Mental Notes and Random Musings

Some More Reasons I am Jeremy Crow Afterall - Volume 13

2008-11-17T15:29:00.000-05:00

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Well I have entered a phase that is more appropriately known as the “off season” in my diet and exercise programs. In the body building world it usually means that period between all the major competitions where the bodybuilders go into seclusion and dump steroids into themselves in hopes to clean out their systems in time for the drug tests. In my case it simply means that time where I have to put the body away for the winter and alter my diet to add some more calories and fat so that I can strip it off in the spring. I didn’t do it right this go around because I didn’t realize that I was getting dreadfully overweight until about June and in turn spent most of my summer dieting. Most bodybuilders or health enthusiasts would have had that done by June and not starting in June, so I am hoping to stick with the program here through the off season.

Realistically I should know better. My associates’ degree is in diet and nutrition {foods and dudes} after all and I did run one of the largest bodybuilding co-ops in the country about {holds hand over mouth and mumbles} eighteen years ago. I had demonstrated that I could go from 210 lbs 34 inch waist to 170 lbs and a 30 inch waist in a couple of months, and I have done that a few times in my life, but again the malaise that can be my life translates itself into sloth from time to time. I may be a long way out of the game, but I still remember everything I learned, and maybe thanks to the age I am at now, I have been working on theories that I had heard back in school. A few of them I have been trying to disprove actually and have as usual been shown an idiot. I am here today to reveal a few of the silliest things I had ever heard {or thought were silly anyway} and had to prove correct for myself.

Back in the days of the lab, we used to formulate theories and then try to prove or disprove them on behalf of the company that had paid our grant and our tuition. It wasn’t the easiest work but for the most part it was rather fun. I had met a lot of the most famous WWE wrestlers before they had actually made it back in the early 90’s, and in turn they were able to demonstrate to me that my self-righteousness about steroids was completely correct! You haven’t lived until you have seen a woman with the face of a horse, the body of a man, and fully in the process of growing male genitals, let me tell you! It was this major setback with the vanity of bodybuilders that ended up destroying the company that put me through college, since they were promoting natural bodybuilding products and all of the people they paid to use them would get busted for steroids. In the end, most of the theories that we had proven come in handy when helping out friends to lose that extra few pounds or in some cases a lot of extra pounds, but really only help the pro types very little.

Most of the theories that I had worked on were base on data, and thus made me feel quite comfortable telling people to try them. In a lot of cases we would “pass on” other people’s data should anyone want it and a lot of the theories never held water in my mind or were simply an illusion created by something all together, but I would pass it on and give my opinion. When you were pressed for time on your own theories you can’t simply try to prove and disprove every theory that came down the old “try this” meter, so now seemed to be the perfect time to try the ones that always stood out to me, for whatever reason. Some of them of course had enough people to back them up that I would have to be a real self-righteous idiot {and I can be I suppose} to not believe them. For example Createin does add water weight to your muscles. I proved that over the last couple of months, but it does come at a cost if you don’t eat perfectly. Your body doesn’t really like it, and you have to deal with a good two weeks of the shits until your body gives up on trying to “expel” it. In all reality the results are not that visually noticeable and I would suggest using a NOS {Nitric Oxygen Stabilizer} like L-Arginine and Glutamine instead.

The second one that really got me has been artificial sun. I happen to have the most beautiful golden tan I have ever had in my life right now because for the last month I have been tanning twice a week. The theory was always that ultraviolet radiation will stimulate your skin cells to regenerate and then cause your musculature to expand at a greater rate. What a crock of horse shit huh? I used to pass on that information and then tell people that bronzed skin just gave the illusion of being bigger and to each their own. I actually gauged my progress in the last month and today was downright shocked at the real results. Keeping in mind that it could have been a myriad of other things I am trying right now I have to say that I can’t negate the fact that the UV probably has something to do with it. I’ll let you know when I stop doing the UV next week {since I am not going to get skin cancer to prove a theory after all} but I have a feeling it is correct. With a base weight of 175 and a body fat percentage of 11, I went to 185 and a body fat of 9. This will seem more impressive in a few seconds when I get on to the rest of the last month.

The third phase involved giving my body the foods I have been neglecting it. One of the most impressive {actually} steroid free bodybuilders I had ever known gave me this tid-bit many years back and I stored it, but kinda didn’t want to believe it. His problem was that he tended to get injured a lot during his training process since he didn’t have the recuperative effects of steroids that most of the people he was competing against did. To fight this off he would simply integrate a steady regimen of bad foods during his off season. I understood in principal what he was saying because the human body needs things that have to be eliminated during dieting, and not all fats and sugars are the same. His theory about not “micro managing” it was what surprised me. When you metabolism is in a burn economy, then what you put in your system doesn’t matter that much at all. Your body can take what it needs and burn out the rest rather efficiently, and more over, not getting an ulcer over worrying about every gram of food for a while does help your mental recuperation a hell of a lot too. In the last month {keeping in mind I gained 10 pounds of leaner muscle 185 by 9 from 175 by 11} I had integrated bacon and eggs with toast and hash browns 3 days a week, and pizza {Buffalo Chicken my fav} two days a week. On top of the strange way my body has been dealing with it, my joints and intestines have felt a HELL of a lot better. In theory, as it is the off season I should be able to strip off any excess should my metabolism become stagnant by spring.

Intermixed with the principals I already knew, this has been a rather fascinating start to what would typically be called the “off season” in general. I have changed my workouts around including the acceptance of a theory I had actually proven, “the older you get the better the gains with less effort as long as you rest more” which is the mantra I tell older people all the time. In theory when you get older your body actually responds to working out pretty well. The problem is that older people {and when I say older I mean past 30} think they need to keep up with the 20 year olds. You can’t and you shouldn’t, and more over why would you want to? A 20 year old HAS TO work out each muscle group every 3 days or they won’t get any gains. Someone like myself in their late 30’s only has to work out each body part every 4 or 5 days, and get similar results to one of them whipper snappers. It’s actually the kids at the gym that look at me and my 40 minute workouts and great results and get pissy, not the other way around. To offset the seasons I have started lifting lower weights and working my way up for gains, and then in the “on season” I will start high and exhaust low for definition. That is the other thing that could disprove the UV theory but as I said I will let you know after a month of no fake sun. If anyone needs any diet and exercise advice please feel free to ask in the comments. I am a trained professional technically, but keep in mind the reason I never could do it for a living, I’ll tell you what to do once. I’ll never nag you to do it. ;8o)

Other Crap This Weirdo Publishes... Mental Notes & Random Musings {Daily Blog} The Crow's Nest {The Homepage of Jeremy Crow} Jeremy Crow on Multiply {For Community Types} Blogaholics Anonymous {E-Mail Blogging Group} Itching For Coffee {Community Blog}

Nothing that was printed here was intended to offend anyone, and if it did, screw ya, you begged for it. If you believe that there are some measures that can be taken to change me, then please feel free to pray for me, and while you are at it yourself, because you read this far, and if you hated every minute of it, then you are an idiot, not me, or the other people who like what I have to say! .. Jeremy

A Murder of Crows - Volume 23

2008-11-16T17:10:00.001-05:00

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This is a repost of my writings from Itching For Coffee ... Where I often post writings with other talented writers ...

God can I get offended by the stupidest shit or what? I found myself infuriated by a comment from an outspoken young lad that decided to berate me because I had the audacity to say that I don’t drink Starbucks coffee. His assumption of why I don’t drink it had nothing to do with the meaning behind my statement and that was what infuriated me so much. The fact of the matter is that I don’t drink Starbucks because I think it sucks. It had nothing to do with any political ban, or some other bullshit reason that you read about in various spam e-mails, but he chastised me for being a loony that was banning Starbucks based on their anti war sentiments. Personally I never had a problem with Starbucks refusing to send free coffee to soldiers, because everyone has that right, and have even gone as far as to support their decision because their coffee sucks! It’s bad enough that we have sent soldiers to a war zone, but to force them to drink shitty coffee in the middle of a desert is just over the top in my book.

I am not one of those people that runs around telling people to ban things and it might be one of the few things that I have agreed in lock step with a certain radio personality that dominates the noon to three time slot on most AM radio dials. Calling for protests on things politicizes business and that is completely un-cool. I have also subscribed to the theory that there are a lot more people out there that hate me than love me, so the chances are pretty good that I would make billionaires out of companies I detest. Chew on that one for a while as you run out to buy your Starbucks coffee knowing full well that Jeremy hates it so it must be pretty damn good. For the record when I happen to be in Seattle {my favoritest city in the world} I prefer to drink Tully’s but will drink Starbucks because it is after all on every block out there, and Tully’s has only managed to place a store across from nine out of ten of them.

Now on to the breaking of my cardinal rule, I will tell you all a few things that I have banned and why, but for my own personal reasons. I do this mostly to point out to my more liberal readers that they are out of line when judging me as a hateful right wing whacko, because I do put my money where my mouth is, and it isn’t within their realm of stereotype. The very first product that I ever put a “lifetime” ban on was based completely on my own lying eyes, and that would be Nike. I haven’t owned a Nike product of any sort, since I was 13 years old. Admittedly from the age of 13 to about 20 it was because I couldn’t afford them being from humbler means than most, but it was when I worked for a company that made the inner plastics that go into shoes, that I decided Nike was bad news. I have had a multitude of friends that have either worked for Nike or Bauer as they are a local company that has come to the same decision, and it falls under my floating scale of reasonability. I was sent on a trip to Indonesia where most of the labor on Nike products is performed and it was shocking to me. The employees over there are paid poverty wages, and the government supports beating the workers to get them to perform better. Nike was the only shoe factory that made an effort to hide this from the people that were touring, but not good enough for my needs.

Most people would say that this happens all over the world and I am being a prude for taking it out on Nike. The fact is that I know that world economic slavery happens everywhere, but I can live with buying a fifteen dollar pair of sneakers that were made in a Chinese sweat shop. I’m an evil American after all, but at least I will admit that I am unlike the other countries of the world that point their fingers at me, and then do the exact same thing. The problem with the Nike model is that this happens and then they charge a hundred bucks for the shoes so that they can pay all of the stars to promote them. That is what is completely un-cool to me because they are NOT serving a need at an affordable price, they are lining the pockets of a lot of people who don’t exactly need their pockets lined anymore on the backs of the slaves of tyrannical nations. In my book there is a huge difference and this is why I don’t buy or even keep Nike products. I have gone as far as to smile and say “thank you” to anyone that gets me Nike products for gifts and then get them into a Salvation Army bin the first moment I can. I justify that it is doing some good at that point.

Then there was Procter & Gamble which made my life a little difficult for a while there. It was harder when I was younger to figure out what exactly was a P&G product and what wasn’t but I dutifully read labels for about ten years to keep those products out of my grocery cart. That got a lot easier when I had three kids and limited money because almost everything that ended up in my grocery cart was no name brand from that point on. P&G had pissed me off by its senseless use of animals in their testing of various products. If you use Oil of Olay for example you can take great pride in knowing that millions of animals have had their scalps ripped open and chemicals poured in so that your skin can be soft and smooth. I’m not a total loony here either, and some may call me a hypocrite because I eat animals, and I have no problem with medical testing on animals. Again in my closed little mind there is a difference between killing and torturing. There is also a big difference between beauty products, laundry detergent scents and medical research. I might have even given them a pass and forgotten about the whole thing if they had just applied the eye liner to the animals or perhaps washed them a little bunny sweater and tried it out, but the preferred methodology of their labs was always to rip flesh and inject. I never intended to use any of their products that way so why should the animals?

Then you have all those damn charities out there that need constant lamb basting from people like me as well. A lot of the more notable charities have overheads on them that make their actual charitable contributions well below ten percent of their incomes. In a lot of cases these “reputable” charities are nothing more than shell organizations for one radical group or another. As you will see I am NOT mentioning names on this one, because all I can suggest is to always spend a little time looking into a charity before you donate to one. This could be contributed to my right leaning ideals, but in a way it isn’t. I actually know for a fact that I had more legitimate charitable contributions on my tax return than Al Gore did the year he ran for President {since it was disclosed by law}, and only a small fraction of them were religious. Keeping in mind that the Salvation Army makes up the bulk of my religious contributions, I am just being honest, but they do good stuff in my book.

The bulk of my charitable donations go directly to the SPCA and the Special Olympics which have always been my two biggest causes. On that note I won’t “buy” a cat or a dog from a pet store. There are good pet breeders out there, but I don’t have the time, money or effort to figure out who they are or what pet stores they deal with, since there are millions of cats and dogs in this world that need homes and are pining away in an animal shelter. I also can be pretty outspoken about what pets I get when I go to the animal shelter as well, and I have been teaching my kids what I think is the “right way” and the “wrong way” and sometimes preach it to others. The last cat we got from the animal shelter was an eight year old scrawny tawny, who would have sat there a lot longer if we hadn’t grabbed her. The kids of course were enthralled with all of the cats begging for attention, and the kittens of course, but those cats get taken a lot quicker, and if not by us then the next one through the door. The emaciated cat in the corner that had come from neglect almost always inevitably gets passed over and it doesn’t have the energy to show off for the guests, so I always take the kids over to meet them. Our newest cat Duchess was a bit frightened at first, but I was able to get the kids to enjoy the “getting to know each other” process, and in turn she has become my son’s best friend. She is a chubby cat now who waits at the door every day when she knows he’s getting off the school bus, but more importantly, she isn’t the cat that was forgotten about in the malaise of human indifference. Not bad for a self righteous, meat eating, cigarette smoking, right wing whacko huh? ;8o)

Superdaddyman Takes on the Pink Mafia - Volume 16

2008-11-15T12:43:00.001-05:00

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It was a drizzly evening throughout the streets of Megalopolis, and the pressures of everyday life were slowly wearing on the people of this great city. Patrolling the streets was a bit of a chore as the Superdaddymobile made its way slowly through the people who always seem to make a great fuss over catastrophes like “drizzle” and slightly damp roads. Secretly our favorite super villain turned super hero was contemplating how chaotic it was going to be when the “drizzle” became snow in the coming months, but that is neither here nor there, since he has more important things on his mind these days. The cooler weather had managed to make the fair maidens of Megalopolis, begin the agonizing process of putting their legs away for the winter, and this always made the drive to the headquarters of the dreaded Pink Mafia that much more dismal for the Caped Pervader. Within another month even the braver of the fair maidens that would still display their legs in opaque stockings would be forced to lengthen their skirts, and then within another the misery of nothing but pants suits throughout the streets.

Many do not realize how hard it is to be a super hero in a northern city, and the Superdaddyman takes his duties of battling The Terrorist Organization Known as the Evils’s {TOKE} and The Dreaded Pink Mafia so seriously that he is even willing to give up the few perks that the job does have for the long cold winter. Even now the Pink Mafia have managed to add yet more malaise to the Superdaddyman by turning off the internet access at the Pink Mafia Headquarters {PMHQ} so that the Superdaddyman can’t import his own images of the fair maidens of warmer climates to make up for the loss of eye candy within reach. As always it is just another one of the evil subplots of Operation Get the Daddyman {OGD} and shouldn’t be all that unexpected, so the temper tantrums are usually kept to a minimum. Realistically it wasn’t even the Caped Pervaders fault that this new policy had been enforced, since it was the names of others within the PMHQ applied to the decree that turns the switch at 6pm every night and doesn’t get it flicked on again until 6am the next morning. The most agonizing part of it all was that the “abusers” of the company internet weren’t looking at important things {porn} on the internet but were drooling over unimportant frivolities like motorcycles and exhaust systems for their trucks. If there is one thing that the Superdaddyman has a harder time dealing with than the Tempspanican invasion, it is the training of the local Goobers, and this might have been the last straw.

Predicating all of this is the fact that the Pink Mafia is in the process of looking for a new night time Capo di Tutti Frutti {and NO the Superdaddyman had nothing to do with Paco Taco’s nervous breakdown, or at least that is how he is explaining it} which doesn’t look too good. The list of candidates might be a little hard to train on this end. Most of them don’t appear to have a sense of humor, and in most cases even worse they appear to be a bunch of tattletales. The Superdaddyman is still trying to deal with the new Underboss in his own little hell of PMHQ who happens to be the least respected Capo {and most of you know that is saying something} that the Superdaddyman had ever dealt with. Since Zippy the Wonder Slug had taken over the lead position in the Pink Mafia shipping department it had finally gotten to the point where the Pink Mafia Godfathers {PMG} have accepted that he and the Superdaddyman just “don’t talk” and that’s not going to change any time soon. The Superdaddyman in all of his magnanimousness had decided to list it out in very few words when the PMG had inquired of him the major issue that he had with Zippy. The response of “he’s a liar, and there is no reason at all to even say anything to him” was followed up throughout the department, and in the end it was concurred that the Superdaddyman as blunt as he always seems to be nailed it easily enough. Of course it was Zippy’s idea to cut off the internet on the shipping terminals.

Now of course the Superdaddyman is no dummy. As we all know he might even be the most brilliant mind in all the known world {ask him} so he definitely doesn’t expect perfect honesty from anyone in authority. In all reality the last thing you want in an authority figure is someone who is completely honest because it is counter productive. Even the most ineffectual middle management suck up is going to have some opinions that are contrary to Pink Mafia policy, and it is expected of them to lie about that. The problem with Zippy the Wonder Slug is that he lies about the stupidest things, and when pushed {and lord knows the Superdaddyman can push} he will plant his feet in the ground and downright argue with someone about something that is just stupid, no matter how obviously wrong he is. The incident that had finally caused the silence between him and the Superdaddyman was another one of those days when the Superdaddyman had to spend the entire night cleaning up a mess that one feather had made during the day. One feather being the one who makes all of the messes and everyone knows it. Zippy the Wonder Slug decided that rather than just say “Hey we screwed you. Tough crap and deal with it,” which is the priority of any ineffectual middle management suck up, decided to lead with “someone else did it.”

The explosion was almost instantaneous, because the Superdaddyman was not in the mood for it, but he did have to drive it in there, and that was a sign of utter stupidity that the Superdaddyman was not going to tolerate anymore. After the Superdaddyman pointed out the errors in his story he proceeded to explain to the Superdaddyman that one feather NEVER makes the messes, and then it became a nose to nose screaming match. After two strait weeks of the Superdaddyman taking pictures of the messes on his way through the door, and sending them to the PMHQ, Zippy the Wonder Slug was brought in for questioning, and a lecture about how vindictive and mean the Superdaddyman can be if pressed beyond the line of sanity. Zippy the Wonder Slug then demonstrated that he doesn’t learn very easily by crossing that line again within a few weeks, when the Superdaddyman came in to find all of the tables from the break room destroyed in the warehouse.

The Superdaddyman should have known better to actually try to work the proper chain of command, and ask Zippy the aWonder Slug why the tables hadn’t been put back in the break room as one feather red stripe had promised they would be on Saturday morning when he came in. Zippy the Wonder Slug looked the Superdaddyman strait in the face and said “I don’t know” and left the Superdaddyman to brood over it for two days until one feather red stripe came in on Wednesday. Upon confronting one feather red stripe about the issue that had left the tables in the warehouse to get hit by fork trucks he had said “My boss told me not to Saturday morning,” and he had a grave look on his face when he said it. This boss of course, being the person that looked Superdaddyman strait in the face and said “I don’t know,” has officially gotten on his last nerve.

It was time to kill two birds with the proverbial, “same rock” as the Superdaddyman has been sitting in the warehouse alone, with nothing to do but work on this Friday night. We couldn’t have that now could we? This was one of those times when the Superdaddyman had to think {not exactly long and hard but that will be the plan should his plot work} quickly and log out of his terminal in the echoing warehouse. A few simple guesses at Zippy the Wonder Slug’s password managed to get the Superdaddyman in under his login. The advantage of dealing with total morons obsessed with their own power is that they lack any real creativity when coming up with their passwords. Start with “God” and work your way down until you get it {dacheif69 ended up being the proper password} and then create chaos. In this instance the first thing that had to be done was eliminating the company firewall with a general reset {child’s play really after dealing with the diabolical Captain ADHD who eats Cisco systems for breakfast} and then work onward from there. Within about 20 minutes our favorite super hero was cruising the internet and browsing the sites that were restricted before the new ban even. Zippy the Wonder Slug will have some explaining to do, but the Superdaddyman will simply use the managerial skills that he has learned from his fearless leader. “I dunno?” ;8o)

And the Merry Go Round Broke Down - Volume 12

2008-11-09T00:06:00.002-05:00

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I had another one of those wonderful opportunities to meet a total psychopath online recently to add to my collection. I really do try to be completely desensitized to the various women that cross my path in online communities, as I have found that most of them aren't real, and the ones that are usually aren't interested or too far away. My basic belief that online life is no more than a cartoon where we all get to be characters offends people sometimes but it is a lot safer in the long run than simply giving in to the emotion that everyone out there is a rational, feeling human being like you. Every once in a while though you run into one that either gets past your rational defenses or in a lot of cases tries to crash right through them with blinding force. In the latest instance {which was the first for me in years, I was starting to think I had lost my ability to attract kooks} the woman in question completely blindsided me, and my gentler side tried to let her down easy, when what I should have done was used a bit of cruelty.

It was on a site I like to play on called MyYearBook {or MYB for short} which is a lot like most social sites, but with a few twists, like Lunch Money. Lunch Money being the cyber currency that you use to give you certain status or what not, and there are many ways to get and use it. I found the site because I use the spin off of the site on facebook named Owned, which I have talked about in the past. In that game you buy and sell pictures, and make money doing so. On MYB you get money for just about everything, playing games, cruising the site, sending gold stars and high fives, etc etc. You also can spend the money buying pictures, and gifts for people throughout the site. Aside from the virtual currency, the site is a fun place to watch the biggest gang of con artists I have ever seen in one place, and that's saying something as I am a CherryTap {Fubar} survivor. At least 99 percent of the people you will meet on there are running some sort of a con, whether it be to get you to view their pages for popularity, get you to vote on battles that they are in {which they bet on to get more money} or simply trying to con you into adding them, since they get money for that too. It's hilarious once you get desensitized to it, and I usually change my status to reflect some sort of absurdity there {I have a stealth account so I already page viewed you, feel free to shower me with goodies like you promised} or anything that amuses me.

The reality of it is it is a good way to kill time, and I am pretty good at playing Owned so I tend to make a lot of Lunch Money. It is a perverse sense of power, and unlike most of the sites I joined years ago, I am amazingly useless and unpopular otherwise, which to me was a good thing. I play games while I wait for the kids to go to bed, I look for bargains in the picture galleries between articles, and I spent a lot more time in there waiting for that never ending presidential battle to get over with so I could be inspired to write again. My unpopularity, and lack of interest in the real day to day in the place should have been a boon to my free time, and allowed me a chance to cool off in relative anonymity right? Yeah I know.

My first real whacko in a while came out of nowhere. She had secret admired me {another way to get money} and I looked at her page where she was using the name Nymphadora Tonks. As a huge Harry Potter fan, I sent her a note telling her that I had all the audiobooks and would be happy to send them to her via Pando. Within a few days she had new pictures up in her profile that were really cheap and very sexy, so I bought them, and she responded with FORCE. Her pictures got bid through the roof, and then she started buying my pictures and the pictures of women that I owned. This made a couple of the women I owned angry, and at the same time she was sending me ultimatums in messages. Heaven forbid we even live in the same time zone. I tried to be kind in my responses and it infuriated her, and finally it got to the point where I had to tell her to chill out because she was acting like a kook. She deleted all of the pictures I owned and cost me most of my Lunch Money. Oh well. I deleted the pictures she owned and released them again and got most of my money back, but it was quite harrowing during the miserable 4 days that it lasted.

I decided that the only solution to deal with this in the future is to come out with some sort of Stalker Application, so that I may be less blindsided by a kook when they decide that I am either the apple of their affection or the dreaded rival in their conquests. If you feel the need to stalk me in the future please take a moment to fill out the simple application below and I will personally get back to you as soon as I can ;8o)

Application to Stalk Jeremy Crow

Thank you for your interest in stalking Jeremy Crow at this time. We would like to take this opportunity to assess your stalking abilities so that we may determine if you are a viable threat or a minor nuisance*. We here at Crow Pharmaceuticals Inc. take great pride in our equal opportunity stalking, and wish only to make it a more pleasant experience for you, and a far more agonizing aggravation for Jeremy Crow in return**. Please fill out the following information, and accompanying questionnaire as truthfully as your doctor feels you are capable of at this time.

Your Information

Your Full Name _______________________________________________________________________

Name You Were Yesterday ____________________________________________________________

Name You Plan to be Tomorrow ________________________________________________________

Your General Location _________________________________________________________________

Your Other Locations __________________________________________________________________

Person to whom you are stalking because of ____________________________________________

Name they use now that they are on to your other profiles _______________________________

Please Circle All That Apply

I am a .. [Woman who can fix you] [Man who can fix you] [The only woman who ever understood you]
[The man who understands you better than HER] [A man upset that the woman I stalk talked to you]
[A woman upset that the woman I stalk talked to you] [All of the above] [God said I don’t have to answer this one]

How many fake profiles do you plan to create and dedicate to the cause .. [1 to 2] [3 to 6] [7 to 20]
[As many as it takes to completely alienate you from everyone who doesn’t understand you the way I do]
[As many as it takes to get that bitch to understand that I am right for her and not you] [God said I don’t have to answer this one]

Do you plan to cross genders with your fake profiles? .. [Yes] [No] [What is a gender?] [God said I don’t have to answer this one]

Have you actually had sex with Jeremy Crow? .. [Yes] [No] [Not yet] [It’s what I tell everyone anyway]
[No but I bet that bitch who really loves me did] [God said I don’t have to answer this one]

Have you actually had sex? .. [Yes] [No] [It’s none of your damn business] [Did someone else have to actually be there with me?]
[What’s sex?] [God said I don’t have to answer this one]

If you were to actually run into Jeremy Crow in real life you would .. [Kidnap him and chain him up in my closet until he finally understands love]
[Kill his sorry ass so that he stops interfering with me and my true love] [Pee myself and find some place to get in the fetal position alone]
[God told me I don’t have to answer this one]

Can you actually get to Jeremy Crow in a reasonable amount of time? .. [Yes] [No] [If I’m horny]
[If he doesn’t stop talking to that bitch I want] [You’ll never know will you?] [God told me not to answer this one]

Now that you have completed the initial questionnaire, please send it in with a picture of your legs and/or the legs of the woman you pretend to be***. All qualified applicants will probably never be contacted so just start stalking at your own leisure, and the proper responses should be applied as time permits. Thank you for taking the time to stalk Jeremy Crow and have a nice day.

* Stalking abilities are assessed on a per stalker basis. Ability to spin a good story is preferable, but not completely necessary to apply.

** Actual hotness, will vary the amount of true agony imposed, and could lead to the stalking being in some circumstances pleasurable. We make no guarantees that Jeremy Crow will actually agonize over your stalking, or take you seriously in the least. We do not guarantee your pleasure in the event that you are not taken seriously.

*** Pictures of breasts may not be substituted for pictures of legs. They don’t fascinate Jeremy Crow in the least. Additional photos of your cleavage may be added for consideration if it follows the following criterion a) Your eyes are geared skyward in the “what every man truly wants” position b) all or part of your legs are showing, preferably in thigh highs.

The Twins of Kane - Leviticus 3.9

2008-11-08T19:22:00.001-05:00

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The Twins of Kane – Leviticus 3.9

I was in the process of lifting and slamming Jack’s head into the ground when Lou pulled me off of him. Jack, of course being my supposedly dead ex-husband, who quite possibly was the only thing that could make everything worse at this point just looked up at me with a smirk. I remember clawing at him as Lou was dragging me up, and a part of me was just hoping he would try to bolt, so maybe Lou could kill him again. He didn’t, but Lou spoke in a droll voice, “And here is the other anomaly in all of this.”

My emotions were already out of control as I yelled down at Jack, “I thought you were fucking dead?” and I could feel the shudder in Lou’s arm clutched to the back of my blouse. I really never got the reason why he detested foul language as much as he did, since he is the King of Hell and all, you would think that vile language was one of his creations?

Jack looked like he was about to say something, but Lou’s voice came out first from behind me, “He is dead,” after a pause where Jack smirked directly at Lou he went on, “He’s very dead actually because I saw him in hell personally, when the event that brought me here occurred,” and with that he let go of me. I was contemplating whether or not I was going to dive back on top of Jack and start striking him when Lou started speaking again. His voice was different in a way, sort of like the way he talked about my unusual ability to jump in and out of time, “His soul is what you see in front of you, and I don’t understand how he simply walked out of Hell.”

Jack started getting to his feet and mockingly brushed himself off. He shot Lou another disinterested glance and then said, “I got mad skills,” and then he looked at me. His look was appraising to say the least. There was a bit of an astonishment in it as he said, “I know things that you both don’t, and I came back to help,” he then put his hand up in a gesture to hold Lou back and then added, “and no, I’m not telling either of you what I know, so you are going to have to get over it.”

The look on Lou’s face was pure evil. There was in that look of extreme anger, the devil as we would all seem to know him despite the amazing beauty. His hands darted out and grabbed Jack by the front of his shirt, and he got nose to nose with him. “Don’t think I can’t send your pathetic soul back to Hell where it belongs.”

Jack’s face went into a huge broad grin, which was oddly far more scary than the look of sheer infuriation that had passed across Lou’s face. He said nothing and simply started to shimmer and mold his own appearance to mimic the very creature that was holding him. Lou was standing there holding the identical duplicate of himself and oddly started changing his expression to something that could be called panic, but far different than the normal panic of mortals. The amazing nerve of Jack as he reached out and patted Lou on the face, as he said, “Lesson one, oh darkest of Lords, is do NOT touch a soul outside the body in this reality, unless you want to give them the power to mimic you,” and the rage in Lou at that point had finally boiled over as he went to throw Jack.

The problem with his decision to throw Jack, was that Jack apparently had another trick up his sleeve, and that trick took Lou by surprise every bit as badly as any of this had. There was a muffled “THUD” as Lou hit the ground behind Jack, as he had flown right through him and hit the ground. The force to which Lou had intended to throw Jack must have been immense because the off balance force of him hitting the ground as if the wall in front of him had turned to water was that great. Jack who hadn’t budged a bit, turned on his heel to face Lou as he rolled over into a sitting position to stare at him. “You’re lack of Omnipotence is showing my good friend,” Jack mockingly said down to Lou.

In his own defense, Lou does appear to learn quick enough as he didn’t attempt to do anything else to Jack. He simply got to his feet and kept Jack within arms distance. Lou said in a calm voice, which you could tell at the time took a little effort, “So you can mimic the people that touch you, I don’t think personally that that is any big gift, I can mimic anyone on the planet without even having to be in the same time zone as them,” and there was a bit of that, “my penis is bigger than yours” in his voice, which gave me the giggles. They both stared at me and I stopped at once, but you have to admit the only advantage of being a spinster is the ability to laugh at everything a man does.

Jack then transformed again, slowly at first and then quickly into the shape of me. I can see what Lou’s problem is with this because I immediately started feeling violated like I had before, and the towering temper in myself. Lou obviously sensed this as he held out his arm in front of me to stop me from making any brave movements. Jack said in a perfect imitation of my own voice, I would assume, but like a tape recorded version of your own voice it sounded different to me, “Let’s get the ground rules in place before we continue,” and he licked his lips that mimicked my own, “I figured Stacy owed me a few whacks so I let her touch me, but neither of you can touch me if I don’t want you to. It’s hilarious to watch you try, but it is counterproductive and he grinned a hideous grin with my mouth, as if he was enjoying this way too much. “Secondly, I don’t just take a form like you do, I completely take the form of who I have the ability to mimic. It takes some getting used to, because things like the overwhelming need to put your dick in my mouth that Stacy has, still makes me a bit ill,” he said with that hideous grin he had before, and staring straight at Lou. We both needed to hold each other back at this point.

I swallowed hard in an attempt to talk as rationally as I possibly could at this point. It was difficult enough, since I hated this man for a good long time, but with that overwhelming jealousy that infests your system as you are staring at someone who violated your soul as Jack was doing it was all that much more difficult. “What are you doing here Jack?”I never wanted to kill him as badly as I did now, and the fact that someone had beaten me to it pissed me off a bit too.

He glanced back at me, but while he did it he slowly, then quickly changed back into his own form. His own mouth was back when he said to me, “I told you that I know things, and because of that I had to come back,” he licked his lips and then added, “I add an extra dimension to it all. You can flip time around, Lou here, well let’s just cut to the chase, is Satan and all, and I have the information, and a certain level of means at my disposal to help you deal with your friend here’s idiocy,” and that seemed to do it, because I couldn’t hold Lou back as he lunged toward Jack, then through Jack, and then on the ground again with a thump. “The definition of insanity after all is doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results,” Jack said down to Lou as he laid on his belly beating the ground.

“Ok genius, how about sharing the things you know with us?” Lou retorted before he had even turned over to look at Jack. There was something rather endearing in the silly way he behaved when he was out of his element.

Jack turned to me and with dead serious eyes said, “He is the devil Stacy. You both serve the same purpose at the moment, but loving him is the worst thing you can possibly do. Don’t EVER forget that!” and he turned back to Lou, leaving me to stare at him in indignation for reading my mind. I wanted to strike him again, but wanly knew it was pointless all the same. Looking at Lou now he said, “I can’t tell you the things I know because then it would make my purpose moot, and I would find myself back in Hell in a matter of instants.”

“Then what fucking good are you?” I blurted out and then instinctively looked down to see Lou wince. “I mean if you know things, but you can’t tell us, then what good are you to us, and why do you even have to bother us?”

He looked at me speculatively and then replied, “I know what I was, and I know what ended up of me. I also know where I am going when this is all said and done one way or another. I was a lousy husband, a lousy father, and a lousy everything else,” he paused for a moment and looked a bit sad for a change before he continued, “death changes a person, they aren’t lying when they say that your whole life passes before your eyes, and I stopped caring about myself.”

I couldn’t help but add in, “well that’s different,” and he nodded in agreement, which was a bit of a change from the Jack I had seen in life or death so far.

He cleared his throat which was funny in a way, as he probably doesn’t even have to breathe or get a sore throat, but it probably just comes out of natural habits. “I can’t let anything happen to my son, and regardless of what is happening in this world right now it is going to harm him, even if it is collateral damage, because his mother is an integral part of it all, but I think it is more than that,” he stopped and looked at me, “it isn’t one of the things I know, but it is a hunch.”

Lou had gotten up during this exchange and walked to my side so that he could look Jack in the face. He still had the emotional look of someone that is angry, but I thought at the time that it had more to do with anger at himself when he said, “Ok, I’ll play your game, but can you give us some sort of insight into what direction the things you know go?”

That wicked smile that simply terrified me every time I saw it came across Jacks face again, as he said, “Oh I would be happy to show you exactly where my knowledge goes, but again I think it will ruin your whole day, and that’s saying something isn’t it?” The menacing look on his face started shimmering and elongating, slowly and then much faster as his entire body started to swell. Jack was growing to a form of immensity that I had only seen once before in my life, and quite recently, but it hadn’t come to me until it was too late, as usual.

Standing before us was the hulking form of Darius, and my terror started rising, and forcing me to cower back. I watched with great realization in my heart of what a disadvantage Lou was at simply in plain size alone, as the two of them were both within arm’s reach of me. Darius being so big as a corporeal form that he literally cast a shadow over me which filled my entire body with icicles, and worse than that the surprise was not just mine. Lou had no time to react to Darius as he reached out and grabbed him by the throat lifting him a good two feet off the ground and Lou’s kicking legs and wheeling arms, despite being those of a deity were completely useless. The roaring voice yelled right into Lou’s terrified face, “Your object lesson Lucifer,” and then with hardly any effort he hurled Lou into a tree about forty feet away at least, snapping the tree as if it were a toothpick, and we both watched the tree fall on top of him.

I was far too terrified to move, and I didn’t know whether I was looking at my ex-husband in the form of Darius, or Darius reclaiming his natural form, but still my feet were rooted to the ground far better than that tree he had felled with what was a moment ago, my guardian’s limp body. It was the roaring voice that told me the answer, “Run! I can’t control this form and the pure evil of Darius is too much for me, RUN!” and I didn’t need to be told twice as his words managed to release me from the hold that my feet had on the ground.

My flight was frantic and I was so completely out of control that I really had no control over my own legs as I felt them start to stumble under me. Desperately I tried to regain the balance of my weak legs as they were giving out on me, but in the end I was incapable of control over my own body when I went crashing to the ground. My arms had barely softened the blow as I laid there with my face staring at the hard tile floor. Mary’s voice was the first one that I heard as she came over to grab my arm forcing me to shutter over and convulse in terror with my back against the breakfast bar cowering between stools of the diner that I had watched explode twice today, or was it yesterday and today? Her voice was soft and concerned, “Are you alright dear?” … To be continued

The Slammer - Chapter 5.8 - A New Bundle of Something

2008-11-07T14:07:00.001-05:00

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The Slammer – An Ever Growing Web Novel – Chapter 5.8

It looked so strange to see Lily with her head on Chris’s shoulder while he gently caressed her injured hand. She looked depleted, but very content, and every once in a while Jay would take his eyes off of the ceiling, loaded with baseball memorabilia and smile at them. John would do the same every once in a while, and there really was something comforting in the way Chris and Lily had been getting closer. It had been a very long and trying four months of baseball for all involved. Chris and John are still waiting for that call to head out and scout the playoff caliber teams, since it is starting to look like the red Sox could actually make the playoffs. Six games out at this point, doesn’t seem so far with the way they massacred the Jays.

Absently Jay would smile at the people who would come and grab autographs off of the stack of placemats he was signing. It had gotten so automatic that he didn’t even have to look down at them anymore. A sort of robotic nature had settled over him, and it had never even occurred to Jay that he could just not sign autographs one night. The fan base was getting so used to him that nobody even thought twice about the way he never acknowledged any of them as they wished him well, or on nights like this concerns about his phantom injury that ESPN had been talking about for the last hour. Fans are pretty fickle at times, but the Boston faithful tend to just be happy that they get easy access to him and an autograph just for going out to dinner that evening. Every once in a great while he would even sign a placemat with something special like “I was slammed by Jay Franklin” and it usually coincided with the nights that he wasn’t giving out many autographs. In his own way, he was becoming a player for the people, and it was getting respected.

A bit of a hush came over the restaurant when the next reel of ESPN gossip came over the televisions in every corner. The voice of Chris Berman, as annoying as it can be came over loud and clear, “The .. Almost .. Perfect Game,” said with great emphasis on the word “Almost” was how he led it off for the fifteenth time at least. He started again, “The fans in Boston are holding their breath as their ace pitcher Jay Franklin was taken out of the game, one inning away from the most dominant game since Cy Young,” a bit of a chuckle came from the restaurant patrons as they had all gotten the scoop more or less from the source, “We go live to Cynthia Popper, who is still at Fenway Park awaiting word of his injury.”

The crowd again started a bit of a titter but were more or less glued to the televisions as Cynthia started to speak, “Yeah Boomer, I am live outside of the Red Sox training rooms, where Jay Franklin has still yet to emerge,” and that did it, the entire crowd started bursting out with laughter. She continued, “I have been told that any minute now I will get a statement from one of the Red Sox staff, and will be live with the first word on the hope of the resurging Sox,” and just as she said that you could see the door opening behind her. She signaled to her crew and started surging over to the door where of all people, Jack Foster came wandering out and quickly closed the door behind him as if he were trying to hide something. This of course caused the poor reporter to get even more anxious to hear what he had to say, so she asked a quick question over the other reporters banter, “Excuse me sir, are you one of the team doctors?”

Now the crowd in at the bar started howling, and John started slapping his knee in fits. He started making shooshing noises to everyone in the place, and they obeyed his beckoning almost instantly. Red Sox fans had been so accustomed to Jack’s antics over the last two decades, that they were expecting the mother of all gags to be placed upon this poor woman. “Well, um .. Cindy?” he said with a shocked expression. She corrected him quickly on the pronunciation of her name as “Cynthia” but he shrugged her off and continued, “Well Cindy, I’m actually Lily’s Gynecologist,” and the place went mental again as Lily turned around to face the screen. “We all should be more concerned about Lily’s state at the moment, because I think it will affect the team far worse than Jay’s sprained pinky toe.”

The reporter placed a well scripted concerned look on her face, “You heard it here first Boomer, he has a badly sprained pinky toe,” and the split screen went up with Cynthia on one side and Chris Berman on the other with his face down on the desk in front of him. Cynthia obviously couldn’t see Boomer’s look of shocked incredulity as he obviously knew who she was talking to.

“Cynthia, can you make sure you ask the good doctor there what is wrong with Lily Franklin because I am sure that her issue would affect the team even worse than the dreadfully sprained pinky toe of her brother,” and then before it cut away from him the people in the bar started laughing as he nearly doubled over with the mute switch on.

She replaced that look of concern on her face and turned to Jack, “What is the diagnosis on Lily’s injury while I have you here doctor ..” and she let it trail so that hopefully he would fill in the blank.

“That’s Doctor Knockherup. Doctor Al Knockherup Carla,” she corrected him on her name again and he continued without paying much attention to her correction, “You see I had told Lily this morning that she was pregnant,” the crowd went mental again, and Lily slunk down in her seat, not really wanting to see what came out of his mouth next. He cleared his throat on the television and started adding to what he had said after the gasps from the usual reporters who knew it was Jack as well but playing along filtered out. “I told her she shouldn’t play with the baby and all, but she told me to mind my own business and start calling around to all of the away cities that they had played in and hope to find the father.”

“I’ll kill him,” Lily said from behind the wall of booth that she had between her and the roaring crowd at the restaurant. John was having a hard time controlling himself but patted her on the un-injured hand.

“I’ve been on the phone all day with hoards of Lily groupies in each city, and we were in the process of lining up a centrally located stadium or airport so that we can get all the paternity tests done in one day,” Jack was continuing along with the fascinated reporter hanging on his every word. Lily started shaking her head back and forth knowing that this was going to get a lot worse before it got any better. “We are happy to announce though, that the father has been found, but it is going to make the Boston faithful a little infuriated when they find out.”

The split screen was back up, and Chris Berman was soundlessly on one side of it encouraging the crew not to cut away from this with tears in his eyes. Cynthia with a completely nonplussed and slightly concerned look on her face asked the question that Boomer was praying that she would, “Oh my God, why is that?”

“Well it’s George Steinbrenner’s baby, and now he is talking about voiding her contract with the Red Sox because he didn’t give permission for his minor son to play professional baseball,” and as the crowd in the restaurant started with its fits of laughter, Lily sunk farther in her booth, the screen cut away from the ESPN reporter and back to the set where Boomer was desperately trying to get control of himself.

“I am going to kill him,” was all Lily could manage to get out of her mouth a few more times while Chris tried to comfort her. She was on the verge of a towering temper and even Jay was taking a bit of notice at it.

The waitress came over to the table with a huge ice cream sundae while John’s cell phone started ringing and placed it in front of Lily saying as strait faced as she possibly could, “An early shower gift on the house,” and she walked away losing herself in her laughter.

John listened intently on the phone, and threw in a “Yes,” and an “Of course,” and an “I’d be happy to,” over the noise of the crowd in the place that was talking loudly about how funny their hero was on the television. John was smiling as he listened on the phone and then said, “oh no, I’ll be sure to tell her. You have a wonderful evening.”

Lily straitened up in her seat a little and looked at John with an exasperated look of concern on her face, “That couldn’t have been very good,” she said to him.

John shook his head and then said to her, “George said his son can play this season, but he’ll probably go after him aggressively in free agency,”

“Who said it will be a boy?” Lily said back under her breath a bit, but loud enough for everyone at the table to hear … to be continued

A Murder of Crows - Volume 22

2008-11-06T14:17:00.001-05:00

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This is a repost of my writings from Itching For Coffee ... Where I often post writings with other talented writers ...

It’s finally over. I haven’t been able to write for months as the political season here had found its way into full flower and with it came all of the hard feelings that go along with presidential elections. I have found it is just easier to write my paid articles, get them in and don’t attempt to write anything else, because everything can turn into a long rant if left unattended for too long. This year was the worst after all, and I found myself angry a lot of the time over the shenanigans that politics had sunk to, but the reality of it all is pretty simple. I don’t hate politicians anymore, because I just hate the people that support them.

Here’s the way I look at it, and I am sure that I am wrong, but many people will correct my ignorance. I like Barack Obama. I actually like Barack Obama a hell of a lot more than I like John McCain, but the chances of me pulling the lever for the guy were slim and none when I listened to his supporters for the last year. More to the point, I have yet to find a more loathsome bunch of people than the truly vocal Barack Obama supporters and they turned my stomach to the point that I was rooting against the guy, like I imagine I was supposed to anyway. A lot of this came from the “destroy Palin” movement that had swept the nation the last four months or so, and the fear that no matter how much I like Obama it is after all going to be these types of people that he will bring to Washington with him. I can hope not, but I have been there before with Clinton, so I am not holding my breath.

Again as far as Obama is concerned, I truly do hope that he is the best president in American history, as I did with Bush, Clinton, Bush, and Reagan. I was too young to wish Carter any luck but come of age in enough time to realize what the worst president in American history could look like. In the end it doesn’t matter who occupies the seat at the White House, I am not going to root against the home team, and like it or not in January Barack Obama is going to be the home team. I actually think he could do a good job, but I also think he could do a bad job, it all depends on what he does, and why as it always does with presidents. Obama could potentially be a victim of his own success though because despite what people think, he is the first president since Reagan to have an overwhelming mandate. His party owns a staggering majority of the house, a decent sized majority of the senate, and a far more left leaning country to pilot at this time. In other words, “He better get some things done” because with that sort of a mandate the moderates are not going to accept the “blame it on Bush” mentality that infests us now, for long.

I have after all lived through a few bad presidents and always for different reasons. Carter was a nice enough guy, but hopelessly incompetent, GHW Bush was simpering, Clinton was an “in the moment” sort of guy, GW Bush was hopeless at picking the battles he wanted to fight {and more often than not made fools of his own supporters} and now the new guy hopefully will take a look at some of these guys and choose is battles wisely. I don’t know at this point, but I will say as a Republican, I don’t buy the absurdities that the rank and file of my party blather on about him. I also think he might shock a few of his own party by displaying a backbone. McCain on the other hand was a shock a day, and that is why I desperately didn’t want him to be president. Did I mention I am a Republican?

Here in New Hampshire the politics went to an all new low, and for that I blame John E Sununu. I voted for him after all, but I almost changed my mind at the last minute. You see here in New Hampshire the Democrats are the most vile human beings on earth. I am not making a blanket statement on Democrats in general, I am just pointing out that the Democrats here are enough to make any decent person sport a Bush sticker on their car just to hopefully push a few of them into neurotic suicide over it. For the last six years the New Hampshire DNC had sported a new plan of tearing up all of the Republicans signs in the middle of the night and replacing them with almost identical signs with insulting things about the candidates. This time around for instance you might have gone to bed with a “Sununu” sign out front of your house and woken up with a “BUSH Sununu” sign out front of your house looking almost identical in colors etc. They do it with the governor and presidential signs as well, and it is considered the norm around here. In other words people expect it from scumbag Democrats, and the Republicans are the bad people anyway because the news told me so. The night of the election the Sununu people went out and did it to all the Shaheen signs and it pissed me off. He should have known better because now not only did he lose, but the Democrats in this state will be able to say that “The Republicans always do that” making another Republican that made a lasting ass out of his supporters.

As I said, it is over finally, and now it is time to move on. I’ve had all of the Dems that know I am a republican telling me all of my faults for the last two days. They are still talking about how Palin lost McCain the ticket {which is a load of crap because everyone that hated her would have hated anyone, they are just making sure they destroy her as a future candidate} even though she may be the only reason McCain won any states at all, and the Obama Presidency {note I didn’t say regime, because it has ALWAYS been wrong to say that} begins in a couple of months, and I am not heading for any tall bridges. The country will survive as it would have had McCain won, and I’m pretty sure that everyone still hates each other. I will add though, Plato so wisely said that democracies only last 225 years on average due to poor fiscal policy because the people soon realize they can vote themselves all the benefits they wish. I am hoping that Obama rises above that philosophy soon, or we could be in a lot of trouble. The Democracy of one man and one vote only works when it isn’t two wolves and a lamb voting on what is for dinner after all. My prediction is that a lot of the people that were voted in for “change” are going to realize this before they go tearing down the house completely, and they may end up with a lot of their constituency furious with them within a year. His mandate dictates that ;8o)

Of All the Things I've Lost - Volume 1

2008-10-25T15:19:00.001-05:00

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I don’t pretend to be an expert on everything, but I do like to share my honest observations on the things that I think I have figured out. Today was full of observations and speculations on what I think I have learned, and reminders of what I thought I forgot. Who knows how close I have gotten to some answers but it all started with the rare trip to Maine to drop the kids off with their aunt. It could have gone many different ways depending on what way I chose to get them there and today I chose to get them there by driving through New Hampshire and then cutting over to Maine, instead of cutting over to Maine and driving through it. The answer to that is rather obvious as I hate Maine as if it were a living breathing entity unto itself, as many people know, so an extra half hour of driving didn’t seem like that bad of a deal.

Since it was one of those rare occasions where the kids were behaving themselves, and getting along I had the wonderful opportunity to let my mind wander the whole way, and it focused on just about every point of historical memory to me. I looked with feigned interest as we drove through Dover {Portsmouth for the sights, Dover for the smells} and was shocked to see that the city itself is well on its way to being far less of a shithole than a Portsmouth kid told everyone it was 20 or so years ago. Most of my historical points of memory have been wiped clean from the map, and that’s probably the greatest source of improvement possible. It wasn’t a wonderful stay along the highway of Jeremy’s life after all, and the places I would have been associated with, would have been associated with the lowest common denominator anyway. As a matter of fact two of the three places I lived in Dover don’t even exist anymore.

You’re barely even in the downtown area of Dover before you get to the apartment I was living in when my world officially crashed down on me. The scene of the last place I ever drank, where the usual party ending festivities of Jeremy being dragged away in hand cuffs. It stood out to most people because of the huge neon sign for the drug store out front that said “DRUGS” and the arrow seamed to point at my front door. The sign is no longer, and apparently the building that housed members of the three biggest bands {at the time} in that area {Future Villains, Stone Cold, and Chaotic Intentions} was equally as gone. The three bands and its members didn’t amount to a hill of shit, but the building apparently amounted to a medical complex with fancy gold lettering. We are going back nineteen years to be reminded of the fateful night that ushered me out of that building and later the next day, out of the city in general, so you would have to assume that something was bound to change one way or the other.

Getting through the city you come to the other end where the Somersworth border looms, and the site of the trailer park that I lived in and my two youngest children were born. It was the absolute pinnacle of how low my life had gone, but during the time I was fat dumb and happy with a pretty wife and three happy children, I did spend a couple of good years there. I also found out about my cheating ass wife there, and watched my children get swept out of that place and moved to the inner bowels of Maine, so that a two hour trip to visit them was an easy day. For some reason as I looked at the Hampton Inn and the Pub 99 that sits where it used to be, I managed to see the good of what used to be there, so I guess I may be growing in a twisted way. That park was an eye sore, and despite the inbreds that had to go and assimilate with the rest of society when it closed, I think the area is at the very least a hundred times better without it.

I made it through Somersworth relatively unscathed as I had no memories of life in Somersworth. Some would say that it shows that my life never really got that bad, but as I entered Rochester my memories wandered into the knowledge that it had gotten that bad. Rochester is still a dump, and it would take forty days and forty nights of heavy rain to clean that place up. Every convenience store still has the “we accept food stamps” signs out front of them as it is the most notable form of currency in Rochester, and sadly so, I was one of this city for a bit as well. As a matter of fact that apartment in Dover with the “drugs” sign was a huge step up when I moved out of Rochester and wound up there. My memories barely had any good in them aside from driving by an ex-girlfriend’s house {the one that ran away to New York to become a super hot Goth Model} but notably the apartment building I lived in there {studio apartment with two roommates should tell you the story there} which is still a hole in the ground demonstrating the fact that it wasn’t even worth rebuilding. Rochester holds no memories aside from my drunken logic and the gangs of bikers and CB radio rednecks I used to beer gag at until they kicked my ass thoroughly.

Crossing into Maine at the East Rochester border {every shit city has a section of it labeled with a direction so the rest of the city can point to it and say “that is the bad part”} I was in Lebanon. Lebanon Maine isn’t much better than Lebanon Middle East. It’s no more than a demilitarized zone between Rochester and Sanford {a real hole in the earth} which looks like every Stephen King novel’s back drop. Like just about every cross over from New Hampshire to Maine, there is a crappy looking restaurant with beat up cars filling the parking lot. I don’t even know the name of this one, as I never felt it necessary to stop in Lebanon for anything. The kids were still getting along so I allowed my mind to wander about and think of all my former in-laws family that lives within a urination of where I was driving. Of course none of them are worth a urination of visiting so I tried not to think about them too hard, but driving into Sanford on the other hand spilled out more interesting memories of days gone by, when I lived in Wells.

Sanford is a dump as I had stated before, and still to this day looks like the place where they test the bombs. This was the place though where I spent the first half year of what would form the last nineteen years of my life. The sober years were kicked off by ending up in an abandoned A-Frame in Wells that a friend let me have so I could get back on my feet. It was easiest to hitch-hike into Sanford for whatever I needed so I ended up there quite a bit. I used to look at everything around me and pray that I would overcome that cesspool and who would have thought that I would marry into the family that made up roughly half of the population of the city. It just goes to show that what we do when we are “young and dumb” is nothing compared to what we do when we are “old and dumb” and think we know things. Driving through Sanford is almost like driving through Rochester in the way that it takes up a ton of land, and all the roads meander, but shooting out the other end brought me to Alfred which was one town over from my final destination before turning around and going home.

Alfred and Lyman really are something out of a Rockwell painting. Those that romanticize Rockwell paintings probably haven’t noticed that I am talking in the literal sense of the word. The buildings are all poorly constructed, and falling in. They all could use some paint and even the businesses {for lack of a better word} look old and shitty. You don’t see people out and about around here because there is no place to be out and about to. My former sister in law lives in a slightly better hovel with her five kids {and one on the way} and {this will sound confusing} my ex wife’s ex boyfriend’s kid {told ya} but she is a good mother and does her best. The only memory here is when I pass the Alfred Prison where I attempted to get the Sherriff to go and get my kids away from my ex-wife {he wouldn’t} with the court order that he was supposed to. That of course is a longer story and simply a small fraction of the many reasons I hate Maine.

All the niceties were exchanged at this time. The kids told me that they would miss me {they won’t} and I told them that I would miss them {yeah right} and I made my way back towards my own domain with hopes of not having to go this way again until next year. On my way back to my large home in probably the most expensive community on the east coast, my house being a fifteen minute walk to the beach, I really should take a moment to realize that I have come a long way. I get pissy a lot because my ex-wife is a loser, incapable of taking care of her kids or supporting them in any way. I drone on and on about how I never get a life to myself {and even these rare occasions where my kids are away it ends up being spur of the moment and impossible to plan anything for my free time} and more often than not, I don’t have enough spare cash to do anything anyway. The reality of it though is that these little “trips” down memory lane remind me that I have had it worse and easily could again if I don’t keep my back strait and fly right. Some people live by the adage of “it’s a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there” and I prefer to look at these things as a “been there, done that, and you can keep it” ;8o)

The Twins of Kane - Leviticus 3.8

2008-10-04T18:42:00.000-05:00

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The Twins of Kane – Leviticus 3.8

Of course it didn’t matter as I was thinking about it. If this wasn’t Jake in my arms, then it was someone or something that had some sort of power that most likely would crush me like an insect. Perhaps the smartest course was to just let go and hope that whatever entity that was posing as my son this time was more friendly in nature, or I could do the stupid thing and see how far I could push whoever or whatever’s buttons. Of course I went with the stupid plan, because everything was starting to ring a note of “stupid” around me anyway. “So do you want to tell me who you are, and perhaps I will think about letting you go” I stated while clutching on to this incarnation of Jake even tighter.

The voice that came out of Jake was one that I didn’t recognize as it stated back at me, “Does it matter?” and then followed by a bit of a laugh the voice said, “You can’t hold me if I don’t want you to anyway.”

My brain wasn’t working very well obviously because I decided to get all “macho babe” on whomever I was clutching onto, “Then demonstrate.”

At that this Jake stood up and lifted me up with him as if I had no weight whatsoever. I didn’t let go though, and continued to grip him, playing it by ear as I went. His hands started towards my wrists in a measure that obviously was meant to release me, but I threw a wrinkle into it all by twisting my body hard to the left. He felt my weight that time, and stumbled sideways falling hard. The sound of his head hitting the bench was very loud, and it obviously would have killed a human being instantly. I was too concerned with my own safety and avoiding my own head hitting the bench to completely notice. He yelled out “Ouch damnit!” while I scrambled to straddle whoever this is in my son’s body. All he did was roll over to get off his side with me still straddling him. He looked up at me with Jake’s face still in place, and said, “That wasn’t very nice you know?”

“I’ve lost my ability to be nice these days,” I said staring down at him. “Identity theft is a crime, I saw a television commercial about it.”

“Well then I assume you are going to get that idiot with his social security number on the side of a truck to come and smack my pee pee, but in the mean time I would appreciate it if you would get off of me,” he said back to me in a non joking tone, just before he licked his lips.

“I don’t think I am going to do that until you get out of my son’s form,” I never took my gaze off of his face, “it’s just rude you know?”

A smile crossed my son’s face, as it was worn by whomever this was, and then I started watching his skin bend and mold differently. Within ten or fifteen seconds he had transformed into a mirror image of myself. I can imagine that the look on my actual face wasn’t amused in the least but the look on whoever this happens to be’s face was quite amused indeed. “How’s this?” he said mockingly at me and then added, “He has your facial shape so I saved a few seconds switching over to you.”

WHACK!

It was pure instincts, but it was also a wonderful punch. I wanted to actually take some time to admire my handiwork because I had never punched anyone like that before. Seriously, I was just going off of what I had seen the guys on NYPD Blue reruns do, and I felt that I was a very good student at this stage of the game. The face had even flown over to the side, and there was actually a dribble of blood coming out of the nose. Well, my nose to be honest with you as worn by whoever this is. This actually was a span of about two seconds before the voice boomed out, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

WHACK!

Yeah I was starting to get a little carnal here, but I wanted to see if I was as good with my left hand as I was with my right. Technically I wasn’t, and I broke a nail on that shot which pissed me off enough to send another right in with deadly accuracy, and another sound WHACK! My lip as portrayed by whoever this was under me was starting to bleed and embedded in my right ring fingers knuckle was a chipped tooth. “You’re rather week for an immortal aren’t you?”

The voice hissed, with a bit of a broken toothed lisp, go Stacy, “I could kill you by blinking my eyes!” and a look of absolute hatred crossed the face of, well, me on the ground beneath me.

WHACK!

Hey, go with what you know after all. I stuck with the right again, because I self consciously didn’t want to ruin another nail. I said, rather casually actually, “I don’t think so, or you would have at least done something to stop bleeding by now,” and of course I hit me again.

“I don’t think so either,” a voice from behind me said. I knew that voice, and it took one of the three people that I had personally met that could be between my knees right now, out of the mix. “I have to agree that, what you are doing is pretty stupid though, because if that were Darius under you, then you would have been dead after the first strike.”

WHACK!

I was on a roll after all, and starting to feel rather powerful. I said to Lou who was standing behind me, not taking my eyes off of whoever was under me, “I was having a hard time thinking under the circumstances,” and felt his hand clasp around my wrist before I could bring it down on this thing again. I then noticed that the other me was focused strait on Lou now and not on me. “Who the hell is this?” I asked him rather rudely but my manners had escaped me lately.

“I don’t have a clue,” he said rather frankly, with no change in the tone of his voice. “It’s not really a problem because I would assume that whoever it is will be perfectly happy to tell me before we swap places and I start doing the hitting, correct?”

My mirror image on the ground started nodding wide eyed over my shoulder at Lou, which made me believe that Lou probably hit a lot harder than I did, and this creature knew it. I had to add at this point, “You can start by changing into your real form.”

“I have a feeling that you won’t like it,” Lou said from behind me, “I know what he is, but I don’t know who he is, and there is always the chance that it could be extremely shocking to you.”

The voice under me changed to one that I actually recognized faintly, “It will be,” and he, she, whatever was staring me strait in the eyes as his form started changing. It was changing slowly and shockingly was starting to look like someone I did know, and definitely didn’t want to see. Now I know for a fact that it is a him, and his voice came out, “Hey Staci, how’s Jake doing?”

WHACK! … To be continued

Let's Talk About Sports Baby - Volume 14

2008-09-11T14:52:00.001-05:00

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So let’s get all psycho fan for a moment and start writing the obituary for the Patriots season. Tom Brady is gone for the rest of the season and with that goes the Patriots plan for avenging their Super Bowl debacle of last year, spygate and all of the other rotten things that Patriots fans have had to endure for the last year. I know that the double edged sword that comes with being a Patriots fan should have its ups and downs, like it does for the fans of any other sports team, but the downs have been pretty startling the last couple of years at least. I guess that the drama will play out with or without my permission so I want to take this opportunity to go all “kook fringe” with the rest of the football world for a change.

Starting with the facts, I just want to point out that I completely understand then animosity that most of the world has for the New England Patriots now a days, because I have been there. When I was sitting on a steel bench at Sullivan Stadium watching the 1 and 13 Patriots get walloped by “Insert Name of Team Here” I was every bit as pathetic as Patriots haters are now. I hated the Cowboys and their over inflated payroll, the San Francisco 49ers and their inexhaustible salaries as well. I hated the Miami Dolphins and their stupid Quarterback {Dan Marino} taking up space in the playoffs to get embarrassed by some up and coming team every year, and John Elway and the Denver Broncos, let’s just not go there. Then there was the Buffalo Bills and their innate way of dominating the AFC just to show the world how much better the NFC was. I was full of hate for any team that was better than mine, and I was justified. Hell I was a Red Sox fan too so what did you expect?

Now I have to deal with the “bandwagon fans” that storm the Patriots games and making the tickets too expensive for shlubs like me. I know this all too well as I sat in the snow and could count all of the people in the stands easily as there were none. I only went to the games because you couldn’t get them on the television half the time, due to blackout restrictions, and now I sit at home and watch the team as they are picked apart by all of the people that I used to be. Fair is fair, but during the “Salary Cap” era of professional football the New England Patriots have dominated, and it all started with an injury just like the one that happened to Tom Brady. With that said Matt Castle is NOT Tom Brady, so that argument is kinda moot, and on the same side of the coin, Tom Brady is NOT Drew Bledsoe, which probably had more to do with that than anything else. The important thing though here is that nobody is Bill Belichick, and that is the most important part of it all.

The second undefeated season will not happen, and that is a foregone conclusion in all of this, but there are a lot of people on the New England Patriots with pride that are not going to allow the team to fall into the toilet because of this. I think there is a justified stance that the same mental attitude that propelled the team to its first Super Bowl victory could apply here as well. The first thing that everyone said was that without Bledsoe the team was doomed. The people on the television were telling everyone that the team had quit because they hated Bill Belichick. Well they showed everyone then didn’t they? That was a different team too though, as most of them were “has beens” with no business playing football anymore. A cast of characters that Bill Belichick believed in enough to help get the team through a rather hard transition year after being horrendous the year before, and it gave the team a chip that nobody could knock off. Not even the greatest show on turf, who was at the time a 20 point favorite to blow the Patriots out in the Super Bowl.

Don’t think that this cast of “has beens” that have no business winning without Tom Brady don’t feel a bit of that 2001 Mojo that propelled that team to the impossible defeat of the St Louis Rams. The big difference here is that this team knows that the coach has been here before, and perhaps this is exactly what he needs to rebuild his tarnished legacy in an age where the news media turns anyone with success into a demon. We simply feed off the insecurities of the unthinking and then grow it like a flower that will never die, but at the same time we seem to like the underdog. The Patriots are now the underdog that was the prohibitive favorite just a week ago, and it all started with a simple knee injury. Perhaps the answer will be in Belichick’s next move, as too many people forget how amazingly loyal a lot of people are to the man and not because he wins, but because he wins with the people he likes. Can you almost feel the talk about who the Patriots could possibly bring in to right this sinking ship, and I want to put a different slant on that.

We have been inundated with all of the “has beens” that are playing second or third fiddle to someone elsewhere, but could you almost feel the slobbering anticipation if he were to go into his bag of tricks to grab one of the people that owe him one? Perhaps one of those over the hill quarterbacks that he always dragged around just so that they could get that one last paycheck, one last shot at glory. Remember that this is the man that let Vinnie Testaverde go out for one series of plays in a meaningless game just so he could break his own record for years with a touchdown pass. This was the man that let the world tear him apart for letting Doug Flutie bonk a drop kick through the uprights just to give a mistreated native get a little more immortality than a long bomb back in college. This is the man that finally told Drew Bledsoe that his act was old, and told a seventh round draft pick that he could win a Super Bowl. He is now telling a young man that never started a game in college, that he can take the place of that same man. On that vein Tom Brady sat 3 years on a bench behind quarterbacks that never did crap, and Cassel now is the leader of the only true dynasty of the salary cap era, while Leinert is a back up to the man that the Patriots punked in that first Super Bowl victory. What do I know? I’m just a fan, but over the last decade I have been a fan of a great football team, that has had some excellent drama ;8o)