FIFTY AND HOLDING
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Posted:Apr 16, 2007 7:39 am
Last Updated:May 8, 2007 7:41 am
4128 Views
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This is my fiftieth post to my blog. Tradition and convention would have this be a list of fifty things you don’t know about me. Never being one to accept convention I am not going to create a simple list of things you don’t know about me. I would much rather save that material for future blogs.
I have enough trouble coming up with interesting ideas to write about. My muse is not very consistent. It strikes me with inspiration in an irregular fashion. So I am asking you dear readers. Be my muses give some ideas of things you would like to see me write about.
I am throwing out the gauntlet. Give me ideas I will give you blogs. Seems like a fair trade.
Now for a short blog about life inside my head, No; it is not a horror story.
My mind often misinterprets things I read and hear in the funniest ways. This is short example of my eye-brain providing me with comic relief in my everyday life.
I was walking out of Wally World early one morning. I saw a car in the parking lot with a bumper sticker.
I read it to say....
I (heart symbol) my cousin...
...The car was not from West Virginia. It was from North Carolina though  .
I chuckled to myself thinking that is an odd thing to say on a bumper sticker. The entire realm of possible meanings flashed through my head.
I decided to turn around and read it again. It actually said......
I (heart symbol) my Coastie (apparently the driver loved a member of the US Coast Guard who may or may not have been a relative)
Now you know why I need ideas from you.
Until Next Time
I am as always waiting for inspiration 
PS I saw the mullet wig again this morning. It was being worn, I did not see it traveling under its own power.
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MULLETS JUST A HAIRSTYLE OR A SIGN OF THE APPOCAYPSE (YOU DECIDE)
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Posted:Apr 4, 2007 11:09 am
Last Updated:May 24, 2007 12:57 pm
3975 Views
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Mullets, Mullets everywhere and not an El Camino in sight.
I have seen more mullets this week than I have since the Dew Drop Inn had their Billy Ray Cyrus look alike contest and chili cook off. No, I did not win. I lost the talent portion I couldn’t do the Achy Brakey Heart. My lack of rhythm strikes again.
The business in front party in the back look has never appealed to me. It lacks the commitment long hair requires. It is higher maintance than a short hair cut should be. Sounds like the worst of both worlds to me.
Back to the story, in the past week I have seen people with mullets everywhere. The grocery store, 7-11, Wa-Wa, Wal-Mart and Target everywhere I turned. Men. Women and heads held high with pride. Their hybrid coiffures swaying as they sashayed down the aisles.
Then it happened, walking out of the soccer complex on Sunday.
My says “Dad! That woman has a mullet!!!”
I look up to see to me what signals the end of society as I know it. A Mini-van driving Soccer Mom with a Boot Scoot Boogie ass kickin mullet luckily she was not wearing Daisy Duke’s.
I gave my a quick shhhhhhhhhh and thought no more of it.
Until this morning when I saw the second sign of the apocalypse.......
a woman wearing a mullet wig.
No, Shit dear readers...a mullet wig.
I have not seen anything so obvious since Mr. Jennings, our high school band director, had his toupee lifted up by a strong cross wind.
I do not know for sure if the four horsemen of the apocalypse have hair or not. It is a safe bet if they do not they will be sporting mullet wigs like the one I saw today.
Until Next Time
I am as always thinking that contest was fixed
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MISTER LARRY AND THE DANCE OF LOVE
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Posted:Mar 27, 2007 9:51 am
Last Updated:Apr 11, 2007 6:09 am
3538 Views
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I took a Ballroom dancing class in college as a physical education elective. The class was taught by a man whose we called Mr. Larry. He looked like an unnatural mating between Hair Bear and Tony Manero.
As if any mating between a 1970’s cartoon Bear with a huge Afro and the king of disco and polyester from Saturday Night Fever would be natural. It was West Virginia after all so anything is possible.
The look was interesting enough, huge hair and tight polyester. His voice, what can I say? When he spoke he had a Richard Simmons rapid fire pattern, but he sounded like Bob Ross talking about “happy little trees”. (Bob Ross had a PBS painting show in the 1980s) The voice did not fit the body. It was like a poorly dubbed Kung Foo movie came to life.
The first night of class Mister Larry passed out a syllabus detailing the dances we were to learn: Waltz, Cha Cha, Foxtrot, Swing and The Tango, the Dance of Love. He told us the Tango was his favorite.
The class was coed. The females out numbered the males. (Imagine that  ) All the male students were paired up with females. The remainder of the females alternated dancing with another female or rotated among the males. So far so go...
Not so fast twinkle toes....
If Mister Larry thought a male student was not leading properly he would cut in to demonstrate the correct method. He did this by dancing with the male student first. He personally showed the male how it felt to be properly led. It was then he danced with the female half to show her how a correct lead felt.
As the semester wore on we seemed to be stuck on the Cha-Cha for weeks. I felt like the cats in the Cat Chow commercials. Cha freakin Cha....
I had so far dodged the Mister Larry bullet. (Get your minds out of the gutter). Which boggles my mind; I have no rhythm when it comes to dancing. In fact I am the black hole of rhythm I suck the rhythm out of the room. (To emphasize my point I was excused from mandatory aerobics in at a Navy school I attended. I could not follow the routine. My efforts proved to be a disruption to everyone else; hard to do aerobics and laugh.  My movements were compared to Joe Cocker's when he sings) Because of this I figured I would too feel the touch of Mister Larry’s hand in mine and his strong hand on my back guiding me as we tripped the light fantastic.
With two classes to go it was obvious the Tango was off the schedule. We had a crash course in swing dancing the next to last night. The last night was a review of his favorite dances (of course it was the Cha Cha). Mister Larry and a female student demonstrated the Tango for the rest of the class.
Alas I never got my moment with Mister Larry. I guess he knew I was hopeless.
Until Next Time
I am as always Rhythmically Challenged
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THE GREAT EQUALIZER ( A True Life Account)
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Posted:Mar 19, 2007 10:59 am
Last Updated:Oct 11, 2007 8:44 am
3625 Views
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This is a real time diary of my adventures at the DMV on Friday. I had to get a new driver’s license. My appearance changed enough that I no longer resemble my photo. That is not a bad thing as the quality of the photo was poor.
Please, like all of you have Glamor Shots on your driver’s license. The Virginia DMV does not offer air brushing of photos yet  .
My license was issued in 2004. Since then I have grown a goatee. My hair is now past my shoulders before it was to military regulations. It has gotten so bad that trying to cash my paychecks is an ordeal that would piss off Job. (That is a story all its own)
Back to the DMV, I call it the Great Equalizer. Anyone who enters must abandon all hope. Rich, poor, fat, skinny, ugly, short, stupid, tall, beautiful, geniuses all are treated to the same level of forms, lines and loss of time.
My adventure starts standing in line to be issued a ticket with an alphanumeric code on it. It is a miniature one number bingo card in a game where the prize is a reduced wait. This took 15 minutes. Then you sit and wait to be summoned by the computer generated voice
“A-eight one four to window number nine” purrs the female voice.
“F one two seven to window number eight” she coos again.
Of course I am holding a C ticket; I have not heard a single C being called.
30 minutes now
I began counting the snorts and sniffles of the man standing behind me for fun.
KC and The Sunshine Band instructs me to Shake, Shake, Shake... Shake Shake Shake my booty" over the speakers in the ceiling. For a split second I actually thought about complying...but I did not
10 sniffles, 4 hacks, and 1 snort so far
It sounds like a TB ward in here people coughing everywhere.
A room full of people held hostage by a maze of clerks, counters and forms.
Sniffle man walks out denied access by the guardian of the golden tickets.
OMG they just called C two three four only one more to go!!!!
Now Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band tell me “it is still the same” If they only knew how true that was.
45 minutes
Getting drowsy, I am afraid I might fall asleep and miss my turn.
“A Zero one one” the cyberbitch voice says gleefully
Entertainment at last, I am listening to a woman fight with someone on her cell phone. The argument ends  Damn, that was fast
50 minutes
“C two three five to window number 18” the sweet voice says.
Hallelujah that is me!!!!!!!
Only problem is the flashing electronic signs end with #15 (Was this a cruel joke? part of a new drivers test?). I look to my right. A small handmade sign sitting on a desk says window 18. No 16 or 17 bad luck perhaps like a hotel skipping the 13th floor.
One Hour
Still waiting to get picture taken.
Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Sweet Home Alabama plays, I wonder if the DMV lines are shorter in Alabama?
70 minutes
Summoned for photo.
“Sign your name on the screen” barks the clerk.
“I can’t see what I am writing” I reply
“That was not a good signature” she sneers
“Press harder next time” she added
Pressing for all I am worth I create an acceptable signature
Next I get my picture taken 
Then I wait some more….
85 minutes
I am presented with my new still warm license and it looks like me. What of the unseen signature? It looks like a cross between first grade printing and a stick figure. At least I am finished and it is still Friday!!
Until Next Time
I am as always avoiding the DMV
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just being
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Posted:Mar 9, 2007 6:32 am
Last Updated:Mar 26, 2007 9:56 am
3596 Views
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This post was inspired by a post from Cowboywanted2day's blog The post is called [post 750088]. (links used by permission} Thank you Cowboywanted2day
just being
me
just being
happy
just being
me
it takes
work
just being
me
it takes
love
just being
me
it takes
growth
just being
me
it takes
pain
just being
me
it takes
time
just being
happy
just being
me
until next time
I am as always just being me
XX
^5s
MJ
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thinking............... i think not
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Posted:Mar 8, 2007 8:51 am
Last Updated:Oct 11, 2007 8:49 am
3686 Views
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what are you thinking
nothing
living and loving in the moment
feeling not thinking
that is better
dont you..............
think
until next time
I am as always savoring those moments
XX ^5s
MJ
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AN ANGRY OLD MAN LEARNS SIZE IS NOT EVERYTHING
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Posted:Mar 5, 2007 7:32 am
Last Updated:Oct 11, 2007 9:07 am
3630 Views
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I forgot a part of the story. I added it in red.
I had to make a deposit a well known country wide bank. I will call it Bank of United States . They are known for having an assistant manager greet you at the door and ask if they can help you. I was at the end of a line of about 4 people waiting for the tellers. There were a like number of folks waiting to be seen by the staff in the offices. We’ll call it a total of 8 to 10 people waiting in line.
I hear the female assistant manager say may I help you.
“I would like to see the manager I have a large deposit” a balding anger old man said in a voice loud enough to attract attention. (He emphasized large)
“I am sorry he is at lunch and will be back in an hour. You may wait or I can help you” replied the assistant manager.
Reaching into his wallet the now angrier old man handed her a business card. “Is this gentleman available?” He said in a demeaning tone.
“I am sorry he is with a . My signature authority is higher than his may I help you?” she replied with a huge smile. (That implied that he will have to bring me your deposit anyway, you old bastard)
“This is a quarter of a million dollars I don’t want to wait. I want to make sure this gets downtown. I want to be seen NOW!!” He replied almost yelling. (emphasizing the size of his deposit and now) "If you do not take me ahead of these people I am going across the street to the Sunny Trust Bank and they will gladly take my money." The man sneared at the manager.
At that every eye in the bank was on him. I was not about to give up my place in line for anyone with an attitude like his. I was waiting to hear how she would respond to that demand.
The assistant manager stood a bit taller and straighter in a firm tone this is what she said “Sir, these have been waiting. I will not take you ahead of anyone. NOW take a seat and someone will be with you” He slinked over to the seats. Obvilous to the glares and ill wishes from the rest of the bank.
I wanted to applaud. I wanted to hug the assistant manager. I wanted to flip off the old asshole. I wanted to hand him five dollars and say since your time is far more valuable than the rest of us we took up a collection for you. I did none of those things. I did go and thank her. She did the right thing with grace, dignity and class. Better treatment than he deserved, but the right thing none the less.
The old man’s behavior was wrong on so many levels. He obviously thought because he had money he deserved special treatment. When that did not work he tried to bully his way through. What was not so obvious, but was still identifiable. Was the way he spoke to the assistant manager because she was a woman. He wanted to see a man, any man would do. Even when he was told the man he wanted to see would have to bring her the deposit anyway. She was unworthy because she was a woman. I was amazed I have never witnessed chauvinism in its pure form. It is ugly.
Until Next Time
I am as always glad women are in the world. You are my favorite people
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A COUNTRY SONG WAITING TO HAPPEN
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Posted:Feb 28, 2007 9:42 am
Last Updated:Mar 8, 2007 8:52 am
4614 Views
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For most of my chronologic adulthood after college I have managed offices with staffs of 6 to 10 people (and all the drama that implies). I could have written hundreds of country songs if I would have taken notes about their adventures or should I say misadventures. I still might try to write a few songs to go with these titles:
My Ex Mother In-Law Stole My Car
I Can’t Come to Work because my Wife Punched my Dad
My Cheating Trophy Wife was a Boobie Prize After all
Who is Feeling the Implants I paid for, cause it ain't me
The Cops Came to my 's Wedding (and did not bring a gift)
Whose Boobs are on the Copier?
Who Bought Beer with the Petty Cash again?
I Beat up my Brother to sleep with you and you gave me crabs
None of that prepared me for the temp we had in the office. I sweet Grandmotherly type crossed with a hippie. Seemingly a great combination ….It went well initially she showed up on time, did her job. The customers loved her. We were thinking about making her permanent.
One day out of the blue she walked up to me and said “MJ your aura is beautiful today”
I asked her if she saw auras all the time.
“Of course, I do. It helps me deal with people” was her reply
I think people do have an energy field and it maybe possible for people to see it. I chalked it up to her having a unique way about her. I decided to follow up and find out what she knew. She had studied eastern religions (Buddhism, Taoism) and had taken many classes in “new age” philosophies (Which are where the aura view came from.) She was an interesting person to talk to about a variety of subjects.
A few days later she said the Chi in the office was all wrong. We needed to apply the concepts of Feng Shui to correct the problem. She went on to say the office would not be around much longer if we did not balance the Chi. She realized the functionality of the office mandated the basic configuration, but she would do what she could. I was beginning to get concerned just how out there this woman was.
The next day when she came into the office she asked me how strong wall plaster was. This is not as strange as it sounds I have a background in the building trades. I made the mistake of asking what she was doing with it.
“I made a paper-mache mold of my husband’s penis. I want to fill the mold with plaster and use it as a bookend” was the answer I did really not need to hear.
I told her that plaster of paris would be better suited to her needs. Then she asked me if I knew of source for liquid latex because she wanted a functional model as well. I suggested the yellow pages and went out the back door to laugh until I cried.
Things were not as funny when she said to me “Don’t worry about your he’ll be fine.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked her excitedly
My ’s daycare was on the same street as the office. Everyone in the office knew that and knew who he was.
“I saw angels sitting on the building this morning. So, I know he is protected” she explained.
When pressed for information she said the angels were 40 feet tall and were glowing purple. That was not the usual sign on top of the building so I was concerned.
I went to the daycare. My was fine. Then I asked if she had been hanging around outside the building. She had not. I told the director to call me if she came anywhere near my .
A day or so later at closing time she said to me “MJ you are doomed. Your aura tells me you are doomed”. She handed me a slip of paper with an address on it. She said “mail my last check there I am quitting”. She walked out never to be seen again.
I changed jobs a few months later just to be safe
Until Next Time
I am as always surrounded by interesting characters
XX ^5s
MJ
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French Kissing and Oprah (Why I am not a TV Dad)
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Posted:Feb 27, 2007 9:12 am
Last Updated:Oct 11, 2007 9:07 am
3706 Views
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One evening many years ago my then three year old asks me; "Daddy what is French kissing?"
I almost wrecked the truck I turned around to look at him so fast.
Regaining control of the truck I composed myself trying not to laugh.
In my best Ward Cleaver voice I asked him; "Where did you hear about that?"
"From Hannah at school" he said
"So did she kiss you or one of the other boys?" I asked him not sure I wanted the answer.
"No, Daddy she was talking about it. So what is it?" He asked certainly not letting the subject go.
Thinking an honest, but vague response was best I said "it is when big people touch their tongues when they kiss"
"Ewwwww yucky" he said to my great relief
I had to say something to the teachers about this. The next morning I told the teacher what had happened.
They responded Hannah did it again. She has older brothers and sisters that think it is funny to get her to say shocking things.
Perhaps my not so deft handling of this question and many others is why last night my now preteen declared with absolute conviction:
“Dad Oprah is smarter than you are.”
“OK, why do you say that?” I replied using small words
“She is on TV and you are you” He responded confidently
“Being on TV makes her smarter than me?” I mumbled feeling my IQ dropping like a dress on prom night
“She talks to all kinds of people about many topics. She has to be smart to do that.” He gleefully said.
“Yes she is smart. I am too. We have never met, it is kind of hard to compare us” I feebly responded.
I parked the truck and said “Still think she is smarter?”
“HELLO” yelled the smiling Hooters girls
“No Dad I don’t” He said sheepishly
Ward Cleaver has nothing on me
Until Next Time
I am as always no TV Dad, but I am smarter than your average bear
XX and ^5s
MJ
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Why am I in this handbasket?
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Posted:Feb 20, 2007 11:28 am
Last Updated:Oct 11, 2007 9:07 am
3795 Views
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Holy Shit
It has been a long week already. I am having a week of Mondays and it is only Tuesday. You name it has happened. Crazy customers, equipment breakdown, half assed vendor support and staff issues crisis management at its finest. The best thing is I don’t own the mess. I just play in it five days a week.
Two steps forward, three backwards only to be hit by the bus for my troubles, of course it is only a flesh wound.
RIDE THE GOOD
ride the good
because it is reliable
ride the good
because it is loyal
ride the good
til it lathers
beat the good
to keep it moving
ride the good
until it buckles under the load
beat the good
make it bleed
beat the good
to make the dollar you need
ride the good
til it dies
don’t morn the good
find another to make the dollar
always been the good
Thanks I feel better now.
Until Next Time
I am as always thankful that you read my words.
XX
MJ
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chosen family
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Posted:Feb 6, 2007 8:13 am
Last Updated:Apr 15, 2008 6:37 am
3850 Views
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chosen family
dear friends
are family chosen
for yourself
bound by love
not blood
bound by experience
not birth
chosen family doesn’t
diminish blood’s bond
it strengthens both
strengthens by
acceptance unquestioning
strengthens
by support unyielding
chosen family is a
blessing rare
Just my way of telling my friends how important they are in my life. I also thank them for being there for me
Until Next Time
I am as always "getting by with a little help from my friends" John Lennon, Paul McCartney
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WE SCREEN FOR FELONS AND MARRIED PEOPLE
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Posted:Jan 30, 2007 10:16 am
Last Updated:Apr 15, 2008 6:32 am
4158 Views
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 Disclaimer: This is a tongue and cheek topic. I have no issue with felons or married people or even married felons. Void where prohibited by law. No purchase necessary. Do not read while operating heavy machinery or in the shower. All rights reserved.
We screen for felons and married people
A dating site out there in cyberworld, (Not any under the Polyamory Date umbrella) advertises itself as the only site on the web that screens out felons and married people.
That got me to thinking how being married and being a felon could possibly be alike.
The first thing that sprang to mind was both are on your record for ever.
Then a flurry of similarities began:
Often each of them starts with a poor decision.
A judge or other official presides at the ceremonies for each one.
Your sentence is pronounced in both cases.
A photographic record is generated in both cases.
Both can haunt you for the rest of your life.
Both have similar percentages of people who offend more than once
Then I got to thinking about what other things could dating sites screen for:
We screen for BO.
“Our members are odor free”
We screen for stalkers
“Our members know the meaning of get lost”
or
“Our members will be lifelong friends
like it or not"
We screen for internet inches
“Our members measure up”
We screen for plastic surgery
“Our members are natural”
or
“All our members are new and improved”
or
"Plastic is not just for shopping anymore"
There is truly something for everyone in cyberland you just have to know where to look. Remember be careful what you ask for you might just get it.
Until Next Time
I am as always amusing myself
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To link to this blog (piercednshavedmn) use [blog piercednshavedmn] in your messages.
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The bitch ;!;
