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
Hello world!
I’m your wild girl.
I’m your ch-ch-ch-cherry
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
Hello world!
I’m your wild girl.
I’m your ch-ch-ch-cherry
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
Hello world!
I’m your wild girl.
I’m your ch-ch-ch-cherry

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.


“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.

Follow This

You will need to perform a few minor setup steps before using your new Z2.  Bring it on, as I have been responsible for writing many User Guides and if these instructions are any good, I should have this new CPAP machine put together and running in a matter of minutes.  Unpacking and inspection went well, just ten parts, how hard could it be, I am certain that I will get this assembled and powered up in no time.  Remove, squeeze and pull down and away, check, check and check. Insert, align and press, OK got it, did that and whoa it went right in.  Connect short tube to round end of tube adapter and then insert flat end of tube adaptor into the outlet of the Z2 machine.  Easy peasy lemon squeezy, connecting the hose and plugging the damn thing in to the unit.  Connect the other end of the short tube to the Qtube adapter.  Oh, that is the muffler that I was reading about which makes the CPAP quieter, as the air moves through the hose.

Connect the long tube to the other end of the Qtube adapter.  I knew that step was coming even before I read it.  Connect the other end of the long hose to the Heat Moisture Exchange and then connect that to the mask.  Not too bad, I put this puppy together in under 10 minutes.  Ensure all connections are tight to avoid air leaks.  OK I will pull on this, twist that, and wiggle this to ensure that everything is firmly attached.  Time to plug the sucker in and see what it does, although this is more of a blower.  I should thank Linda for providing me the motivation to put this thing together, as this box has been sitting around for months.

Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday where the prompt is to write about instructions and my single instruction is my first sentence.

My Cat

Boggy thinks that she belongs to me, even though there are four cats in this house and they all belong to my cousin.  Yesterday I noticed that her eyes change color, most of the time her eyes are brown like her fur, but when she goes out by the pool, they turn the prettiest shade of green.  Boggy is being retrained to act more like a cat, as she went through a period where she didn’t use the litter box, but she is much netter now.  We got this tent (shown in picture above) which she had to be put in every night and it became my job to lock her in.  She is the fattest cat in the house and my cousin says that Boggy is too heavy to pick up and her boyfriend is not able to bend all that well.

Boggy seems to enjoy being in the tent, but she also likes the game where I have to chase her around and she runs and hides before I am able to catch her.  My bathroom was under construction recently and I had to check into a motel for a week and my cousin asked me to take Boggy with me.  We bonded and she has become very attached to me.  Since we got new flooring here, Boggy has been staying in the computer room and she has not had an accident in the past two weeks, as she is using the litter box again.  I am hoping that Boggy will soon have free rein of the house again, but that is up to my cousin and of course how well Boggy continues to behave.

Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday where the prompt is to write about whatever is beside you when you read this prompt.

Welcome to the Machine

I have always liked machines and after I got my Associates degree in 1980, I started working with machine control systems.  Machines are polite, as they will sit around as long as they have to waiting patiently till they receive their instructions, then they will do as they are told, unlike most people.  When I first started working with machine controls, I learned relay ladder logic, which is fascinating.  The electrical system is divided up into individual ladder rungs that controls an output.  A rung is a series of conditions called logic and at the end of each rung there is typically a coil at the far right, or this could be a timer.  Relay ladder logic is like reading a book as it starts on the left and you proceed through each component till you reach the right and it also starts at the top and you proceed to the bottom.

This is also called a schematic diagram and if the Normally Open or Normally Closed contact series AND conditions and the parallel OR conditions together produce a true state, then the relay coil will energize and its contacts will change state.  OK, that is probably a lot to grasp for those of you that never studied Electrical Engineering, so I will leave you with this song.

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

Go Figure

I came up with this title yesterday and I figured that if I slept on it, something would come to me, but alas I still have nothing.  I guess I will have to make this into a babbling post where I drone on about something, like what a mess the world is in today.  I am feeling better than I have since I got sick back on February 25th, as I think that all the germs have run their course through my body and there is nothing but blue skies ahead for me.  My cousin asked me to help her with her boyfriend who had slipped when he got out of his bed.  He had been sick for a few days and he was really weak.  My cousin made him some chicken soup, but it was too little, too late.

I went into her bedroom and saw her boyfriend laying on the floor and she asked me if I could help her get him up.  Normally I don’t like to touch anybody, as I suffer with a condition known as haphephobia, but mostly this condition manifests itself with touching men or being touched by other men.  I could see that he was stuck and that he needed help.  He was sweating and he seemed to be out of breath from struggling to sit up, but I went over by him and tried to lift him up.  He was a veritable petri dish of germs and I just wanted to get this over with, but he is also a very big guy and with all of my strength, I was only able to get him to sit up and I could not get him back on his feet again.  My cousin said what are we going to do and I said that we should call the fire department.

The fire truck arrived in about 15 minutes and four young very fit guys were on the truck.  I told them how sick my cousin’s boyfriend was and I suggested that they might want to wear those masks.  They each wore the masks and gloves and they were able to get him back on his feet again.  I offered them a $20 bill and said that they could use it to get a pizza, but they wouldn’t take the money, saying that they were being paid by the city.  I got sick the very next day and after two days of coughing and a bad sore throat, I went to see my doctor.  As you might expect, I have a woman doctor.  I went through five days of Tamiflu treatments and when that did not help, my doctor put me on antibiotics and I took my last pill yesterday.

I guess I am lucky that I did not get sick on a cruise ship, like what has happened to so many others from this coronavirus or Covid-19 fiasco.  That must really suck, saving up your money to go out and enjoy yourself and then end up being confined in your room like a prisoner.  This outbreak really caught us with our pants down and if the outcome makes the world a safer place, than maybe it is worth it, but if we don’t learn anything from this, than maybe the world will be better off being ruled by cockroaches.

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


I started out with nothing, so I went through the alphabet with aect, bect, cetc, dect, eect, fect, which gave me my first word perfect and I started hoping that I would hit the trifecta.  I kept going with gect, hect and I thought that maybe hect could be used for hectogram, but since I don’t really know what that is, I didn’t have a story.  I went on with iect, and then I got to ject from which I got to eject.  Now maybe I had a story about a secret agent that had an eject button in his car to dispose of bad guys sitting in the front passenger seat, but I rejected that.  The words kept pouring in, inject, object and then I got dissect, inspect, prospect, dialect, rectal, erection and I was doing better than I expected.  Then I thought about writing a story where I join a sect that practices cannibalism, but I didn’t want everyone to lose the little bit of respect that they still have in me.

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

She Was an Animal in Bed

She did things that made the earth move under my feet, but it was the sounds that she made in bed that sent me over the edge.  My heart went boom when she walked across the room, she knew just how to touch me to make me melt.  I met her in a barroom in Memphis, she covered me in roses and then she blew my mind.  Marianne Faithfull and Anita Pallenberg knew how to moan and groan, but my girl put them to shame, as she was the only one who could make me feel this way.  She had a thing for making that perfect sound, she would groan, grunt, moan, pant, and squeal, which always made me want to mess around.  She had a gift for articulate language and her voice always touched the right spot for me.

There was the heavy breathing followed by the dirty talk and then came those gushy words of encouragement, “Yes, oh yes, that is the spot”, which always did the trick for me.  She was the poster child for the totally uninhibited woman who used her sexual freedom to express herself.  Under the right circumstances, she just made it happen.  She knew how to synchronize her “Ahh, ahh, ahh” vocalization to the movement of her undulating body.  These sex sounds served as our communication when we were approaching orgasmic bliss.  She let me know what gave her pleasure and enjoyment and these amorphous noises always encouraged me to do it again and again.  Her animal sounds always me feel confident in my abilities, but sometimes I wondered who let the dogs out.

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