A Dangerous Man

Some College Girl

Thu, 22 Feb 2007 14:21:26 GMT

She had the song "Date Rape" as her ringtone

Taunters

Sat, 06 Jan 2007 18:45:05 GMT

I have seen part of the Sadam execution and I have come to this conclusion. I'm still not sure if we should should execute people...but if we do it anyway, I think there should be a person to taunt the person about to be killed. This IS punishment afterall.

I would like to apply for the job as Taunter

Another Myth for a Dead Guy

Thu, 04 Jan 2007 15:14:19 GMT

Why do people lie about dead Presidents.

I have heard several times this last week that Gerald Ford "Healed" the nation by pardoning Nixon. Maybe he healed the Republican Party, but the nation still hasn't recovered from Watergate. The way our government treats us (and visa/versa) remains fundamentally different than it was prior to Watergate. Ford robbed the nation of a chance to hold accountable a man who betrayed the Presidency. That makes it much easier for others to betray us as well.

Polar Bears

Thu, 28 Dec 2006 14:29:47 GMT

Good News!

Polar Bears are about to be place on the Endangered Species List.

Our War against this evil animal is almost over. Soon we shall destroy them all. Rejoice.

Mon, 25 Dec 2006 15:16:27 GMT

My mom died ten years ago today.

She loved Christmas

Shopping

Sun, 24 Dec 2006 16:28:46 GMT

So, somebody asked me the other day if I have finished my Christmas shopping.

Yeah, ten years ago.

Time Off

Tue, 19 Dec 2006 19:00:21 GMT

I am taking today off. This is only the second day off I have taken in the last two and a half months. Otherwise I work 12 hours a day, seven days a week.

I have no idea what to do.

Thanksgiving

Fri, 24 Nov 2006 15:16:08 GMT

I was reminded of the thankgiving of some years ago. My father said a kind of open grace, in which we were thankful for this country that we live in.

My wife piped up "What about the native Americans?"

To which my father replied, "Oh Yes...we are thankful for victory over our enemies"

Wildlife

Thu, 23 Nov 2006 20:14:16 GMT

So a few weeks ago I was sitting in my cab out near the airport (which is north of town). It was the last real warm day of the year. I was just reading my paper, listening to the radio and killing time, when I heard a weird clicking noise from outside the cab. I looked up to see a Roadrunner, its claws clicking against the asphalt, chasing after a moth. I have never seen a roadrunner outside of a zoo (or a cartoon) and I didn't even think they lived this far north, but it was undoubtedly a roadrunner. A little taller than a rooster, with long, very powerful legs. The son of a bitch looked almost insane the way he ran around crazily going after prey, an sprial/zig-zag, that lasted about ten minutes around my cab, then abruptly ended when the bird saw something it wanted in the distance and ran like Hell until it was out of view.

Didn't see any coyotes.

Disturbing Trend in Film

Sun, 19 Nov 2006 16:30:03 GMT

As I mentioned in my last post I have been to two films lately. I just realized something about them:

In both films (Borat and Casino Royale) there are naked men...but there are no naked women.

I demand more naked women and fewer naked men. That is the proper way to make a film.

Movie-Going Fool

Sat, 18 Nov 2006 17:28:08 GMT

So I have gone to two movies this last week. Which is two more that I have been to in the last two months.

I saw Borat, liked it alot. I sure you've heard the buzz about this already, but let add mine to the din.

Last Night I saw Casino Royale. I hated Pierce Brosnan as Bond. I like this new guy. It is an incredibly dark gritty film. It would not sirprise me if it got Oscar talk.

...oh...and 007 gets his balls beaten....you don't want to miss that.

Old Song

Wed, 15 Nov 2006 21:28:23 GMT

So a couple of weeks ago I was waxing on the songs that you hear when you are a child. Songs that seem to have no origin. I'm sure you have some of your own. They are quite often parodies of popular songs. "Couldn't Believe my eyes at the burning of the School" sung to the tune of "John Brown's Body".

I have found that the dirtier the song, the better I remember it. But there was one (a non-dirty one) that I could remember. Sung to the tune of "On Top Of old Smoky"

On top of spagetti, all covered with Cheese
I lost my poor meatball whne somebody sneezed
It rolled off the table and onto the floor
and then my poor meatball, it rolled out the door....

For the life of me I couldn't remember the rest of it. I asked everybody I knew "How does that song end?" and none of them knew. They were calling their friends and family and nobody knew.

But then...

I called Mike Mcgee (a/k/a/johnnyappledog)

He knew the last two lines immediately.

Do you?

Marriage Ban

Wed, 08 Nov 2006 16:15:17 GMT

So of all the states that propsed banning same sex Marriage, only Arizona rejected the ban.

Frankly I don't think the ban went far enough. I will not be satisfied untill ALL marriage is banned.

Thu, 02 Nov 2006 13:48:06 GMT

I going to Tourettes Without Regrets tonight in Oakland (201 Broadway) and I'm taking my lesbian with me.

What Would You Do?

Fri, 22 Sep 2006 22:37:14 GMT

Here's the scenario

You must kill one person or you will be killed.

Here are the rules.

You get a get out of jail free card. You will not be punished for killing this one person.
It must be a real living person (no Hitlers or Jesus Christs)
You will be given 24 hours to kill this person (or top be killed)
You will be provided with the weapons/tools that you need including military equipment or execution devises. The weapons must actually exist you can't use a Stars Wars Blaster.
The person you kill (or who kills you) must be able to see and know what's going on. That you are the one killing (or being killed).
While the manner of death can be extreme it must be realistic.
If it is someone famous use their name. If it isn't (whether you use their name or not) give some info about them, i.e. My ex-spouse or my neighbor who has loud parties.

WARNING: Because of the current laws in the USA restricting free speech DO NOT select the president. That would be illegal to say or post. I will just assume that more than half of you would choose him and go with your second choice.

HERE GOES...

IF YOU CHOOSE TO KILL

Who do you kill? why him/her?
How do you kill them? why that way?

IF YOU CHOOSE TO BE KILLED

Who kills you? why do you select them.
How do they kill you? Why that way?

Sign Seen on Door

Tue, 19 Sep 2006 21:58:07 GMT

He who enters here is a stranger but once...

...After that he is a defendant or a corpse

Sept. 11

Mon, 11 Sep 2006 20:25:28 GMT

Today marks two years I have been in Chico.

Shitty things seem to happen on this day.

Fish Enabler

Sun, 02 Jul 2006 17:25:21 GMT

So the day, on my day off, it was very hot here in Chico California. I decided I would take the poverty route to coolness and went down to the park here (Bidwell Park) in a section called Hooker Oak (the oak is gone and I saw no hooker), where Chico Creek cuts through. There is usually a large number of children in the area but it was a week day and I got there early so I thought I could avoid most of them.

I went out into the creek and, after swimming around a bit, sat in the water near the bank and just enjoyed the coolness. As I was sitting there crossed-legged, rather buddha-like, up to my waist in water, I noticed that the minnows were finding me interesting. There was a school of about twenty of them, all facing me, about 4-8 inches in front of me. It was as though I was teaching the class.

I remained still and quiet (as I tend to do when I am in a "Natural" setting") and just letting events unfold around me, as they usually do.

After about a half hour I noticed a tickling on my right thigh/calf where they meet at the knee when one is sitting cross-legged. Something (bigger than a minnow) was using me for cover. The minnow had remained enthralled with me and hadn't moved at all.

Suddenly there was a swift movement from the creature hiding under my leg. It was a 4-5 inch trout. It grabbed a minnow and dashed back to its hiding place under my leg. The minnows scattered for a moment then returned to their place in front of me. After a couple of minutes the trout dashed out again and ate another minnow, then hid again. This happened one more time while I remained completely still. Then a group of loud children showed up and scared the minnows away.

And the trout never thanked me

World Cup

Wed, 28 Jun 2006 16:25:18 GMT

Gawd, Soccer is BORING!

Ice Cream Article

Sat, 24 Jun 2006 16:33:16 GMT

The local rag ran an article on my boss a couple of weeks ago.

http://www.newsreview.com/chico/Content?oid=oid%3A57637

The blue truck is identical to the one that I drive. The reason they interviewd him and not me (other than the fact that it's his company) is that while I would tell them the truth, I might not tell them the right thing

i.e. Brian mentions that some parents don't like to buy ice cream for their children because they don't wnat them to eat sugar, or processed food, or maybe they just don't have enough money. But I would tell the the real reason. No matter what A parent says the reason they don't get an ice cream for their children is becuase they hate their children. I tell the kids this.

LIL RAGAMUFFIN I AM DRIVING SLOWLY BY: My mommy wouldn't let me buy an ice cream.

MENTULA: That's because she hates you.

It's important that the children know this so that they can develope strategies for survival.

I also tell the kids, "Don't let them know you are on to them. That could be fatal. Just take some money from you mommie's purse when she's not looking and come see me to some some ice cream and advise."

New Day

Wed, 21 Jun 2006 16:28:43 GMT

The Mic-Less Open Mic has changed days. Starting tonight it will be held Wednesdays, same time 8ish pm, same place HasBeans Coffee shop 501 Main Street, Chico, CA.

Happy Solstice

Eureka

Sat, 17 Jun 2006 16:44:39 GMT

At last, lj made the user pic section easy enough for me to figure out

Fictionalization

Thu, 15 Jun 2006 16:26:59 GMT

There are more parts to this story. I am not going to post them here.

She knocked on the door, a prearranged knock: rap, pause, rap-rap, pause, rap-rap-rap. Six seconds passed. She heard the deadbolt slide. The door was now unlocked. She counted slowly to ten. She opened the door, expecting it to creak. It didn't. That disappointed her.

The room was dark. She could feel the presence of another person, at least one, but she couldn't see anyone. She just knew they were there.

She closed the door, cutting off the meek red light of the neon "vacancy" sign. The room was now pitch black. With her back to the room she faced the door. This was also prearranged.

Feeling the door she took a half step back, spread her feet about two feet apart, pressed her palms against the door and leaned forward, he entire weight on the door. The sam posture as a suspect about to be patted down by the police.

She tried to speak, but she was too nervous. The word wouldn't come out. She cleared her throat and managed to speak a hoarse "Ready".

That was it. She had no more instructions. She waited.

Eventually she felt a hand on the small of her back. It startled her and she almost slipped and fell. The hand was joined by another, to the right. The hands felt their way up her back, to her neck, to her head. They combed through her hair, then reached around to her face, each hand locating one of her eyes. The right hand pulled away while the left remained on her left eye. The right hand returned, holding something, cloth, soft: a blindfold. The hands put the blindfold on her. It was fuzzy. It tickled her a bit.

The hands left her. She heard a click. The light had been turned on. The person (people) in the room now had light and could see. Her room was still dark.

Another clicking sound. Not as loud as the light switch, more metallic. Then a rubbing noise. It took a moment but she identified it as a straight razor being sharpened on a leather strap.

rub, stop, rub, stop, crack of the strap being pulled taut, rub, stop...

This lasted about two minutes. Her wrists were starting to tire.

The noise stopped. Someone moved behind her.

She felt cold metal on the back of her neck. She gasped. For a second she thought it was the sharp side of the razor on her flesh. It wasn't. It was the dull side.

The metal moved down her spine, cutting down the middle of her shirt. It passed over her bra, not cutting it, and continued until her shirt was completely split down the back.

The razor then moved to her left should and cut the arm of her shirt. It repeated itself on the right shoulder. Her shirt fell to the floor.

The razor got playful, still the dull side to her skin, it danced around in swirls and spirals, then effortlessly cutting the left bra strap. It danced some more, then the left bra strap. More dancing.

The metal left her skin. It returned a few seconds later, just between her shoulder blades. It was touching lighter now, less pressure, almost like a butterfly. the steel didn't feel so cold.

It started to move and she realized that the reason it didn't feel as cold was because there was less of it touching her.

It was the sharp side of the razor on her back, moving very slowly, very deliberately. Not hard enough to cut her...unless the holder of the blade misjudged or slipped or if she moved.

She wanted to move. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run away, but she couldn't even breathe. Any movement would drive the blade into her flesh. Her arms were tiring. She didn't think she could do this much longer.

But the holder of the razor was in no hurry. The blade took its time and drew designs. three times the edge touched hard enough to cut tiny cuts that each drew a bead or two of blood.

The blade finally reached its target, there was a slight ripping sound as it cut through the bra, just to the left of the clasps.

The bra started to fall off her, but the nervous sweat under her breasts held it for a moment. Then it dropped to the floor.

There was no contact for a while. Some movement behind her. A cloth touched her back, absorbing the tiny drops of blood from the little cuts. A tinkling sound. Another touch on her back that stung and made her gasp. It was iodine. She could tell from the smell.

The iodine was both comforting and troubling.

Comforting in that it showed that they/he/she didn't want her wound to become infected.

Troubling because they had used iodine instead of a gentler antiseptic.

That confirmed something she had known all along, but for the first time she felt at the pit of her gut:

Whoever was in the room wanted her to feel pain.

Ice Cream Stories

Sun, 11 Jun 2006 04:39:27 GMT

So the other day I mentioned that I was emotionally raw. I won't get into detail on that right now, but here's how I knew I was emotionally raw.

I was driving the ice cream truck through a neighborhood. A little girl (7ish) and her father came up to the truck, bought some ice cream and left. As she was leaving with her father she turned and gave me the sweetest smile (I know she was smiling at the ice cream man and not me), and it made me cry...which was cool, but a surprise.

I am thinking of openining another lj for ice cream stories...except I don't have enough time to post me usual stuff.

Anyway, another ice cream man story.

Today I am going into the parking lot of low income apartments. A four year old boy is following me along as I get to the place where I turn around and park. There was some palstic thing (one of those collars you put on a dog with a broken leg I think) lying right where I needed to turn. So I called out to the lil guy "Could you move that for me?" and he called back,

"Anything for you Mr. Ice Cream Man."

And that's when I realized that I could become Fagan.

Tue, 06 Jun 2006 01:57:51 GMT

I have been very emotionally raw lately. When I get a few free minutes I post more on this.