My Wallpaper

I used this same picture for a JusJoJan prompt this year, when the topic was a picture.  I titled it Desperados  and I mentioned that I don’t take a lot of pictures.  My first thought was the Ringo Starr song ‘Photograph’, but I knew that I could come up with something better.  I thought of the Elvis song ‘Jail House Rock’, because this picture was taken inside of the police station while we were waiting for Danny to be processed for possession of marijuana.  I thought of the Grateful Dead song ‘Truckin’’, because in that song they sing about getting busted.  I thought about the Sam Cooke song ‘Chain Gang’, or the Pretenders song ‘Back on the Chain Gang’ but neither one seemed right.  I thought about the Clash song ‘I Fought the Law’, but the law didn’t win, because we bailed ourselves out and made it to the concert, so this song would not work.  I guess I could have gone with the Merl Haggard song ‘Mama Tried’, because if I was a good kid, then I would never have gotten into any trouble, but where is the fun in that.  Finally, I came upon the Paul McCartney tune ‘Band on the Run’ and that seemed to fit perfectly, because it starts out sad “stuck inside these four walls” which we were after being arrested.  Eddie paid the bail for Danny’s marijuana charges and me being arrested for having open containers of alcohol in a vehicle and it felt like, “the rain exploded with a mighty crash, we fell into the sun”, and I knew we were going to the concert to have a lot of fun.  We were a band of friends and we had good times together and now I use this picture as the wallpaper for my monitor.

Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday where the prompt is to find the closest picture to you and then come up with the title and/or the lyrics of the first song that comes to mind when you look at the picture.  I probably screwed the pooch on this one, as I went through seven songs, before I found the right one.

Linda Made Me Do It

Wanker is a more general term for a tosser and you have to love those British people and their very interesting sayings.  Wanker is not exclusively British, as in the American movie Weird Science Chet is described as being a wanker.  The word tosser can be used the same way as wanker and it is not somebody that tosses bean bags.  Innocence is bliss and I felt a lot better when all I knew about a salad being tossed dealt with the beginning course of a meal and it had nothing to do with deviant behavior among male prisoners.

I hear that all of the pubs opened back up in Great Brittan today and everybody seems to be happy about that and I can’t blame them, as their weather isn’t so great and the food is even worse, that is unless you like fish and chips.  Trump said that corona would be over by April, magically disappearing when the weather got warmer, but I guess we can toss those words of wisdom in the trash.  I tossed all of my scratch off tickets away again after not getting any good numbers.

Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday where the prompt is to use the word “toss” anyway you like.

Flirty Phrases

I always enjoyed flirting, but I never had any cheesy lines prepared like “coffee, tea or me” and I think that only a sexy girl could pull that one off.  One thing that I dad say was, “If you don’t have any fat, you don’t have any fun”, and this was not meant to make fun of skinny people, it was more in support of living a life without restrictions.  This philosophy allowed me to be myself and eat what ever I wanted, whenever I wanted and, in some countries, having a big belly was considered to be a sign of prosperity, before Jane Fonda got everyone interested in exercising.

I never had a line like, “The name is Bond, James Bond”, or “shaken not stirred”, but I did drink mixed drinks when I went out to clubs instead of beer, because I thought that was more sophisticated and it might impress the ladies.  Mixed drinks are sometimes referred to as cocktails, and my drink was either Tangerine and tonic or sometimes I might switch off to Smirnoff vodka with Coke.  All these drinks featured stirrers and all of my friends, who might be classified as drunks practiced this stirrer superstition, about deriving good luck from them, which I will explain.  The stirrers were in all the drinks to keep them mixed as the ice melts, but my drinks never lasted long enough for the ice to melt, so the stirrers were sort of useless to me.

The good luck comes from being able to bend your stirrer exactly in half using your thumb and forefinger, so that both tips touch each other, and then this was the sign that you would get lucky that night.  I bent a whole lot of stirrers back in the day and then it happened, and I was to get lucky this night.  I guess that even a blind pig finds an apple every now and then, but I was elated that this was to be my night.  The way I viewed getting lucky was that it meant that I would meet someone and it actually had nothing to do with actually having sex, but being a guy I always tried to get to first base and it would have been even better if I could manage to touch all the bases and arrive at home plate.  I had gone to the club with a buddy of mine, but we had split up and we were mingling with different people at this point.  I looked for him in the crowd to show him my lucky stirrer, but since I was not able to locate him, I just stuffed the stirrer in my shirt pocket.

I met these two girls out in the hallway away from the band where it was a bit more quiet and you could actually talk to people when one of them asked me what time it was, and I told them the time and I showed them my lucky stirrer.  They each told me that they had boyfriends, but they were both kind of cute, so I stuck around to keep chatting with them.  I remember rambling on about a satellite system that I was designing, which would beam the correct time into everyone’s watch and all the clocks for that matter.  I explained how nice this would be if everyone had the exact same time and then I went on to enlighten about how much time this would save when you had to set all the clocks forward or backwards each year.  These girls thought that I was brilliant and then one of them said that since I was able to express myself so well, why was it that I didn’t have a girl friend?  Cute is one thing, but cute and annoying is something else and I did not need that, so I told her that she made a good point and then I left them to find love.

My drink was empty, what a lush I was, so I went to the bar to get another, however the club was crowded and with all the thirsty people there, I could see that it would take a while before I was able to get the bartenders attention.  I knew all about tipping and I knew that if I could edge my way close enough that the bartender would recognize me as a preferred patron.  While I was waiting and watching the band, someone behind me tapped me on the shoulder.  When I turned around this girl held up this belt and asked me if it belonged to me.  I had no idea why I grabbed it, but I told that girl that it would never fit me and my best guess was that it belonged to some chick.

Now I am still several people deep, before I actually can get to the bar and besides having my empty glass in my hand, I now also had this stupid belt.  I was determined to get rid of it, so I asked a girl standing nearby me if it was her belt.  She was really cute and she had a pink feather in her hair.  She put both of her hands on her hips and swiveled from side to side and then she announced that it was not her belt, because she was wearing her belt.  I thought that she looked so cute sashaying there right in front of me, so I reached through a crowd of people to place my empty glass on the bar, it is always good to have long arms and then I dropped that stupid belt and it emerged into an abyss of oblivion, never to be seen again.  Well the sweeper probably got it the next day and then I smiled at her and I grabbed her hand and said, “Let’s dance.”  If it was not for that stupid belt we would never have met and it just goes to show that you never know when you will get lucky.

Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday where the prompt is to find a flirty phrase like “coffee, tea or me”.

For the Buzz

Fuzzy Wuzzy looked for a buzz, until he lost all of his brain cells.  His brain was fuzzy from sniffing, or inhaling, which the kids called huffing.  He would put chemicals in a plastic bag and then sniff them to get high.  He started with airplane glue and then he moved on to Carbona, but his favorite was the wood filler in shop class.  He enjoyed being dizzy all the time, and often he fell asleep.  One day in math class as he was sitting next to the window, he fell fast asleep and ended up falling out of the window.  The other students all laughed, thinking this was hilarious, but fuzzy was hurt seriously this time.  Fuzzy broke his neck from the fall and now he is in traction.

Fuzzy slipped into a dream and he remembered being up in baby heaven before he was born.  God had asked him if he wanted any brains and Fuzzy thought that God said pains, so he replied, “No thank you.”  Fuzzy was not the sharpest knife in the drawer, or the brightest bulb on the tree and he dreamed that he was at a Ramones’ concert with a plastic bag tied over his face, where he endlessly inhaled vapors and dreamt of punk rock.  Fuzzy died in a coma with a smile on his face.

Wondering what I’m doing tonight
I’ve been in the closet and feel all right
Ran out of Carbona Mom threw out the glue
Ran out of paint and roach spray too
It’s TV’s fault why I am this way

Mom and pop want to put me away
From the early morning movie to the late late show
After it’s over nowhere to go
And I’m not sorry for the things I do

My brain is stuck from shooting glue
I’m not sorry for the things I do
Carbona not glue

Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday where the prompt is to find a word with a double-z “zz”, and use it in your post.

Nailed It

Last week I cheated not doing a valid stream of consciousness, however this week will be different as I have nothing prepared and I will not indulge in any research.  If only I could only write like J-Dubs Grin and Bear It – Jilly Beans, this would be simple, but my mind works differently.  If I were a carpenter and you are a lady, I’d probably try to nail you.  I did drink a rusty nail which was really disgusting, so I will never do that again.  Nevermore cried the Raven, as it flew off to Never Never Land.  I’ve got nothing more to add, so I will end this post with the poem that was in my first post called Walking Gale and written on April 23, 2017, because it has the word nail in it.

She is wagging her tail.
We are getting the mail.
We will walk through the dale.
It started to hail.
Stopped to lean on a rail.
Just stepped on a snail.
Glad it wasn’t a nail.
Just saw a quail.
We will not fail.
And end up in jail.
We would need bail.
Let’s go for a sail.
It would be nice to catch a whale.
My hook got caught on some kale.
Put the fish in a pail.
Popped open an ale.
That girl is wearing a veil.

Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday where the prompt is nail.

Not a Fan

I have never been a fan of Colin Kaepernick, but I do respect his courage for supporting the Black Lives Matter cause.  Sports are supposed to be played in front of fans and the NFL owners have made millions off obscure tax breaks associated with the construction of NFL stadiums, and allowing them to write off nearly all of the purchase price of their teams against profits over time, but it is wrong to give tax breaks to billionaires.  An unprecedented week in the NFL culminated in a landscape-shifting 24 hours that appears to have dramatically changed the league’s stance on player protests.  Last night Roger Goodell the current Commissioner of the National Football League said, “We, the National Football League, condemn racism and the systematic oppression of black people.  We, the National Football League, admit we were wrong for not listening to NFL players earlier and encourage all players to speak out and peacefully protest.  We, the National Football League, believe that black lives matter.”

Most people including me didn’t want to hear Colin Kaepernick’s message and I twisted it into him being disrespectful against the National Anthem, because I was always taught to respect the flag and our country from my dad who served in WWII.  I felt that Colin had the right to protest, but he was doing it at the wrong time.  I never walked a mile in his shoes, so I did not understand his suffering and although I have never been prejudiced, I am not an expert on racism or social injustice.  Drew Brees the quarterback for the New Orleans Saints apologized for some of his remarks which he felt were insensitive after taking flack from critics and Emmanuel Acho a former NFL linebacker launched a video titled “Uncomfortable Conversations with a Black Man”, which got a lot of views.

If the NFL changes the rules and allows kneeling during the national anthem, I will support it as a way of bringing our country together, because I have never seen it this divided before.  I guess Colin Kaepernick will be allowed back into the NFL, but I won’t be cheering for him.  I may be a privileged white person, one that does not understand what it means to be black, but I have never met a black person that I didn’t like, except the guy who sucker punched me and gave me a black eye.  I worked in Engineering most of my life and all the black people that I met were professionals, so in my sheltered life, the plight of the black people that have been persecuted for so long has been mostly hidden from me.

Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday where the prompt is fan.

Burn the Mother Down

Frustration is inevitable when it seems like there is no justice.  The maximum punishment for being convicted of third-degree murder in Minnesota is 25 years imprisonment.  OK, I cheated, as I looked that up, but George Floyd was only looking for some air to breathe.  George needs to have some justice and these charges are a joke, as they will probably be pleaded down to some minor offense and the officer that took his life will spend minimal time in a country club prison.  This needs to be a first-degree murder charge and the other three officers who idly stood by and watched George die also need to be charged.  Hey why stop there, the district attorney that filed this unjust charge should be fired for incompetence.

Why does nothing ever change?  Is it a sin to have black skin?  The Nazis engaged in sterilization experiments with the Jews, trying to spay them like they were unwanted animals.  It is no less cruel to step on the neck of a handcuffed man and choke the life out of him.  This was like a lynching and George may not have had his body splayed out, but the officer killed him and the others just stood there watching.  You would think that after so many lives were lost due to the coronavirus being sprayed around in the air, that life would be more precious.

Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday where the prompt is to use any of these words spay/splay/spray.

Cheryl Blossom

Cheryl is the red-hot leader of the River Vixens of Riverdale and you really need to ch-ch-ch-check this out.  The chorus part pf the David Bowie song ‘Changes’ is famous for Bowie stuttering the “ch” at the beginning of the word “changes”, and it ranks as one of the most widely known songs with stuttering behind that of the Who song ‘My Generation’.

Can’t stay at home,
can’t stay at school.
Old folks say
‘You poor little fool’.
Down the streets
I’m the girl next door.
I’m the fox you’ve
been waiting for.
Hello, daddy. Hello, mom.
I’m your ch-ch-ch-cherry
bomb!
Hello world!
I’m your wild girl.
I’m your ch-ch-ch-cherry
bomb!
Stone age love and
strange sounds too.
Come on, baby,
let me get to you.
Bad nights causing
teenage blues.
Get down ladies,
you’ve got nothin’ to lose.
Hello, daddy. Hello, mom.
I’m your ch-ch-ch-cherry
bomb!
Hello world!
I’m your wild girl.
I’m your ch-ch-ch-cherry
bomb!
Hey, street boy,
want some style?
Your dead end dreams
don’t make you smile.
I’ll give you something
to live for.
Take you and shake you to
your core
Hello, daddy. Hello, mom.
I’m your ch-ch-ch-cherry
bomb!
Hello world!
I’m your wild girl.
I’m your ch-ch-ch-cherry
bomb!

Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday where the prompt is to find a word that starts with “ch” and use the word as your prompt.

Tantrum

“Want, want, want it”, I said to my mom in the grocery store as I picked up a box of jujubes off the shelf and tossed them into the grocery cart.  My mom said, “You have got to be kidding after that $500 dentist bill that I just had to pay, no more candy means no more candy.  You don’t have any money, so you can’t just throw items into the cart, if you want something, you need to ask for it.”  I said, “Mom, can I please have some candy?”  My mom said, “No, I told you no more candy.”  I screamed, “I want candy, I want candy!”  My mom said, “I might expect this behavior if you were two, three or four years old, but you are six now and this is embarrassing”, and then she walked away.  I pulled all of the candy off of the shelf screaming, “I want it”, and then I laid down on my back on the floor flailing my arms and legs around in a full-blown tantrum.  After 10 minutes of this I picked myself up off the floor and started looking for my mom.

Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday where the prompt is to use the word want as the first, second or third word of your post.

My Man Cave

It is a recreation and relaxation room, with chairs, couches, music and home theater.  It has a pool table, a jacuzzi and a fully stocked bar.  Right now, my toilet paper supply has dwindled down to just 53 rolls, but as soon as things get back to normal, I will restock it again.  It hasn’t seen much use since this Covid-19 thing struck, but back in the day it was the perfect place for many totally wild bachelor parties and I filmed some of them, because they are entertaining to watch.  My wife has her office and I respect her space, so she stays out of my man cave.

Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday where the prompt is cave.