Gut Rumbles
 

October 28, 2011

the weather

Originally published September 21, 2003

The sky has been overcast all day today. Last week was a beauty, with eye-busting azure skies, low humidity and highs in the lower 80s. I felt the first breath of fall in the air when I went to work in the mornings. I love it when the summer blast-furnace creeps away and cooler weather slips in behind. It's still hot, but not at all like it was for the past four months.

My lawn is beginning to look like a legitimate lawn. I spread $130 worth of centipede grass seed out there when I first moved in and nothing but weeds grew, no matter how long I ran the sprinklers. We got a lot of rain this year, and that unnoticed grass seed really took off. I have genuine grass growing all over the place now. It looks good.

The nights are dipping into the 60s and I'm starting to plan a camping trip. Jennifer from across the street wants to go with me. She is Jack's mama and she likes to fish. I told her last weekend that she is welcome if she wants to go with me and the boys. I have a tent that sleeps four, and it might be fun to put a little estrogen into the mix. Maybe I can charm her britches off, too.

There I go, thinking dirty again. EXCUSE ME! But she ain't a bad-looking woman.

I really enjoy camping. I am one hell of a campfire cook and I make delicious meals over open flames. I also like to play my guitar and sing around the fire at night. I like to tell scary stories, too, when the moon is high and the woods are dark. I usually have the boys trembling in their boots by the time I am finished with one of my tales. I just make the stories up as I go, but the boys LOVE having the shit scared out of them, and I make up some pretty impressive crap. I surprise myself sometimes. Quinton has crawled into MY sleeping bag more than once at night after hearing a good horror story. The BC once suggested that I write children's books because I am so good at telling stories that kids like to hear. I may do that some day.

But I'm not certain that "The Man With the Crazy Eyes," "The Monster From the Bottom of the Lake," or "What Was That In the Woods?" will really attract a lot of publishers. Little kids like those stories. I know.

Wouldn't it be a hoot to see Acidman writing books for children?

October 21, 2011

for those who want to know

Originally published September 21, 2003

Yes, I can have a fully-satisfying orgasm with the bionic Roscoe. That part is exactly the way it used to be.

I do not ejaculate. I feel the same sensations of ejaculation when I climax, but I dry-fire. All of my seminal vessicles were removed when the doctor carved out my prostate. So, if you don't like to swallow, I'm your guy for a blow-job. I'm all hiss and no jizz.

I am not tender. I was for a while and the fact that I always carry a semi-boner bothers me at work sometimes, but once my pants are off, I have no problem with rodeo sex.

And yeah. It still feels just as good as it did before the doctors got their hands on me. Plus, I can do it ALL NIGHT LONG now, even when I'm asleep.

Any more questions?

October 14, 2011

writing songs in the bathroom

Originally published September 21, 2003

Is is just me, or did a lot of musicians like the way an acoustic guitar sounded in the bathroom? I wrote and performed some of my best stuff while sitting on the toilet with the lid down. The notes just bounced off the tile walls very nicely. I enjoyed that sound.

I still like to play guitar in the bathroom. The bathroom I have now is not nearly as good as the one I had ten years ago, but it still has enough tile to make the guiitar sound better than it does in the living room. So, I sometimes sit on the commode and play.

A cigarette and a glass of wine
Makes me remember that woman of mine
And just how good she made me feel
I've been drunk and I've been burned
Seen my whole world being overturned
Looking back, it seems unreal.

Chorus:

Love can make you happy
Love can damn near kill you, too
I remember that woman of mine
Our days together it were a very good time
But that's all gone, sad, but true.

That song sounds really good in the bathroom.

October 07, 2011

miserable monday

Originally published September 23, 2003

I never should have blogged about feeling a touch of fall in the air. Today was as hot and muggy as any day in August. I was cursed at work with one MAJOR problem, quickly followed by the Death of 1,000 Tiny Cuts. One a scale of one to ten, this was an 8.7 fucked-up day.

The A-line micronizer baghouses are about six stories off the ground and that is where my MAJOR problem was. I don't remember how many times I climbed those stairs today, with sweat pouring off me and running down the lenses of my safety glasses, but after the last time, I swore that if I had to do it again, I was going hop over the handrail on the roof and do a swan-dive onto the pavement below. My legs are tired from all those trips up and down the stairs.

Of course, days like this one are what keep my 51 year-old backside looking a lot younger than it is. My legs aren't bad, either.

But DAMN if those stairs don't get steeper every year.