12/31/11

Born To Go

We're all born to go

Wow. Or fucking hell for those of you who swear. This is the the tenth annual New Years Eve edition of the newletter. Tenth. Wow again. Or fucking hell.

Feeling a little rough today so I'm not sure how long we'll go (which we're all born to do as Hawkwind so astutely noted). It's around noon as I type this, have to leave here about 3:30 to take Danny up to the airport, then swing by Dunbar to pick up my sweetiie to head out to Harmon's Creek for a NYE rum drink with Jack, then over to Joe and Laura's for our third annual big ass NYE dinner and drink up, this years' theme the Feast of the Mini-fishes which I have no doubt is going to be fantastic. And Joe, if you moved that camera into the kitchen I could watch Laura cook as I write.

Why do I feel rough?

Well, Joe was going to come over yesterday to help me with- as in do it all himself- a list of, let's see here, nine things involving computers and or technology (and one involving manual labor I was going to see if I could sucker him into), I bought a 12 pack of Yuengling for us to drink while he worked, sort of to prime the puimp before we went down to Cold Spot. I got bored waiting so I started drinking, Joe never showed and never showed, and Bill drank and drank, by the time Joe e-mailed he wasn't feeling well and wouldn't make it over it was just as well cos the Yuengling was all gone and I had started on the two 22 oz Buds that were in the refrigerator (I didn't put them there but I did drink them).

Ron called and we went down to Cold Spot where I drank two big draft PBR and treated Ron to a big Bridge Ale (don't get used to it) then we stopped by Rosa's to visit with her and her grandson Linc, a very cute and sweet natured child before heading over to Anne's where I drank two more Yuengling and a black and tan before deciding to call it a night.

So . . . to the mail bag.

Thank you for all the congratulatory messages following last issue, the romance continues apace. And no, I'm not offended by those of you who are taking bets upon how long it will last, I know so called smart money may be on this blowing up in Bill's face at any moment but I guarantee you that's not coming from anyone who's seen us together. This is the real deal boys and girls, and while I'll always be somewhat volatile- a leapard doesn't change his spots-

(OR A DEATH FALCON HIS MASK)

-uhm, okay, just cos he's in love, I'm nowhere near the raging asshole I used to be. Just Thursday I got really pissed off at something that was no one's fault and really no big deal but if it had happened twenty years ago I would have taken it out on Loretta and been a total prick. Thursday I just sort of went, "Well, fuck," and got over it.

(LIKE AN ADULT?)

And here I thought you and I were getting along. Why you want to call me bad names?

(SORRY)

And for those of you who asked "How will we know you if you're not constantly pissed off?", well, the angst level for Bill has dropped considerably but as long as I have to take my mother to Kroger's every old folks Tuesday and not just contend with her but with all those other geezers shambling around with their withered heads shoved up their puckered assholes (or their puckered heads shoved up their withered assholes)- get out of the fucking WAY, grandma- I will never be truly at peace.

Got a note from a reader who said she forwarded my comments about him last issue to The Food Guy who replied "tell your 'friend' that all of those words are perfectly acceptable". Funny. And WRONG, ya fucking numbnuts, they're not perfectly acceptable, at least not to anyone who writes beyond a third grade level.

So, what's Bill been doing?

Met Jason S. at Applebee's the Friday after my birthday (double nickels on the dime, and thanks to all the folks who sent me birthday greetings, that was pretty cool) he bought me three big draft Yuengling and we had a very nice visit, it was good to see my boy and catch up, for those of you who know him he's looking and doing well, as is his family (his kids are getting crazy big, dear GOD where does the time go?)

Then Saturday we met at Cold Spot for Bill's birthday get together, most of the MC plus Shane Storm and Mike Howerton of all people (he was in town to see his new girl, his mistake of a marriage of August '10 already having gone off the rails at speed many months ago). I truly have the best friends and girlfriend in the world.

(NOTHING LESS THAN WE DESERVE)

Well spoken.

Anne and I also went over to Mike and Sig's for dinner the next weekend, excellent as usual and topped by a raspberry bread pudding that was flat out one of the best desserts I've ever eaten in my life.

Been eating well all month, dropped $200 on two trips to Tidewater for my mom's (11th) and Anne's (13th- these are the dates, not their ages) free birthday dinners, I got crab cakes both times, Tidewater really does them up well, plus at my Mom's I splurged and got six raw oysters as an appetizer, a crazy twelve bucks but what the fuck, plus picked up Lori's and Eric's check (don't get used to it) as well as mine and Anne's.

For Annes' birthday dinner we met her sister Kathy and brother in-law Chris both of whom I like quite a bit, they have a farm up in Jackson county, we went up there for a Christmas party the Saturday before Christmas where I ingratiated myself to her mother by beating her (and everyone else) at our first game of full contact Bingo- I introduced the full contact aspect. She filled her card the same time as I did, big deal, if I call Bingo first I fucking win, dammit. Me, not you. ME. And no ties. She was kind of a sore loser made worse when I knocked my beer over on her waving my arms around making my point that I WON. Cos I did win, dammit, a thing of 24 Sharpies (they give out prizes when you wn FC Bingo). The food was good too.

Her Dad doesn't say a lot, mostly he kept telling Anne "You need to move back home,". Seriously.

We went back up there Christmas Eve for more good food, then came back to Anne's for the first Christmas morning I've looked forward to in many a year. She got me a lot of nice stuff (as I did her) including a camera that I can use to take pictures for the NL. And some not for the NL as well. Then up to Lori's for the first Christmas there that I haven't dreaded in, again, many a long year. Christmas is actually kind of nice when you don't hate the fucking world, and best of all my Mom stayed up there so Anne and I have played house at her place all week. It's been good.

"I feel like Mr. Coffee Nerves." Ronnie Gibson

It's pushng two o'clock, I want to get in a quick workout- sweat out some of this alcohol so I can put more in tonight- and a shower so I'm going to close with a brief- I don't know what, public service announcement maybe- from that savant, Ronnie Gibson that we'll call Ronnie and The Fat Girl. I take no responsibility for it's content, I'm just passing it along.

He comes in the office looking even more hangdog than usual a couple Mondays ago, I figure it's more trouble with his moronic kids (who are only what he made them I do realize). Then he goes-

Ronnie: You got a lot of experience with women, Rambo?
Bill: You could say.
R: Big women?
B: Not so much.
R: I mean REAL big women.
B: Even less.
R: Anything like this ever happen to you?

And he proceeds with the following story which at no time did he ever represent as being about anything remotely humorous. Let me add now that Ronnie's "girlfriend" of a few years recently dumped him because he never took her anywhere- "Hell, I took her to Ryan's once!" and wouldn't call her or even take her calls, and would only stop by her trailer when "I wanted me some and what's wrong with that? Women gotta have it too" yes, they do Ron, apparently just not from your suave ass. So he's been trying to "date" lately and hooked up the weekend before this conversation with "A big girl, Rambo. Big girl. Three hundred pounds at least."

They go to her place and find themselves in her bedroom where the first thing Ronnie does is tell her to turn out the light "so's I don't have to look at ya."

B: Jesus Christ, Ron.
R: What?
B: So what'd she do?
R: She turned out the light, what else?
B: Oh, I don't know, maybe knocked you the fuck out or something. Go ahead.
R: Well here's the problem, Rambo, when you got a big woman in the dark. I mean big woman . .
B: You've already said.
R: I couldn't find it.
B: It?
R: IT.
B: Oh.
R: I kept goin', "Is that it?" and she'd go, "No", "Is that it?", "No.", "That?", "No", "That?" "No!", finally I says, "That ain't it?", "NO!", "Well, it feels pretty good to me, I'm gonna keep a goin'", so I did.
B: You did.
R: Yep. Got my offin's.
B: And she?
R: Got mad and asked me to leave.
B: Go figure.
R: Big women's hot tempered.
B: I can honestly say that's never happened to me Ron.
R: I ain't so happy it happened to me.

Then out of nowhere he decides to impart more of his wisdom about women-

R: Now you take one that's had a miserectomy-
B: A miserectomy?
R: Yeah, where they take that stuff out. They're still okay.
B: They are?
R: Yeah, cos a woman that's had a miserectomy can still get her cream.
B: Good for her.
R: But one's that's had the change of life- uh uh.
B: No cream?
R: Nope. Once they've had the change it's like fucking a dead hole.
B: And who wants to fuck a dead hole?
R: 'Zackley.

He may have gone on longer but I absolutey could no longer keep a straight face and nothing winds Ronnie up like being laughed at, unless maybe it's beng tossed out by a fat girl cos he couldn't find her twat (but he got his offin's anyway so I guess it wasn't a total loss).

I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.

(WHY WOULD YA?)

Really.

Time to get off here- not get my offin's, just, you know, send this out and turn off the computer. Got things to do.

Happy New Year to each and everyone of you. Here's to ten more years.

Later

Bill