The Swirl

I hate to hear people talk about how many medications they are on. It just sounds sad, and it hurts more to hear this type of talk when it comes from my own mouth. A couple (few?) months ago, I stopped taking Aderall. I'm not going into the boring and worn-out reasons, just telling you so you know. Now, I can feel what I call "the swirl" returning to my brain. The swirl comes in slowly, and picks up speed over time. It starts with a main thought, then spirals into several smaller thoughts on the same subject. I become very creative, and imagine many new ideas for paintings, books, career paths, etc. The problem is, the swirl giveth and taketh away. I watch those great ideas fly about, then not so much fade away, as just be overlapped by another. Eventually, my head is full of many layers of overlapping ideas, and nothing has been done with any of them. I don't know which is worse, to take the drug and wake up on Saturday thinking about something I was supposed to do at work on Friday, or to not take the drug, and sit at work on Tuesday thinking about what I'm going to do on Sunday? Either way, at this point, I have decided to drop more into this little blog space in the meanwhile. You know (if you have read any of this crap here) that this has been a place for me to put little things I see or imagine up, and find out what you think about them. I would not call it a traditional blog site, where I tell you how I feel that day, and for some reason you come back each day to read about it. I have never understood that type relationship. But, I will post more often, with less emphasis on funny pictures/stories in the future. I'm not trying to "bring down the room" and turn this thing serious, just trying not to ignore it so much for fear that I will not entertain. This will be fun- watch and try to determine when and where I break down and "go back on the drug" as far as how the style changes. Until then, I just realized that I AM at work, and should probably do something.

I Never Thought it Could Happen To Me

Well, up until a few years ago (like three) there were no solid jobs for middle aged commercial actors. By commercial, I mean the annoying clip between the segments of your favorite show that are used to sell or make you aware of new crap to buy. But then, something magic happened. Cholesterol lowering drugs. Then, libido increasing drugs. Then, a bunch of other shit designed to help old dudes get divorced and start looking for love at Hooters. We ALL know the trademark names of these concoctions, but I'm afraid to say them here for fear of being sued. I still said "Hooters" though. Being sued by Hooters would be pretty funny. Anyway, these commercials are all the same. First scene- Old guy with grey hair/beard sits with his hands on his face and talks about how shocked he was to hear that he was old, and his heart/joints/knees/balls were no longer up to par. He is ALWAYS filmed in black and white. Then, the color film kicks in, and he is suddenly on a mountain bike. He is in the middle of God damned nowhere, on a bike. Or, a canoe, or, if it is a sex drive pill, a motorcycle. He has some woman that is his age or close, that he is shown to be planning on wearing out whenever they get where they are going on those bikes. Later, he will be shown by him self again, on the bike or motorcycle. This is to show that he can prowl from woman to woman. There are so many of these type pharmaceutical commercials out now, that old dudes everywhere are lining up to get to "star" in one. In a few years, I will get myself a mountain bike and try out for "my junk works like new" guy in an old dude drug commercial. P.S. That is not me in the picture above.

This Does Not Suck

I was out at one of my usual lunch rotation restaurants the other day, and headed off to the restroom to wash my hands. As I rounded the corner, I discovered a gaggle of vacuum cleaners. This is something I am seeing more and more of, even in my own home. I own, and only confess to owning, an old Kirby vacuum. Its all steel and chrome, ways about 78 pounds, and sucks dirt off the floor like a tornado. My wife, on the other hand, owns more than a couple "other" vacuums. This is due to the fact that, these days, you can't seem to buy one just to clean the damn floor.

It has to clean the corners, or the tile, or the air. It has to clean the couch, and the stairs, and the dog. It has to clean the environment, and cobwebs off of the ceiling. All of these extra duties have taken away from the original function, and I say enough is enough. Take your fancy "ball" vacuum, and your HEPA filtered life saver vacuum, and all the paper-towel-on-a-stick, wet squirt varieties of floor cleaner, and pitch them out. We have been led astray from the original duty of the simple suck and go vacuum cleaner. Attachments are the Devil.

Im back, sorta.

Thought I would come back to the duck with some stupid product shots I have taken over the past few months. I have been down a bit, and not had an Internet connection due to being broke ass. If it pleases you to know, I am working tonight on a stolen connection. I will try to post regularly for a while, if I can. Thanks for coming back by- Chris

That's one NASTY juice box.

Yeah! String! (You CAN become a string expert!)

Please, sink to the bottom!

"This solar flashlight has not worked since the minute we walked in this cave!"

Date ball tells you who to date and when, even if you are six years old.

A lot of people "hooked up" with seventies songs. Some broke up.

The Irish Pubis is "open". Ewwwww

Is that a pagoda in your lap, or are you just happy to see me?

New flavor sensation from Sobe-

Good thing I sold the "bicycle built for two"

Dude, your dog is totally gay.

I can see this, being held on top of a tiny car, by tiny hands.

No comment.



"This remote control is broken, the train only seems to go to the left?"


"Careful Tommy, don't get your baseball pants dirty before the game!" (I don't know why that is funny to me........baseball pants.)

Unless you can afford the good shit.

Lets Go Cruising!

I saw this sign today, while driving out of the Jacksonville Airport. I assume it refers to the people who fly in to Jacksonville to get on a cruise ship? I am not really sure. I thought it was funny, because of how many "cruisers" I see in this town almost every day. When I first moved here from Atlanta about eight years ago, I had never heard that term before, cruising. Well, I had heard it, but usually meaning to get in a car, or on a bike, and just go riding around with no real destination. In this city, it means something else entirely. Websters dictionary defines the word as: to search in (a public place) for a sexual partner b: to approach and suggest sexual relations to. Wow. Even ol' Webster was hip to the game before me. I noticed a few years ago as I was walking home from work, that a few guys (mostly kindly old men) offered me a ride. The curious thing was, they were not traveling in the same direction as me? Since becoming aware of the hustle, I can not believe how many people there are in J-ville looking for love in all the wrong places. Let me name a few- boat ramps, parks, library's, rest stops, gas stations, bridges, any place you can fish, just about anywhere you can drive a car or walk up to. Also, if someone comes up and asks you "do you have the time?" look at their wrist. Chances are, they are wearing a watch. They did not ask if you knew what time it was, they asked if you had the time! Silly deviants. Anyway, knowing all this, that sign was hilarious.

I Dream of Genie

I was sitting on my couch the other day, trying to change the batteries in my TV remote. I tried to put the cover back on, and it would not go. I pushed it harder, then smacked it on my knee. I thought I heard it crack, so I started to get up to get a screwdriver, to see if I could jam it inside to move shit around, and force it shut. As my knees popped and cracked to straighten, I heard a slow, deep country twang say "turn em' round, you got em' in backwards, sport". I reached for my pistol, and looked up to see the helpful stranger sitting on the arm of my living room chair. It was Sam Elliot, and boy was I glad to see him. "Put that pistola down, and turn em' battries' round" he said. I let the pistol go, and pulled the cover off the remote. I flipped the batteries, and sure enough the damn cover snapped shut, clean. I don't really know Sam, but I have seen a lot of his (?) movies. Is he an angel? He should be. He is way more helpful than that Michael Landon character ever was. I wish he really did spend his day waiting for me to have a problem, or question that he could answer for me. That would be sweet. And always dressed as a cowboy, or an old grave digger, or a soldier, or maybe the wise old biker. But never dressed as one of the other thousand different characters he has played................ just kidding. He has only EVER played those other guys. And that is why he rocks. he does that one thing, well. He pops up, wearing a cowboy hat, and helps you out of a jam, like a redneck genie.

Commercial Flight

We have all heard of taking a "commercial airline" before, and have all most likely taken a flight somewhere or another. I flew out to Ohio last weekend, and made a small discovery. The commercial flight really is commercial now. The entire flight, you get to watch a string of commercials, on a loop, displayed about 16 inches in front of your face. The head rest has a small TV screen built into it, and unless you pay a couple bucks to watch half of a movie (based on your destination) you get to watch commercial ad's the whole way. Or, you could just turn it off, and look out the window. Don't look up though, because if you do, there is a couple of hundred commercial screens staring back at you, and nobody giving a shit to turn them off.

Introducing, the DEmotivational Speaker

Have you ever had the pleasure of sitting through the one hour set of a professional (or amateur) motivational speaker? There is nothing like it in the world. First of all, we would all agree it is a purely human event, as in animals probably don't have to talk each other into much. I'm not sure, but I imagine that it is a purely American event as well? I have never heard of a Russian, Chinese, or Italian (that's EYE-talian) speaker- other than something like "work faster or you die!" Mussolini type shit. The best is being blind-sided by a motivational speech when you were not warned, or maybe you were tricked, into sitting through it. It goes something like, "hey kids, there is a really funny guy in the auditorium who wants to talk to you" who turns out to be Matt Foley (Chris Farley) and lives in a van, down by the river.

Some of these folks rise to unimaginable wealth and fame, as well they should. Corporate drones file into the "ballroom" of whatever hotel, glassy eyed and ready to take the elevator to the top floor to jump off a balcony- and one hour later, come out of the room brand ass new. Fired up and ready to fight the good fight.

That, unfortunately is NOT what I want to talk about today. I want to talk about a new sort of speaker that I have become aware of in my adult life- the DEmotivational speaker. Saturday Night Live (SNL) had the good sense to add this character to the line-up just the same as the "Matt Foley" one, in a bit they called "Debbie Downer". I watched her do that whole, "well, it will probably just rain" thing a dozen times, and never realised how many of those downers are living(?) among us. Ever get up, feeling pretty good, and head in to work with a new sense of optimism- only to come home (or to lunch) with a new sense of homicidal rage? A sense of the benefit of swerving your car into oncoming traffic? You have most likely sat through the soul sucking bit of the DEmotivational speaker. It can happen to young kids at school. A teacher can double as a demotivational speaker. Your child starts the year off talking about becoming a Doctor, and then comes home from school talking about managing a Wendy's........at night. One of your good friends may have trained in this dark art. He will be the guy who always reminds you of how stupid your ideas are. However, if he likes your idea, you will know it when he reminds you that you are a shit-talker, and you will never do anything. There is the female version of the "demo" speaker, who normally comes at her girl friends with a softer approach. Her hook is the "well, you know, you are just like me, your a little bit lazy- but that's ok, I'm the same way" one-two punch. You walk away, ok in your non-action, but secure that you have such a close friend to come to when you have these "crazy" ideas of happiness or success. I think you get the point, and I'm out of time. I feel pretty optimistic today, so it is time to head in to work, where someone can help me with that feeling and remind me where my place is. UPDATE: I came back after work today to add a thought here. What if we auditioned these people, the demotivational speakers around us, and employed them to do what they do for good? Have them infiltrate terror cells- or street gangs. Maybe it would go something like this; "what, go out and blow a bridge up? Shit man, I brought weed, and Americas Funniest Home Videos is coming on". There would be an awkward moment, with all the committed terrorist's standing in the doorway, and the "demo" still sitting on the couch. The leader would ask "are you going?" and the demo would just say it back in a mocking and irritating voice- "Rar-Roo-Rowing??" then the others would laugh, and sit back down. The implanted demo would then go into the bathroom to send the signal back to headquarters, telling them that the situation was avoided, or, demoted?

Obama Wants My Guns?

If you need an anti-aircraft gun, or just a practical AK-47, you had better buy it NOW. I was just at the gun show again (I know) and apparently, like Clinton before him, Barak Obama will not rest until he has rid this country of each and every firearm that a real, red blooded American would ever want to shove under his pillow at night. I remember the safety orange stickers that were stuck all over the AK-47 I purchased in the early nineties, warning the potential buyer that time was limited, and that Hillary Clinton had set a date to melt that weapon down, and would use the metal to sculpt a statue of a welfare Mom using your tax money to buy lottery tickets.

We didn't want that, so we all went out and bought weapons for reasons we could not begin to explain to our wives. Somewhere between Clinton and "thirty round clip" my wife just seemed to nod and smile politely. I find it all pretty funny now, and its great to watch all these young suckers fall for the same crap. Clinton never took my guns, and neither will Obama. Deep down, though, I did kind of want to see that sculpture.

Happy Birthday NASA!

It sucks to live in Florida, and hate NASA, but I do. 147 billion dollars, for what? Floating around. Well, there was that one major discovery they made...........oh, yeah, there wasn't. In my opinion, the whole program is and has always been a diversionary tactic. Keep looking at the sky, not around your neighborhood. The space shuttle is an intergalactic Uhaul truck, ready to break our lease on Earth, and move us in the middle of the night to some other planetary apartment that we can trash. 147 billion dollars. I don't believe we will ever do anything worth while with that shuttle, and furthermore, I don't believe we EVER went to the damned moon. People think I am crazy for saying that, but I think the joke is on them. My usual argument is based on the fact that in 69, a walkie-talkie weighed 10 pounds. 10 pounds? These guys went up there, landed, played some golf, did some donuts in a farging DUNE BUGGY, then jumped back in the capsule like it was a Chevy Monte Carlo, and returned safely to Earth. All the while, NEVER missing one communication with "Houston". I cant make a cell phone call in 2008 and fully expect the call not to drop. Don't be a sucker for this crap story. The lunar rover (aka dune buggy) was the size of a Buick Riviera. I don't care about all the people who demand an explanation for why they cant see the foot prints on the moon with a telescope. I just want to know where, in that tiny capsule (I have seen it at the Smithsonian) they stored that dune buggy? I know why they did what they did, and why they said what they said- to keep the Russians in check. But it has been like 40 years, so damn, let these people off the hook already. Today is the 50th anniversary of NASA. Happy Birthday NASA, you ol' bullshitter you.

Shakespeare Programmed my Cell Phone

I am a crappy text messenger. It takes me forever to get out one broken sentence, and by the time I do, I have been passed up by the entire conversation. I nearly wreck my truck, and most of the time just end up clearing the text, and making the call. I have noticed something about my phone, however, that really has me puzzled. Why is it that my Motorola Razor, when in text mode, knows words like "forsook" and "hitherto" but not simple words like "going" or "eating"? I have to tell it how to finish a four letter word (not a dirty word) but it can bust out with classical English? I am now intrigued, and want to know WHO programed my phone. Try this, because maybe it's just my Motorola- Try typing a simple sentence that you would likely say to a friend during the natural course of the day. Then type ANY line from the Old Testament. I bet you will have to finish more words for the simple, modern sentence than the Jesus said this, Moses said that, Abraham hit me with a wiffle-ball bat gobble-dee-gook. Let me know.

A Picture worth a Thousand Words?

High gas prices, blah blah blah. Just wanted you to see how bad it has really gotten. I will post more later, got to go trade semen for a quarter tank.

Free Fireworks Show!

It's nearly the "fourth" again, and I am so pleased to hear about all the festivities that are being planned (weather permitting) for the event. Every time I turn on the TV or the radio, I keep hearing the same announcement. "Free fireworks show at x location, at x time!" and so once again, I am left to play the asshole. How the hell do you charge money for a fireworks show anyway? I can see it now, "folks, if you paid your five bucks, then look up- you poor fuckers keep your eyes down on your cheap ass shoes". You have to pay the Baptist church to "look up" when there is a fireworks display being put on. You poor kids, try putting a pinch of glitter on your shoe. When you hear the boom of the display, just kick some of the glitter up off the shoe, and say "WOOOOOOOOO!!!!"- that aught to do it for you.

Piss on This

I have always had an eye for things that should mean nothing, but should mean something at the same time. I guess I'm what they (they?) call a conspiracist. I don't believe in one theory or another, but more in a constant, static channel of hidden order, continuously operating just below the surface of what we see as reality in our everyday lives. My awareness of this order causes me to pay very close attention to the things that we are NOT supposed to pay attention too. Most of which, I dismiss as a burned bearing, or a broken tooth in the gears of the universal mechanism. That being said, I have no idea why I went into this with you folks. Anyway, here is something that has always bugged me, and I want to see if you have ever noticed. The following are pictures of public (or residential) toilets. They are adorned with their brand or model names, and I just wonder how and why a group of marketing people, or just the owners of the patents on each units particular design, would have EVER decided that these were the best names available for such a device?

Church, and American Standard. We should piss on American Standards, and the House of God? Now, I don't walk to Sunday school with an American flag pin on my lapel, but, I know people who do. I cant believe the collective "they" ever got away with this.Anyway, I'm out of time, and I have to run over to Home Depot. I'm going to remodel my bathroom, and I need to go get one of those nice "family values" shitters.

Hot for Teacher

I remember when I was in high school, and even in middle school, there were always "those guy's". The kid that would come in on the first day of the new school year, and start shit with the new teacher right off the bat. She would go through the whole text book "control the situation" routine, and almost never win.

This would go on for the first month or two, and the kid would maybe even be kicked out for a while. Then, something magic would happen. Every time the kid did something stupid, or said something he would normally be killed for, the teacher just got this glassy-eyed look, and tried to fight a smile back in an attempt to seem authoritative. Every now and then, you might would catch her playing with his hair or some other form of physical contact as she walked by his desk during a test. Now, us all being really young, would all start in with the "teachers pet" type crap. As we got older though, that turned to flat-out asking the guy what the hell? He would then start telling us how he went to her house, got drunk with her, and well, you know the rest. We would all call bullshit, and laugh at him. Sometimes, the kid would persist in his wild tales for months, as the stories got more and more detailed. My point is, before I go all day with this, is that we have all learned now that that kid may have been telling the truth. This shit really happens, and I wonder how many of the classroom bad-boys I knew were taking "night classes" to keep those grades up for football?

We had bad GIRLS as well, but that old tired story is just too damned easy. It's always the P.E. coach. At least that's what the girls would tell us. There was always some urban legend about a coach, caught in the gear locker with two twin 15 year old Vietnamese girls. I think it was the coach that started that one though.

Do you know this face?

This horse-face tart is Mary Murphy. She is one of the "star" judges of "So you think you can dance" on whatever network. She started off as a judge, based on her expertise in the field of ballroom/competition dancing. She now carries the show based on her ability to fake laugh, and flash her giant, carrot gnawing horse teeth, none stop, for the duration of the painful ass show. Her voice makes me want to load a shotgun, and drive to the mall. I want her to star in my new show, that I will call "Do you think you could shut the fuck up?" set to air in my head, the next time I'm dreaming.

If You Thought the Target stuff was Stupid?

If you thought the Target crap was bizzare, take a look at these jewels I ran across at "Bealls" outlet store. Top quality!

Lets start with "Metro Kid"- This is just too damned easy. I saw the episode of Southpark where all THOSE kids went "Metro". Wow, life in the Ukraine must be tuff.

Again, too easy.

Strawberry Shortcake goes "ghetto". It is all good, Strawberry. Or, should I say "Skrawburry Shirtcake?"

Next, we have AUTOBIKE. Bear the Palm?

"Super Handsome Speed, Soon Top Power" is apparently what most Asian's are thinking when riding a motorcyle.

"Band your Eyes on The Toys!" "You band them good!"

This scares the BuhJesus out of me....

Speaking of BuhJesus, Holy Crap. I hear the Lord really speaks through this book. He says, "Please kill this crazy bitch".

This enterprising inventor got around the Pez patent, by changing the familier flip top device into a strange broke-neck, side flinging candy nightmare. Thats all I got folks.