When I was a boy, I saw the movie Rollerball, starring James Caan playing a bloodthirsty but morally troubled athlete. It was a great movie, and Caan almost made up for his sappy rendition of a dying football player from his previous movie, Brian’s Song. Rollerball portrayed a futuristic spectator sport in which the crowd cheered while the losers had their heads smashed in with a spiky steel ball. To a teenage boy, this was real entertainment. But even going back to medieval times, people have enjoyed watching violence – gladiators hacking one another to …Read the Rest
That homeless woman was back again last night. At least she didn’t bring her shopping cart with her this time. Feeling sorry for her sad rummaging, we invited her in for dinner. All of us were having a good time, and then she just had to start calling me names and talking smack about Lima beans and hamburger and the proper way to make Baked Beans. I needed to put her in her place. So after soundly whooping her at Scrabble, I waited until her next dumpster run. When her back was …Read the Rest
Chicken on the left, pork on the right. Corn tortillas with green, flour with red. Them’s the rules. The women are already whining that it’s too spicy, and if my sister were here, she’d be criticizing me over the use of canned sauce (it’s only the starting point, sis). Oh, well. At the end of the day, my enchiladas are the best. Bring on the rice, Burris.
After several discussions on whether nightcrawlers are really worms and thus worthy of the hook, we proceeded. Nothing was caught but weeds and sticks, but we had a good time nonetheless
In the morning, we go to San Diego. We will drive 409 miles to get there, or around 6 hours. I can make it in just over 5 hours, but I’m not driving, except through the mountains. If one were to Google the number 409, you would see some interesting stuff: Formula 409, invented by the Clorox Corporation in 1957 and originally sold only in 40-gallon drums, was a highly toxic industrial cleaner. Now it’s little stronger than goat piss. The Beach Boys once wrote …Read the Rest
I couldn’t take it anymore. Verizon Wireless hawked their twofer special on TV the other night and I caved (actually, it’s Jake’s fault). So here we are, Droid Part II. Sorry, Eric. Sorry Aaron. No Words for Friends yet, at least not until I get the iPad. Maybe this weekend? Anyway, I got the stupid insurance this time, to defend against potential mishaps I might have with my compulsive laundress of a wife.
You ever get that song stuck in your head and by mid-morning you’re ready to put a screwdriver in your ear to make it stop? It happened to me last night. The little woman punished me with a two-hour Brooks and Dunn farewell special on TV last night, and since then my tortured mind has alternated between The Boot-Scoot Boogie and Achy-Breaky Heart. Where do they come up with these lyrics? There was a brief reprieve around lunchtime during which the …Read the Rest
I went to a Sports Bar the other night. I’m not a big sports fan, but they had beer, so I figured why not. They had TVs everywhere. Against the far wall, Tiger was in match play against some white guy. Next to him, the LA Lakers trailed the Oklahoma Thunder, and a hockey fight ensued on the third set. Off to the right were reruns of last year’s Superbowl, and the Boys of Summer were cranking it up in Spring Training on the left. Before each TV sat a group of drunken …Read the Rest
I was a dump virgin. We had enough shit in the backs of our trucks to fill a space cruiser, but weren’t sure what we were going to do with it all. A line from Alice’s Restaurant wandered through my stupid head and I considered looking for a likely pile of garbage to join with ours, but in the end we continued on, my son and I, to the Tucson landfill. I have to admit, it was a bargain, like some weird anti-buffet: all you can dump for $10. …Read the Rest
Last weekend I made big progress on the honeydo list. From the side yard, my son and I tossed over the wall several tons of now rotten mesquite branches, two white doors, a chair, a broken bookshelf, some clay pots, a pallet, half a mile of 2″ PVC tubing, and two plastic chaise lounges. All was ignominiously piled into the back of the Danger Ranger and, since loads must be covered while driving through Marana, we wrapped the whole mess in a green plastic tarp large enough to serve as a …Read the Rest