Monday

An interesting factoid about Florida : They used to shoot Tarzan movies here – in the Ocala National Forest outside Ocala, Florida . They brought monkeys to appear in the movies, but some of the monkeys escaped from the movie set and into the forest. Many of them survived in the forest – eating what they could find. They maintained their numbers and actually increased their numbers. There is a particular tourist destination called Silver Springs where one can ride in a touring trolley and view the wildlife of Florida – wildlife which now includes these monkeys. The monkeys, however, have turned into a bit of a menace. They have been known to jump aboard the tourist trolley and rage on the passengers – biting and scratching at them, stealing items and so on. I heard an amazing story about these monkeys: Once there was a horrible outbreak of rabies among the monkey population. These already peevish monkeys took a turn for the supremely evil. Their sudden and terrible change of behavior was first noticed on one of the touring trolleys. A crazed, rabies aflicted monkey snatched out the eyeball of a small child and ate it right before the incredulous eyes of the other passengers. All tourism in the area ceased. Terrified residents cowered in their homes, and martial law was declared in all the towns surrounding the Ocala National Forest . To make things even worse, a tractor trailer carrying a shipment of switchblade knives wrecked near the forest dumping its contents all over the roadway. Approximately 70 monkeys swooped in and armed themselves. They made a mess out of the poor driver of the tractor trailer, and then they charged into Ocala, slicing to ribbons anyone foolish enough to disobey the order to stay indoors. So by now you’ve realized that... well, read here.

And then you might as well read about these lucky ass cats.

Wednesday

Temp Busted Selling Stolen Calculators

Who, in your world, is normal then?!?!

Tuesday

Florida: A State Full of Dummies

Monday

. . . serious consequences for slackers . . .

Sunday

Antique show thugs!

Three Minute Megaphone - An Event

More complaints, it’s all I’m good for lately: When somebody is talking talking talking, and you have to compete with the person to talk, they’ll talk over you, every subject you bring up - they have some comment on - no matter how uninformed - and even if they realize they are uninformed on a subject - they’ll talk and laugh and joke about that: “I know absolutely nothing about that, that must not have anything to do with anything, I don’t care about that, people actually care about that? I’d rather talk about this other subject - namely - me, and all the things that I do and my opinions. Why would you bring up something like that which I have no comment on, which I have no knowledge of . . .” It becomes a contest, who can get their speeches in, sometimes you say something, and then they start talking, they’re trying to talk over you, and you refuse to stop talking because it’s always you who stops talking, and it’s you who yields the floor to this babbling, hyperactive bratt - so you’re talking and they’re talking and everybody else is looking back and forth between you two like it’s a tennis match . . . I start to shut down. I start to wonder why the hell I was talking anyway. It’s just chatting, small talk, or maybe not small talk - maybe it’s heady stuff - maybe you’re saying important stuff - but it has nothing to do with the task at hand - you’re talking philosophy at work or something. It’s not important to the work at hand, but it is important to you. And maybe others in the room would like to join you in what you’re talking about, but that one babbling bully keeps cutting in on your pieces. So I just resolve myself to . . . what’s the diference? Who cares what anybody talks about? Ever? Let’s just reduce ourselves to mute fuckin animals. No need to have mutually dynamic conversations where each person present contributes and in this way each person present benefits from the knowledge of everybody else and everybody present gains an appreciation and an empathy with everybody else and everybody’s understanding of everybody else’s plight and position and lot and situation in life is understood just a bit better - and you actually have brilliant conversations while you slave away at work --- NO THAT IS JUST SIMPLY NOT ALLOWED BY THE BIG MOUTHED, CONVERSATION BULLY!! So I just shut up and do whatever I’m there to do - like at work. So the person who dominates the conversation - you’re forced to hear what they say. And again, none of the talk is important to what’s actually going on - everybody has exactly the same justification to talk. But this one person just keeps yacking and yacking. So I start making little noises: huffs, puffs, pshh, ffff, ssss, “gyawd,” “ah man” ...each time the conversation hijacker starts up a new thought - and they do vocalize every single thought that occurs to them - each time they start up a new thought, I go “Ah, man....” And they don’t know if it’s because I’ve goofed up something I’m doing on my computer, if I’m pissed that they’re talking again... so that’s kind of funny. And when a person is constantly talking about everything in their life, when they expose so much of themselves: A. They must be a little out of balance... like... mentally. B. They expose their own folly. One should feel sorry for a person who is A. mentally off balance. But it’s hard to feel sorry for a bully. And when they B. expose their own folly, IT GIVES YOU AN OPPORTUNITY FOR A LITTLE SNIPING! That’s right. Whether you do it to try to help them, or to try and shut them down a little, when they talk and talk and talk and talk and finally they expose a fault in themselves, you pounce. For example, the conversation hog might say somethin like, “God. After this long day at work, I have to go home and do my kid’s science project.” And then I said, “Why do you do your kid’s work? How’s he going to learn for himself?” ...and then bang, retreat! I mean, I should not have said it, because now she’s reeling - trying to recover - “Oh, well, I don’t do it all, I mean, I just get him started, I mean ... er ...um, he needs a little help...” And the conversation bully is suprised that you have interjected here - that you have questioned her or challenged her on this point. Why now? Why do I dare to speak now? And she’s already talked and talked and talked all day, and maybe she’s a little weary from all the talkin and maybe she was finally about to shut up and I pounced on this one little thing that she said so now she has to explain in thorough detail the complete situation - like she has to start at the beginning - the circumstances of the kid’s birth and his learning up to this point and pretty soon the conversation bully is telling you how she actually got married wearing a black mourning dress and combat boots that she painted pink because she wanted to work somehow work the bad mojo out early on because her life already seemed like one big jinx up to this point . . . .

Saturday

The bald guy, the guy who became bald, wasn’t bald yesterday, but nobody asked him what happened. They were afraid to. The guy who became bald - Bob, let’s call him - he had a run in at the barber shop. Bob walked into the barber shop and sat down, and he carefully made an accounting of who was there before him and who came in after him. When he determined that it was his turn to get a haircut, Bob got up and moved toward a barber chair. A guy who came in after him spoke up, “Hey, I was here before you. I just went out to my car for a cigarette.”

“Fuck you,” Bob said. “You got out of line. I know there’s no line here - officially - but there is a line. It's understood. So fuck off, you prick.” Bob was in a bad mood a lot lately. Bob couldn’t really remember a time when he was in a good mood, like, steadily.

The guy who spoke up started to get up, and Bob immediately rushed to where the guy was rising out of his chair. Bob had the clear advantage. Bob could have knee’d the guy in the face because the guy wasn’t completely out of his chair yet. Bob figured that would have settled things right there. The guy actually did sit back down.

The guy who backed down, however, knew the barber. So when Bob sat down in the barber chair, the first thing the barber did was shave a clean, bald path right down the center of Bob’s head. Everybody in the barber shop started laughing and screaming. They all knew each other - it turned out. Bob was new in the town. Bob shoved and kicked his way out of there fast!

Bob went home and finished shaving his head. He decided he liked it. He liked it because it was honest. This is what happens to people like Bob. This is how Bob should look. This is how Bob should present himself in public.

Bob went to work Monday, and nobody asked him a goddam thing. They were all scared shitless of Bob, and the new look just heightened that sentiment.

Thursday

A word diet: cuss words not pass words
Florida is a great place to learn how to be old. For personal reasons, I’ve decided that I do indeed want to grow old - no rock star life span for me, hopefully. I want to be mall walkin into my eighties or nineties. I have determined that I will never be able to save up enough money to retire luxuriously - or even comfortably. How much money is a person supposed to save up for retirement? The equivalent of five years salary? Ten? Fifteen? It depends on the kind of lifestyle you want in retirement. It’s the lifestyle crush that breaks people.

I’ve decided that I had better learn how to live cheaply. In Florida , I can learn from the professionals. I learn so much by watching old folks. Listen to them at the cash register, the little tricks they know, the deals, look at the stuff they buy. Look where they live. Look at how they dress. Look at the hours they keep. They know where to be and when to get there - to get the early bird specials.

Saturday

my thought budget

Friday

The cat is licking a looking hole through the fog on the window.

Thursday

This song requires a particular dance.

Wednesday

there when the yelling starts

Thursday

a social liability