A while back, my favorite angry squirrel over at www.IllWillPress.com, Foamy, did a rant called "Mexico es Muy Bien" which I got a huge laugh out of. During the course of said rant, Foamy suggests that the idea of the siesta be adopted into law. While a good portion of my psyche agrees with this idea whole-heartedly, there is one notable problem with taking a mid afternoon nap, other than the obvious lack of productivity… That being the ensuing insomnia that results that following night.

Welcome to my world.

So, yeah, here I am. Awake and tapitty-tapping out a blog entry at 3:00am in the goddamn morning. "Big shock," right? Well, fuck. At least it's getting done. I've got my headphone on low, listening to some old-school Rush (Getty Lee's banshee-like wail is always good for the creative juices), and enjoying the slight buzz I've got. Fu-Witch is sleeping a few feet from me, look as beautiful as ever, totally oblivious the the rant that is about to quietly happen next to her. Tee hee.

Yes, that's right boys and girls. A rant. An old-style, soap-boxy-type, "The Reverend is Pissed!" kinda of blog entry. It's been a while. Are you excited? I am.

Now, most of you who've been reading the schlock that I public to the net on a semi-regular basis for the past few years know that I rarely talk about politics. The reason is simple. I'm apolitical. As Krakhaus once said in an episode of News of the Stupid  over on www.TerriblyWrongOnline.com, "It is my place to observe but not interfere, because I do not care." Or something to that effect. To tell you the truth, politics bores the fuck outta me. Who gets elected to an office on the Federal, State or Local levels almost never has any real effect on my life, so I let it slide.

But recently I saw a sign that filled me with such disgust that I have to rant about it. And worse, it's local and involves a character from what is now being referred to as "The Jail-Mail Saga" (soon to be republished here on this blog, and possibly on TerriblyWrongOnline.com.

That cockbiting fucktard, The Swine, is running for County Sheriff.

The first time I saw one of his campaign signs, I was out and about with Fu-Witch, and we joked about it… but the jokes were hiding the fact that I was really just about shitting myself with aggravation. We are talking about an office which, in a rural Missouri county, pulls a fair amount of weight and is supposed to represent truth, justice, integrity, and most of all character. Of the four virtues I have listed, The Swine is the living embodiment of… oh, NONE of them. [Author's Note: See, folks, this is why I use pseudonyms.] 

I've known The Swine, though not well, thanks to the fact that I never wanted anything to do with the fat fuck, for a few years now. I also know a lot of people who DO know him well. Wow! What a shithead!  The guy has cheated on his wife more times that any one human being should ever be allowed to get away with. Plus, apart from being a total ass on a personal level, professional, he was FIRED from his position at Administrator of the jail where I did my time a while back… a jail which is under direct control of the County Sheriff's Department.

That's right. Fired. For offenses that in any regular job would make a person ineligible for rehire.

Who the fuck does The Swine think he is? Marion Barry?

There is nothing to like about this candidate, and while I am not only apolitical and but also not allowed by the state of Missouri TO vote, due to my status as a felon, I'm willing in this case to do everything legally within my power to see that this piece of shit doesn't get elected. Fuck, I'd run against him myself if I was quailed for the job. The knowledge of the corruption that will be occupying a major political position on my home turf is more than I can bear. My personal experience with this man is bad enough. But the things I have heard about him are worse. (One source suggested that his desire for a semi-powerful office was because he was "compensating for something." Said source will remain nameless.

Now… to real quick sum up what this fucker did to me personally and why are coming. Be patient. I need to give you a little background first.

When I was headed to jail to do my 4 months of sitting and reading, I made arrangements with Ford W. Maverick, my co-editor for www.TerriblyWrongOnline.com and owner of http://whistlinginthegraveyard.blogspot.com/  to receive articles and blog updates from me and to publish them on both my blog and on TWO. The bad news was that, due to health issues, plus the mental health issues most artist and gamers are prone to, the updates did not happen properly. The worse news is that the guards read all the outgoing mail. I was sure to use pseudonyms, as always, but since I was writing reports about the happenings in the jail itself, anybody reading  it who know the people involved and had even a few brain cells could figure out who I was talking about.

This is how The Swine found out the name I had given him, and the fact that I called him a "cockbiting fucktard" in an article.

Well, after my medical furlough was over and I came back to finish my time (They let me out after 22 days so my foot could heal.) , I was, on The Swine's orders, put on "medical watch", which basically meant solitary confinement. This lasted for 22 days… and the only reason it ended is because my lawyer found me. The Swine was forced to put me in general  population.

I found out the following from one of the Corrections Officers two months after my release. The morning after I was put in Pod A (my cellblock), during the morning meeting the dayshift COs had with The Swine, he told him underlings that anyone who managed to get me on an "Administrative Lockdown" would get free lunch for a month. The following afternoon my cell got searched and the Cos found an extra roll of toilet paper (and one day lockdown by itself), and an extra set of pants (another one day lockdown violation), which, together, qualified me for said Administrative Lockdown, which means you are locked in your cell until the Administrator, in this case, The Swine, decided to let you out.

I was locked in my cell for another 30 days.

Fuck.

I remained on lockdown until the day The Swine was fired from his job as the jail's chief administrator. When the new administration came in, I was released from lockdown and allowed to rejoin the general population immediately.

At any rate… I told you that story to illustrate me point. Even if he wasn't a complete asshole on a personal level, and even if he is a corrupt, overcompensating, fat-assed narcissistic adulterer, you must ask yourself, "Do I really want a man who is going to abuse his power this way in a position of any kind of authority?"

Personally, I gotta say "No."

In addition to this blog entry, and the eminent posting of The Jail-Mail Chronicles, I plan to do anything and everything legally within my power to make sure that this loud-mouth, overbearing piece of human filth is never elected to a public office. If you have any ideas, or want to join the cause, please e-mail me.

Some of you a probably asking yourselves, "Where has the good Reverend been for the last month or so? What happened?" Well, for all intents and purposes, I've been on another planet.

And that planet is Montgomery City, MO.

Seriously, dear reader, this place is nuts.

Some of you who have known me for a while, know that I grew up in an urban/suburban area. I spent the vast majority of my formative year in and around the Baltimore Metropolitan area. I have proven on more than one occasion that I can survive in the Concrete Jungle. Then, for no apparent reason, I moved to the lovely little town of Warrenton, MO. The initial culture shock was pretty bad, but as Constanine once said, "When the going gets tough, the tough go native," or something to that effect.

The jump between Urban Maryland, and what I thought was rural Missouri, was bad.

Then there are places like Montgomery City. It's so totally disconnected from reality, it boggles the mind. It's like a cross between Hazard County, without the hot little county girls, and the town The Tall Man left behind in the Phantasm series. There is no Wal-mart. Much too backwater for that. There are more businesses closed on the main drag (highway 19) than there are open. The rumor mill is absolutely rampant. It is so incredibly different from te places and times I am used to that the mind veritably reels at the mere idea that I came to this little town and… fucking stayed.

Why have a spent so much time here, willingly severing my umbilical-like connection to cyberspace and the local bar scene? Well, the reasons are simple. Fu-Witch, Her offspring (whom we shall collectively call The Sweeps, Individually and The Tornado, The Hurricane, and Future Felon), and work with The Walrus, hanging drywall and a ceiling for an insane little Asian Indian man who owns a local motel (a stereo-type for this area)

Things are going really, really well with Fu-Witch. Her friends, The Foot, Chuckles, Medicine Rack,The Human Grape, and a few others all seem to like me well enough. We've all spent time hanging out and they all seem to have a good, warped sense of humor, which means I fit right in. Additionally, I've met some of her family. Her dad and step=mother seem pretty cool and I also met her sister, Frog-eyes, and her sister's girlfriend, an Amish lesbian who after meeting me, declared me "odd".

I was called "odd" by an Amish lesbian.

I'm gonna repeat that again because t is truly the pinnacle of my weirdness career.

An Amish lesbian called m "odd". How fucked up is that?

Anyway, the work thing is… well, was, pretty good, except for the fact that I spent many days I could have ben spending with my daughter waiting for The Walrus to either call or show up so we could work. Most of the time has been spent waiting for various people to call. Dancer seems to think she has some work for me, but again, waiting for the call. The only iron I have in the fire right now is work for S.O.S. Office Tools, but who knows if THAT is ever going to pay off. (Here's a hint, dear readers, there's a donation button at the top of this page. Every little bit helps.)

For the most part, I'm pretty happy. Fu-Witch is seriously spoiling my ass rotten. She rarely asks me for anything other than affection, and won't really LET me help around here too much. I've protested about this a bit, but mostly to no avail. She's also given me a new hobby and goal to aspire to… Embarassing the living shit out of her and her friends in public places. The list of things I have done is long. Too long to list in their entirely here. Some of the highlights are:

* Screaming "Stop touching me!" (a la Achmed The Dead Terrorist) at Fu-Witch at the top of my lungs in the check-out line at the grocery store.
* Humping The Foot's leg while shopping at Dollar General.
* Singing "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails in karaoke to Fu-Witch in a crowded bar.
* Generally being loud and obnoxious while out and about.

Everything is fine on the home-front, to the best of my knowledge. I haven't been there a whole bunch. Mom's computer keyboard is all fucked up and will not print Ts or Ys which has made for some pretty interesting e-mails. My Offspring is doing a bit better in school, though her attitude at home needs some vast improvement. I'm blaming the hormones. Puberty hits members of my family pretty hard, if memory serves.

Ok. So here's my current problem: May 29^th is rapidly approaching.

Yes.

My birthday.

Today is Fu-Witch's birthday, so that is a good thing. She wears the years well (she's younger than I am), but then, most women do. They age like fine wine.

I am aging like milk.

I'll be 35 at the nd of this month. Smack dab in the fucking middle of my mid-thirties. Between the actual chronology, the missing hair, the dentures, the gray hairs popping up on my chest and in my goatee (I don't know if there are any in places I cannot see… I've sworn Fu-Witch to never point them out to me) along with more foot problems from the diabetes and some other maladies, I feel more like I'm in my mid-eighties.

Oh, yeah, almost forgot that one… when the foot problems started back up, I had a cellulites infecting in my foot and leg. Most of you, my dear and contain readers, know that I have had problems such as this in the past. Well, I ended up with a high fever and after being pampered and coddled by Fu-Witch all day, Ihad to have Shrek take me to the ER in Washington to get treated. Upon arriving I was in a crowded Emergency Room waiting area with a bunch of sick and injured folks and two cranky and bitchy nurses running the show.

There's some good news.

I'm not a good patient on the best of days. The fact that these two idiots were letting their crankiness mix with their incompetence made me their worst fucking nightmare. My pulse and blood pressure were both elevated, due to the fever and the stress of not choking these retards, so when I got into the treatment room, they attached a bunch of monitors to me and left me alone. Then the doctor walks in, GLANCES at my foot and says "Well, we're definitely going to have to admit you."
"No, doctor, you're not. That is not one of your options." I replied.
"But I have to admit you."
"I'd like to play a game with you, Doc. It's called 'Hide-And-Go-Fuck-Yourself."
"What?"
So I started. "I know my rights, doctor. Apparently better than you do. I have the right to refuse your suggestion and demand another course of treatment. You cannot tell me what I 'have' to do. Here is the situation. I'm not staying here. You have one hour to treat me, come up with whatever prescription you want me to take, and suggest a doctor to follow up with. That is all. The clock is ticking, doctor."

He got flustered and walked out. I hate stupid smart-people.

Some  time later, an attractive young nurse walked in. "You're just in time," I said.
"For what, Mr. Nephilim"
I laughed. "To keep me from damaging your equipment when I take these monitors off."
"But Mr. Nephilim," she said, "we have to keep those on you to monitor your heart."
"No. They need to come off now. I'll be fine."

I now have 4 new bald spots.

She took the monitors off, and gave me a bunch of paperwork, two prescriptions, and an IV antibiotic and sent me on my way. She was easily the most competent and collected person I had encountered since I left Shrek's car.  I was home an hour and a half later.

One other incident I wish to talk about specifically here in this blog entry. That is The Bar of The Living Dead. I have truly found where bad rednecks go when they day, and it is Pit Stop in Montgomery City. I have been to some hole-in-the-wall type bars in my time. You might even say I am a bit of a connoisseur of these type of places. But, really, wow. My first time at this little gin-joint was a "triple date" with some of Fu-Witch's "friends" (And I use the term quite loosely in this case. It was the Hair Disaster, her boyfriend, and ex of Fu-Witch's, and this uber-skanky meth-head. The company I was in was, for the most part, bad enough… but the patrons at the bar were just… ew. I flatly refuse to sit down on the barstools in this place for fear of catching something antibiotics can't cure. I DO, however,  wish to return to the place at least one more time with a video camera. I can call the resulting video "Girls Gone Skeezy" and market it on the internet.

Anyway, that is it for this entry. There will be more of them, of course. Fu-Witch is a fan of my writing, as well as my singing, so I'm sure she will keep on me to post the little anticdotes that happen around here. Also, now that the teeth are in, I intend to eventually execute my plan of video blogging. In the mean time, I leave you with the following YouTube hit. Enjoy!!!!

And there they are.

The rumors of my insomnia, on the otherhand, not so much.

That's right, dear faithful, and not-so-faithful, readers. Once again, The Good Reverend has gotten his days and nights all flipped over and bass-ackwards. Not that this is anything new or news-worthy in my opinion, or the opinion of any of you readers, but After my 25th or 26th complaint about my lack of recent blog entries... well, I gotta write about something, now don't I?

Now, as to the why behind my months of silience... yes, there is a reason beyond simple laziness, though, admittedly, that was a factor. The reasons are simple really. The events that have been going on in my life have fallen into three catagories for the last 2 months.
   1) Mind-numbingly boring.
   2) Too complex to write about with any clarity.
   3) Things that will get my killed if certain people read them.
Does that clarify a bit?

I'm just being honest here... The stuff I can't talk about would piss so many of you off that it's tough to even think about, and I could really stand to have less death-threats in my life, as opposed to more.

The stuff that is too complex to get down would end up ither being long and boring, or not make any sense whatsoever, and while you might get a chuckle out of them, you wouldn't understand the situation on the whole, and since the vast majority of you are reasonably intelligent mammals, that means my inbox comments filling up with questions. Who the fuck wants to deal with that? "Not I," said The Reverend.

And what do I have after that? Blog entries that read "Got a blowjob and watched 3 episodes of Battlestar Galactica tonight." Oh. Yeah. Terribly entertaining.

The silence has been better. trust me.

So what has been going on of late that I can talk about? Well, let's see. For starters, the reason I can't sleep tonight... it's cause I'm too excited. In a little under 4 hours, The Reverend will be the prou owner of a brand new set of perfect teeth (albeit, removable ones). Thats right, kiddies. After months of waiting and not being able to chew anything tougher than a fucking Gummi Bear™, I'm finally getting my dentures this morning. I've actually already seen what they are going to look like in, thanks to the various miracles of modern technology, and I will tell you right now, it's flippin' beautiful. And yes... a picture will be posted. Probably in this blog. Probably entitled "1000 Words (Part 3)". So don't be scared when you see the title.

Also, once they are in and I've re-taught myself to speak clearly, which will probably take a week or two, I willbegin video-blogging, thanks to the technology The Colonel (formerly Dennis The Builder) gave me wen he got rid of his "old" webcam. Not only did the fucking thing have night-vison, which makes me look more demon-possessed the usual when it's engaged, but it also has a built in mic, which kicks fucking ass! It replaces the one that that psycho, Bookend's dog chewed up nicely.

I personally don't think that I have what it takes to be a talking-head... but anybody that knows me and reads this blog can tell you this; these jokes come off a lot better if you can hear my vocal intonation and see my facial expressions. That's just a fact. You can stop your internal dialogue now.

In other news, i.e. my love-life, which many of my friends are both fascinated and appalled by (Yes, I'm talking about you, Nikkita), has finally begun to stablize a bit. Past couple of months have seen a lot of dating, mostly with psychos like The Cougar, Hoover, and The Right-wing Tip.There have also been a few casual encounters both online and in person, with women like Skull, The Cam Ninja, and The Librarian. It's been a real mess, I gotta tell you. Those of you who have been standing n the side-lines for the last couple of months can attest to this. (Shrek, Nikkita, Stir-stick... yes, Im talking about you guys. Again.)

However, very recently, someone new has come into my life. I'm not going to go as far as to say I love this woman yet, but I gotta tel you folks, she's seriously spoiling me rotten. Other than a few religious differences, and the fact that her ex-brother-in-law has her computer so clogged up with adware and spyware that it makes my head spin, we get along great. I haven't come up with a good blog-name for her yet, but fr the moment, we will call her The Fu-Witch. (Don't ask.)

Ok. On the financial front... wll, I'm fucked. Plain and simple. Any donations would be greatly appreciated and WILL get you entioned in this blog. Hell, they might get you sexual favors if they're large enough. Gigs have fallen off to practically nothing thanks to the fact that The Deadly Dinosaur is still dead in a ditch at the end of the driveway. Mover and Shaker haven't had anything for me. Really, the only "job" I have right now is some potential contract work through S.O.S. Office Tools and that's about it. The Librarian has offered to help me do a little advertizing, but with Geek Squad burying me a little further under every day, I don't know how much good it's gonna do. God as my witness, every time I see one of those little VW Bugs in my town, I wish with all my heart for a shoulder-mounted rocket launcher. Law of te jungle... I should be allowed to eliminated the competition old-school-style.

On the home front, Mom and The Offspring are both well. Mom is so thoroughly addicted to eBay at this point, I think she might benefit from a 12 step program. The dining room is clogged with so many boxes and sets of silverware, I don't dare try to cross the room in the dark. Offspring is going through puberty now, which is in full swing and is causing more and more gray hairs to make their debut in my beard. Thank God I went bald years and years ago.

Anyway. Thanks for listening/reading/whatever it is you people do to this blog. More later, I promise.

The last week or two have been... Wow... I am actually at a loss for a single word to describe them.

I've been suffering from a bout with depression lately, which is bad, but has been aggrivated by the fact that I still haven't gotten dentures and thus don't want to go out in public if I can avoid it. Having gone to Wal-mart and the gas station and such, I know that nobody really notices my condition, but I can't help but feel that I have a huge neon sign over my head that reads "FORMERLY FIERCE CREATURE REPLACE BY TOOTHLESS OLD MAN BELOW", or something to that effect. I've also been really lonely, having long since dumped Enigma, charging her with "Psychotic behavior unbecoming a female human." I know I am better off without her, but damn, I've been getting lonely.

In order to alliviate the depression and loneliness a bit, I'm been spending a lot more time with Shrek of late, along with another friend of ours... a young, long-hair guitar player whom we will call in this blog, Persona Non Grata. (The naming is nothing against him personally. He's a really great guy... Shrek's dad refered to him as such when PNG accidently got his car stuck in Shrek's front yard and ended up giving him one hell of a lawn-job.) In hanging out with them, I've also met PNG's girlfriend... an 18 year old nymphomaniac with a sharp tongue and a sene of fun that makes me look even more curmudgenly then I actually am in real life. We shall call her Greenleaf (She's not a pot head or anything. She looks like a goddamn elf with one of the nicest racks I've ever seen in my life. And I've seen a lot of racks.).

Hanging out with this bunch has generated a lot of funny incidents, and a couple of bad hangovers, and a jam session or two. Here are some of said incidents, in no particular order.

• Sitting in PNG's basement with Shrek when Chatterbox shows up with her companion, Captian Spastic. We all sit around talking, with me trying to ignore CB as much as possible by way or remenising about jail with CS. CB suddenly decides that she needs to make a crack about my teeth being gone. I look at her and reply "Look, Dumbass. I may be toothless, but you, my dear, as stupid... and I can get dentures." She was so taken aback that she just sat there and toomk the insult. Didn't even attempt a comeback. I almost felt bad. Almost.
• I wake up the next morning on PNG's loveseat, curled up in a ball like the world's largest squirril, to the sound of Greenleaf ranting about being locked out of the house not 8 feet from me. This was before our being introduced. I do my best to go back to sleep, only to be awoken a few minutes later by the sound of them fucking. Ok. I admit. I snuck a peek. Wow. Great tits.
• While sitting in the back seat of Shrek's car, with PNG driving, Shrek, in the seat in front of me, decided to take a swig off of the bottle of Bacardi 151 he had purchased earlier in the evening... it was too much. He tried to spit the "shot" out the open window. Unfortunely, we were going about 45 mph, so I got the blow-back. Ew.
• Earlier that evening, PNG and Greenleaf were visiting me at home, and Grenleaf insisted on seeing some of my photos on Bessy/Hal... first time I've ever really allowed someone to play around in "The Batcave". during the course of the three of use cruising through my hard drive, we accidentally ran across a few pictures of one of my exs giving me a blowjob. It was then, in the midst of mine and PNG's peals of laughter, that Greenleaf look at me and said "Awesome! You have a really nice penis!"

Other than that, not a whole lot going on except hanging out online talking to friends... one in particular has REALLY sparked my interest, and she knows who she is. Additionally, I would like to than Cardea YET AGAIN, for another large donation to this blog. Thanks babe! Love ya!

This is what they took outta me. Ouchie.

Still wonder why I'm such a cranky motherfucker?

...mostly because there hasn't been a need. But here's some lyrics to ponder:

I know I've been mistaken
But just give me a break and see the changes that I've made
I've got some imperfections
But how can you collect them all and throw them in my face

But you always find a way to keep me right here waiting
You always find the words to say to keep me right here waiting
And if you chose to walk away I'd still be right here waiting
Searching for the things to say to keep you right here waiting

I hope you're not intending
To be so condescending it's as much as i can take
and you're so independent
you just refuse to bend so I keep bending till I break

But you always find a way to keep me right here waiting
You always find the words to say to keep me right here waiting
And if you chose to walk away I'd still be right here waiting
Searching for the things to say to keep you right here waiting

I've made a commitment
I'm willing to bleed for you
I needed fulfillment
I found what I need in you

Why can't you just forgive me
I don't want to relive all the mistakes I've made along the way
But I always find a way to keep you right here waiting
I always find the words to say to keep you right here waiting

But you always find a way
To keep me right here waiting
You always find the words to say to keep me right here waiting
And if I chose to walk away would you be right here waiting
Searching for the things to say to keep me right here waiting

"Right Here" by Staind

"Every word you read of this useless fine print is another second off your life. Don't you have other things to do? Is your life so empty that you honestly can't think of a better way to spend these moments?"

...and what does it say about me that I felt that quote was worth repeating here?

I woke up this morning in Glan Carbon, Illinois, next to a beautiful woman with whom I was very happy and content in our relationship. I woke up with a smile on my face and looked into Mary Poppins' eyes and told her I loved her. I was a little jittery and cranky from nicotine withdraw, but I was dealing with it nicely, in my opinion.

Now I'm in Warrenton, Missouri. Single again. Not really sure what happened, but I am 100% sure it was my fault. I still love her very much. I miss her like you wouldn't believe. And I think I left my heart in Illinois.

In fact, I'm sure of it.

You may all now laugh and mock my pain at your leisure. Thank you.

Yes, dear readers, bugging me to do a blog entry really does work. Blame this one on Nikkita.

Anyway, things have been going ok here in Reverend Mace's world. I'm not working as much as I would like, but I am hoping that my meeting with Mover (with a little help from his business partner, Shaker) will remedy that situation... keep your fingers crossed, send a donation, pray, encourage others to pray (as MP would say), etc. Financially, I'm still pretty much in the toilet, but that is all under the S.N.A.F.U. catagory of my life.

Situation
Normal.
All
Fucked
Up.

Mom and Offspring have returned, albeit grudgingly, from their trip to Daytona Florida where they visited with Big T and a cousin of mine that lives down there.  They apparently had a great time, though I am still waiting for Big T to send me pictures of the first time my Offspring "saw water that doen't stop"... I.E. The Ocean. Souveniers and laundry are still waiting to be shipped home.

In other news, things with Mary Poppins are going great! Gas prices are starting to be a true, unadulterated pain in the ass, but that is our only real malfunction. Every time I go to the gas pump, it is vaguely remenisent of anal rape. We've been to a few movies, including Fred Claus, and The Nightmare Before Christmas in 3-D, both of which I highly recommend... the latter because it fucking ROCKED and the former because for those of us with "big brother" issues, it was very heart-warming. We'e also done some other stuff, like the Science Center and the St. Louis Zoo that were a lot of fun, as well as a few nights of just staying in and watching movies, or House M.D., or whatever. Really, I just love spending time with her. With the exception of the birth of my daughter, meeting MP has easily been the best thing that's happened to me that I can actually remember.

Now, some of you may be aware of this, others not, but it's a pretty big deal for a lot of folks, so I'll blog about it...

TerriblyWrongOnline.com

has been updated!!!!

Yes, that's right, dear readers. I have once again resurrected our old site. Ford is back doing comic strips, and seems to be happy as a clam about it. (You know... I've never understoof that turn of phrase. How happy are clams, really?). Mobilizing the crew to do articles and suchlike was extraordinarily easy this time around, mostly due to the fact that most of them have had about 8 months to come up with things to bitch about. Go figure.

On that note, I must close this and get back to work. Need to keep Bessy updated for work reasons... that and I like the idea of being able to start up the computer and not have to jump through a bunch of "Microsoft Updates" hoops.

Yes, yes, yes… I know. I almost never blog anymore. The reasons for this are many and varied. The main reasons are as follows. For starters, I've been very happy lately. While most, including myself, would consider this a good thing, it's not very good for the ol' creative juices. If I'm not feeling miserable, I don't have near as much to write about.  Another reason I haven't been writing near as much as a complete and total lack of time to do it. You see, Mary Poppins lives over an hour away from The Bunker, so I've been spending an obscene amount of time on the road and putting the Deadly Dinosaur through levels of abuse that will one day be the stuff of songs and legends told around campfires by the evil robots that will one day exterminate humanity and take our place as the dominant life-form on the planet. And last, but not least, when I am not spending time en route to MP or with MP, or my Offspring, I'm either working, or chasing down more work. All important endeavors.

Plus, I really just haven't been feeling it lately. Sorry.

Now, a brief update before I get to the meat and reason for this particular blog entry.

Things are going great with MP. Beautifully, in fact. I could be happier, but it would be illegal in 38 states, plus Mexico and Canada. Kudos again to Nikkita for getting my dumb ass over on OKcupid.com where I met my MP. You rock! (See? Told you I'd do it. :-P) I've been getting a bit more work, but not enough, really. It's NEVER enough, when it comes down to it. I've gotten so far behind in my bills and suchlike that barring a large influx of money (i.e. DONATIONS), I really don't have a prayer in the world of actually getting caught up any time soon.

Activities with MP have included several movies, a weekend at Six Flags' Fright Fest with her niece and my Offspring, her meeting my mother, a couple of karaoke nights, and general hanging out.

Now…

Last night, Mary Poppins was not feeling very well and we were supposed to be preparing for the American Legion's Halloween Trivia Night (costumes are under construction, but our table seems to have a medical theme… I'm going as a psychotic, smart-ass, vicodin-addicted, pedophile, killer doctor. MP is going as a dead candy-striper.). A cold dish needs to be brought, and since MP was feeling "puny", I was sent to Shop & Save all by my lonesome for the ingredients for MP's crab-dip.

At 11:30pm.

On a Friday night.

Now, as I was wondering aimlessly around the store, wondering where the hell the Wheat Thins were kept, I discovered something. That something is that sometimes, late at night, weird events occur that, thanks to my sordid history, I am uniquely capable of handling on a psychological level. I have a history of drug use and weirdness occurring around me…

So when the nun in bondage gear walked up to me and asked, "Excuse me sir, but have you seen a Playboy bunny with a mustache pushing a shopping cart full of booze?" I was simply able to say, "Aisle three, ma'am" without batting an eye.

Hell, it didn't even strike me as a strange occurrence until I was out in the car on my way back to MP's house. The only thing that struck me as strange while I was still in the store was that I seemed to be the only person in the store at that late hour who WASN'T buying booze.

College town. Go figure.

Well, this week started off freaky, and there is no end in sight to said freakiness, so I guess I'll just have to deal with it.

Monday, I thought, was going to be a complete waste, and for the most part, it was. I didn't get to see my MP, which sucked. I had gotten my last blog entry done, which turned out to be six pages long when printed. Kudos to all of you who read the whole thing. It got a fair amount of good comments and I thank you all for that. I would also like to express Great Appreciation to an individual who shall remain nameless unless they make themselves known in comments who made a VERY large donation to this blog!!! Thanks a lot, dude. You cannot imagine what a big help that was!

Really, other than getting that donation from my new hero, talking to my sweetie on the phone and finally catching up with Nikkita, I really just spent most of Monday waiting for Tuesday to happen.

Now, Tuesday was a great day. Sort of. It started out a wee bit rough. I had a great deal of trouble sleeping on Monday night, so I overslept on Tuesday... and awoke to the sound of my Offspring screaming in the kitchen. Needless to say, I jumped out of bed to see what the hell was going on and found that my Offspring had managed to slam her hand in the door of my mother's Explorer.

Greaaaaaaaaat...

So, Mom and Offspring and I piled into the Exporer and headed down to Washington to get my daughter's hand x-rayed. The doctor we took her to seemed like a pretty nice guy... even though he looked like he had graduated medical school at some point last week. I hate it when those fuckers are so obviously younger than me. Anyway. No broken bones. No bleeding. Just swelling and she's sore as all hell.

By the time we returned to Warrenton, dropped Offspring off at school, got what we needed to get at Wal-mart, and got home, I had spent the entire morning in close-quarters with Mom. Now, don't get me wrong here, I love my mom. She's a trooper. But these past couple of months, for obvious reasons, Mom's been a little crazier than usual. The original plan had been to head for Mary Poppin's place around 3:00 or so, thus putting me there just as she was getting off work.

This plan was revised.

When we got ome, I showered, changed, got in the truck and headed for Glen Carbon. Way fucking early. The revised plan was to get there uber-early, hang out at Wal-mart in my truck and read my book till MP got off of work. I was in communication with MP in transit, so she knew what was going on. The drive down was uneventful, and when I arrived, I went into the Wal-mart to kill some time.

This is where things started to get really good. I was walking out of the store with my headphones on, listening to the Ramones, off in my own little world. As I was leaving, I see this very pretty little blonde walking towards the door, and I think to myself, Wow... she looks a lot like my sweetie. As I start to walk by, said pretty blonde gets this look on her face as if to say "Are you gonna stop or not?"

Turns out, the reason that this vision of loveliness looked so much like MP is that it was MP.

Oops.

So, once I recovered from my initial shock, she got a good laugh at my expense and explained that she'd gotten off work early and had come to Wal-mart to surprise me. Well, she succeeded. Big-time.

We went back to her place. Hung out for a while. Had dinner. Watched Surf's Up, which was a really cute movie. Watched House, as planned. Had a long, heart to heart talk which, like anything else that happened, is none of your damn business and will not be posted in this blog. Sorry, folks. No juicy details. Deal with it.

I will, however, say this. I am a little more in love with this woman every day.

Anyway, I ended up leaving around midnight for the long and arduious drive home. It was a pretty easy drive if you don't count the three times I was almost killed by truckers hopped up on amphetamines. I arrived home at about 1:30am, called MP to let her know I'd gotten home safely, and headed off to bed.

Wednesday and Thursday (today), have both sucked. Spending a lot of time on the phone and trying to find a day-job to suppliment my meager income from my business, rather unsuccessfully. What can I say? No matter how talented and charismatic I am, nobody wants to hire a felon with bad teeth.

The only bright spots in the last two days, other than spending time on the phone with Mary Poppins, has been watching 300, Clerks 2, and the Jeff Dunham DVDs I borrowed from MP on my last visit.

Seriously can't wait for this weekend to start so I can get out of Warren county and see her again.