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Man, long time, long time....

Well, another year come and gone. Life still grinds away with it's quirks, twists and turns. By turns there's been laughter, tears, joy and sadness for all involved here; deaths in the family, other family members coming of age, growing up, moving out.... One thing always brings a smile to at least a couple of members of the household every year; the Garden City Scooter Rally, which was held this weekend.

This year, I was deemed seasoned enough (this being my 5th year of attendance) to choose to be part of the administrative/co-ordinating staff instead of a participant, so I decided to take this one off the road and do that.

KG was eager to get out and on the road again, the old Fusion having developed an electrical cancer that had the mechanics scratching their heads in confusion, so we've mothballed it until we can decide the best course of action to take. In the meantime she went shopping for a new scoot and came up with a lovely little Suzuki 50cc 2-stroke. Too small for me, but just right for her size of frame.

She was really happy with her choice, all smiles and was eager to test the mettle of her machine against the old rattle buckets of the Vespa variety.

Where the ride took off from was essentially a "meet & greet" with the other scooterists, making sure they didn't get themselves creamed by passing vehicles as they skylarked around. When you get about 100+ hardcore scooter riders all concentrated in one place, things can get pretty haywire unless the planning committee is on to of their shit, but on the other hand, you don't want to come off as fascist about it and kill the fun. It's a surprisingly fine line to walk.

Finally, the payoff was in the air for all the riders... the 5 minute warning. Everybody gets a little tense, a bit serious... The air fills with the sound of revving 2-Stroke engines and the smell of oil-rich exhaust and everyone wants a clean, smooth start to the ride. The general feel of the group can be read in the faces of those waiting....

I had to leave KG after this point to confab with the "swarm leader" who would be leading the massive pack and exchange some details. In the end, the take off was smooth and through the route there were far less breakdowns than last year (most of the roadside breakdowns were by the Vespas. LOL!).

Sadly, due to work, i couldn't make the afterparty or the infamous "Wall of Stall" ride at 1am, but I'm not sure I'd be up for being sleep deprived and having to reign in a bunch of half pissed scooterists trying to get their old clankers up the steepest incline in the city....

Next year, though, I'll probably rejoin the ranks of the riders. Planning is all fine and good, but I prefer the wind in my face and my tires spinning over the asphalt.

Too hillarious not to share...

... even with the wankers.

From the site, a site dedicated to exposing and rattling the cage of Wikipedia, the "open encyclopedia that ANYONE can edit", note the following is listed in their article of the foibles of Wikipedia regarding the "Wikitruth Scavenger Hunt of 2007":

"Among those in on the Wikitruth Scavenger Hunt joke was Kelly Martin, probably one of the worst offenders of "This is my playpen and get the hell out or I stick you with my shovel" in the Wikipedian world. When a two-week research project into her background revealed that she was once Scott Goehring, the creator of the alt.religion.scientology newsgroup and a whole other host of Usenet wankery, well, you'd probably have had to get some sort of forklift to get our jaws off the floor. Kelly resigned from the project, and we graciously deleted all articles... only to find that she was quietly reasserting administrator privileges outside of the already-corrupt Wikipedia power structure. Back they went, and back they stay. Sorry, Kelly! Them's the rules!"

What does it mean? It means that the creator of A.R.S., now Kelly, a female, was in fact, once a man named Scott.

Question is, was the originator of A.R.S. a critic, or a Scientologist? Either way, it's pretty damned funny.

Original Wikitruth article is here: "What a Difference A Year Makes!"

Full bio on "Kelly Martin" is here:

Ode to a Chump

You swine. You vulgar little maggot. You worthless bag of filth. As we say
in Texas. I'll bet you couldn't pour piss out of a boot with instructions
on the heel. You are a canker. A sore that won't go away. I would rather
kiss a lawyer than be seen with you.

You're a putrescent mass, a walking vomit. You are a spineless little worm
deserving nothing but the profoundest contempt. You are a jerk, a cad, a
weasel. Your life is a monument to stupidity. You are a stench, a
revulsion, a big suck on a sour lemon.

You are a bleating foal, a curdled staggering mutant dwarf smeared
richly with the effluvia and offal accompanying your alleged birth
into this world. An insensate, blinking calf, meaningful to nobody,
abandoned by the puke-drooling, giggling beasts who sired you and
then killed themselves in recognition of what they had done.

I will never get over the embarrassment of belonging to the same species as
you. You are a monster, an ogre, a malformation. I barf at the very thought
of you. You have all the appeal of a paper cut. Lepers avoid you. You are
vile, worthless, less than nothing. You are a weed, a fungus, the dregs of
this earth. And did I mention you smell?

Try to edit your responses of unnecessary material before attempting to
impress us with your insight. The evidence that you are a nincompoop
will still be available to readers, but they will be able to access it
more rapidly.

You snail-skulled little rabbit. Would that a hawk pick you up, drive
its beak into your brain, and upon finding it rancid set you loose to
fly briefly before spattering the ocean rocks with the frothy pink shame
of your ignoble blood. May you ckoke on the queasy, convulsing nausea
of your own trite, foolish beliefs.

You are weary, stale, flat and unprofitable. You are grimy, squalid, nasty
and profane. You are foul and disgusting. You're a fool, an ignoramus.
Monkeys look down on you. Even sheep won't have sex with you. You are
unreservedly pathetic, starved for attention, and lost in a land that
reality forgot.

And what meaning do you expect your delusionally self-important statements
of unknowing, inexperienced opinion to have with us? What fantasy do you
hold that you would believe that your tiny-fisted tantrums would have more
weight than that of a leprous desert rat, spinning rabidly in a circle,
waiting for the bite of the snake?

You are a waste of flesh. You have no rhythm. You are ridiculous and
obnoxious. You are the moral equivalent of a leech. You are a living
emptiness, a meaningless void. You are sour and senile. You are a disease,
you puerile one-handed slack-jawed drooling meatslapper.

On a good day you're a half-wit. You remind me of drool. You are deficient
in all that lends character. You have the personality of wallpaper. You are
dank and filthy. You are asinine and benighted. You are the source of all
unpleasantness. You spread misery and sorrow wherever you go.

You smarmy lagerlout git. You bloody woofter sod. Bugger off, pillock.
You grotty wanking oik artless base-court apple-john. You clouted boggish
foot-licking twit. You dankish clack-dish plonker. You gormless
crook-pated tosser. You churlish boil-brained clotpole ponce. You
cockered bum-bailey poofter. You craven dewberry pisshead cockup pratting
naff. You gob-kissing gleeking flap-mouthed coxcomb. You dread-bolted
fobbing beef-witted clapper-clawed flirt-gill.

You are a fiend and a coward, and you have bad breath. You are degenerate,
noxious and depraved. I feel debased just for knowing you exist. I despise
everything about you, and I wish you would go away.

I cannot believe how incredibly stupid you are. I mean rock-hard stupid.
Dehydrated-rock-hard stupid. Stupid so stupid that it goes way beyond
the stupid we know into a whole different dimension of stupid. You are
trans-stupid stupid. Meta-stupid. Stupid collapsed on itself so far
that even the neutrons have collapsed. Stupid gotten so dense that no
intellect can escape. Singularity stupid. Blazing hot mid-day sun on
Mercury stupid. You emit more stupid in one second than our entire
galaxy emits in a year. Quasar stupid. Your writing has to be a troll.
Nothing in our universe can really be this stupid. Perhaps this is some
primordial fragment from the original big bang of stupid. Some pure
essence of a stupid so uncontaminated by anything else as to be beyond
the laws of physics that we know. I'm sorry. I can't go on. This is
an epiphany of stupid for me. After this, you may not hear from me again
for a while. I don't have enough strength left to deride your ignorant
questions and half baked comments about unimportant trivia, or any of
the rest of this drivel. Duh.

the only thing worse than your logic is your manners. I have snipped
away most of what you wrote, because, well... it didn't really
say anything. Your attempt at constructing a creative flame was pitiful.
I mean, really, stringing together a bunch of insults among a load of
babbling was hardly effective... Maybe later in life, after you have
learned to read, write, spell, and count, you will have more success.
True, these are rudimentary skills that many of us "normal" people take
for granted that everyone has an easy time of mastering. But we sometimes
forget that there are "challenged" persons in this world who find these
things more difficult. If I had known, that this was your case then I
would have never read your post. It just wouldn't have been "right".
Sort of like parking in a handicap space. I wish you the best of luck
in the emotional, and social struggles that seem to be placing such a
demand on you.

---------------------------------cut here------------------------------- 

(c) copyright 1999 by
someone else.

(check all boxes that apply)


[ ] Clueless Newbie [ ] Lamer [ ] Flamer
[ ] Loser [ ] Spammer [ ] Troller
[ ] "Me too" er [ ] Pervert [ ] Geek
[ ] Freak [ ] Nerd [ ] Elvis
[ ] Racist [ ] Fed [ ] Freak
[ ] Fundamentalist [ ] Satanist [ ] Homeopath
[ ] Unbearably self-righteous person

I took exception to your recent:

[ ] Email [ ] Post to ____________________.

It was (check all that apply):

[ ] Lame [ ] Stupid [ ] Abusive
[ ] Clueless [ ] Idiotic [ ] Brain-damaged
[ ] Imbecilic [ ] Arrogant [ ] Malevolent
[ ] Contemptible [ ] Libelous [ ] Ignorant
[ ] Clueless [ ] Stupid [ ] Fundamentalist
[ ] Boring [ ] Dim [ ] Cowardly
[ ] Deceitful [ ] Demented [ ] Self-righteous
[ ] Crazy [ ] Weird [ ] Hypocritical
[ ] Loathsome [ ] Satanic [ ] Despicable
[ ] Belligerent [ ] Mind-numbing [ ] Maladroit
[ ] Much longer than any worthwhile thought of which you may be capable.

Your attention is drawn to the fact that:

[ ] You posted what should have been emailed
[ ] You obviously don't know how to read your newsgroups line
[ ] You are trying to make money on a non-commercial newsgroup
[ ] You self-righteously impose your religious beliefs on others
[ ] You self-righteously impose your racial beliefs on others
[ ] You posted a binary in a non-binaries group
[ ] You don't know which group to post in
[ ] You posted something totally uninteresting
[ ] You crossposted to *way* too many newsgroups
[ ] I don't like your tone of voice
[ ] What you posted has been done before.
[ ] Not only that, it was also done better the last time.
[ ] You quoted an *entire* post in your reply
[ ] You started a long, stupid thread
[ ] You continued spreading a long stupid thread
[ ] Your post is absurdly off topic for where you posted it
[ ] You posted a followup to crossposted robot-generated spam
[ ] You posted a "test" in a discussion group rather than in alt.test
[ ] You posted a "YOU ALL SUCK" message
[ ] You posted low-IQ flamebait
[ ] You posted a blatantly obvious troll
[ ] You followed up to a blatantly obvious troll
[ ] You said "me too" to something
[ ] You make no sense
[ ] Your sig/alias is dreadful
[ ] You must have spent your life in a skinner box to be this clueless.
[ ] You posted a phone-sex ad
[ ] You posted a stupid pyramid money making scheme
[ ] You claimed a pyramid-scheme/chain letter for money was legal
[ ] Your margin settings (or lack of) make your post unreadable. Each line
just goes on and on, not stopping at 75 characters, making it hard to read.
[ ] You posted in ELitE CaPitALs to look k0OwL
[ ] You posted a message in ALL CAPS, and you don't even own a TRS-80
[ ] You have greatly misunderstood the purpose of this newsgroup.
[ ] You have greatly misunderstood the purpose of the Internet.
[ ] You are a loser.
[ ] This has been pointed out to you before.
[ ] You didn't do anything specific, but appear to be so generally
worthless that you are being flamed on general principles.

It is recommended that you:

[ ] Get a clue
[ ] Get a life
[ ] Go away
[ ] Grow up
[ ] Never post again
[ ] Read every newsgroup you posted to for a week
[ ] stop reading Usenet news and get a life
[ ] stop sending Email and get a life
[ ] Bust up your modem with a hammer and eat it
[ ] Have your medication adjusted
[ ] Jump into a bathtub while holding your monitor
[ ] find a volcano and throw yourself in
[ ] get a gun and shoot yourself
[ ] Actually post something relevant
[ ] Read the FAQ
[ ] stick to FidoNet and come back when you've grown up
[ ] Apologize to everybody in this newsgroup
[ ] consume excrement
[ ] consume excrement and thus expire
[ ] Post your tests to alt.test/misc.test
[ ] Put your home phone number in your ads from now on
[ ] Refrain from posting until you have a vague idea what you're doing

In Closing, I'd Like to Say:

[ ] You need to seek psychiatric help
[ ] Take your gibberish somewhere else
[ ] *plonk*
[ ] Learn how to post or get off the usenet
[ ] Most of the above
[ ] All of the above
[ ] Some of the above, not including All of the above
[X] You are so clueless that I didn't even bother filling in this form.

end "standardized form"----------------------------

You are hypocritical, greedy, violent, malevolent, vengeful, cowardly,
deadly, mendacious, meretricious, loathsome, despicable, belligerent,
opportunistic, barratrous, contemptible, criminal, fascistic, bigoted,
racist, sexist, avaricious, tasteless, idiotic, brain-damaged, imbecilic,
insane, arrogant, deceitful, demented, lame, self-righteous, byzantine,
conspiratorial, satanic, fraudulent, libelous, bilious, splenetic,
spastic, ignorant, clueless, illegitimate, harmful, destructive, dumb,
evasive, double-talking, devious, revisionist, narrow, manipulative,
paternalistic, fundamentalist, dogmatic, idolatrous, unethical, cultic,
diseased, suppressive, controlling, restrictive, malignant, deceptive,
dim, crazy, weird, dystopic, stifling, uncaring, plantigrade, grim,
unsympathetic, jargon-spouting, censorious, secretive, aggressive,
mind-numbing, arassive, poisonous, flagrant, self-destructive, abusive,
socially-retarded, puerile, clueless, and generally Not Good.

Do I Win?

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Disjointed Rambings of a Wayward Mind

I wanna talk a bit about the game Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic (KOTOR), PC version a bit. I'll get the pedestrian shit out of the way first; nice, pretty graphics, easy interface for selecting characters, equipping stuff and so on and obviously some really decent work went into the dialogue, voice acting, screenplay and script. Not to mention tha character's rendering when speaking their lines has been done very well...

Now for the off the wall stuff.. Stuff that is just... strange. Those of you familiar with the game may understand what I'm talking about, and those of you who haven't played, well, just move on...

Carth Needs to Get Laid: In quite a few of the scenes where I had to talk to Carth's character, I have to admit.. Carth creeped me out. I'd start the convo, and the dirty bugger looked for all the world like he was standing right behind my character, whipering into my ear... I mean, to be that close behind someone and talking to them like that... It's just creepy. Not to mention the fact that this happened exclusively when I was playing a MALE character.... I guess it's true what they say about losing your wife and then spending sooooo much time wandering space....

Most Useless Supporting Party Characters EVER: The consternation of spending 2000 credits on a droid only to use it once. The utility droid at Janice Nall's store on Taris is the biggest waste of creds in the game. You never use him again. Then there's Juhanni, the cat-gal who turned to the Dark Side you talk out of being such a bad little neko-chan on Dantooine and eventually get to take with you on your further adventures. She serves no purpose (except whining), and there's no use of her on any of the other worlds you visit in your quest. She doesn't even activate any sidequests. Runner up was Zaalbar the Wookie... at least he came in handy on Kashyyk, but after that, he was only good for spinning Wookie-wool for future use as coats on Hoth.

The New LucasArts "Circle Jerk" Game Engine: The object clipping in the game, though for the most part, ok, tended to make some rather awkward visuals. More than once, I'd direct a character to go get something or interact with another individual and one of the party would be standing right in the way. Apparantly the AI wasn't programmed to get the offending piece of blockage out of the way, so said character stands there like a big, reeking pile of meat, looking at you stupidly. Your character winds up doing a funny little dance in front of them and it looks for all the world that you're being held against your will in a corner while being forced to give the other member of the party a handjob. And you'd better make it good, cause you ain't going anywhere else. Creeeeeepyyyyyy.

Award Winner: Best Supporting Cast of Whiners.Ever: First prize goes to Juhanni who, despite being utterly useless for anything but consuming the oxygen supply of the Ebon Hawk, continually whines about how hard life was on Taris, how she was a freak, how dad abused stims, mom worked herself to death, how she's angsting about wrestling with her dark side emotions... Blah blah blah... She shouldn't be a Jedi, she should be enrolled in high school, dressing in lots of black, listening to Bauhaus, The Smiths, The Cure and keeping a whiny, angsty Emo-charged LJ. Fucking latchkey kids.... Then there's Carth, who has this whole bad vibe thing going down with his massive trust issues and fresh mouth when all you're trying to do is be nice to the flaming idiot. When I played the dark side through, I was *glad* the complaining dipshit got stranded on the Star Forge planet, running off into the wilds of said planet with the fish folk who would probably capture him and eat his brains... true intergalactic junk food and total empty calories. At least Zaalbar had a true shred of dignity and kept his fuzzy gob shut when he wasn't on Kashyyk and didn't bother you with his pressing mental imbalances and issues about stuff no one cared about anyway. Hell, let's stuff Jolee Bindo in there too, with his "betrayed by my wife, love doesn't stink, passion does" schtick. Don't even get me started on Baztich-la and her "mommy issues" and raging penis envy. Everyone on this adventure had a major headfuck going on except for the glorified doorstop of a utility droid you never use again. Even the HK-47 assasination driod had a severe case of subversive passive-aggressiveness and azhiemer's issues. I was almost waiting for Jolee to start winding up the convo on how his hemorrhoids were a sign of the encroaching shadow of the dark side or something....

Can't Buy Me Love: Playing a female? Forget romance. You'll be using your lightsaber hilt (ancient Jedi secret!) on those long, lonely nights zipping across hyperspace. Oh sure, there's a *hint* of flirtation with Carth (who really needs to get laid AND has trust issues, remember? He wouldn't respect you in the morning), but in the end, you get nothing. Of course, play a male character, and you *know* you're gonna get laid like a champ.Nope... no sexism here, no sir!

Bitchtila: Was it just me, or did anyone else want to take a blunt object and stave this bitch's skull right in from word one? Right from the get go, she's all over the "I'm taking charge" angle, trying to piss all over everyone like an Alpha male dog marking it's pack. Add the hoity-toity Brit accent, and it becomes all the more grating. Perhaps she was an additional test, aimed directly at the end player, to test their resolve and "Jedi light side instincts"; the longer they could resist ripping their sound card out of their box and putting their fist through the monitor whenever "Baztich-la" appeared on the screen and opened her dinner manglers, the more "light side" the player was in the real world. It's the only logical answer... that or a torture device as retribution for poor sales of Star Wars: Rebellion...

The Aliens Talk Too Fucking Much: Never fails... it's like a bad Kung-Fu movie overdub job... the dubbed english ends, but the damned mouth keeps on moving and moving... The like malaise in KOTOR is the length of time and dialogue it takes for an alien species to get to the bloody point. 10 minutes of "E chu ta monochi danni no bo bo" from some Twi'lek just to say "Thank you" is too bloody much. Of course,one of the reasons behind it could be so that people reading the subtitles can get it all, but come on! If you're reading as slow as some of these alien characters take to deliver their dialogue, you're in a hospital, wearing a hockey helmet and breathing through your mouth with a drool cup hanging under your chin (I wonder what that would say about LucasArts/BioWare?)

Teh Fun! I'll have you know I played the game honourably, beginning to end. Once that's done, what do you do? BRING ON THE CHEATS!! Nothing like being able to dispatch the strongest of foes with a single sweep of your lightsaber... Giving yourself 5,000,000 credits so you can bugger off to Yavin and buy all that *really* cool shit from that wacky Rodian in the space station... giving yourself the smarts to slice any computer with NO SPIKES or pumping up you're attributes so everyone is admiring you for that big, sexy brain of yours.... but one of the most fun cheat codes, once you've activated the ability in the .ini file, is "dancedancemalak". The result of this entry, is when it comes time for the final climactic battle between the now reformed, new and improved light side version of Darth Revan and the evil, bent, jawless Darth Malak on the enigmatic Star Forge, lightsabers are drawn, fighting positions taken and..... Darth Malak turns into a Twi'lek dancing girl and your character dances with him for a couple of moments... roll ending. Teh Funney!

And that's my reflections on KOTOR. A good game overall, but in some spots too creepy and some aspects just a bit annoying.


Finally, the broad who owed me the $130 from the haul job paid up. Not without struggle, of course. I managed to get hold of her cell after blocking my number from her call display, and she claimed she would get back to me "in 15 - 20mins." All day is a looooong 15 - 20, lemme tell ya. Thereafter, she had her cell turned off (cept when she wanted to use it, no doubt). Finally, I'd had enough and went to her home at 7pm, parking my Jeep in front of her driveway (no escape, my dear). I knocked on her door, waited 3 minutes and next thing I know, the door opens and there she is, checkbook in hand. No pretense of "Oh, it's you! Wait while I get cash/checkbook/whatever"... it was right there. She knew her stalling time was up. She gave me a check for the full amount. Now, some of you may think I'm crazy to accept a check, but there is a method to this madness; if that check bounces, or is cancelled by her, it becomes a criminal act and I can walk it right to the cops instead of having to waste my own money on lawyer fees, court processing fees and so forth under a civil action of her just not paying, since the cops fraud squad will be able to pick her up for hanging bad paper on me.

Shit, and this whole thing only took, what... a MONTH?

Cya in the funny papers kiddies!

Vienna Calling

Not much to say here.... just to say that I found out that one of my fave 80's artists, Falco, who was responsible for such hits as "Rock Me Amadeus", "Jeanny" (if you can, download the video on BearShare. It's a powerful piece) and "Vienna Calling", died in the Dominican Republic where he's been living in relative obscurity, in a terrible car crash and died of massive head injuries.

Sometimes life just sucks.
Stella sitzt in Rio - Stella liegt in Tokyo
Mnner fragen sie nach Feuer, nach dem andern sowieso
Sugar Chris dich sehr vermit-dein Bein und dein Gesicht
Du kannst auf mich verzichten-nur auf Luxus nicht
Womit spielen klein Mdchen heute, hier und dort und da,
Und in Tucson, Arizona; Toronto, Canada.

Wien, nur Wien du kennst mich up, kennst mich down
Du kennst mich.
Nur Wien, nur Wien, du nur allein
Wohin sind deine Frau'n.

Ohoho, operator (so alone am I)
Ohoho, operator (need you to) come tonight

Hello, Vienna calling
Hello, hello, Vienna calling...
Vienna calling
Two, one, zero - Der Alarm ist rot
Wien in Not - Cha, Cha, Cha
Vienna calling, Vienna calling

Und pltzlich heit Maria Marilyn
Und Eva heit Yvonne
Ein junger Bogart hngt dir an den Lippen, Kleines, und sagt komm
Die Lockenpracht wird komm abgemacht
Die Tnzer sind gestoppt
Es ist 4 Uhr 45, nun wird Position geprobt
Womit spielen kleine Mdchen heute, hier und dort und da
Ob in Tucson, Arizona; Toronto, Canada

Wien, nur Wien du kennst mich up, kennst mich down
Du kennst mich.
Nur Wien, nur Wien, du nur allein
Wohin sind deine Frau'n.

Ohoho, operator (so alone am I)
Ohoho, operator (need you to) come tonight

Hello, Vienna calling
Hello, hello, Vienna calling...
Vienna calling
Two, one, zero - Der Alarm ist rot
Wien in Not - Cha, Cha, Cha
Vienna calling, Vienna calling

Forever Young

let's dance in style, lets dance for a while
heaven can wait we're only watching the skies
hoping for the best but expecting the worst
are you going to drop the bomb or not?

let us die young or let us live forever
we don't have the power but we never say never
sitting in a sandpit, life is a short trip
the music's for the sad men

can you imagine when this race is won
turn our golden faces into the sun
praising our leaders we're getting in tune
the music's played by the... the madmen

forever young, i want to be forever young
do you really want to live forever, forever and ever
forever young, i want to be forever young
do you really want to live forever...
forever young

some are like water, some are like the heat
some are a melody and some are the beat
sooner or later they all will be gone
why don't they stay young

it's so hard to get old without a cause
i don't want to perish like a fading horse
youth is like diamonds in the sun
and diamonds are forever

so many adventures couldn't happen today
so many songs we forgot to play
so many dreams are swinging out of the blue
we let them come true

forever young, i want to be forever young
do you really want to live forever, forever and ever
forever young, i want to be forever young
do you really want to live forever....


You watch a clock and it's hands turn slowly....

It's when you turn your back to the clock that they move in a blurr.

Close your eyes and it's another day. Close your eyes and something else goes away. Or something comes to you. but when it's time you're dealing with, it's usually something you don't want....

Another wrinkle,
Another ache,
Another something you need pills for
Another gray hair....

Another birthday, anniversary or what have you....

And the things that go away. Well...

Time has kith and kin... distance and memory for example. Every once in a while hate comes to the family gathering.

At that gathering, the gifts are always handed out with an overexuberant joy usually reserved for party clowns on way too much methamphetemine; pain, heartbreak, remorse, regret, sadness, yearning.... All big sellers every year in the store of the heart.

When that party is over, you notice time has been hyperactive (too much sugar in the cake). The grab bag at the door as you leave contains treats like crows feet, male pattern baldness, failing vision, a few new grey hairs to add to your collection or someone letting you become a distant memory as they move on in life... You could be the lucky party guest and get a grab bag of regret with a helping of loss and heartache... hey, it's time's party, and he'll screw who he wants to.

And you go on with your back to that clock yet again, closing your eyes over and over and watching the days spin past, a new year come in. And go.

And then your life is gone.... did you love anyone? Did anyone love you? Do you remember anyone? Did anyone remember you? And you look in a mirror, the cruel brother of time. The sandbox bully of life. you wonder where it's gone. What's happened? Worst of all, you think "Why me?"

Time allows you an indulgance though... Introspection. It's not a nice indulgance though, often being more destructive than helpful.... With this indulgence come the strings; the ones that lance your feet, wrists and torso with the chains of memory. The most painful is the chain that runs to the soul, as it's inserted and withdrawn over and over, always taking someting with it...

You fight the puppeteer, always to no avail... You're time's bitch, and he'll trade you to his "roomates" Despair or Loss for a carton of Marlboros...

I only hope that I can fight time enough so that my friends will always be dear to me and I to them. that I am always there to share their pain, and them mine. Like passed notes in a jail cell, I hope that fate is kind enough to me not to let me loose the gossamer thin connection with what few true friends I have in this world.


Helstinki Jail 8/7/85
--------- ---- ------

NAIL - a travelogue and guided tour

Concept at work: OPPRESSION

Half a man as a shadow of his former self... It ain't very pretty
what a little less liberty can do to your self esteem. Take out
the spirit, give it forty lashes, a cuppa cold java and a stale
cracker. Slap its wrist with a hammer, slam it black inna slammer.

Sometimes/alla time/everywhere I look/a coupla dozen places I don't
Is the throne of agony.
Cos it's me doing the looking.
And it's nagging me. And it sure as hell gets me down.
So you alter your consciousness (you're on the throne of agony and
you wanna get out of it)
Try and alter your conscience.
I pick myself up offa da floor
And crawl ma way to the front door (bolted from the outside again).
And feel rotten to the core. One bad apple in a barrel of shit.
Tear out your throat trying to tear out that hideous self-imposed
cancer of oppression.

Throw another bottle into the fire. Throttle up the mire, this liar's
for hire. Tear out your heart. And remind yourself
So I wear the crown of "THE EVIL KNIEVEL OF BETHLEHEM" with sin
scrawled all over ma face, trapped in an early earthly ALKATRAZ
(And all that jazz)... so what?
But what if your roar ain't a roar no more and all that comes out
is a squeak?

Head Held High --> Sledgehammer to the soul --> Sludge to the skull

GOD MY HEAD HURTS. Too much thinking and not enough brain cells.


PIGSWILL: You can take the ham outa the man but not the BONER.
You can take the ham outa the man but not the PIG.
You can take the will from a man but not the SWILL.
And if you take the PIG outa the MAN you sure as hell
are gonna be stuck with the PORK. And a stuck pig.
SO... this dynamic duo of psycho-dirt tour the West Coast, see?
Sure, they's fuckin' and-a killin' looseboys and poisongirls,
leaving 'em in shallow callous graves. NO REMORSE. NO FEAR. NO
GUILT. Two bad-assed hell-raisin' hobo bozo dudes on one
helluva bender.

Wadda wayda make a livin'. Booze and butts and hotrods and death

Then sleepy bear beckons. Turn on the TV, the shower, wash off some
of that dirt and blood and fresh kiddymeat stank. Drop a coupla

But for PIGSWILL - well, the thrills is kinda cheap but mebbe...
not... enough... She looks so peaceful lying there, all curled
up like a cute little kitten...


Hack Hack Hacketty Hack, buddy. Hack it!!

A thousand year sleep she won't forget. So leave a bloody
autograph - shit!, she was on the rag! - and run a trademark
up the flagpole.
Hell yeah! alright!
There'll be a hot time in the old town tonight (like to the tune
of 100,000 volts, man!)

There's no lights on the Christmas tree, mama, they're burning
PIGSWILL tonight (sniff... hmm... makin' bacon?)

Thus endeth Pigswill's terror rain/reign of oppression. PHEW-WEE!


Oppression is the opium of the people. Someone up there thinks so
anyhow. There must be some kinda romance in being dumb. Why,
everyone's doing it.

Prints and mugshots, needles and pins
A happy man is a man that grins. Say cheese? Fat chance.
Pills and needles, needles and pills
The condemned man eats a hearty gruel.

The media comprehensively
catalogues his demise. Sick men one and all. TOIN DA TABLES

I wonder what time it is?

I'm gonna implode.
Descension downdowndown on a none way trip.
Bosch looks like a beach party round here
Wallowing like a beached shark in hell-lay. One heckuva town, mama!
Sun shines bright thru the smog and fuzz of HILLBILLY-HOOOOOOOO.
Hell-belly-hoodoo-hood. That's Hollywood!
Four score and ten years ago (I'll have you know) someone died and
left me with a legacy to shake off. And I'm shaking like an
Eskimo Chihuahua... to no avail. It's enough to make a bulldog
break his chain.

It's enough to drive a man to drink. And god knows all you do here
is drive. The plastic upholstery, the dash, the furry dice
become your environment. The two-headed dog bobs its head in the
back, eyes ablaze in disapproving hellfire every time you brake.
And you break a lot around here.
The suspense sure ain't killing me but I wish it would. The
expressions are pathetic, the excuses are poor. Every crevice
filled with a shiny new disease, malaise or vermin. Have a nice
day - see you in court - eat lead, mother - get offa ma grass
or I'll bust yo ass.

Bugs are attracted to flashing light. Barflies. Fireflies. Roaches.
And they die every fucking night and fuck in the dying night.
Straight and narrow wrinkle roads and winkle pickers, barbed wire
tumbleweeds and "let's hit Tijuana, let's hit Vegas, let's beat
ourselves to death."

Am I oppressing myself or has L.A. taken over the task?
It isn't very pretty what a town without pity can do.


SO... enter the exterminator...
I live in a concentration camp.
Black smoke belches from the chimneys of huge crematoriums.
Tangled corpses clog mass graves. The final act of those who die
in the gas chamber is involuntary defecation. The dead are in a
pile in a corner of the room, the sick and weak and old crushed
to the bottom of the pile; the strong claw their way to the top
for their final gasps of life. Faces sickeningly distorted.
The spectacle of mounds of SPECTACLES, false teeth, wrenched gold
teeth. MOUNDS. And rigor mortis claws in death grips clutching
the last vestiges of their entire existences in the form of once
treasured heirlooms, baubles and trinkets. (Breaak those fingers
open) Lambs to the slaughter. Muslims herded head first for

Man's inhumanity to man and woman and SIC'EM, BWAH! LET 'EM HAVE
Fill up the hole, mac.
No hope. No comfort. No pity.
Just iron scrap, a shred of skin (a nice new lampshade), a bitten
fingernail, a stale moldy crust of bread, a hank of hair. A bar
of soap.
And public outcry for the death penalty roars.
Cops use clubs and stunguns to enforce the law.
The troops're coming over the hill... the nation's forced
to swallow its bitterest pill.
Reagan's laying wreaths on SS graves. Viva Union Carbide.
Bring back conscription if all else fails.
Tear down tenements and put up jails.

Turn the screw until it bleeds, then turn it again.
Soul cannibals of the genocide. I'll meet you in Poland, Baby.
I didn't raise my boy to be a soldier.
I feel sick.


The telephone number of the Spahn Ranch was DI-1-9026. Creepy Crawl.
Everyone thinks he's the new Charlie. Shit or get off the pot.
Pills and needles, needles and pills
A happy man is a man that kills.
Neo jailboids detained at the leisure and pleasure of a lumbering
dinosaural bureaucracy. A week - or is it a month? - languishing
in a dead air cell bathed in the stink of years sweat and scum
and shit and piss. The toilet won't flush. I could use a shaveand a bath.
I wish the neighbouring junkie would stop banging his head on his cell door.


I need a drink
I feel sick
I wonder what time it is?


Welcome to PIGDOM COME!
"... as a Soldier of the Cross I find it necessary to keep in touch
with headquarters from time to time..."
WELL... when the tower of Babel is aflame and on the wane, you pack
up your ivory towers in your old kit bag and cry cry cry cry cry...
You escape this early earthly Alkatraz already (you're on the throne
of agony and you wanna get out of it)
Make a withdrawal from this earthly deposit!
Plot your plot now! (Why kill time...)
One foot in the womb one foot in the tomb with (thalidomide) arms
(too short to box with god...)
("life is shit and then you die")
When the role is called up yonder, when I buy a ticket to visit my
ancestors, I'll be halfway to Pigdom Come.
PIGDOME COME! Garden of processed delights! Procession of perfumed
gardens (sometimes your best friend won't tell you...)
Disney Schmaltz Pretention Production as COD HEAVEN (there
must be a cod in heaven - just follow the yellow brick road)
Tack Exotica! Knights in shining armour just CLANKING for
a joust with their maker. Duelling for the monument to
bad taste and insult.

Bang on a drum til PIGDOM COME - and see if I care...
Peace thru Superior Firepower or escape thru the Father Superior.
But that end of our life is RETRIBUTION, my melancholy baby. (I'll try anything once)
The inscription on my tombstone reads "Wish You Were Here"
I died every NIGHT for a thousand years
I met my maker and I don't like what I see - my reflection staring
back at me.

(KILL ME, BABY - or pass me another NAIL)



In a thousand years, who'll know the difference?
You live outside the law - you die outside the law


Get outa the closet and into the fray... rattle them shackles
Apres moi... le deluge
No one's leaving me a legacy to shake off cos
You tell the truth you go to the guillotine
Lose your head, lose your mind but your conscience is clean
Don't buy into no one else's dream


So you pack your lungs fulla nicotine
And pack a coupla bottles of gasoline


And when the role is called up yonder
I'll be halfway to PIGDOM COME
People who live in assholes shouldn't throw stones
People who act as dicks must expect to be treated as such

Comrade Kiev

I watch the papers every day,
They drink the same cup of tea,
I read the TV every day,
They deal the same cards for me,
I turn my head now to the left,
See the Marx upon your face,
I turn my head now to the right,
See the darkness of your light

And I see the flags you've raised,
Through the glory that we've praised,
As a child who stands amazed,
At the craziness we've paved

And the sun will shine through wintertime,
I pray the rain will someday end the flame

Shoot Komrade Kiev,
That's what they say to me
Shoot comrade Kiev,
Shoot Komrade Kiev,
That's what they're tellin me,
Shoot Komrade Kiev

And through the pride and prejudice
You blind the truth you couldn't miss,
For the target you have drawn,
Won't bite the hand that cuts the arm,
And when the story's finally told,
Each man's heart was bought and sold,
There was no enemy you see,
Only the doubt in you and me

And the sun will shine through wintertime,
I pray the rain will someday end the flame

Shoot Komrade Kiev,
That's what they say to me
Shoot comrade Kiev,
Shoot Komrade Kiev,
That's what they're tellin me,
Shoot Komrade Kiev

I've walked through mother Russia
In the cold of winter time
And I've seen
Every mountain that each man wants to climb

But I know -
Farewell to arms
That one day the sun will shine

Shoot Komrade Kiev (x7)


All the World's Indeed a Stage

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May 2008


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