, there are painted lines to indicate boundaries. Not here. You're left to the mercy of the meter maids who zealously attack a vehicle whose owner has unsuspectingly parked their vehicle in a place that is nondescript to anyone but the meter troll. In the same position, it cost me $40 because my parking ESP wasn't working. The biggest problem is -

THERE IS NO PUBLIC PARKING!

What kind of public officials can make these arrangements around a PUBLIC HOSPITAL where people with NO MONEY have to receive treatment? For Christ's sake, how can they be expected to pay for parking around a charity hospital? Where is Landrieu? More importantly, where is his head? Stuck in his posterior? Why not suspend the parking regulations until the construction is complete? The answer is quite plain and clear. THEY DON'T GIVE A DAMN! 

This medical center is being built but no one can afford to use it. They're laying people off at LSU right and left. Yet the construction continues. Jindal's legacy rises and the City of New Orleans kicks their citizens in the nuts on a regular basis. We all fall in the national opinion poll that says everyone in Louisiana is ignorant and racist and alcoholics. I can't say I blame them. 

The biggest problem with this whole thing is the concentrated effort to strip people of their dignity. Someone has to come from forty to fifty miles away to get care at LSU. No consideration for this. Get in the cattle line and prepare to get the bang stick. I know it's unkind to say. But I sincerely hope that all of you get exactly what you dish out.

My prediction - the LSUMC aka Bob's Folly will not remain in the hands of the public trust and will be placed under the control of a private medical management corporation - ultimately going to Hell in a handbasket while Booby Boy attacks his further political ambitions...

More soon...

"I like you, Pyle. Hell, I'd take you home and let you..."

So here I go. 2011 has been one Hell of a year, so far. I've only managed four blog entries. But dodging bullets takes a lot of time, twisting & turning. Class, let's review.

The beginning of the year crisis and ensuing catastrophe that followed. Jesus H. Christ, what a cluster fuck of the highest order!  (AND by the way, Blogger... this new format-layout-editing system sucks bad. Everything takes more time and it leaves you hanging and wondering if you did the right thing. It took me ten minutes to get the left side graphic posted. "What do you want from life?"

So here we are. It's September and I haven't really gotten to throw anything out there for pondering. How about this?

St. Tammany Parish or the State of LA re-combubulated Hwy 21. Widened and new lights and turning lanes. Hold on! There's a pet peeve just waiting to be chastised. Turning lanes. Regular one-lane turners work beautifully. But the engineers got it stuck in their tiny little brains that TWO lanes would work better. Now this would be a valid point and work quite well, IF people drove their vehicles like intelligent drivers with the mind of upper level monkeys and not imbecilic assholes. You see there are three types of drivers on the road.

The normal temperate courteous driver that lets people in and doesn't blow their horn, etc. is the first kind of driver. God made every driver resemble this. Satan switched them around at birth, turning them into one of our second and third classes of drivers. Then, there's imbecile number one (IN1). IN1 has to drive five times faster than the speed limit everywhere. This causes brain damage while sitting at the dual lane stop light. Consequently, the light turns green and it's five drivers drag racing to get in front of the other five drivers sitting there.

Then IN2. IN2 feels that he OWNS his particular lane. So instead of doing as the law provides for, and the signs instruct, this shithead refuses to let anyone merge into "his" lane in front of him. This action, in turn, causes the other lane to back up with cars who are waiting to merge, therefore defeating the purpose of having two frikking lanes.

WHY doesn't the State Police sit on the on ramp, or any other dual turning lane, and shag the crap out of these ass-pickers? They're dangerous, they're discourteous and they downright piss you off. Does the term FAILURE TO YIELD come to mind? Troopers can sit on the neutral ground and grab drivers for expired brake tags, (inspection stickers for the NON-Louisianan), while these idiots make tempers flare and cause accidents. Come on! Can we get some kind of recognition here?

The Power of Love

"The power of love is a curious thing

Make a one man weep, make another man sing

Change a hawk to a little white dove

More than a feeling that's the power of love...

Tougher than diamonds, rich like cream

Stronger and harder than a bad girl's dream

Make a bad one good make a wrong one right

Power of love that keeps you home at night..." (1)

 

Once upon a time, there was a young man who had gone through some marriages that both ended badly. One brought forth two fine young sons. The other brought forth pain, nausea & a general desire to drown two step kids. But cooler heads gave way to signatures on the divorce papers and the man found himself, once again, adrift in the sea of humanity commonly referred to as "the dating pool".

He frequented a local pancake house for breakfast almost every morning, meeting several friends to share coffee and talk. He was friendly with the all-female wait staff and came to know them all by name. He ended up asking one of the girls out on a date. Going to a steak house on their inaugural outing, he found her interesting and she liked him as well. He dropped her off after the date, at her friend's house where she was staying. She invited him in for coffee. He accepted and they spent a bit of time getting to know each other even more that night. He was completely taken by her striking blue eyes.

They became closer as he was at breakfast every morning. And almost every evening, they were together for dinner or watching television. They seemed to hit it off quite well and he was actually thinking that she might be the one for a long relationship. I mean, she liked his televison and she didn't really drink much. She said that she liked to read books. They could ride in the car, or sit in a room without feeling the need to fill the quiet with immature prattle.

He took her home to meet his family. All was well, with the exception of Thanksgiving. His brother pulled out several bottles of vintage wine. She had more than her fill and ended up a little more than tipsy. She was a little embarrassed when she got home, after becoming ill on the drive home. This event did endear the man to this girl. He had fallen in love with her. A few days later, as they were driving together, they spoke of falling in love and if it was possible for them. At almost the same time, they both expressed their love for each other and began a romance that the man thought would last forever.

Over the course of the next ten years, they combined their households and endured hardships and heartbreaks. Family members and beloved pets lost seemingly before their time. The girl left her waiting job and found a job at a retail discount store. With what the man made, things went well. Money was not a problem and they lived in comfort. Until the song came to an end...


"Life's ambition occupies my time
Priorities confuse the mind

Happiness one step behind

This inner peace I've yet to find

Rivers flow into the sea
Yet even the sea is not so full of me
If I'm not blind why can't I see
That a circle can't fit
Where a square should be

There's a hole in my heart
That can only be filled by you
And this hole in my heart
Can't be filled with the things I do" (2)

And to it's end, I offer these words...

"touched, you say that i am too
so much, of what you say is true
i'll never find someone quite like you again
i'll never find someone quite like you, like you
the razors and the dying roses
plead i don't leave you alone
the demi-gods and hungry ghosts
oh god, god knows i'm not at home
i'll never find someone quite like you again
i'll never find someone quite like you again
i, i looked into your eyes and saw
a world that does not exist
i looked into your eyes and saw
a world i wish i was in
i'll never find someone quite as touched as you
i'll never love someone the way
that I loved you" (3)

(1) Huey Lewis & the News - Power of Love
(2) Extreme - Pornografitti - Hole Hearted
(3) VAST - Touched

Going Senile Isn't All That Bad...

Another year has gone by without Pierce. I was in such a trance about it, Johnny had to call me and tell me that it was THREE years since he left us. I still have trouble grasping the whole thing. I expect him to walk in the door any second now. Johnny keeps me grounded on a daily basis. Even though he has enough to do with work and moving. He is still there. For that I am truly grateful.

News! Facebook banned my crosspost there of yesterday's entry saying that it was abusive and spammy! Do you guys at Social Networking ever pull your heads out of your rears?

And while we're on the subject of a failed marriage in which one or more of the parties involved have held a grudge for the past 16 years. The person I'm referring to knows who they are. Juvenille attenpts to hurt my feelings deep to the center of my heart were successful. Well, get this. I don't care anymore. Your pitiful and vengeful acts have hurt me enough.

Time Waits For No One..

Tomorrow marks three years that Pierce has been gone. I still can't grasp it fully. I still feel the mixed pain of that terrible Sunday morning. My father calling and telling me that a strange woman, who said that she was some Holly Wood's mother, had called at 7:00 AM raving about how my son John had collapsed and died of a drug overdose at the Marriott in Baton Rouge. She knew this because her daughter had held his head in the bathroom for several hours. We tried desparately to reach Johnny AND his brother, to see if this horrible woman's story was true. It just couldn't be, could it? At last, Johnny called. Obviously, he was alright. This made another possiblity come to mind. Could it have been Pierce? How could we find out? How could this be true? But it was. And the rest is despair and pain. Tomorrow marks the day that extinguished a bright light...