September 30, 2003
i really don't want to
How many times have I said that to people who want me to play guitar on stage again? I don't know, but it's been a lot since I quit for good in 1990. Okay, I didn't quit in 1990. I got lured into the Company Band in 1999 and played with them for a while. But that was work-related and the fucking PLANT MANAGER "suggested" that I participate, because I was a known guitar player, so I had very little choice in the matter. I played.
I didn't like it. I wasn't particularly fond of the people I was playing with, I didn't want to do it in the first place, and the music just didn't thrill me anymore. But I did it, and we actually became a pretty damned good band.
One thing I like about music is the fact that you can take five people who have never played together before and make a GOOD band out of them in two weeks, if they've played in bands before.
That wasn't the case with The Company Band. We had two people who had never played before in a group. They set the rest of the band back a long way. The problem wasn't that they couldn't play... they just didn't know how to play as part of a group. If you've never played in a band before, you may not know what I'm talking about, but TOTAL SOUND is what you're looking for, not individual musicianship. Our drummer and one guitar player just never really wrapped that idea around their heads.
The drummer wanted to be Ginger Baker on every song, without Ginger's ability, and the guitar player always thought he needed to be louder than anyone else. That doesn't make for building a good band. I did not tackle that situation and try to fix it. I just promised myself that if I ever got OUT OF IT, I would never put my Cracker ass back in it again.
And I haven't since then. I'm being recruited again for the same type of thing, but I am flat saying "NO" this time. I don't want to play with those people and I don't want to play at work. If I ever make music on stage again, it'll be bluegrass or acoustic, not rock-and-roll. I don't mind playing electric with my friends, but fuck if it's ever going to be a job for me again. Don't ask me to do that.
I really don't want to.
One of my original readers. I was hoping to see her at the blog-meet. She lives 10 minutes away from Dahlonega. But her comments don't work, she has no email address that I can find on her page and she hasn't blogged for shit lately. Siso, are you coming are not?
Bejus! If you don't, I will hate you forever.
what makes a troll
Okay, can somebody else explain it better that I can? Feel free.
Maybe it's time for you to put your money where your mouth is and step up to the plate.
Dave, I'll be 52 years old in less than five months. I believe that my age disqualifies me from military service. But I would be more that happy to whip YOUR ass. And I don't care how old you are. You probably believe that I will fight "fair."
I will, too. I'll use whatever weapon I need to fairly whip your ass. I'll take wisdom over strength any day.
* If I had known that my blog daddy was going to link me, I might have cleaned up my act a little last night. Of course, if I had done that, he might not have linked me. I am SO confused. I think I'll just keep writing the way I do. But thanks, Dad. That's another blow against the alliance.
* Some more people sent me cat-bombs today via my email. I KNOW they don't hate me, because they say "You'll LOVE THIS ONE, Acidman," then they make me puke all over my keyboard. People... I don't believe that there is any such thing as a "cute" cat. I hate 'em all.
* My trusty truck overheated on me on the way home from work today. It hit the red-hot zone on the temperature indicator and my "Service Engine Soon" light came on. I pulled over on the side of the road to check things out. I let the engine cool while I smoked a cigarette. I crawled under the truck and saw something that I didn't like. The water pump was bleeding like a stuck hog. I finally garnered the nerve to pop the radiator cap, and I managed to do it without getting any scald-scars on my arms or face. The result wasn't pretty.
Luckily for me, I carry a gallon of water in the bed of my truck and I was able to refill the radiator and make it all the way home. But that truck needs to hit the shop tomorrow. I'm going to call my boss shortly and take tomorrow off as emergency vacation. I also need to call Recondo 32 to see if he can follow me to the repair shop and bring me back home while the mechanics fix my truck. If not, I'll be doomed to a long day of sitting in a car-repair garage.
* Do I seem to have attracted a larger than normal legion of trolls lately, or am I just becoming paranoid in my old age? They TELL me that I CAN'T WRITE, then PROVE that they can't in my comments. What kind of bent spoke gets a thrill out of that?
* Wanna know why the Effingham County Herald dropped me like a hot rock? Wanna know what pissed off the Salzburgers? I DARED to criticize the WAY THEY DRIVE. Salzburgers don't drive worth a shit. That's a FACT. And I followed one of those assholes halfway down highway 21 today while he drove with one foot on the gas and one foot on the brake AT THE SAME TIME.
I realize now that when I mention such things, I may offend delicate Salzburger sensibilities. But I can't help myself. YOU FUCKING FRUITCAKES!!! If you drive with your goddam brake lights on ALL THE TIME, what good are your brake lights? You're gonna fry those brakes pretty fast, too, dumbfucks.
But don't tell 'em that around here. They won't drive any better, but you WILL piss them off, and they'll get you fired.
I ranted about the difference between cats and dogs the other day and thought I had the upper hand in the argument until I read this comment, courtesy of Robin Roberts
You don't find a cat eating dog turds either.
I think I've been bested here. Old Bud was a damn good dog, but he thought the cat box was a salad bar. He slept a lot, but when I saw him drag is old, arthritic ass to his feet and head for the kitchen, I KNEW what he was about to do. If I didn't hurry to stop him, I would find him with his head in the litter box.
"BUD!!! What the hell do you think you're doing?" The half-deaf old fart would look at me with kitty litter all over his chin and a cat-turd sticking out of his mouth like a cigar. What is it about dogs that make them want to eat cat shit?
I don't know. But they damn sure do it.
I missed the boat
Every now and then, I get a comment that's better than the post I wrote. After I received comments on sex, magic, blood-sacrifices, auras and Janet Reno, I saw this one:
Folks, have you ever wanted to HAVE sex, but didn't have a suitable target for the ENERGY you generated by doing it?
And yes, the commenter has a blog.
Since none of you seem to have a clue about why I consider you to be trolls, go read this. THAT'S how you disagree with someone on a blog.
I responded in the comments. I don't really disagree with his central point (The Partiot Act is a dumbass piece of legislation passed by politicians in a panic to "do SOMETHING... DO ANYTHING" after 9/11. Most of the shitheads who voted for it didn't have a clue what was in the bill. Don't get angry at John Ashcroft about that. Get pissed at YOUR Senator who voted for it without reading it.)
What I DON'T like is the wolf-crying idiots out there who try to paint Ashcroft as Stalin. Hey, boys and girls. If he wanted to act like Stalin, he COULD with the powers YOUR SENATORS GAVE HIM. But he hasn't.
Bejus. Stop with the fake heart attacks and the "I'm comin' to join ya, Elizabeth!" Fred Sanford rhetoric. I don't give a damn if you think Ashcroft is evil incarnate. He's yet to burn and kill anyone.
Just imagine Janet Reno with a Patriot Act.
September 29, 2003
Things I thought about today
* I thought about Palestinian fathers who strap bomb-belts on their sons and daughters and send them off to die. Then, I thought about the pie-fight I had with Quinton and Jack this weekend. How can ANY father love his son and still strap an explosive belt on him, and tell him to go detonate himself in the middle of a cafe? What kind of savages are those people? I would throw myself on a hand grenade to save Quinton's life. I would NEVER take pride in seeing him become a "martyr" in a totally useless, totally stupid cause.
* I thought about my job. I thought long and hard about the fact that I don't qualify for the package that's being offered to people that are a mere three and one-half years older than I am. I wish I could take it. Hell, I would throw my clock number in the hat RIGHT NOW if they would let me. I can retire with reduced benefits on February 16th of next year. If they would sever me NOW and throw in about two years worth of pay, I could do what I really want to do.
I could write, full time, and see how much I could sell.
* I thought about football. I did a lot of coaching with Quinton this weekend about how to line up a tackle in the open field and how to "lead" a runner when he's trying to cut the corner. I also told him to use his helmet first and shoulders second when making a tackle. I don't give a shit what some have-no-clue-about-football pussy such as this one has to say:
admit I have misgivings about Rob's attitudes and values. To teach his son to 'hit to kill" in a game of football does not strike me as wholesome. Macho yes. But wise? I don't think so. It's okay to encourage competitiveness, but that's not the same thing as what Rob said he wanted to encourage.
Dumbfuck. DID YOU EVER PLAY FOOTBALL??? It AIN'T a NICE-GUY GAME. If you are not willing to "hit to kill," your pussy ass has no business on a football field. That ain't fucking soccer you're playing out there. The helmet and shoulder pads protect you, but they are WEAPONS, too. If you can't use them as such, you don't need to jock up and go out there.
If you EXPECT to hit or GET hit on every play, you're ready for it. You learn how to take a lick, how to fall, how to give a lick and keep on your feet. You learn to stay ALERT all the time. People who go to sleep on the football field get hurt. If I stay on my toes all the time, I'LL be the one who hurts YOU. I don't see anything wrong with teaching my son to play football the way I played it. He gives away a lot of size out there, the same way I did. I am showing him how to WIN in spite of physical shortcomings.
Sometimes, in football, it boils down to who wants it badly enough. If you won't hit, hang up your jock and go home. Football just ain't your game. It's a collision sport. If you ain't willing to collide, you'd better just quit, RIGHT NOW.
And mamas who can't handle that fact should NEVER let their darling, precious boys play football. Buy them some goddam Barbie Dolls to play with. You always wanted a fucking girl anyway.
* I thought about Blood Mountain. For some reason, I dreamed last night about being back in the cabin. I dreamed that I had slept all day (Bejus! I wish I could!) and I was late for the blog-meet. I was alone and I couldn't find my car keys. I went into a panic. (I have this real anal part of me that demands total punctuality in everything I do. I live and die by deadlines at work and I'm still alive.) I went running out of the cabin with no pants on and realized that I couldn't ride to Dahlonega UNDRESSED the way I was. I started back to the cabin to find my pants and woke up at 4:20 this morning.
Yes, I dream vividly that way.
* I thought about my mama. We didn't go visit her this weekend. Me and the boys had pie-fights and football games, and I am a shitty son for doing that instead of visiting my mama.
That's what I thought about today.
here is how stupid some assholes can be
I offer for your consideration a true dumbass in action:
If Rob doesn't want comments that disagree with his opinions, why does he have them? If it's only to get praise for what he writes that's pretty boring. And why is it stupid to leave a comment against what he says and it's not stupid to leave a comment about what a troll says? And what is a troll anyway? Just somebody who doesn't agree? Beth leaves a lot of comments. Is she a troll? If Rob only wants comments from people he agrees with he should say so.
Randi, you scum-sucking asswipe, I NEVER CENSOR ANYONE. I enjoy arguing with people who really want to question my ideas and make a counter-argument. But when people LIKE YOU call my site "pretty boring," I have to wonder what the fuck you're doing here in the first place. Go masturbate. You're probably a lot better at that than you are at writing because you've had a lot more practice at flogging your wanger than you have at putting coherent words on a page. It might do you a world of good to have a woman do it for once in your life. You'll probably have to pay for it, but in YOUR case it'll be worth the money.
You'll never get laid otherwise.
If my son was ANYTHING like you, I would strangle him in his sleep for the good of the universe.
Did you ever have a literate English teacher in school? If so, you never paid attention in class, did you? If you ever had a fucking original idea in your head, it would die of loneliness, because you don't do a lot of original thinking. Pathetic buttwipe.
And YES, Beth is a goddam Troll. She never wants to debate an idea with me. She wants to insult me and my readers with her pseudo-psychological bullshit. Well, that infantile bed-wetting cunt can BITE ME. You and she should get married and raise morons. As If either one of you could figure out what "outie" goes in what "innie."
There's never been a fence around my ass. I just don't like people who won't come through the gate that doesn't exist but still want to trash my yard. That cowardly bullshit is what makes you both fucking trolls. Dumpster-Heads.
The truth is, you both envy the hell out of me, and that fact bugs the shit out of you. I get lots of visitors per day on a popular blog, I have more cash money in the bank than you'll ever see in your trolling life and I have the Crackerbox, my own domain name, five weeks of vacation every year and a bionic dick, all bought and paid for.
You WISH you were ME.
But you're not and you never will be. BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
and some of you assholes won't stop whining about ashcroft
If Ashcroft is such a neo-Nazi, I would like a couple of real-life examples of how his storm troopers are quashing dissent and silencing free speech in this country. I don't expect any, BECAUSE THERE AREN'T ANY, but leftist hockwads keep bitching about a booger-man that isn't there. What the fuck. Why should I be surprised by that idiotic behavior? They oppose drilling the ANWR and believe in the Koyoto Treaty. Dumbfucks.
Try this on for size.
Performing oral or anal sex will become a crime in Indonesia punishable by up to 12 years in prison.
They'd better build a lot of jails.
I've got some unpleasant news for every blue-nosed Puritan on the face of this planet. People are ALWAYS going to do three things because they are PEOPLE. You can read through 10,000 years of recorded history and discover something that government has NEVER been able to prevent and government has fucked up badly every time it tried.
1) People are going to fuck. People are going to do it no matter what penalty you threaten them with. Prostitution is not called "the world's oldest profession" by accident. He-ing and she-ing is gonna happen, and he-ing and-he-ing will, too. She-ing and she-ing can be outlawed but not prevented, and human beings are pretty imaginative about sex. If someone has an "innie" where someone can poke an "outie," they're, by Bejus, gonna try it. If they LIKE IT, they'll keep doing it, too. Laws won't stop them.
2) People are going to GET FUCKED UP. They're gonna drink and they're gonna do drugs. Altered perceptions are something a lot of people crave. You can make drinking and drugging a crime, but you'll NEVER stop it. All you do is put a lot of people in jail who don't belong there and tie up a lot of law enforcement resources trying to make people stop being people. People won't EVER do that, but murderers, rapists and thieves love it when the cops are doing dope busts instead of coming after them.
3) People are going to GAMBLE. They always have and they always will. You know what is the ULTIMATE form of hipocracy? My STATE runs a lottery, which is a fool's form of gambling. I like to play cards and bet on football gam