Saturday, October 29, 2005



I didn’t like the life we had. I had a new family, new job, new town…and it wasn’t like it should’ve been. We worked opposing shifts and never got to see each other.

I was given the opportunity to move down here and work for the family business. All would change, I hoped. But also, I’d get to know my grandfather. He was one of those people that you could know for years, spend hours and days with and yet know that you’d seen practically nothing they’d had to offer. This excitement and wonder was the tangible reason I moved back; it was what I coveted. I hoped for a dream of a happy marriage and fruitful life, but dreams are often difficult to understand. But I was excited about getting to know my grandfather.

After a month of being here he was diagnosed with a very rare, very aggressive and nearly untreatable cancer. He died shortly after, on Mother’s Day, 1997.

I had hardly spoken to him as a man.

Dante has something that my grandfather had. Justin’s mom, too. Wardo’s baby too. They’re fighters, they want to live. Whatever happens, they fought.

In the case of my grandfather and I also believe Justin’s mother, they knew how important they were to others. They knew the value of their lives. But Wardo’s baby and Dante both, at their fragile state, have something so virile and solid about life: the fight, the desire.

A 20 year-old student leapt from the 4th floor of the Student Union at the University of Arizona on Sunday night. I was walking to class early Monday morning as I always do, but my path, through the Union, was closed.

This kid committed the most selfish of acts. One where the individual only sees how they feel. Everything is about them, nobody else; they encompass all. To this person, there is no one else, just them, their feelings. No one can understand, they’re alone…and they take themselves from the rest so they can be exactly one. No more. Alone. Forever.

So to this person I say, good job, well executed plan. You’ve deeply wounded your family and friends, but at least your life ended young while your reach was still short.

He threw it all away when so many fight for just a chance.

Friday, September 30, 2005



Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Been awhile...

I've been too busy to use the computer, and that's a shame because I have a new keyboard and am out of dial-up hell! DSL RULES! I couldn't get it before b/c it wasn't offered here.

Anyhow, copy and paste these links. They're what I've been up to the past few days.

That was a pure bitch to erect (insert Butthead saying, "He said erect."). Anyhow, it's made from 9 railroad ties...and I didn't get one splinter! What a trip. Anyhow, I'm having 12 tons of stones delivered today. That'll finish out the wall (and then some). I actually have a lot of other walls to do too.

To finish the gate, I'll make two doors of 2 x 12's and beat the hell out of htem to make them look rustic before painting them. I think it'll turn out well.


Then I went on a fishing trip with my brother-in-law. It was going to be a big ordeal. We had lofty goals of catching 60 pound flathead catfish.

First, my brother-in-law's new toyota four-runner BROKE! Well, the hatch wouldn't open. So we had to unload everything through the back doors instead of the hatch. Nothing was touching the hatch...but after it's all unloaded, it finally worked.

Then we go to rent a boat and there's a sign on the counter top says, "Have you seen Brian something or-other...last seen seeming towards the rocks." I assumed it meant the rocks opposite to the swimming beach.

There's good fishing there because of a deep channel. So our dilema was, should we not fish there b/c it would be really gross to find a body...I mean, every time your hook would get snagged, you'd wonder if it was a body....or should we fish there b/c it's already chummed?--insert Larry the Cable Guy's prayer, "Sorry God, and please help the pigmey's (sp) in Africa."

So I caught only one bait fish but also a bass. Then when we get to our spot for cat fish, I caught 3 consecutive channel cats, missed one and then on the fifth cast had one that started pulling our boat. My brother-in-law hadn't had a bite!

ANyhow, we're both excited as hell, thinking we got a big one, and it was. The drag was going out like crazy and the boat is doing circles. And then it was gone. I caught so much shit for letting that one get away. All night long.

Anyhow, we only ended up with 12 channel catfish, but all of them nice, a few were hogs. Then we caught the same twelve again. The lake was low and our basket got caught on a tree and pulled down about 6 feet. We fucked with that stupid thing for about 45 minutes before getting the basket back.

After 14 hours in the boat, we felt perfectly fine until we got on shore. Holy shit. Then I got attacked by fire ants and sliced my finger open cleaning the fish. DOH!

Anyhow, it was actually quite sad, reminded me of Jaws, seeing the entire beach roped off and rescue crews working to find him. They finally found him last night.


Been a while...


Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Guys running through my yard with M-16's...

This evening the dogs started going absolutely nuts. I went outside and heard people walking around, then 9 guys carrying what was obviously bundles of drugs walked about 50 yards from my front door.

Three minutes later the border patrol was chasing them around. NOT COOL.

I told the agents which way the illegals always run (they have a "hidden" hangout where someone in the neighborhood delivers them McDonalds). They couldn't find them, called in the helicopter and finally found 'em.

I was really surprised to see them in my yard...haven't had any for a long, long time...pretty much since we got big dogs. Anyhow, I started looking around and checking out the house next door...actually there's an empty acre lot between us. The house is vacant. I went up there and there were tons and tons of empty water bottles and the front door was wide open. Illegals had run to that house in the past and hidden in the yard before. Absurd.

It was kind of freaky though seeing guys running around my yard with M-16's and shit. Not cool at all. I over heard one of the agents say later that they had a kilo on them. Of what, I don't know.

Then I was talking to him and he said that on his street there are 5 border patrol agents and just last week they busted a half-way house there that had 40 illegals living there! Right under their noses.

Anyhow, I guess they only got half of the group, the other people split off and went another direction. Sheesh.

For a reward...

After I lose 70 pounds, I'm giving myself up to 500 bucks to buy whatever the hell I want.

For us right now, it's a pretty nice sum of dough. I am not sure what I'm going to buy with it though. Need ideas.

Friday, June 10, 2005


Apparently my children are teachers pets. Alex has received two cards from her teacher so far this summer and Brianna received her first yesterday. Brianna reads the card and was a little shocked about who it was from...

After a moment of thought, she exclaimed, "How did she find our mailbox?!?!"


Yesterday I took my daughters to the lake to work with them on swimming. Alex wants to see how long she can hold her breath under water.

She says, "Count Mississippis, Dad."

So I do.

She comes up and asks, "How long was it?"

"Twelve seconds."

"No, Dad. How many Mississippis?"


Apparently I haven't given cats the credit they deserve. This would've made a much better scene in Office Space.

"Cats use fax as toilet, spark house fire

Jun 10, 10:04 AM (ET)

TOKYO (Reuters) - Two kittens picked the wrong place to relieve themselves when they urinated on a fax machine, sparking a fire that extensively damaged their Japanese owner's house.

Investigators in the western city of Kobe have concluded that the fire in January was caused by a spark generated when the urine soaked the machine's electrical printing mechanism.

The fire damaged the kitchen and living room before it was put out by the house's owner, who was treated for mild smoke inhalation, said Masahito Oyabu, a fireman at the Nagata fire station in central Kobe.

The kittens quickly ran to safety, he added.

"If you have a cat, or a dog for that matter, be careful where they urinate," Oyabu said. "Especially keep them away from electrical appliances and wires." "


An old lady takes her German Shepherd to the vet. The vet checks the dog over and says, "Ma'am, this dog is perfectly healthy. What's the problem?"

"He keeps humping me," the old lady says.

"Oh, I see," says the vet. "Do you want me to have him fixed?"

"NO!" she says turning to lift her blouse up her back, "Trim his nails, these fucking scratches are killing me."


I'm sending out two father's day cards and thinking...why waste the stamp and the cards. I mean, I usually get a card, read it and pitch it. I don't even let it set on the table for an hour or so (unless the giver is right there). I just don't get cards, ceremony or clowns.


When I was 8 or 9 or so, I LOVED Fruit Loops. We were poor, very poor...and I wasn't usually allowed to get that kind of cereal. On Saturday afternoon my mom came home with groceries and in it was FRUIT LOOPS (insert beggin' strips commerical voice there). I was fucking stoked!

But I couldn't have any for dinner. :( Fuggin' parents.

The next morning I was primed. I'd dreamt all night about eating FRUIT LOOPS and sopping up the sugary-slice-of-heave-milk at the end. Oh man, I couldn't wait.

I walk into the kitchen and of all things my mom is making breakfast. She NEVER, NEVER, EVER, NEVER cooked breakfast.

"Can I have Fruit Loops instead," I asked.

"No, I'm making ham and eggs."

It was intentional. They were fucking with me. They wanted to send me over the edge, to the looney-bin with you kid. No FRUIT LOOPS for you!

I ate the damn ham and eggs. They were horrible, disgusting...worst thing ever. I was pissed. PISSED. I was RAGED...I'm talking Braveheart rage here.

We went to stupid church after breakfast. I fumed the whole way. Sitting in church I started getting sick. My dad told me to go sit in the car.

I did.

Then I puked fourteen times the volume of ham and eggs consumed all over the floor of the car.

Take that!

Thursday, June 09, 2005

Am I?

Let's get into stereo-types. Am I, or am I not, a redneck, hick, white trash. Pros and cons. You decide...maybe decide what stereo-type you'd be mostly likely classified as if by a stranger and post pros-and-cons.

So, pro will be something that fits the mold of a redneck, cons break the stereo-type.

Pro 1. All of my cars are American.
Con 1. I have all of my teeth.
Pro 2. I own a car that has parts more valuable than the car.
Pro 3. The car is on jack stands.
Con 2. The car runs, all of my cars run.
Pro 4. I own 4 cars, and only have two people in the house that can drive.
Pro 5. My goatee is longer than my penis...yup, it's at least 2.5 inches long.
Pro 6. I own a pair of cowboy boots and a cowboy hat.
Con 3. I only bought them because my wife likes that shit, I don't wear them. Actually, I wear the hat when I have to work outside on really hot days.
Pro 7. I am white.
Con 4. I have a tan.
Pro 8. I am unemployed, my wife works.
Pro 9. I do not have a college degree.
Pro 10. I do not have a trade.
Con 5. I am going to my junior year of a math degree.
Con 6. I have been published.
Pro 11. So have lots of hicks.
Pro 12. I prefer fishing to golf.
Con 7. I own a house...NOT a trailer.
Pro 13. The house is a fixer-upper.
Con 8. I don't like country music.
Pro 14. I am a christian.
Con 9. I don't own a horse, a saddle, chew tobacco, smoke or drink Budweiser or Coors light.
Pro 15. I do like Coors however.

Whaddaya think?

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Food of Love

Ok, another food post. I get so proud of myself when my kids are eating this food and all I hear is "mmmm," and "oooh," and stuff like that.

Tonight was shishkabobs...big deal, right? All of that gay-ass veggie stuff between the meat, yuck. Spare me, just give me steak.

Well, I wrapped 13 to 15 count shrimp (JUMBO-Shrimp), wrapped in prosciutto...that million times better than bacon stuff and threw them on the skewers. I also took some sweet italian sausage out of the casings and made meat balls of those...seared them and put them on the skewers with pineapple, red bell pepper, onion, roma tomatoes and zucchini. For a side dish ( like we needed one after 18 STUFFED skewers), I grilled asparagus.

Oh my. Everything was SWEET, even the onions. And since I already had the prosciutto and the sausage, and the shrimp was $9.00 (on sale, big time), it was even a cheap meal. Kicked the shit out of spaghetti anyway.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005


My wife had a dermatologist appointment and myself an eye appointment. After that we went SHOPPING! Spent a whole $15.00. Our summer budget sucks ass this year.

There were lots of things we wanted to buy, but didn't have the money so decided to wait until we had more dough.

We're sitting in the parking lot, getting ready to leave and this truck pulls up in front of the store's door, and out run two men, with a cart full of boxes. They're being chased and yelled at by 4 or 5 employees, but the two me toss the entire cart in the truck bed, hop in and the truck takes off.

Unfreaking believable. Why didn't I think of that?!?!?!?!?

Actually, the group looked very suspicious, they didn't fit and one guy looked kinda weirded-out. It was a 50 something, scraggley looking black dude, and two 20-something hispanics and they were shopping around in the women's shoes. I guess the liberal medai got to me because I ended up dismissing my suspicions because I had to have been just being a prejudice asshole.

What I wanted to do was chase their stupid asses down, or at least follow them. And I wished I was outside of the store, NOT in my car. I would have tackled at least one of the bastards.

But what I really wanted was to walk out of the store with a bunch of stuff that we would've liked to have...similarly to how they did. Only I won't cross that line.

Fucking dirt bags.

Friday, June 03, 2005

I'm a smaller man...

Twenty pounds smaller since March 15th or so. I've lost a lot more fat than 20 pounds, and put on a lot of muscle...and so the scale not moving gets frustrating sometimes, but I'm glad it's finally broken through the 20 pound mark!

Now for some beer and chocolate chip cookies to celebrate. :)

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Big trouble

Last night I took my family fishing. We caught a bat! It got tangled in two fishing lines! A BAT! I was able to free it eventually but I think it had a broken, um arm? Wing? Whatever.

Then this morning Rosco, our female English Mastiff, was out. No big deal right? Wrong. She is on the toughest collar you can buy and inside of a kennel. She got off of the collar and then punched a hole in the chain link.

She enjoys escaping to protect the neighbors cars...from the neighbors. They're trying to go to work in the morning and can't get in their cars. I wonder what they'd tell their bosses. lol

Here are some pics of Rosco and her damage. You'll have to copy and paste these links because stupid geocities will post an error if you just click on the link.

Here's the hole in the fence:

Here's the collar:
And here's the "Sorry Dad," look:

Tuesday, May 31, 2005

Irony and randomness

I enjoy fishing overnight for catfish and bass. It's quiet, there are no kids that need entertaining, the weather is PERFECT and it's just quiet time. I stayed out last night until 3 am, and only caught one fish, not even a keeper. But it's enjoyable.

On the way home I took my usual short cut to the lake; a windy back road that's 99% void of anything but cattle. It's a beautiful windey road that mirrors a river bed and is lined with large cottonwoods. Best part is that it was a dirt road until a few years ago when they paved it...meaning the road is new, where most roads in this part of the state are worse than dirt roads.

Anyhow, I'm driving along and a county sheriff pulls up behind me and tailgates me for a long time. His damn lights were BRIGHT! I was getting pissed off, ready to pull over and either let him pass or save him the trouble of turning on his overheads.

Then I realized the song on the radio was, "I Shot the Sheriff." LOL


On the way out to the lake, there was that stupid Nirvana song where the chorus is, "Rape ME..." over and over again. I actually like the song, but the words are stupid. If you request to be raped, then it's no longer rape. Role playing, sure, but not really rape.


I bought four large bunches of broccoli yesterday and the cashier charged me for bananas. She looked at the screen adn saw that it was ringing up bananas and just kind of shrugged and gave a sheepish look, trying to see if I had noticed. Cool because bananas are WAY cheaper than broccoli.


We have several dogs, one is a chihuahua. She is an amazingly sweet dog, but amazingly stupid. The weight of her stupidity is hard to explain, but here's a shot.

Cheryl walked into the bathroom one evening and Boo, the chihuahua, followed her. Cheryl left, turned off the light and teh dog started howling and crying. Cheryl went back in, turned the light on and the dog was just as happy as hell to see her. The dog got lost with the light off.

Yesterday Brianna had a friend come over to play. They dressed up one of our other dogs, Brigette, ( a schnauzer) in a dress and ribbons. Briggie and Boo had been playing for an hour together with Briggie dressed up like that. Then we let the two of them outside and suddenly Boo is vurious at whatever that creature wearing bows and a dress was. She literally freaked.

Lastly, she always runs and slides on the tile and slams into stuff...and she does it over and over and over again. She runs to jump on the chair and jumps too soon, smashing into the side of it...turns around and tries again, exactly the same way, exactly the same result. I think she should replace that litigation-happy John McCain.

Monday, May 30, 2005


Alex, my 11 year old daughter has finally learned to ride her bike! We don't have a place that makes riding a bike easy, much less learning. But we decided that this summer we'd get it.

She was REALLY close, right away. I'd help her, and she'd be doing it and then get scared and stop. She'd practice on her own and HAVE IT, but not be sure of herself and quit.

So yesterday afternoon I was pushing her, and let go...and stopped...and she kept going, thinking I was right there. Then she turned her head and saw that I was 25 feet behind her and got scared again. But by then she saw that she had it and is now riding very well.


My wife's brother and his wife came down Thursday and Friday. We went fishing and had a pretty good time. They brought Team America and I was laughing so hard because the movie was SO STUPID. But I loved the songs...those were the best songs of all time.

Thursday, May 26, 2005

The following is true...

It's said that everybody has a personal space; an invisible barrrier that if left unbreached, allows a person to feel comfortable. Once that personal space is invaded though, people get nervous and want to back away until their comfort zone is realized again.

It's also said that one of the most feared possibilities, one of the most common nightmares involves being naked in public. Worse yet, being seen in the bathroom.


The warehouse latrine offered no comfort-zone. Each commode was a 18 inches from the next, no privacy dividers to write clever sayings or to read phone numbers advertising various oral services.

The urinals were gigantic troughs an arm's stretch from the toilets. If you were a crap-house pick-pocket, this would be your favorite hang-out.

I was in luck was empty. My early morning rise during down time paid off! I would have my space, I would not be denied my privacy.

Fourteen pounds of gear hung around me. My load carrying gear, the stuff that your canteens, ammo pouches, first aid kit and other miscellaneous junk (like cigarettes and playing cards) are attached to, swung open hanging from my shoulders. My gas mask, attacked to my leg, lay over on the right side, touching the commode next to me. My M-16 lay across my bare knees and my helmet was between my boots.

More than nature's call, this was refuge. Quite time in a place where one was not required to salute officers or follow any other military protocol.

I sighed, the tension in my shoulders washing away. My neck relaxed. Four more days, then I could go back to the barracks, my bed, with my stereo and my stuff. Six more months and I'd be OUT and I could go home to my family and be Super Dad.

The captain walked in with his two little pet LT's. My shoulders tightened and my breath sped up. Time to be proud soldier again...proud soldier doing his duty.

Like a dog sniffing a pole, the captain walked beside the urinal selecting a good spot while reaching for his buttons. He found a suitable target, just askew from directly in front of me, and turned. Over his shoulder he said to me, "What's the word, Brown?"

"Dignity sir, dignity. If only my mother could see me now...," I said, letting the sentence trail off.

Like an old woman's chihuahua that heard a morsel of food hit the ground, the captain's pets snapped their gaze in my direction and began to scowl.

The captain bent over, laughing. Like a trapped living thing realizing its escape was real, its intensity, its drive and emotion grew exponentially. The Lt's then bobbed their heads up and down, smiling and holding their sides in mock laughter, gotta keep pace.

The captain though, his face was red when he looked at me, his eyes wet. He said in gasps, "Yeah, I supposed she be real proud right about now."

Wednesday, May 25, 2005

The best meal I've ever made...

Maybe even the best I've ever had...its' called chicken saltimbocca. It's italian and I think it means "like having sex in your mouth."

Anyhow, basically it's chicken breast rolled and stuffed with a little cheese, prosciutto (if you've never had it, it's like bacon times infinity!), and fresh basil leafs cooked in this lemon/chicken broth sauce.

EDIT: I forgot to tell you how to put it together. You get boneless chicken breasts and if they're super thick, slice it in half, length wise. Then pound them thing. Place a pice of prosciutto in them, then a leaf or two of fresh basil and maybe a leaf of baby spinach for more color. Then sprinkle either a little (not much, too much cheese will ruin it) mozerella or fresh parmesian cheese over teh top. Then roll the chicken pieces and pin them with tooth picks.

Mix 1 can of chicken broth, a lemon with the zest, salt and pepper, maybe some thyme. Heat some olive oil, sear the chicken on each side, then add the sauce. Immediately turn down the heat to simmer, scrape the bottom of the pan (Do NOT USE good stuff like this doesn't work as well), and cover for about 15 minutes.

When the chicken is done, remove it and cook teh sauce down a little, reducing it by about half. Then pour the remaining sauce over the chicken.

When I served it, I swear, I've never seen food disappear that fast. Heck, when my wife drove up the drive way, I tried to NOT let her know something special was being cooked, but she said that she could smell it outside. Dang it.

For a side dish, prosciutto and peas. Take 2 cloves of garlic and 2 or 3 shallots and chop them, sautee them in olive oil. Then chop fresh spinach into small pieces (basically dice it) and add the peas and spinach to the garlic and shallots after they've carmilized. If you're using frozen peas, which I do, thaw them. YOu don't want the ice getting in there and watering things down. After the peas are warm (but not soft) add the prosciutto and serve.

Prosciutto is expensive, very expensive. Like $5.00 for 3 in the peas you can substitute canadian bacon or something like that.

Which brings me to my main point. I'm super husband! ;)

Any other favorite recipes?

Soap Box Post...

What if, to compliment the NAACP, there existed a NAANCP? So you'd have the national association for the advancement of colored people, and in the spirit of equal opportunity, the national association for the advancement of non-colored (white-whatever that means) people.

Would the NAANCP then be consider racist because it was discriminating according to color of skin?

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Dad stuff...

I hung shelves and helped my rug rats organize their room today. They've only been cleaning their room for about 3 years now. I have absolutely no idea why it doesn't get, or stay, clean. Let me explain.

Two weekends ago we cleaned out the closet. Behind every imaginable molecule were stuffed clothes, toys, scraps of paper and weapons of mass destruction, seriously. These kids are bad mutha fuggers, don't mess with 'em.

Anyhow, we had a 'talk' about the clothes. They were deliberately shoved behind stuff instead of having been put in the proper places.

Fast forward seven days...we clean under the beds. No clothes under there, but tons and tons of 'things.' Little stuff, like uber-miniature groceries, millimeter-square scraps of paper and crayon shavings. We cleaned that out and went over where the trash can is, the purpose of the said trash can, the proper proceedure to follow when the trash can is full, and so on.

Fast forward another few days to today. We're hanging shelves, have already removed an entire car load of toys to the Salvation Army (have another load tomorrow, literally), and also removed 6 bags of trash...junk from school, broken stuff, and trashed clothes.

The room is finally in a condition where I can vacuum the floor. I lift the blanket hanging over Brianna's bed and there is a stack of clean, folded clothes.

I have no idea why their room is such a dump! Guess it's time to go back to nightly inspections. What a pain in the ass that is.

So my question is, did you keep a messy room and what did your parents do about it...and did it work?

So if your car leaks 4 quarts every 3000 miles...

If you car leaks four quarts of oil every three thousand miles, does that mean you don't need to change your oil?

Monday, May 23, 2005


This just in: I have the stinkiest gas of my life. It's so bad, it's not even fun anymore. Usually when you have really stinky ones, it's kind of fun to gross everybody out.

But this is grossing me out. I know the cat has been missing for a week or so, I think I know where it is now.