Monday, September 29, 2014


Been told I should post this.  And, you know, blog.

Aaaahhh, back in the day. 
When the whole family went to church for three hours every Sunday morning, and grandma just stayed and prayed so hard for another two hours for someone to get her off the kneeler. 
When children went outside, and with nothing more than a cardboard box, 37 pounds of black powder, and a dream, built a rocketship to the stars. 
When the neighborhood dog, suspiciously well fed in a neighborhood bereft of songbirds, would lick your face when he saw you on the way home from the measles party and two weeks before the measles party. 
When a man took care of his family by giving his paycheck to his high school sweetheart who then used it to pay bills and buy cleaning supplies and groceries and make supper and wrap Joey’s skinned knees in ducttape until next Thursday because Dad’s dues were due for his duties at the Kiwamoose Club. 
When mother watched her stories on the television, wrapped in a blanket on the couch cross-legged, like an Native American tribal leader, hands nowhere to be seen.
When little girls took 17 hours to make a cupcake with a 40W bulb, and when boys read adventure books such as the Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew crossover Nancy Has To Go See Her Aunt For The Next Eight Months, and Tom Swift Goes Frog-Gigging.
I may cry. Hold me.

By the way, read the Zombie and the Beer Snob. Coupla decent cats.


  1. By the way, read the Zombie and the Beer Snob. Coupla decent cats.

    "Decent" is fine as far as it goes, and it may actually apply to Mr. Zombie, but I expect a formal apology and retraction for you associating me with in any way with the feline menace.

  2. And I am in no way a cat.

    well, I have whiskers. And I sleep a lot. And will bite you if you pet me wrong. And get testy when my food is late. And purr when I sleep, even if most people call it snoring. And sleep a lot.

    OK, I am a cat. But not Decent.

  3. Evwybuddy wuvs my piddies!

    Except for my parents, who, having grown up as country folk, see cats as an only occasionally useful mousing machine and general creators of ass pain. So.

    When mom and dad are here, where can one find the cats? No extra credit for getting it in one.

    1. Incessantly harassing your 'rents, right? They're a menace. The cats, that is, although I don't know your parents, so...

  4. Yanno, blogging is easier if you don't let it get all on top of you, and you feel like you need to put all the posts in one.

    I recommend extra videos. Also, review your life. I am going to be doing one on the Revenge Of The Mekons documentary, after I see it a second time on Tuesdai....