"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...

Ho-Ho! The EYES Have It! Can You See?

Yesterday morning, on the way to ANOTHER doctor's appointment, I was driving down LA Hwy 22. I watched the fog rise over the Tangipahoa River and the tributaries that run with it just east of Ponchatoula. This wouldn't normally bring any excitement to the day, but something was amiss. Or, not! I was able to see clearly without closing an eye, wearing a patch, chanting voodoo spells or killing a chicken and spreading it's blood. I could see! So, I was cautious not to say anything to anyone, except my friends in my head. And I went through the day and night waiting for God's trick to be over. Surely he'd be cashing in on the bet he and his golf buddies made at my expense. But lo and behold, the morning brought no difference. I can see again. Sorry about the golf joke, God. And thank you...

Note: In July of 2012, the myasthenia gravis returned with a vengeance. Tried wearing a black contact lens to block of one eye and see. The black started to wear off after a month or so. I quit wearing it and learned which eye to use and which to ignore. 

Roses Really Smell Like Poo-oooo-ooo...

"I know you'd like to thank your shit don't stank - But lean a little bit closer - See that roses really smell like poo-oo-ooo Yeah, roses really smell like poo-oo-ooo"

So another day goes by and the pain keeps flowing. For some reason, my malfunctions and dysfunctional manner of living and breathing has done something fucked up to the person that I love. The big question is just that. The BIG question. The big question is, "Is someone prepared to spend the rest of  their life with someone who is A-fib, OCD, bipolar, neurotic, myesthenia gravis and pretty much all fucked up? Someone who grew up with the concept of respect for his elders and courtesy for everyone..." I wonder if she can continue on the same path? The bigger question is, "Can I?"

Life isn't easy. If it were, than no one would give a damn about it. Sleep on it...

And we strike another blow for Pierce against the shit heels with this story on Channel 8.

Thanks to Natasha Robin...

2011 - Only the Strong Survive

When you're always chasing rainbows

and you might not know which way the wind blows

You say your lucky day is comin'

Until that day you're just slummin'

So you wait and you wait but the signal don't change
Watching TV daily there is no sign
You read your horoscope
But ahh, it would appear there is no hope

So what?
Who cares?
Gotta put a handle
on your fear
A man comes
And a man goes
And he always leaves alone

Only the strong survive
You better wake up from that fantasy
It's time to open your eyes
Don't be afraid to see what you might see

The years roll by and the boy feels cheated
He fights back hard, his youth's retreated
He lets his hair grow, gets a sports car
But he knows that won't go so far

It's too bad
It's real sad
You lost the best thing
You ever had
You had some hope
And you had the youth
But now you'll never
know the truth

Only the strong survive
You better wake up from that fantasy
I think it's time to open your eyes
Don't be afraid to see what you might see

Only the strong survive
Don't ever let it get you down
Oh, I can't sympathize
If you expect to stick around

So what?
Who cares?
Better put a handle
On your fear
A man comes
And a man goes
And he always leaves alone

Only the strong survive
You better wake up from that fantasy
I think it's time you opened your eyes
Don't be afraid to see what you might see

Only the strong survive
Don't ever let it get you down
I think it's time to open your eyes
If you expect to stick around

Only the strong survive
You better wake up from that fantasy
I think it's time that you opened your eyes
Don't be afraid to see what you might see

I'm not finished....

Christmas - To Suffer in Silence with a Broken Heart

As John Lennon wrote, "And so this is Christmas"... And that it is. Why have we allowed the birth of the Christ child to become another commercial excuse for everyone to judge everyone else on what material goods they have? Those that have plenty of money to spend worry most about getting the exact thing that whoever they're giving to desires. Those that have little or nothing, worry about how they will be perceived or whether or not they'll be able to nudge a month's bill to the next so that they can try and do a little something for those closest to them. Some wish for things that are entirely impossible to gain. Some cradle their broken hearts and wish the season over because of the pain it brings. Some say, "Damn it all to Hell", and silently endure the pain of the season at hand. They wander through the pain with their personal misery held close to their breast and pray to God that it all ends soon so their life can go back to it's quiet normalcy. That is who I truly wish I could help. I wish that because I know how that person feels. I know the pain that can't be taken away and I know that there is one good thing that Christmas does bring about for those people. It is the closeness of family and friends that honestly care and don't care about gifts or shopping or figgy fucking pudding. Look over your family and friends for this individual who shields his or her heart. They are the ones that need you more than anyone else. And they are the ones that will share their heart with you. Have a wonderful day with your families and friends. Remember our fighting men and women who are on foreign soil and are unable to be with us. Remember the policemen and firefighters who are away from their families to protect all of us. And remember what this day truly stands for. To my friends and family, I love you all...

Christmas is for Rich People and Idiots

Need I say anything more..?

"Got TA, got TA, got TA, got TA, got TA, got TA, got TA try a little tenderness!"

What a fantastic blues line... Got to try a little tenderness. I'm feeling sad because I see that in the turning of the world we've lost three people who were loved deeply by their families and friends. We said goodbye to "Aunt Louise", to Rob Schulte's sister and to the greatest hurricane expert that ever lived, Mr. Nash Roberts.

And in the end,

The love you take,

Is equal to the love you make...

Eye Never Know Where My Emotions Will End and the Pain Begins...

So there comes a time over the course of a day where I want to dig the eyeball out of my skull. Shocking, isn't it? It shouldn't be. Covered with a patch all day, it gets no fresh air and it gets pissed. Then it starts to itch, sting and hurt like there is an eyelash irritating the surface.

All this frustration
I can't meet all my desires
Strange conversation
Self-control has just expired
All an illusion
Only in my head you don't exist
Who are you fooling
Don't need a shrink but an exorcist


Show me the movie
Of who you are and where you're from
Born of frustration
Caught up in the webs you've spun
Where's the confusion
A vision of what life is like
Show me the movie
That doesn't deal in black and white


Stop stop talking about who's to blame
When all that counts is how to change
Stop stop talking about who's to blame
When all that counts is how to change


All this frustration
All this frustration
Who put brown owl eyes on a butterfly's wings
All this frustration
All this frustration
Who gave the leopards spots and taught the birds to sing?

Good evening, Ladies, Gentlemen & all ships at sea. What a revelation! What an incredible breakthrough! When I decided to take legal action against the mighty State Farm ("with 40 MILLION policyholders - more than GEICO and Progressive combined" -oh yeah who gives a flying fart?) I hired an old friend and attorney to take care of business. I thought I was in good shape with him doing the stomping. Well, K lost her meal ticket and things got tricky, pronto. I called my barrister and mentioned something we'd spoken about concerning an advance of legal awards to help me pay the bills. He wasn't set up for it, but assured me he would get me to someone who could.

Jump forward to the NEW guy. I was better lying off in the bed at LA Heart Hospital hallucinating over Dr. No and Pussy Galore's Flying Circus. NO COMMUNICATION! WEEKS ago, I met with his assistant and signed the contract where, I might add, the 40%-50% split was distinguished over all. I've asked several times about the advance, only to meet a solid wall. I've never spoken to him and am hanging in the breeze. And attorneys wonder why they are a pariah race of joked about and disrespected puzzle solvers that are perceived as thieves and charlatans. What the Hell!?

Which Way Does the Water Swirl?

It seems like forever since I've been able to write on this page. It is definitely difficult to do because of my eyes. It appears that things are spiraling out of control and I have no way to stop them from happening. First it was one disease; now it's another. When is it ever going to make up it's mind and just turn me loose? I'm so tired of being in it's grip...

I'm A Killer and I'm a Clown



"Step into the street by sundown;

step into your last good-bye.

You're a target, just by livin';

Twenty dollars will make you die.

So I enter the most complicated, exhilarating and terrifying week of my entire life. Infusion and my friends, the catheter and needles, start the week out with a "stick". What a great Monday...

Tuesday brings me to the first post-op checkup with Dr. Palo. I get to see just how much my shoulder has healed and more importantly, ask the good doctor why he suggested that the injury may not be from the wreck. I will have to differ with him, as my shoulder was just fine BEFORE it was yanked. I find it amazing that when the MRI was read, the shoulder was torn. After, it was a different story. And lets not forget that a doctor's son ran into me and totalled my car. My shoulder started acting up almost immediately.

Wednesday and Thursday are "days of rest". HA!

Friday is pre-op for the big show.

Crazy? I am a desperado...

Sunday AM

Met a Dwarf that was no good - dressed like Little Red Riding Hood.

Why don't you play the tune now?

I don't like music.

C'mon you little geezer.

You'll look funny when you're fifty.

Fifty.

Fifty.

(But, Fifty-Four?)

Time to piss and moan a bit. There. Done.
Karen has to work tonight for the Giants-Colts game - SUCKS.

The big problem at hand right now is that my gas tank is running low. Personally, of course. The first bill cycle is two weeks away and there's STILL nothing from State Farm. I get the distinct impression that they would rather me get an attorney and go full tilt with my injuries. My back is still turning tricks and my shoulder is unbelievable. I can't sleep on my right arm for the pain. And this here idiot was going to be satisfied with a pre-determined amount that I hold in my head. This amount would take care of it and get SF a signed release. But since adjusting for State Farm has moved backward to the ice age, they don't communicate at all. I'd say it was the old, "Ignore it and it will go away". I will not go away and I don't make idle threats about attorneys. I've tried to be nice, but there is a limit to everything.

No wonder GEICO and Progressive are eating your book of business for lunch and dinner. Let's speculate. Microdiscetomy - 5th lumbar to repair herniation - $50K plus P&S. Right shoulder - rotator cuff/bursa tear - $35K plus P&S. Roll those figures around a bit. Add the diagnostic costs for a couple of MRI's. And if I go to an attorney, which I DON'T want to do, they look to sharkbite you on the ass.

One Hell of a lot more than the, let's say, ten or so thousand that could get you a signed release. Do the math. And by all means, consider that I'd be more than happy to go for an IME. Prove my statements to you. Make cake for you to spend. The impact that your insured driver put on my little car was catastrophic to and for me. Additional expenses. CRAP. And I could just keep going to Ochner and Humana and drag your claim file out for as many years it takes. File suit next year to avoid prescription and cruise until it all gels right. And I TOLD you I was an ex-adjuster. I TOLD you I wanted to take care of this quickly. You probably dumped me to your SIU unit. Check my fraud capacity.

Sooner or later, but I'm not going to continue to goof off with no chance of a reasonable settlement.

To continue to go to the shop and help out while enduring this agonizing pain will only happen for so long.

OH YEAH! Don't forget that you're aggravating the HOLY SHIT out of my Myasthenia Gravis. Again, Google it!

When does the pain go away?

So here it is, going on two weeks since I spoke to the State Farm Claims rep about settling the claim.

Just how long does it take to assemble some medical bills? Two bills from Ocshner and a weeks' worth from the physical therapists. Is that so difficult?

And what will they do when they get them? My biggest question concerns their handling my pain and suffering. Because of the Myasthenia Gravis I cannot do physical therapy. And I will not risk any kind of surgery for risk of infection that could make me severely ill or kill me. My shoulder hurts like Hell and my back is doing a "wait, you'll see". Thats actually when I move or dip the wrong way and it tightens that grip on the L5 disk.

I know that I am getting damn tired of waiting. What in the Hell are their TIP guidlines? How often do they diary? Seems like they are trying to push me to an attorney. Shit!

WILL THEY DO THE RIGHT THING AND BE FAIR WITH A SETTLEMENT OFFER OR WILL THEY MAKE A TOKEN BULLSHIT OFFER THAT WILL PUSH ME TOWARDS LITIGATION?

Who knows? I find it amazing that an adjuster for a major insurer would blow off a claimant that was hit from behind in a case of clear liability. And after calling TEN DAYS ago and requesting they generate a settlement offer, they sit in a puddle and blow fart bubbles. But this could be the regular plan. I'm a claimant, so they owe no duty to me. I've been completely honest with them and let them know that I was a appraiser and adjuster for major companies. Even a field claims supervisor for the 'gecko' and a claims manager for a state based muti line company. Not to mention a multi-line adjuster for an international offshore catering company. Fully licensed to throw the dice.

Now I sit and wait for a HOPS clerk to make up her mind to call me... What a fucking crap shoot!

The Man With the Woman Head...

Are you with me on this people?

The man with the woman head -

Polynesian wallpaper made the face stand out, a mixture of Oriental and early vaudeville jazz poofter, forming a hard, beetle-like triangular chin much like a praying mantis. Smoky razor-cut, low on the ear neck profile. The face the color of a nicotine-stained hand. Dark circles collected under the wrinkled, folded eyes, map-like from too much turquoise eyepaint. He showed his old tongue through ill-fitting wooden teeth, stained from too much opium, chipped from the years. The feet, brown wrinkles above straw loafers. A piece of coconut in a pink seashell caught the tongue and knotted into thin white strings. Charcoal grey Eisenhower jacket zipped into a loaded green ascot. A coil of ashes collected on the white-on-yellow dacs.

Four slender bones with rings and nails endured the weight of a hard fast black rubber cigarette holder. I could just make out Ace as he carried the tray and mouthed, "You cheap son of a bitch"

as a straw fell out of a Coke, cartwheeled into the gutter.

So this was a drive-in restaurant in Hollywood,

So this was a drive-in restaurant in Hollywood,

So this was a drive-in restaurant in Hollywood.

Frank Zappa was one of the most incredible musicians that ever lived. Besides being a virtuoso guitarist, he had a positive knack for assembling some of the best bands you "never heard in your life". Bongo Fury was a live show recorded in Austin, TX with fellow offbeat composer, Captain Beefheart. I was fortunate enought to see Mr. Zappa with his full complement at Tulane's McAllister Auditorium. Bruce & Tom Fowler, Napoleon Murphy Brock, Terry Bozzio, & George Duke were among the greatest ensemble bands that Zappa ever brought on the road. He's gone now; one of the great musicians that went before their time. He joins the ranks of Hendrix, Lennon and others who deserved to stay here longer.

The green monster you see above is Maggie the Chameleon Monster. She is mine, but she is a bitch. She's my l'il dinosaur and I love her. Even though she is the most unsociable creature  in the world.