This will be a short post I am "waiting" for Satisfaction. I am currently NOT receiving that.
"Alas, poor Lenovo, I knew him..."
-Doc
Tuesday, June 28, 2016
NO SATISFACTION, GUARANTEED
Vendors of all kinds: Guarantee Satisfaction. Usually there is some kind of small print at the page bottom that opts one in for Dissatisfaction. "Roll Over, Play Dead. Wash Your hands Three Times Per day..." It's a Devo thing.
This will be a short post I am "waiting" for Satisfaction. I am currently NOT receiving that.
"Alas, poor Lenovo, I knew him..."
-Doc
This will be a short post I am "waiting" for Satisfaction. I am currently NOT receiving that.
"Alas, poor Lenovo, I knew him..."
-Doc
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
Note To All Telemarketers and Phishing Scam Pirates
Shake Hands With Beef. Commit Suicide.
Bisse Meine Arschloss,
-Doc
Monday, June 20, 2016
Thursday, June 16, 2016
NATIONAL PARKS
Yesterday, I included a story from an Idaho News Source about The Chinese Guy That Left The Boardwalk To Get Some Hot Water at Yellowstone National Park. He was issued a ticket by a Park Ranger for $1,000.00 in commission of said act. Not that Yellowstone National Park nor The United States will ever see one penny of that fine money...
I made a "comment" at the TV Station's Facebook Page and continued on to tell one of my own National Park Fuck Up's Stories. The Rotund, Out Of Shape, Gent From Texas and His Coke Can Over The Rim @ Grand Canyon NRA (National Recreational Area) yarn. It's a true story. I also once "spooked" a "Shave Tail" in a Mule Train, nearly sending an entire group of riders and their Wrangler over the edge but, that's a different story... I did exactly what I was supposed to do: Move to the low side of the trail and stand still. The Shave Tail got a severe whacking, which was warranted. Wranglers have little patience for animals behaving badly.
I have worked "just outside of" a few National Parks. That's where: "All the money is" by the way. If you happen to be either a Waiter or Bartender. I was a Waiter. Near Yellowstone, I worked at Flagg Ranch, a "Guest Ranch" owned by some Dimestore Cowboys from Arizona. Awful people. Don't ever work there. One season, I worked Breakfast Shift in the small, old Restaurant, before The Big Fire. I'm NOT a Breakfast Waiter and both "quit and got fired" in the same instant. I went back, as a sort of necessity, a few years later. Management had changed and there were no records of me ever having worked there previously. I got fired that time, too. I ran The Employee Dining Facility and got stuck in Jackson Hole and was late getting back to The Ranch. Not really my fault but, I didn't care either. It got me away from the Asshole I went there with and back to Salt Lake City, where I walked right back into my Old Job as a Pro Fundraiser for Conservation and Social/Political Action Groups. Flagg Ranch/The Asshole Gypped me out of a good bit of my last paycheck, due to the fact that my Uniform Shirts never made it back to the Company and neither had my bedding. I think that The Asshole simply "appropriated" them all. I never saw the guy again, so, it was worth it.
In Grand Canyon National Recreational Area, I worked for the "old" Tusayan Steakhouse and Social Club. Jim, the owner, was a delightful drunk, whom I had the highest regard for. He was The Salt Of The Earth and would almost literally: "Give you the shirt from his back." His Wife (whom was in the process of taking him to The Cleaners in a divorce) was a different story. I HATED THAT WOMAN. Next to the word "Bitch" in Webster's, (to be cliche') there is a photo of her. The "new" Tusayan Steakhouse is a garbage dump of a restaurant and I would NEVER send my Worst Enemy to eat there. I have not been back to G.C.N.R.A. since my tenure in 1985, nor do I have any plans to go back again. It's a Whole New Place, in general. I would be depressed to see Tusayan, a little "town" about 6 or 7 miles south of the South Entrance to The Park. I HAVE, however, "heard the horror stories" from reliable sources and have zero interest in returning. To either Tusayan or G.C.N.R.A.. I've hiked over 1,000 miles in The Canyon in my spare time and seen everything that I ever wanted to in the area. Burnt the T-Shirt.
Anyway... People seem to think of National Parks as their Personal No Penalty Fuck Up Zone. They are the same people that go to Hawai'i and begin speaking to everybody in BAD Pidgin English and flashing "Shaka" signs everywhere they go. They usually end up either being "taxed" ("robbed") by The Locals or being shunned by all except their own ilk. NOBODY wants to hang out with some drunk Asshole from L.A. (or "wherever") in Hawai'i. I didn't. Actually, I was VERY lucky to have fallen in with some really nice Locals and people I worked with through Maui Public Schools. I worked for a Project that was funded by Rockwell International and The National Science Foundation. The Project involved having students design and/or follow Basic Scientific Formulae, instead of reading a book and taking tests. My job involved rewriting all of the Teachers' and Students' Classroom Manuals and making sense of "what had been sent to us by people on The Mainland" that knew absolutely nothing about Hawai'i or Hawai'ians. I was basically "chained to both a desk and a really nice Canon 5 Color Copier," to make Editing and mass quantities of Instructional Materials for schools around the Island of Maui. I got to do a Photoshoot that depicted: "People In Our Neighborhood" as a plus. The Butcher, Baker, Fireman, Cop and Surfboard Shaper. You get the idea.
National Parks. They are, in a few words: "Sanctuaries of Nature and a slice of What This Place Was Like Before White People Fucked It All Up and built Burger King's and Starbuck's EVERYWHERE." I am pretty "White." Mostly Bavarian. I am also part Souix Indian and Ashkenazim." I'd look pretty good, dressed up like a Hollywood Indian. If it's a Mel Brooks Movie. Mel Brooks purposely cast Jewish Guys as Indians because of their noses. It, of course, was hilarious. I always see the character "Fish" (Abe Vigoda) when I look at Hollywood Indians. I don't look like Abe Vigoda, or Mel Brooks. I'm one of those guys that people say: "Really? Funny, you don't 'look' Jewish," about. I don't look Native American, either. Central Casting wold make me a wood chopper on the Von Trask Property. As a child, I "absolutely refused" to go see: "The Sound Of Music." I hated Julie Andrews for years after that. I had also recently discovered that my Stepfather wasn't my REAL Father and didn't want to go on "Visitation Days" with the other kids. But, that's definitely: "another story."
When you visit Our National Parks, please try to be on your best behavior. For the sake of others and your own sake, if not simply out of respect for "where you currently are." National Parks are NOT "Party Places" or "Penalty Free Fuck Up Zones." You are be offered a privilege. Treat your stay as such. Don't throw trash around, try to be a bit quiet (you might actually learn something) and attempt to act Civilized and Respectful. I know "what that means to me" but, you can make up your own version. In your heart of hearts, you KNOW what it means. Listen to that "Little Voice" and turn off your internal dialog for awhile. You will thank me for this, later.
Go For A Walk. Try Not To Puke,
-Doc
Do NOT Do THIS:
I Love Les Claypool and Primus but, I wouldn't want to have someone camping next to me in a National Park, playing their music for days on end. Homicide would intervene, I am sure.
I made a "comment" at the TV Station's Facebook Page and continued on to tell one of my own National Park Fuck Up's Stories. The Rotund, Out Of Shape, Gent From Texas and His Coke Can Over The Rim @ Grand Canyon NRA (National Recreational Area) yarn. It's a true story. I also once "spooked" a "Shave Tail" in a Mule Train, nearly sending an entire group of riders and their Wrangler over the edge but, that's a different story... I did exactly what I was supposed to do: Move to the low side of the trail and stand still. The Shave Tail got a severe whacking, which was warranted. Wranglers have little patience for animals behaving badly.
I have worked "just outside of" a few National Parks. That's where: "All the money is" by the way. If you happen to be either a Waiter or Bartender. I was a Waiter. Near Yellowstone, I worked at Flagg Ranch, a "Guest Ranch" owned by some Dimestore Cowboys from Arizona. Awful people. Don't ever work there. One season, I worked Breakfast Shift in the small, old Restaurant, before The Big Fire. I'm NOT a Breakfast Waiter and both "quit and got fired" in the same instant. I went back, as a sort of necessity, a few years later. Management had changed and there were no records of me ever having worked there previously. I got fired that time, too. I ran The Employee Dining Facility and got stuck in Jackson Hole and was late getting back to The Ranch. Not really my fault but, I didn't care either. It got me away from the Asshole I went there with and back to Salt Lake City, where I walked right back into my Old Job as a Pro Fundraiser for Conservation and Social/Political Action Groups. Flagg Ranch/The Asshole Gypped me out of a good bit of my last paycheck, due to the fact that my Uniform Shirts never made it back to the Company and neither had my bedding. I think that The Asshole simply "appropriated" them all. I never saw the guy again, so, it was worth it.
In Grand Canyon National Recreational Area, I worked for the "old" Tusayan Steakhouse and Social Club. Jim, the owner, was a delightful drunk, whom I had the highest regard for. He was The Salt Of The Earth and would almost literally: "Give you the shirt from his back." His Wife (whom was in the process of taking him to The Cleaners in a divorce) was a different story. I HATED THAT WOMAN. Next to the word "Bitch" in Webster's, (to be cliche') there is a photo of her. The "new" Tusayan Steakhouse is a garbage dump of a restaurant and I would NEVER send my Worst Enemy to eat there. I have not been back to G.C.N.R.A. since my tenure in 1985, nor do I have any plans to go back again. It's a Whole New Place, in general. I would be depressed to see Tusayan, a little "town" about 6 or 7 miles south of the South Entrance to The Park. I HAVE, however, "heard the horror stories" from reliable sources and have zero interest in returning. To either Tusayan or G.C.N.R.A.. I've hiked over 1,000 miles in The Canyon in my spare time and seen everything that I ever wanted to in the area. Burnt the T-Shirt.
Anyway... People seem to think of National Parks as their Personal No Penalty Fuck Up Zone. They are the same people that go to Hawai'i and begin speaking to everybody in BAD Pidgin English and flashing "Shaka" signs everywhere they go. They usually end up either being "taxed" ("robbed") by The Locals or being shunned by all except their own ilk. NOBODY wants to hang out with some drunk Asshole from L.A. (or "wherever") in Hawai'i. I didn't. Actually, I was VERY lucky to have fallen in with some really nice Locals and people I worked with through Maui Public Schools. I worked for a Project that was funded by Rockwell International and The National Science Foundation. The Project involved having students design and/or follow Basic Scientific Formulae, instead of reading a book and taking tests. My job involved rewriting all of the Teachers' and Students' Classroom Manuals and making sense of "what had been sent to us by people on The Mainland" that knew absolutely nothing about Hawai'i or Hawai'ians. I was basically "chained to both a desk and a really nice Canon 5 Color Copier," to make Editing and mass quantities of Instructional Materials for schools around the Island of Maui. I got to do a Photoshoot that depicted: "People In Our Neighborhood" as a plus. The Butcher, Baker, Fireman, Cop and Surfboard Shaper. You get the idea.
National Parks. They are, in a few words: "Sanctuaries of Nature and a slice of What This Place Was Like Before White People Fucked It All Up and built Burger King's and Starbuck's EVERYWHERE." I am pretty "White." Mostly Bavarian. I am also part Souix Indian and Ashkenazim." I'd look pretty good, dressed up like a Hollywood Indian. If it's a Mel Brooks Movie. Mel Brooks purposely cast Jewish Guys as Indians because of their noses. It, of course, was hilarious. I always see the character "Fish" (Abe Vigoda) when I look at Hollywood Indians. I don't look like Abe Vigoda, or Mel Brooks. I'm one of those guys that people say: "Really? Funny, you don't 'look' Jewish," about. I don't look Native American, either. Central Casting wold make me a wood chopper on the Von Trask Property. As a child, I "absolutely refused" to go see: "The Sound Of Music." I hated Julie Andrews for years after that. I had also recently discovered that my Stepfather wasn't my REAL Father and didn't want to go on "Visitation Days" with the other kids. But, that's definitely: "another story."
When you visit Our National Parks, please try to be on your best behavior. For the sake of others and your own sake, if not simply out of respect for "where you currently are." National Parks are NOT "Party Places" or "Penalty Free Fuck Up Zones." You are be offered a privilege. Treat your stay as such. Don't throw trash around, try to be a bit quiet (you might actually learn something) and attempt to act Civilized and Respectful. I know "what that means to me" but, you can make up your own version. In your heart of hearts, you KNOW what it means. Listen to that "Little Voice" and turn off your internal dialog for awhile. You will thank me for this, later.
Go For A Walk. Try Not To Puke,
-Doc
Do NOT Do THIS:
I Love Les Claypool and Primus but, I wouldn't want to have someone camping next to me in a National Park, playing their music for days on end. Homicide would intervene, I am sure.
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
THE CONTINUING AGONY OF BUSTED ASS MACHINE(S)
My "NEW" Computer still does not work. The Tech spent four hours with it yesterday. The machine is F.U.B.A.R.. It seems there is some Flash Code Imprint Information that is "missing" from the Motherboard. That means that the serial numbers that activate the UVID (Universal Virtual Identification Number) cannot be entered. Which, in turn, means that the OS cannot be installed. I am losing my patience. I, still, own a $250.00 Paper Weight. FUCK.
The BIG QUESTION is: "How much money does the Manufacturer want to spend sending Tech's to my house before they cave in and send me a working machine?" $1,000.00 on Tech's for a $250.00 machine? What kind of business plan is THAT? How do these Fuckers stay in Business?
Up at my usual insane hour of 04:00, writing, reading, drinking Earl Grey, listening to music, doing that which Human beings are "best at": Wasting Time and Farting Around. Again, I borrow from Kurt Vonnegut. I believe the quote to be: "We are here to Fart Around. It's what we are best at." Kurt also said: "Babies, I will tell you One Thing: You've GOT TO BE KIND." I've never met a Kurt Vonnegut quote that I didn't like.
Today, I am pondering "what" to do with the $8.00 I have in my pocket. I'm thinking: "Peanut butter, bread, Top Ramen and maybe some sugar." I DO have food around here but, it's All The Little Things that make the difference.
Today's "project" is to fix the LED light strip to the underside of my kitchen cabinets. So I can actually "see what I'm doing with my dishwashing." The adhesive on the light strip doesn't "stick" so, I'm thinking: "Staple it to the underside of the cupboard." At least the staples could be pulled later to repaint, etc. and I have my lights. I DO NOT want to drive a brad through the light strip. It could screw up the wiring or something. It's fragile stuff. Structural Integrity is key. "Lighting" is one of those things I know a fair amount about. If I can stage light an A List Rock Band, I can do this tiny project. Ya' know? It's not Rocket Surgery.
Suzie, The Rocket Vacuum Cleaner (God Bless Her Dust Bag), might not agree but...
Suzie was NOT an Electrolux, she was a Sears Roebuck but, this is the general idea. I affixed some "Home Made Rockets" to her exterior frame and lit them off. She flew pretty good, for awhile. As previously stated: "We were Young, Bored and Had A Few Beers In Us" when we launched her into the desert. Early 1970's.
R.I.P., Rocket Suzie. It was a Good Death. In The Name Of Science and Fun.
I'd like to Rocket Launch this Computer (The broken one, not this older backup machine I'm currently typing on) right about now but, I think I will let the Manufacturer do that deed.
Peace, Love and Amatuer Vacuum Cleaner Rocketry,
-Doc
The BIG QUESTION is: "How much money does the Manufacturer want to spend sending Tech's to my house before they cave in and send me a working machine?" $1,000.00 on Tech's for a $250.00 machine? What kind of business plan is THAT? How do these Fuckers stay in Business?
Up at my usual insane hour of 04:00, writing, reading, drinking Earl Grey, listening to music, doing that which Human beings are "best at": Wasting Time and Farting Around. Again, I borrow from Kurt Vonnegut. I believe the quote to be: "We are here to Fart Around. It's what we are best at." Kurt also said: "Babies, I will tell you One Thing: You've GOT TO BE KIND." I've never met a Kurt Vonnegut quote that I didn't like.
Today, I am pondering "what" to do with the $8.00 I have in my pocket. I'm thinking: "Peanut butter, bread, Top Ramen and maybe some sugar." I DO have food around here but, it's All The Little Things that make the difference.
Today's "project" is to fix the LED light strip to the underside of my kitchen cabinets. So I can actually "see what I'm doing with my dishwashing." The adhesive on the light strip doesn't "stick" so, I'm thinking: "Staple it to the underside of the cupboard." At least the staples could be pulled later to repaint, etc. and I have my lights. I DO NOT want to drive a brad through the light strip. It could screw up the wiring or something. It's fragile stuff. Structural Integrity is key. "Lighting" is one of those things I know a fair amount about. If I can stage light an A List Rock Band, I can do this tiny project. Ya' know? It's not Rocket Surgery.
Suzie, The Rocket Vacuum Cleaner (God Bless Her Dust Bag), might not agree but...
Suzie was NOT an Electrolux, she was a Sears Roebuck but, this is the general idea. I affixed some "Home Made Rockets" to her exterior frame and lit them off. She flew pretty good, for awhile. As previously stated: "We were Young, Bored and Had A Few Beers In Us" when we launched her into the desert. Early 1970's.
R.I.P., Rocket Suzie. It was a Good Death. In The Name Of Science and Fun.
I'd like to Rocket Launch this Computer (The broken one, not this older backup machine I'm currently typing on) right about now but, I think I will let the Manufacturer do that deed.
Peace, Love and Amatuer Vacuum Cleaner Rocketry,
-Doc
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
LITTLE MACHINES OF MY GENERAL DISPLEASURE
..All watched over by Loving Grace, of course, I borrow from The Master.
I am not a big fan of machines that don't work. When I instruct my computer to: "Take a flying fuck off of the Golden Gate Bridge," I expect it to: "snap to ATTENTION," salute me while saying: "Yes SIR!" and ask how quickly said task should be executed. Then I patiently await the "splash" or, hopefully, "THUD," as it lands on the deck of some Japanese Tramp Freighter. Injuring The Fur Trapper... You get the idea.
I have even less patience for automated phone call systems and "follow-up calls" from syrup-y accented Corporate drones that can't pronounce either my name or the pronunciation of the town I live in. I recently explained to my Dear Mother that I: "Used to talk on the telephone for 5 hours per night, 5 nights per week." I was a Professional Fundraiser for Conservation and Social/Political Action Organizations. The whole Alphabet Soup, thereof. DO NOT ARGUE WITH ME ON THE PHONE. Especially if you're "wrong." I am the personified BANE of any and ALL Telemarketers. Same goes for "Technical Support Personnel" in places like Mumbai and Delhi, Managua or Manilla. They ALL have names like: "Johnny" or "Suzie." I had a Pet Vacuum Cleaner named Suzie, once. Poor Gal, she's in some state of deconstruction/destruction between Anza Borrego and Arizona now. We made a "missile" out of her one weekend. Fuck it. We were bored and had imbibed a few. You get the idea...
I hope that the Lenovo Technician coming to visit me, AGAIN, today likes Frank Zappa. I intend to be playing Frank the entire time he's here. The ReAlLy WeIrD sHiT. Actually, he's pretty nice and has to drive 170 miles just to get to my Bachelor Pad From Hell to fix my machine so, I'll probably be taking "requests."
Nuthin' But Love, Baby,
-Doc
I am not a big fan of machines that don't work. When I instruct my computer to: "Take a flying fuck off of the Golden Gate Bridge," I expect it to: "snap to ATTENTION," salute me while saying: "Yes SIR!" and ask how quickly said task should be executed. Then I patiently await the "splash" or, hopefully, "THUD," as it lands on the deck of some Japanese Tramp Freighter. Injuring The Fur Trapper... You get the idea.
I have even less patience for automated phone call systems and "follow-up calls" from syrup-y accented Corporate drones that can't pronounce either my name or the pronunciation of the town I live in. I recently explained to my Dear Mother that I: "Used to talk on the telephone for 5 hours per night, 5 nights per week." I was a Professional Fundraiser for Conservation and Social/Political Action Organizations. The whole Alphabet Soup, thereof. DO NOT ARGUE WITH ME ON THE PHONE. Especially if you're "wrong." I am the personified BANE of any and ALL Telemarketers. Same goes for "Technical Support Personnel" in places like Mumbai and Delhi, Managua or Manilla. They ALL have names like: "Johnny" or "Suzie." I had a Pet Vacuum Cleaner named Suzie, once. Poor Gal, she's in some state of deconstruction/destruction between Anza Borrego and Arizona now. We made a "missile" out of her one weekend. Fuck it. We were bored and had imbibed a few. You get the idea...
I hope that the Lenovo Technician coming to visit me, AGAIN, today likes Frank Zappa. I intend to be playing Frank the entire time he's here. The ReAlLy WeIrD sHiT. Actually, he's pretty nice and has to drive 170 miles just to get to my Bachelor Pad From Hell to fix my machine so, I'll probably be taking "requests."
Nuthin' But Love, Baby,
-Doc
Monday, June 13, 2016
BAD NEIGHBOR REVENGE
I have a couple of REALLY AWFUL neighbors. I will, at some, undisclosed, anonymous, in Devilishly spiteful fashion, exact some form of heinous revenge upon them. I have considered a few of my "favorites" recently. I list them now, as pure entertainment and fanciful Tom Foolery. A nod is as good as a wink, to a Blind Horse.
1. Obtain a 10 gallon bucket of rancid fish offal. Guts, lips, foreskins, anuses, all the stinky parts. Let the bucket sit in a nice warm, preferably sunny, place until God Him/Her/It Self wouldn't go anywhere near that smell. Upon full maturation, pour said mixture into the grate at the rear of their car's hood, behind the actual hood and windshield wipers. In the middle of the night, of course. The smell NEVER goes away. I know. I was a Commercial Fisherman.
2. Place House Members on NUMEROUS Communist/Hate Group/KKK/Anti-Government Militia/Flag Burning/ Devil Worshipping, etc., mailing lists. Sit back and wait for the FBI to show up.
3. Frozen paint balls, lots of compressed air in the tank, to the ass. Use your imagination. Note: They REALLY HURT!
4. Pour a "skunk stripe" of Acetone down the dead center of their new car. It will NEVER fully go away. 4(b). Tar and Feather whole New Car. 4(c) Superglue dildoes to entire exterior of New Car.
5. A full gallon of liquid bleach or drain cleaner into a full load of their laundry. Or, a dead skunk...
6. Pay a couple of Out-Of-Town Mean Teenage Girls to beat them both into bloody pulps and roll said new car off a cliff. (This one is clearly a Last Resort kind of move)
7. Nail dead animals to their front door. Or, place animals of hood of New Car, repeatedly. Road Kill, of course.
8. Blow Dart them with a tranquilizer, administer a POWERFUL HALLUCINOGEN, throw them both into a small closet with a whole bunch of REALLY PISSED OFF HORNETS in there and wait for the Psych Unit to come get them.
9. Play Nazi Speed Metal for ten seconds at a time, REALLY LOUD numerous times during the night, from a car parked in their driveway and then simply drive away. Or just get a scrapped car, install a really shitty LOUD stereo and leave the car, locked, next to their house. In the middle of the night.
10. Put "I HATE COPS" bumper stickers on their New Car. Also in the Dead Of Night. (Kids will do this one, for free, or for a candy bar.)
Now, I know what you're thinking here: "Man, this is some pretty Chicken Shit Stuff." My answer is: "Yes. It is. These are a couple of: REALLY CHICKEN SHIT PEOPLE." They deserve much worse. Most of which would send the Average Joe to Prison for quite awhile. I'm not that guy but, I am vindictive and petty, mean when provoked and rotten when rotten is deserved. I can think of ALLOT of worse things to do to these people. Trust me. I have a very active imagination.
Peace, Love and Napalm,
-Doc
1. Obtain a 10 gallon bucket of rancid fish offal. Guts, lips, foreskins, anuses, all the stinky parts. Let the bucket sit in a nice warm, preferably sunny, place until God Him/Her/It Self wouldn't go anywhere near that smell. Upon full maturation, pour said mixture into the grate at the rear of their car's hood, behind the actual hood and windshield wipers. In the middle of the night, of course. The smell NEVER goes away. I know. I was a Commercial Fisherman.
2. Place House Members on NUMEROUS Communist/Hate Group/KKK/Anti-Government Militia/Flag Burning/ Devil Worshipping, etc., mailing lists. Sit back and wait for the FBI to show up.
3. Frozen paint balls, lots of compressed air in the tank, to the ass. Use your imagination. Note: They REALLY HURT!
4. Pour a "skunk stripe" of Acetone down the dead center of their new car. It will NEVER fully go away. 4(b). Tar and Feather whole New Car. 4(c) Superglue dildoes to entire exterior of New Car.
5. A full gallon of liquid bleach or drain cleaner into a full load of their laundry. Or, a dead skunk...
6. Pay a couple of Out-Of-Town Mean Teenage Girls to beat them both into bloody pulps and roll said new car off a cliff. (This one is clearly a Last Resort kind of move)
7. Nail dead animals to their front door. Or, place animals of hood of New Car, repeatedly. Road Kill, of course.
8. Blow Dart them with a tranquilizer, administer a POWERFUL HALLUCINOGEN, throw them both into a small closet with a whole bunch of REALLY PISSED OFF HORNETS in there and wait for the Psych Unit to come get them.
9. Play Nazi Speed Metal for ten seconds at a time, REALLY LOUD numerous times during the night, from a car parked in their driveway and then simply drive away. Or just get a scrapped car, install a really shitty LOUD stereo and leave the car, locked, next to their house. In the middle of the night.
10. Put "I HATE COPS" bumper stickers on their New Car. Also in the Dead Of Night. (Kids will do this one, for free, or for a candy bar.)
Now, I know what you're thinking here: "Man, this is some pretty Chicken Shit Stuff." My answer is: "Yes. It is. These are a couple of: REALLY CHICKEN SHIT PEOPLE." They deserve much worse. Most of which would send the Average Joe to Prison for quite awhile. I'm not that guy but, I am vindictive and petty, mean when provoked and rotten when rotten is deserved. I can think of ALLOT of worse things to do to these people. Trust me. I have a very active imagination.
Peace, Love and Napalm,
-Doc
Monday, June 6, 2016
D-DAY
My Uncle, "H.G. Shook, Colonel, USAAC/USAF, (ret.)" was a P-47 Pilot, a Base Commander, my Mom's Older Bother and My Uncle. He still is all of those things.
Hal was one of the first wave of Fighter Pilots, from his Squadron in Winkton, U.K., flying from England into Normandy. He is also a "Tough Old Bird," a wonderful Uncle, Son, Big Brother and Human Being. He will not only show you proper respect, if deserved, but will be a Perfect Gentleman should you choose to return that respect. It would be advisable. He earned every bit you can muster. Be generous. Your courtesy will be returned.
I honor all those fine Military Personnel that served on this terrible day. You have earned every bit of the respect I can muster. You have earned it, in triplicate.
Thank you. Only tears will express my gratitude to a greater extent.
-Doc
Hal was one of the first wave of Fighter Pilots, from his Squadron in Winkton, U.K., flying from England into Normandy. He is also a "Tough Old Bird," a wonderful Uncle, Son, Big Brother and Human Being. He will not only show you proper respect, if deserved, but will be a Perfect Gentleman should you choose to return that respect. It would be advisable. He earned every bit you can muster. Be generous. Your courtesy will be returned.
I honor all those fine Military Personnel that served on this terrible day. You have earned every bit of the respect I can muster. You have earned it, in triplicate.
Thank you. Only tears will express my gratitude to a greater extent.
-Doc
Sunday, June 5, 2016
JUST WHEN YOU "THINK..."
..That you don't like something, someplace, someone, etc., along comes Jones...
https://youtu.be/eFyr49TwuiI
I said that: "I don't like Zoos anymore." I lied. Actually, I like watching the Kids that go to Zoos with Mom and Dad. I grew up right up the Avenue from the San Francisco Zoo. How could I "not like Zoo's?" Frankie The Pig wasn't bad either. He needed a shave and a haircut though. Ugliest pig I ever saw in my life. Gnarly set of fangs. I wouldn't want to meet him behind a dumpster.
It was a good 10-12 mile walk. Every so often, I get a wild hair up my ass to go walk ten+ miles. Just to find out how much it hurts when I'm done. I feel "O.K." so far. I'll sleep like a stoned to death, banana leaf wrapped, scorched, Ulua Pig tonight though.
Kids and Zoos naturally "go together." Animals are curious, for the most part. Kids certainly are. I certainly was. All except for that one Chimpanzee that was fond of hucking crap at Tourists. As mentioned, we knew better than to stand in that front row. It was fun to watch the Noobs catch a load.
No such danger here though. All fairly tame animals. "Pet-able goats" and the like. No Lions or Polar Bears. Darn it. I actually enjoy animals that would just as soon eat me kick me to death, etc., as look at me, when going to Zoos. "Danger" is part of the show. Kind of like a Led Zeppelin Show in the early 70's. Ot "Leo" the lion turning Blue Haired Ladies' Hair White during his rush to the haunch at feeding time. (It was a fine spectacle.)
My Birthday is August 6th, which makes me a Leo, by the way.
Anyway. Tired. I'll sleep well tonight. Having not seen Lions or whatever.
Doc
https://youtu.be/eFyr49TwuiI
I said that: "I don't like Zoos anymore." I lied. Actually, I like watching the Kids that go to Zoos with Mom and Dad. I grew up right up the Avenue from the San Francisco Zoo. How could I "not like Zoo's?" Frankie The Pig wasn't bad either. He needed a shave and a haircut though. Ugliest pig I ever saw in my life. Gnarly set of fangs. I wouldn't want to meet him behind a dumpster.
It was a good 10-12 mile walk. Every so often, I get a wild hair up my ass to go walk ten+ miles. Just to find out how much it hurts when I'm done. I feel "O.K." so far. I'll sleep like a stoned to death, banana leaf wrapped, scorched, Ulua Pig tonight though.
Kids and Zoos naturally "go together." Animals are curious, for the most part. Kids certainly are. I certainly was. All except for that one Chimpanzee that was fond of hucking crap at Tourists. As mentioned, we knew better than to stand in that front row. It was fun to watch the Noobs catch a load.
No such danger here though. All fairly tame animals. "Pet-able goats" and the like. No Lions or Polar Bears. Darn it. I actually enjoy animals that would just as soon eat me kick me to death, etc., as look at me, when going to Zoos. "Danger" is part of the show. Kind of like a Led Zeppelin Show in the early 70's. Ot "Leo" the lion turning Blue Haired Ladies' Hair White during his rush to the haunch at feeding time. (It was a fine spectacle.)
My Birthday is August 6th, which makes me a Leo, by the way.
Anyway. Tired. I'll sleep well tonight. Having not seen Lions or whatever.
Doc
WHEN LARGE CORPORATIONS MESS WITH ME
I tend to become "upset" when Companies assume that they can "wear me out" and/or ignore my complaints regarding products sold to me that don't work.
About 4 months ago, I purchased a computer from Lenovo. Last month, it died. They sent me a technician what replace the Hard Drive and gave me an OS "rescue thumb drive." It didn't work and I still have a 250.00+ "Paper Weight." Most of my communications with the Company, have been greeted with "double talk and inaction." NOT the way it's "supposed to be." "The Customer is ALWAYS RIGHT," etc.. I would also be writing to Bill gates regarding the purchase. I know people that have worked for Microsoft. programmers, R&D Guys, etc..
There is a part of me that wants to literally, burn this machine into the dirt and mail it back to them. I'd be "out" $250.00 but, would also derive an immense amount of satisfaction from said destructive action. I would then go purchase another machine, from a different Company, after penning a VERY nasty letter to this business. Suggestions of the performance of auto-fellatio and consummation of dog excrement inclusive. I'm a NICE GUY and all that crap but, NOT when I'm treated like "I DON'T MATTER." I DO matter. EVERYBODY matters. You have my money? I want "what I paid for."
My favorite part of this procedure has been when some Technician in India gave me a WATTS # for Dell Computer. I suppose he thought that was humorous. I, did not.
Long story short, "I will NEVER buy another computer that was manufactured in China." Dear China: "Fuck you and the duck you rode in upon." Dear Lenovo: "Hang it in your ass." You have no idea what a Jerk I can be. "Grab your ankles and hold onto the edge of the desk, this is going to hurt."
-Doc
About 4 months ago, I purchased a computer from Lenovo. Last month, it died. They sent me a technician what replace the Hard Drive and gave me an OS "rescue thumb drive." It didn't work and I still have a 250.00+ "Paper Weight." Most of my communications with the Company, have been greeted with "double talk and inaction." NOT the way it's "supposed to be." "The Customer is ALWAYS RIGHT," etc.. I would also be writing to Bill gates regarding the purchase. I know people that have worked for Microsoft. programmers, R&D Guys, etc..
There is a part of me that wants to literally, burn this machine into the dirt and mail it back to them. I'd be "out" $250.00 but, would also derive an immense amount of satisfaction from said destructive action. I would then go purchase another machine, from a different Company, after penning a VERY nasty letter to this business. Suggestions of the performance of auto-fellatio and consummation of dog excrement inclusive. I'm a NICE GUY and all that crap but, NOT when I'm treated like "I DON'T MATTER." I DO matter. EVERYBODY matters. You have my money? I want "what I paid for."
My favorite part of this procedure has been when some Technician in India gave me a WATTS # for Dell Computer. I suppose he thought that was humorous. I, did not.
Long story short, "I will NEVER buy another computer that was manufactured in China." Dear China: "Fuck you and the duck you rode in upon." Dear Lenovo: "Hang it in your ass." You have no idea what a Jerk I can be. "Grab your ankles and hold onto the edge of the desk, this is going to hurt."
-Doc
Thursday, June 2, 2016
BOTTLE OF WINE, NO BIG DEAL...
Everybody's having Breakfast At Lucille's.
https://youtu.be/ULVMgZPLmfU
I like Jerry. In slept in his basement with Jim (Radish Head) Bone once. Jim was on his way to a Try-Out. I was on my way to a ship in Ballard, bound for Alaska.
-Doc
https://youtu.be/ULVMgZPLmfU
I like Jerry. In slept in his basement with Jim (Radish Head) Bone once. Jim was on his way to a Try-Out. I was on my way to a ship in Ballard, bound for Alaska.
-Doc
Wednesday, June 1, 2016
DATELINE 06.01.2016
Woke up VERY early, paid all the bills, bought a couple of gifts for the Birthday Boys in my life, Brothers Both, and put water on for coffee while watching some AHC, which used to be The Military Channel. I had originally planned to leave The Ranch late this morning but, on second thought, I think I will leave early. Go Downtown and have some coffee at one of my favorite haunts and watch the day warm up from that vantage point. Fool around a take few photograph's and then go to the Post Office to get a money order and pay my rent. It's not "cold" outside but, I'll probably opt for the "convertible" pants today. The kind with legs that zip off and become shorts. Part of my Pacific North Coastal "layering" System. Over the last 20 years or so, I've got the clothing thing wired.
As we nudge our way toward the anniversary of D-Day, my thoughts are on the actions of my Uncle, Col. Hal Shook, USAF (ret.). Hal was a P-47 Pilot, (then) a 23 year old Major in the Army Air Corps, which was the foundation for the United States Air Force. Hal went on to fly under that new branch of the military as well, in Korea and then later in Vietnam. In Korea, he flew F-86's and in Vietnam, he was training Fighter Pilots in Dogfighting and Mission Tactics. After Vietnam, he went on to Offutt Air Force Base, Omaha, Nebraska and then to The Pentagon. He finished his Career as a "Bird" Colonel and is now 96 years old. Last year and a couple years previous, he "jumped out of Perfectly Good Airplanes" for the only two times he's done that. He made the jumps with a Golden Knight, Mike Elliot. Thanks, Mike!
The Soundtrack is REALLY LOUD here. Be careful...
"Shookie" (as the members of his WW2 Flight Crew called him) made his second jump last year, both to honor his Son, who literally, "had a massive heart attack and died while packing the 'chutes for a joint Birthday Jump" for both himself and his Dad, Hal. Uncle Hal jumped with the same Golden Eagle on that jump as well. He makes a nice "Butt Landing" on the second jump.
You may say to yourself: "What a Nut." Just don't say that around any of us in his Family, of which I am a proud member. I remember going to Air Shows at Andrews A.F.B. near Washington, D.C., with Hal and the rest of my Family while my Stepfather was at The United States Naval Academy, in Annapolis, Maryland, as part of the Navy National Band. We lived in The D.C. Triangle and Uncle Hal lived in Falls Church, Virginia. I remember playing with other Kids in his basement. I knocked another Kid's tooth out while playing Blind Man's Bluff, pushing him into a concrete Sonotube down there. Totally an accident and I recall feeling really bad about it. I was about 6 or 7 years old. one of a couple of vague memories of our time around D.C..
"What a Nut" goes way back for Uncle Hal. He flew; "Anything with an engine and wings" throughout his career. From Fighters to Bombers and everything in-between. He once "Point Rolled" a B-17 with a General in the back. When the General looked out of the fuselage, he "noticed" that the airplane was "upside down." His can of Coke was stationary on the tray in front of him but, he was VERY angry. Nobody had ever "rolled" a B-17 back then. Hal knew it could be done so, he did it. Note: A "point roll" is one that circles "around a fixed point on the horizon" as opposed to a "barrel roll" which circles "on a fixed point on the horizon." It is a repositioning maneuver. BIG difference. In a point roll, nothing inside of the aircraft "moves." In a barrel roll, everything not lashed down/held tight is floating around and is more of an evasive and/or "celebratory" maneuver.
The maneuver almost got Hal Court Martialed. But, his Boss, another General, knew that it "just wasn't done" to C.M. a highly decorated Pilot. He "fessed up" and took responsibility for the flight, which probably helped as well. He flew four sorties, out of his base at Winkton, U.K., on D-Day as "top cover" for his Squadron in a Republic P-47D, one of the best Fighter/Bombers ever designed and flown by the U.S.A.A.C.. He favored that plane over others, such as the P-51D, which seems to have Grabbed All The Glory among WW2 Pilots and since. My personal favorite aircraft that Hal flew was the P-38. It's a beautiful airplane. A: Night Operations Fighter/Bomber. Fast, maneuverable and packed a good punch. "The Fork-Tailed Devil" it was Nicknamed.
P-47D "Bubble Top", P-51D "Bubble Top" and P-38:
On D-Day and days afterward, Hal blew up a couple of trains and tanks, disrupted some Infantry and generally made a mess out of the Nazi's behnd the lines with his P-47, "Rae," named for his Wife, my Aunt. He also flew during The Battle Of The Bulge battles in Belgium, Holland and Germany, in addition to France. A couple years ago, the French Government awarded him the Croix de Guerre/Legion Of Honor Medal with two Palm Leaves. It's about the same thing as the Congressional Medal Of Honor, in France. Hal has numerous Friends in France and used to regularly make the journey to Normandy to pay his respects and visit with those that he'd net during WW2. Only being shot down once, he was indebted to a French farmer for saving his life after being bayoneted through both lungs and having his teeth kicked in. The Krauts left him for dead. It didn't pan out that way. He's still a Tough Old Bird at 96 years old.
A Farmer hid him in a barn, got his lungs patched up, re-inflated them and fed him soup until Patton's Armored came rolling up the road. He'd received his injuries after deciding to take out a Nazi M.G.-47 Machine Gun Nest, so the approaching Infantry behind Patton's Tanks wouldn't get shot up. He probably "felt O.K." about getting wounded. No doubt the Army sent him back Stateside for awhile to recuperate. I forget what exactly happened. He's written about it in one of his three published books. I own a copy of the Author's Draft for his book, "Fighter Pilot Jazz."
Then Major Hal G. Shook, U.S.A.A.C. in '44:
Hal at his Croix de Guerre/Legion Of Honor ceremony:
Between Memorial Day and the Anniversary of D-Day (My Buddy, Airman Stephen Brown, U.S.N. is one of the Birthday Brothers, June 6th. One of the "giftees" this morning. The other is my brother, Grant, who turns 60 on the 27th.. Grant served as a Platoon Sergeant in Berlin and Stuttgart, Germany, in the 70's. I tend to think allot about all those in My Family and All Service Families. We lost a Kid in Afghanistan. A U.S.A.F. JTAC. JTAC's, The Forward Recon Observers that "paint" targets for precision bombing and Drone hits. He, Senior Airman Bradley Smith, was out trying to rescue some guys that had been "cut off" from their unit when they were hit by an I.E.D. in their Humvee. Major bummer. He left a Wife and daughter. His Wife, my Kid Sister's Daughter was his Wife, whom had also served in the Air Force as a Cryptologist and Linguistics Specialist. Chloe, his Daughter, hadn't been born yet. There are allot of Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen and Women in my Family. I'm The Exception. I have "Served My Country" in other ways and am thankful for those who "Gave Some" and others that "Gave ALL."
Keep 'em flying, Pal!
With Deepest Appreciation for The All, in all of us,
-Doc
As we nudge our way toward the anniversary of D-Day, my thoughts are on the actions of my Uncle, Col. Hal Shook, USAF (ret.). Hal was a P-47 Pilot, (then) a 23 year old Major in the Army Air Corps, which was the foundation for the United States Air Force. Hal went on to fly under that new branch of the military as well, in Korea and then later in Vietnam. In Korea, he flew F-86's and in Vietnam, he was training Fighter Pilots in Dogfighting and Mission Tactics. After Vietnam, he went on to Offutt Air Force Base, Omaha, Nebraska and then to The Pentagon. He finished his Career as a "Bird" Colonel and is now 96 years old. Last year and a couple years previous, he "jumped out of Perfectly Good Airplanes" for the only two times he's done that. He made the jumps with a Golden Knight, Mike Elliot. Thanks, Mike!
The Soundtrack is REALLY LOUD here. Be careful...
"Shookie" (as the members of his WW2 Flight Crew called him) made his second jump last year, both to honor his Son, who literally, "had a massive heart attack and died while packing the 'chutes for a joint Birthday Jump" for both himself and his Dad, Hal. Uncle Hal jumped with the same Golden Eagle on that jump as well. He makes a nice "Butt Landing" on the second jump.
You may say to yourself: "What a Nut." Just don't say that around any of us in his Family, of which I am a proud member. I remember going to Air Shows at Andrews A.F.B. near Washington, D.C., with Hal and the rest of my Family while my Stepfather was at The United States Naval Academy, in Annapolis, Maryland, as part of the Navy National Band. We lived in The D.C. Triangle and Uncle Hal lived in Falls Church, Virginia. I remember playing with other Kids in his basement. I knocked another Kid's tooth out while playing Blind Man's Bluff, pushing him into a concrete Sonotube down there. Totally an accident and I recall feeling really bad about it. I was about 6 or 7 years old. one of a couple of vague memories of our time around D.C..
"What a Nut" goes way back for Uncle Hal. He flew; "Anything with an engine and wings" throughout his career. From Fighters to Bombers and everything in-between. He once "Point Rolled" a B-17 with a General in the back. When the General looked out of the fuselage, he "noticed" that the airplane was "upside down." His can of Coke was stationary on the tray in front of him but, he was VERY angry. Nobody had ever "rolled" a B-17 back then. Hal knew it could be done so, he did it. Note: A "point roll" is one that circles "around a fixed point on the horizon" as opposed to a "barrel roll" which circles "on a fixed point on the horizon." It is a repositioning maneuver. BIG difference. In a point roll, nothing inside of the aircraft "moves." In a barrel roll, everything not lashed down/held tight is floating around and is more of an evasive and/or "celebratory" maneuver.
The maneuver almost got Hal Court Martialed. But, his Boss, another General, knew that it "just wasn't done" to C.M. a highly decorated Pilot. He "fessed up" and took responsibility for the flight, which probably helped as well. He flew four sorties, out of his base at Winkton, U.K., on D-Day as "top cover" for his Squadron in a Republic P-47D, one of the best Fighter/Bombers ever designed and flown by the U.S.A.A.C.. He favored that plane over others, such as the P-51D, which seems to have Grabbed All The Glory among WW2 Pilots and since. My personal favorite aircraft that Hal flew was the P-38. It's a beautiful airplane. A: Night Operations Fighter/Bomber. Fast, maneuverable and packed a good punch. "The Fork-Tailed Devil" it was Nicknamed.
P-47D "Bubble Top", P-51D "Bubble Top" and P-38:
On D-Day and days afterward, Hal blew up a couple of trains and tanks, disrupted some Infantry and generally made a mess out of the Nazi's behnd the lines with his P-47, "Rae," named for his Wife, my Aunt. He also flew during The Battle Of The Bulge battles in Belgium, Holland and Germany, in addition to France. A couple years ago, the French Government awarded him the Croix de Guerre/Legion Of Honor Medal with two Palm Leaves. It's about the same thing as the Congressional Medal Of Honor, in France. Hal has numerous Friends in France and used to regularly make the journey to Normandy to pay his respects and visit with those that he'd net during WW2. Only being shot down once, he was indebted to a French farmer for saving his life after being bayoneted through both lungs and having his teeth kicked in. The Krauts left him for dead. It didn't pan out that way. He's still a Tough Old Bird at 96 years old.
A Farmer hid him in a barn, got his lungs patched up, re-inflated them and fed him soup until Patton's Armored came rolling up the road. He'd received his injuries after deciding to take out a Nazi M.G.-47 Machine Gun Nest, so the approaching Infantry behind Patton's Tanks wouldn't get shot up. He probably "felt O.K." about getting wounded. No doubt the Army sent him back Stateside for awhile to recuperate. I forget what exactly happened. He's written about it in one of his three published books. I own a copy of the Author's Draft for his book, "Fighter Pilot Jazz."
Then Major Hal G. Shook, U.S.A.A.C. in '44:
Hal at his Croix de Guerre/Legion Of Honor ceremony:
Between Memorial Day and the Anniversary of D-Day (My Buddy, Airman Stephen Brown, U.S.N. is one of the Birthday Brothers, June 6th. One of the "giftees" this morning. The other is my brother, Grant, who turns 60 on the 27th.. Grant served as a Platoon Sergeant in Berlin and Stuttgart, Germany, in the 70's. I tend to think allot about all those in My Family and All Service Families. We lost a Kid in Afghanistan. A U.S.A.F. JTAC. JTAC's, The Forward Recon Observers that "paint" targets for precision bombing and Drone hits. He, Senior Airman Bradley Smith, was out trying to rescue some guys that had been "cut off" from their unit when they were hit by an I.E.D. in their Humvee. Major bummer. He left a Wife and daughter. His Wife, my Kid Sister's Daughter was his Wife, whom had also served in the Air Force as a Cryptologist and Linguistics Specialist. Chloe, his Daughter, hadn't been born yet. There are allot of Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen and Women in my Family. I'm The Exception. I have "Served My Country" in other ways and am thankful for those who "Gave Some" and others that "Gave ALL."
Keep 'em flying, Pal!
With Deepest Appreciation for The All, in all of us,
-Doc
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