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Thoughts on life and society can be pointless, but that's what books are for. I've never enjoyed reading. It's always been difficult for me to read. Sometimes, I imagine little demons pulling at my eye lids. The Devil is in the details. I like people, who can act. They're fun to watch. I guess I wish I could be an actor, but I just don't have that charm and I stutter. My life is meaningless. I just lope from one place to another. I think that's my strength. Most people need a career and family. .. Family is a nice idea, but I've never had a nice family. Is this becoming annoying? ... Let's start with Vertago! He's cool and a stud. He also is popping up a lot in my movie watching. The mind can make association: like is the guy on the radio talking to me? Or why am I seeing so many eye balls in my movie watching? Jeeeze! I just saw CASE 39. A really scary movie with an eye ball scene that's very icky. This guy has a hornet come up out of his eye's lid.. tear duck. Any who, it's scary. Well, when I was Veratgo on Private Games.com my picture was of my left eye. It was trippy. Just a note to the CASE 39 writers: Lilith is not evil. I'm talking about Adam's first wife, expelled from Eden, because she "Would not be his beast of burden." Lilith is the first feminist in Bible Lore, she is immortal. So you can't drown her. Nope, only God can stop her. Okay, this Vertago guy is still effecting me. Strangers will look at me and cover their right eye, cars will shut one headlight off. That's dangerous! I had an elderly woman pinch my butt an call me "Vertago." in the mall. There was a Vertago concert. There is a Vertago song by U2. I started writing about Vertago in the 90's on an Australian web site Private Games.com. That's when I was working at Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart was awful. I had an over night manager slap me in the face. I just wish people would stop dropping pennies around me. I mentioned that Abraham Lincoln is looking to the right, while all the other presidents are facing to the left, because he was assassinated. Now, I get penny's dropped around me. I wish I had mentioned the dollar bill and the star of David over the eagel's head. It has twelve stars in it for the twelve Apostles. Feel free to throw dollars at me. Reflections: I wasn't completely honest about what I said about the penny. I was quoting the old Civil war lore Lincoln was facing right because he freed the slaves and turned his back on the brotherhood. That's what I wrote on Private Games.com. I'm not in favor of slavery. |
| I am not happy about this milestone. My dad lived till 87 and my mom died from cancer at 65.. I have maybe 3o years left. I can't think of anything to brag about. It's just a big waste. As I've said before in previous chapters, I have no plan. I don't even want to have kids. Most of the people I've grown up with are divorced or in prison or dead. They wanted to have kids and they got-em in spades. A girl I was smitten with Liz Darling got married and had a daughter and got divorced and raised her daughter as a single mother. Liz is a nurse and her daughter is married now. I don't know if the daughter has kids.. Just another milestone. A buddy of mine Chris Warren told me his friend drove his pick up to the beach and shot himself in the head. Chris had been through a nasty divorce and had loss everything he'd worked for. He told me his friend was in a similar situation when he suicided at 56. I told Chris not to beat himself up and keep plugging away. Chris quit his job and I haven't heard from him 2 years. I hope he didn't do it, like his friend. As far as I can tell; this is all there is. I like to watch movies and have some fun. That isn't all I have to say about my life. I cared for my mom, when she couldn't clean or dress herself. That was 5 years of my life that I think I did some good. Mom was very grateful .. She and dad were afraid a nursing home would take all their savings. This was my introspective period in my writing. The result is what you read here. Okay, I'm not Yeats! But, I think, therefore, I am writing! Jesus, some people tick me off. My surviving sister never has anything positive to say. She's pissed, because I'm writing about our dirty secrets.. So freaking deal with it! I'm not a monster. I'm just different.. Abby normal :) This blog is a bit chaotic and that's me all over-ah! Happy Birthday in a little while.. I'm so freaking happy! I shit my pants! ^ + # V   |
I had mixed feelings about Tony. It was obvious they were in love and it was also obvious Tony had a violent criminal past. His nose had been broken by a rifle butt; not in Vietnam, but in a street fight in his teens. Tony had gotten a deferment from a criminal sentence to the army, but he chose to go AWOL. . I had an English teacher at U-Mass, who dodged his draft too. Mr. Rutter went to Canada, rather than answer his draft notice to Vietnam. It's hard to remember how controversial that police action was back in the 70's. But, I guess my sis is lucky to have someone, who loves her. Nowadays, my sister and I hardly ever talk .. ~~~ <^>  |
| I first met "A Go Go" in my high school years. She was very pale and petite. She refused to give me or my friend Michael any other name than~ "A Go Go." A GoGo lived at the Fresh Pond Towers in Cambridge Massachusetts. We liked to go there for $20 blow jobs. Sometimes I would visit my friend Tim Condon. He lived with his mom, who was divorced and a part time temp office worker as well as a prostitute. The Fresh Pond Tower was a maze of prostitution and drug dealers. A GoGo liked to play on the steps inside the towers with a lot other kids. We met A GoGo there. She gave Michael and me free sex. But, I stilled felt obligated to pay her $20. I can't say my mom would approve. A GoGo looked very young, but she had round full white breasts. Your guess is as good as mine. A GoGo said she lived with her dad, because her mom was a junky. Her dad worked on construction. He was molesting her, but she called it love. She felt she was his new wife and had to help him. A GoGo would make money, giving blow jobs in the parking lot. It was very hard to talk to her. She didn't stand still. She kept jumping and dancing. She liked to kick at us and extend her arms like a pinwheel. I don't think we took advantage of her. She liked to have sex and put her feet in my face. I always use a condom. So, it was safe. Mike and I were in high school and it was very hard to get a date. The bullies had knives and guns. This was a welcomed outlet and safe.. Michael liked to dress like a girl sometimes. No one cared about it at the Fresh Pond Towers. They assumed he was hooking. I look at Lady GaGa and remember A GoGo. Strange how everything seems to repeat itself. .. Well, a gotta a gogo! ~~~ <^> |
| I've seen plenty of boobies. I guess for me there a visual effect more than a sensual one. I'm not that great a lover. Basically, I look at the fullness and firmness and cup them with my hands as I suckle. Of course, the lady will tell me if she enjoys this. Women are not shy anymore. They will tell you exactly what to do with your pecker. I really enjoy the foreplay. Once, I lady starts dancing naked, I'm saluting. It's not like I say to myself, "It's time for an erection." It just happens; to give an example of bizare moments; I'm watching Batman Returns and and Batman's old girl friend gives me a chubby. She has a Miss Piggy face, but her boobies swing as she walks. That's all it took. Boobies aren't all I notice. For instance, there's is a girl I know, who kind of has a face like a Keebler Elf and she has tiny boobies. But, her legs are very long and slender. That gets the little general up too. All of which leads to sex. And I've never had good exciting porn sex. Nope, I just get exhausted and lay under the babe as she bounces on my pogo stick. I enjoy it... I don't think that's every woman's fantasy.. I remember seeing my friends mother's boobies and they were awesome .. Her husband had photographed her naked and hung enlarged framed photos in their living room. My friend Michael was sarcastic, "That's my mom. Dad wants to send the photos to Hustler." Michael was a strange teenager. Then again so was I. Michael wanted to be female and he liked to dress up. I think he was envious of his mother's large boobies. His dad was a Harvard Psychology Professor and liked to smoke hash. Maybe he was high when he took the photos? It's really odd how self conscious my sister's were about their boobies. My sister Maura showed her boobies to me and my second sister. Well, my second sister thought they were gross and started drinking lots of milk to have better boobies. We were just kids. Later, as they entered puberty they thought it was creepy how guys would stare at them. To wit I queried, "Well don't you want to be attractive?" They did, but they didn't know how to handle it. Of course when the dating started they couldn't get enough attention sometimes it was bad. I've always liked swinging boobies. The way they sway side to side. That's very peaceful. But, I've notice most women don't want me staring too long at their knockers. Even if they're wearing push up bras... . Perplexing. I actually had sexual contact with with Michael's mother's boobies. I was about 12 and she noticed me staring and asked if I wanted to touch them. I reached out and squeezed my friend's mom's boobies. I was so hard. She told me I should cup them. Those boobies had weight. God that was fantastic. In retrospect, Michael's mom was probably trying to break up my sexual relationship with her son. Michael was born gay with a female brain. I was confused. But, I definitely enjoyed feeling up his mom's boobies. His sister Rachael had hardly any boobies, but she loved to have them squeezed. There was nothing to cup. Well, I think boobies are sexy. I'm just not a great juggler. (^)(^) |
| This is a fellow that you just can't forget. He's reductive. Let's start with his organ transplants; a pancreas and kidney and liver and he's a heavy drinker. He's lost his license to DWI. His arms are covered with needle marks from insulin injections. He experiences white outs caused by diabetic shock. He has gone blind for days. And he's working at the Home Depot. Needless to say, the management at the Portsmouth Home Depot are concerned about Kevin. Dian Bova ordered Kevin to restack sixty 90 pound bags of cement. Dian was the lumber manager. Kevin could not refuse, since he needs his Home Depot insurance. The store manager Nick Lapoint insisted that Kevin not inject his insulin in the lunchroom or anywhere he could or anywhere he could be seen. That was a store policy. Kevin could only inject himself in a mensroom stall or his car and on a scheduled break. Kevin called the HR and she told him Home Depot "Was not a nursing home." Kevin called the New Hampshire Labor board and Nick Lapoint set up a table for Kevin in the hallway outside the store manager's office. Kevin can take his insulin there even between breaks. That's how most stores respond to associate complaints. They have to be threatened with a law suit before they'll concede anything. Nice? Kevin had angry outbursts in the lunchroom and get written up. He called me a "Mother Fucker!" I don't think he was angry with me. It was probably his miserable life that enraged him. He freely admits he is going nowhere. Eventually, some Home Depot manager will think of way to fire him or break him and that will be the end of Kevin. He is protected under the National Employees with Disability Act. I have to smile when I see Home Depot commercials. All those smiling actors. But, I know better. They're Wal-Mart with lumber. They want to keep the payroll down and the sales up. That's all Home Depot cares about. Just go down to the Portsmouth Home Depot and look at all the young smiling faces. The company recently fazed out most of the 50-65 year old floor associates. That's just good business .. Right? Well, I like to shop there you can't beat the prices! I haven't seen Kevin lately. I hope he's okay. He's a little guy and he drags his right leg. If you see him say hi! >696< + ^ V |
| It is a human peculiarity to believe that our lives have great importance. Of course death or disfigurement are real threats that we should consider seriously as we merge into the highway. But, in the the great interstate of history our lives are not going to make a bump. Most of us are road kill. "In a hundred years son, no one will care what we did." Dad spoke with a tremendous voice. So. I'm at the public library again trying to get online to my bank to figure out why my Comcast is on a soft disconnect. But, I'm using a public computer and the bank wants to ask me security questions, which I've forgotten. Meanwhile, Mr. Bernette(I watched him sign in on the library clip board for a computer) is making bird calls: little beep and chirps. I've seen him before. It's not too easy to forget a very annoying Chirp! Does he think this is cute? Maybe he has Touretts. Whatever the cause of his chirping you would think a librarian would tap him on the shoulder an shhh him. They ignored him. I gave up on trying to remember my secret answers.. I walked to my truck and got my magnifying glass to read the microscopic phone number on my bank card. Do these banks seriously believe those tiny numbers are legible? Oh? We're sorry we had a error in your direct deposit. Do you have access to a computer? Fuck No! Well, happy ending I drove down to the nearest Comcast center 40 miles away and made a payment in cash... That's the ticket! I think Mr. Bernette was following me.. I could hear his chirps! He has no idea what I think about his chirping. Well, he would now if he cared to read this blog. But, this is not important. No one cares about the ramblings of a disturb burned out newspaper delivery boy.... . Do they? Nah. |
"Let's keep it real." is a popular phrase. How many Angels can sit on the head of a pin? Answer: How the fuck should I know? I've had theological discussions with plumbers and Priests: Christians and Buddhist and Muslim. It never can be resolved, because you don't have anything concrete. Tonight on the David Letterman Show; an Angel Lucifer. Lucifer will be performing his new album, Anarchy. Dave' s Top Ten List; Top Ten Ways to know your going to Hell. Number ten: you write a top ten list about Hell. Back in the 70's Johny Carson was king of the night. He actually had Tiny Tim and Ronald Reagan on his show. Lately, I've been musing about God and the sacred feminine with a hippie hobo. He is a suspiciously well kempt hippie and reminds me of a narc. There were a lot of undercover cops in my adolescent youth; 1975-ect. You get a radar on Serpico.(It's a 80's flick with Al Pacino... sigh.) Well, this hippie I met is obsessed with the sacred feminine, which is rare. Most hippies are obsessed with marijuana. "I know God is working to make us better, but he/she can't get passed kicking ass. I think the woman in God wants to love, but he has to show us who's boss." the hippie said to me. Then, he'll go on about mathematics and his fucked up life. I like him. He's funny like a hobo trani. But he does give off that narc vibe. His teeth are very white for a vagrant and he's wearing good shoes and he has cash. Maybe, I've attracted the attention of the Fibbies. (A nickname for the FBI in the..70's. God am I old.) OKAY! LETS GET DOWN! Definition of God- Perfect, "The works of God are perfect and just." Genesis. Nirvana, "God is everywhere and nowhere." Islam, "There is one God and Mohammed is His prophet." You know you can start your own religion? Yup all you need, according to the IRS is at least a hundred followers, then you get tax exempt status. Cool huh? OKAY! KNOWLEDGE IS SUBJECTIVE! Sorry Ellen Degeneres you are a pervert, by Judeo/Christian definition. The dictionaries were written by Protestant and Catholic organizations. So, homosexuality is defined in my Webster dictionary as a sexual perversion. Words are ideas and ideas are religion. Religion is not democratic it is dogmatic. I went through Catholic Catechism Dogmatic Indoctrination for my Conformation. My first question was, "Why should I believe this?" The answer was believe it or get out. Deuteronomy 24:16 "The children shall not be punished for their father's sin." Try and square that with Original Sin. Why did we all sin in Adam? Is sin hereditary? If it is, then, there is no free will and we are not responsible for our actions. Criminals could be transferred to the mental hospital for the criminally insane. If a just man takes the place of a criminal on the gallows, is that justice? Jesus died for our sins, but has this stopped people from sinning? If you follow Jesus example you will be crucified. Isn't that suicide? These are questions that cannot ever be resolved without faith. Dr. Richard Dawkins calls faith a failure. Science must prove its assertions. Perhaps. When I was in surgery I felt as if I was drifting down a cold river. I cold feel the water around my face. There was darkness and then I started to remember the Shaker song The Dancing King and the darkness filled with stars. I was happy. That's not science, but it helped me deal with death. I don't know how many Angels can sit on a pin... How can I? Writing is whistling in the dark and hoping someone cares..... .. ~~~ <^> |
| It's odd but I think my scribbles are part of pop culture. Yay! Does this mean I can have a date with Jennifer Anderson? She's such a school mom. We could go bowling. That's what I used to do a lot of in high school; that and movies. God, high school was an orgy of horniness. And then again my childhood was seriously fucked up. My sisters just loved to play mind games with me. One such punishment was the chair discipline. They told me to sit in this old French chair with a straight back. This game started when I was 5 years old. If I left the chair they would beat me. So, I peed the chair. The cumulative effect was to turn me on to my gay friend Michael Wild. I think he was gay out of the womb. Michael was kissing boys in grammar school and getting beat up for it. He didn't seem to care. He asked me to tie him up in the gym shower, which got us both beat up. Thanks, Mike. Anyway, I get really turned by girls now. I think Michael was a faze. Maybe? I kept the French chair, but I had it reupholstered. It was in the closet of my dad's house and had been stripped to its frame. Sometimes, I'll fantasize about it. It definitely has bondage memories. Does any of this make sense? I think I burned my Ramen Noodles... Pissah! =+=  |
| I love Maine. It's a beautiful place. You can go to the beach or camping or just walk about. .. What is disturbing are the few Christian Churches that promote racism. This sounds nuts, but some of these Maniac Christians believe that Jesus was not semitic. They have this idea of an Arean Jesus with blue eyes and white skin and wavy brown hair.. It's kind of silly, but not so if you cross them on this skin issue. (I do like to stir things up) Well, my mom liked to talk about Jesus and his mission: to liberate the people of- "Palestine." Yes, she did use that term to describe Jesus. She had Coptic paintings of the Black Madonna and the baby Jesus. And I love her for it. I'm not a big fan of the Palestinian movement today. But, Jesus was a Palestinian. That's what the Roman's called the region. Israel is the name Jacob received after he wrestled with God(genesis 32:28). Jacob called the spot Peniel "the Face of God." This is a strange segway, but the Divinity in the human ego is the struggle in every faith. To make this more germane, I have struggled with forgiveness and vengeance. Here's a silly example. Jimmy Fox was a bully. .. I was one of his victims in grammar school. I thought it would be funny to take some my dad's liquid laxative and put it in Jim's milk. I brought the bottled laxative to school and slipped it into Jim's milk. Well, he crapped his pants and passed out. I guess it was too big a dose for a kid.. The school nurse thought Jim had a serious condition an called an ambulance.. . Someone saw me put the laxative in Jim's milk. I was told it was Wanda. She was blonde and taller than me.. I guess that's how she saw. I got detention and Jim on my back.. My mom's advice took me by surprise: "He had it coming. Never forgive an attack on you or your family." I really was nervous about Jim killing me.. I asked my friend Billy Hurley if he could help. Billy was a giant kid, but gentle.. He spoke to Jim and Jim punched him. Billy broke Jim's ribs. You see how this is snow balling? I guess I learned to be careful about vengeance . It can make things worse. ? ? V |
I was told that the Wee People visited at night. They liked the hot humid summer. And if they visited I should give them some bread or water. At the age of nine, I honestly believed my parents and was fearful the box fan in my window would shred fairies. Mom told me that fairies could not be chopped up; "They are spirits." I kept a flash light in my bed.  |
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