19Jan07?...NO WAY!
Was that when I published my last post?......Hey Tommy, why didn't you say nothin'?.....Oh come on man, you can't leave me hangin' like that bro......Oh, so it's funny?.....I know it's my responsibility but still, you could have said something.....Hey, I actually have a few people out there who read this blog.....No, not just Beetus and my sister, actual other people...Tommy this ain't goin' well at all, you're just enjoyin' this a little too much...Alright I will...Yes I will, but you owe me one bro.
Yeah so it's been real crazy around here for the last few weeks. I've been writing, lots. So I feel like I owe everyone an apology at this point. I love this blog thing, don't want to throw it away but like I said, it's been crazy. Any free time I've had I have spent working on my current book, free time is at an all time premium right about now. I have got to go grab a quick smoke before my nicotine levels drop below the acceptable operating range, be right back.
Okay, that's much better. So the teachers went on strike, again. Been three years without a contract, probably going to walk one more time before the school year is out. I am not begrudging any collective bargaining group their right to strike, but when the teachers strike it really, really sucks. Lets add repeated snow storms, ice and temperatures in the single digits just for fun. Oh, did I mention car trouble too? Seems like I've done nothin' but turn wrenches, shovel snow, chip ice and deal with a couple of bored to tears kids and housebound dogs for the last month.
Hey Tommy, I'm thinkin' maybe a Brinks truck followed by a plane ride to Costa Rica...Yeah, no extradition treaty with Costa Rica. No snow storms and no ice, except the ice floatin' in your tall glass of rum and whatever maybe. Yeah, and if the teachers strike who cares? Just go fishin'.
So my wife worked overtime last night, she's sleeping now. Before she went to bed she mentioned something about tearing out the rest of the carpet on the stairs. It's nasty old carpet. So I tore out the rest of the carpet on the stairs, very quietly so as not to wake her up. I'm like a Ninja Carpet Removal Guy. It's really not too hard to rip up the rug with stealth, until you have to remove those wooden slats with the millions of very sharp little nails sticking straight up that hold the carpet securely in place. Those things are like booby traps and they have got to be removed as soon as, before children and dogs sustain possible injuries. Normally I just lay my flat bar down and drive it home with a shot from my Estwing 22oz. framing hammer, like a warm knife through butter. Today however, Ninja like stealth being so very critical to operational success, I had to forgo use of my favorite hammer and rely on cunning, tactics and shear force of will. Needless to say, victory is mine. Be it ever so friggin' humble.
Tommy, ain't no way you could have done that job without wakin' her up...No way. There's a lot of things you were always better at than me, but tools ain't one of 'em.....That's right bro, that's why I was always a better shot than you too...Oh please, how many times?....Out on the range, or whatever. How many times Tommy?.....Hey look man, I ain't stuck up, ain't never been very competitive but when it comes to shootin' I was pretty damn good at it.....Thank you, and yes you could always outrun me and you always did a little better on the PT test....Okay, and girls.....Alright, and cards too....Yes you did get promoted real fast, but you were a career soldier, I was just passin' through....Yes I remember the grenade range.....Yes I did throw the practice grenade and it bounced off a tree and landed right back next to where we were prone behind that log......Yeah, and that sergeant was pissed. He said I throw like a girl and you just couldn't stop laughin'....Yeah that was pretty funny, but I was still better with a rifle or sidearm than you or that sergeant, I just suck when it comes to throwin' things.
I really have to run for now. We get up early on Sundays for Polka Breakfast. The Polka Hour on the radio, that lasts three hours, it's a Polish thing. Anyway, The Parrot loves it, he dances on his perch and he gets scrambled eggs and sometimes a pancake. It's a tradition in this house, Polka Breakfast on Sunday mornings. I love Polka Breakfast. I love my girls, and our dogs, and the two silly birds. I really love my wife, Polka Breakfast was her idea back when it all began. I may never become a published author. I'll probably spend the next eighteen years working down on The Dock 'til I can draw Social Security to supliment my cop pension but, I will always have Polka Breakfast, wouldn't trade that for nothin'.
Later bro. Tommy you can stop laughin' now...yeah the grenade thing was funny but that was like twenty-five years ago almost....Yeah, some things do get funnier with time I guess. Catch you later man.
Yeah so it's been real crazy around here for the last few weeks. I've been writing, lots. So I feel like I owe everyone an apology at this point. I love this blog thing, don't want to throw it away but like I said, it's been crazy. Any free time I've had I have spent working on my current book, free time is at an all time premium right about now. I have got to go grab a quick smoke before my nicotine levels drop below the acceptable operating range, be right back.
Okay, that's much better. So the teachers went on strike, again. Been three years without a contract, probably going to walk one more time before the school year is out. I am not begrudging any collective bargaining group their right to strike, but when the teachers strike it really, really sucks. Lets add repeated snow storms, ice and temperatures in the single digits just for fun. Oh, did I mention car trouble too? Seems like I've done nothin' but turn wrenches, shovel snow, chip ice and deal with a couple of bored to tears kids and housebound dogs for the last month.
Hey Tommy, I'm thinkin' maybe a Brinks truck followed by a plane ride to Costa Rica...Yeah, no extradition treaty with Costa Rica. No snow storms and no ice, except the ice floatin' in your tall glass of rum and whatever maybe. Yeah, and if the teachers strike who cares? Just go fishin'.
So my wife worked overtime last night, she's sleeping now. Before she went to bed she mentioned something about tearing out the rest of the carpet on the stairs. It's nasty old carpet. So I tore out the rest of the carpet on the stairs, very quietly so as not to wake her up. I'm like a Ninja Carpet Removal Guy. It's really not too hard to rip up the rug with stealth, until you have to remove those wooden slats with the millions of very sharp little nails sticking straight up that hold the carpet securely in place. Those things are like booby traps and they have got to be removed as soon as, before children and dogs sustain possible injuries. Normally I just lay my flat bar down and drive it home with a shot from my Estwing 22oz. framing hammer, like a warm knife through butter. Today however, Ninja like stealth being so very critical to operational success, I had to forgo use of my favorite hammer and rely on cunning, tactics and shear force of will. Needless to say, victory is mine. Be it ever so friggin' humble.
Tommy, ain't no way you could have done that job without wakin' her up...No way. There's a lot of things you were always better at than me, but tools ain't one of 'em.....That's right bro, that's why I was always a better shot than you too...Oh please, how many times?....Out on the range, or whatever. How many times Tommy?.....Hey look man, I ain't stuck up, ain't never been very competitive but when it comes to shootin' I was pretty damn good at it.....Thank you, and yes you could always outrun me and you always did a little better on the PT test....Okay, and girls.....Alright, and cards too....Yes you did get promoted real fast, but you were a career soldier, I was just passin' through....Yes I remember the grenade range.....Yes I did throw the practice grenade and it bounced off a tree and landed right back next to where we were prone behind that log......Yeah, and that sergeant was pissed. He said I throw like a girl and you just couldn't stop laughin'....Yeah that was pretty funny, but I was still better with a rifle or sidearm than you or that sergeant, I just suck when it comes to throwin' things.
I really have to run for now. We get up early on Sundays for Polka Breakfast. The Polka Hour on the radio, that lasts three hours, it's a Polish thing. Anyway, The Parrot loves it, he dances on his perch and he gets scrambled eggs and sometimes a pancake. It's a tradition in this house, Polka Breakfast on Sunday mornings. I love Polka Breakfast. I love my girls, and our dogs, and the two silly birds. I really love my wife, Polka Breakfast was her idea back when it all began. I may never become a published author. I'll probably spend the next eighteen years working down on The Dock 'til I can draw Social Security to supliment my cop pension but, I will always have Polka Breakfast, wouldn't trade that for nothin'.
Later bro. Tommy you can stop laughin' now...yeah the grenade thing was funny but that was like twenty-five years ago almost....Yeah, some things do get funnier with time I guess. Catch you later man.
posted by Squarehead at 10:37 PM
4 Comments:
Hey Squarehead,
Welcome back. I have missed you. I understand that time thing. It makes us rearrange our priorities and feel like we haven't done enough in the time we are given.
Anyway, enjoy the Polka breakfast. Sounds delicious.
And always keep writing. A writer can't live with tension, but can't write without it.
Thanks Alexys, I'm gonna be makin' the blog rounds and I'll stop by yours too. I'ts good to hear from you.
"A writer can't live with tension, but can't write without it."
wow, I wish I said that. It's so good, it's so true.
You polka fans are CRAZY. When I first stated out as a radio DJ, my show came on right after the polka hour on Saturdays. Even though I played oldies...and ONLY oldies, the polka fans would call me and request songs by Happy Louie or The 6 Fat Dutchmen or bands with other great names like that. And every week I'd tell them they could only hear polka music during the polka hour. And every week they called back. They were a persistent cult of fans though!
Tack strip is a menace to all people, everywhere. The damn stuff will come and GET you, even if you're nowhere NEAR it. They should lay it instead of razor wire outside prisons and between warring factions. It's the one thing that keeps me from ripping out old carpet that needs to go. I keep thinking about the tack strip and what it's planning to do to me, once the carpet is up....
And Polka Breakfast need to find its way into something you're writing. Absolutely.
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