Monthly Archives: August 2023

08.27.23
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Daily Prompt

Daily writing prompt
What TV shows did you watch as a kid?
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All the worst you can imagine.

I used to love Saturday morning cartoons. Back then the anvil could still hit the coyote, Popeye could give someone a good ass whuppin, Elmer Fudd could hunt wabbits with a shotgun, and Bugs was a crossdresser.

It was great! I wish I could still see those old cartoons now deemed “harmul to children.” I believe the cartoon police went a little too far with deeming the classic cartoons as “violent.” Shit man,watch the evening news if you want violent. Go to the movies if you want violent. Say hello to a cop while being the wrong color if you want violent. Those old cartoons are classic. An anvil landing on the coyote does not a violent child make.

As far as that goes, violence is pretty much baked into our existence, we are a violent species. The cartoons didn’t have anything to do with it…

I also watched a lot of Gilligans Island. Gilligan was on, right arount the time I got home from school. Hogans Heroes was on after supper, I remember watching that one too.

On Friday nights where I lived, we had a late night show called “Accri’s Creature Feature.” Accri was an aluminum siding company that sponsored the show. The Creature Feature had all of those old corny sci-fi monster movies we used to love to hate.*

When I got a little older I’d watch some Johnny Carson, and Saturday Night Live. Both TV show Icons. Both still running today.

So, what did you watch?

*Strangely enough I still enjoy those same movies on MST 3000. If you don’t know what Mystery Science Theater is, google it. Get your head straight right before you watch it 😉 FYI, Pluto (free TV!!) has its very own MST 3000 channel! I love me some MST 3000.

MST 3000 is still pretty funny even if you don’t umm, enjoy a little evening buzz.

08.21.23
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Daily Prompt

Daily writing prompt
What do you enjoy most about writing?
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I never truly know where an idea will go once I decide to engage it. The words begin to flow, then other things cross my mind along the way, and get incorporated into my writing. The ability to write starts as a blank slate, but once engaged with what prompted you to write in the first place, well you can drift a little.

Drifting, takes you places you didn’t know you were going. Then, sometimes you get comments. Comments tend to drift from the initial subject as well. This can be an enlightening experience. Opening up, expanding on the initial subject, turning your initial work into an entertaining learning opportunity.

Sometimes I’m even forced to Google! Well whatayaknow, I didn’t know that! I enjoy learning new things.

Writing is also a form of release. You can let that rant out. Somewhat freeing you from its burden.

Speaking of burden, loaded up most of my sons belongings in the truck/covered trailer yesterday evening. He is off to college this morning. He and a good friend he has hung out with, and worked with for years, are splitting rent on a nice apartment. We got them moved in this morning. Only no electricty yet, and everything but the sofa, matching chair, and kitchen table & chairs, went up the stairs. All 15 of them. Geeze Louise! We got started early, but it was already getting hot. Got to 101 heat index today.

So we are lugging all this stuff up the stairs, in the heat, with no air. I quickly saturated my shirt with sweat. Glad I packed a dry shirt! Also glad we had plenty of cold drinks on hand as well. Damn it’s hot.

Got home and had a bit of time to kill before I had to load up some shells and haul them to market. In the heat. Did I mention it’s hot?

Trust me, neither the wife or I feel like cooking this day. So we got pizza on the way home. I was eating pizza as this was written. Bet you didn’t know that did you?

So on the way home, I see a little roadside stand with a sign out front. “Peaches.” You know how long its been since I have had a good peach? You know, that mouth watering, plump, juicy, tree ripened peach just loaded with wonderful peachy-ness? It’s been decades since I’ve had a good peach. So I pull in. I’m getting a damn peach.

Well, they were expensive. Surprisingly so. I got 3 lbs for $15. Let them keep the $5 change from a $20, because those folks looked like they might melt by the roadside.

I got home, fished out a peach, rinsed it under the sink, got me a bite. Oh, wow! That peach was gobbled up, practically non stop, right at the kitchen sink. I planted my face in that peach and worked around to the other side, almost without taking a moment to breathe. It was that good. If peachy-ness has a scale from 1-10, it was a 20! Incredible. I remember peaches like that when I was kid. Haven’t had one in so long I can’t remember. That store bought crap, the stuff you bring home green, and let it ripen on the counter a day or two till it seems about right? NOT EVEN CLOSE!

I’d have paid $20 for that one peach.

You learn something every day.

Did I drift a little? 😉

08.15.23
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Happy Indictment Day!

Well, happy morning after indictment day. 😉

Yet again, for the fourth time if anyone is counting, our orange fatuous ninny, ex president, wannabe dictator, has been indicted in Ga. I’m sure everyone has heard by now. But I feel the need to comment.

“It’s about freaking time!” Finally, the Georgia, 11,780 vote scandal, is getting some light. What really stands out to me, is the number of co-conspirators, 18! But that’s not all folks. This fake elector scam was being enacted in several other states, and, apparently, had the blessing of several congress critters.

I will not be happy until every single state this was attempted in, also files charges, and brings these disgusting, traitorous rats, out into the light.

I also want to identify, and charge, whatever congress critters were in support of this attempted coup, by election fraud. These dirty rats are as guilty as the rest of them.

I want this fiasco investigated to the very depths of hell, if that’s what it takes, to find and root out, and charge everyone involved, at every level.

This thing goes deeper yet. We just have to keep digging and see what else there is to find. I’m sure there’s plenty.

Meanwhile, in complete faux fantasyland, R’s everywhere are decrying this latest indictment as “Overreach of power,” “Weaponization of the Justice Dept,” “What about Hunter Biden?” What about Hillary’s e-mails?” “What about Benghazi?” “Defund the Federal Investigation!””What about my stubbed toe? It must have been a D conspiracy!”

Jeebus, these pathetic bastards are so predictable…

08.12.23
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Diving Is An Adventure

I’ve been hitting the river a couple of time a week. Digging shells, as Shelldiggers are wont to do. It’s a unique job, combining water aerobics, with dragging a boat behind you, and weight lifting, all into one activity. I’m tethered to a boat with my lifeline, which is a good sturdy rope duct taped (Red Green anyone?) to my air line. Air is supplied with an oilless compressor in the boat, driven by an 6.5hp IC engine.

So I get my boat to the water, launch it, park the truck, motor to a spot I know has shell there, or a new spot I hope has shell there, get all my gear situated for a dive, wrestle my way into a wet suit, and damn, I’ve already done more work than your average Joe manages in an entire day before I’ve even gotten wet.

Now I will crank the compressor engine, and I’ll watch the pressure guage as I’m getting ready to make a dive. I have to put on my knee pads, and pull on my diggers. Diggers are cheap ass faux leather wally world boots, that each have a modified flat bar, nail puller, bolted to them, with about 2.5″ of the flat bar protruding from the toes on the underside of the boot, made em myself. This protrusion allows for much greater traction on hardpan clay, steep inclines, and especially windy days. No shelldigger worth his weight in styrofoam goes without diggers. Side note, I knew, and thought very highly of the guy who came up with diggers. He was my friend and very well thought of, in the local diver community. Sadly he died digging shells on the Cumberland river many years ago. I really liked that guy. He had a family too…

Where was I? Ok, got my diggers on, time to get into my weight belt/harness, buckle that bad boy up, spit in a mask, rub that spit around (spit is a great defogger and it’s always in the boat,) rinse it off with a dunk in the river, put on the mask, then put on my helmet. Yeah, I said helmet. It has a 12v halogen bulb on it, that runs off my boat battery. The boat battery doesn’t drain because that 6.5 hp engine is also driving an old 1 wire style alternator, incorporated into the air compressor system, that keeps my battery charged. I started using a light back in 1990 digging shells on the Cumberland River. It turned dives that were absolute and complete lack of visibility, the sort of darkness that can only be reproduced in the depths of caves, the bottom of the ocean, or the bottom of a river 50-60 feet deep, into dives where I could at least see the river bottom within 2 feet of my surroundings. The light, not needed in shallower water so much, still comes in handy for identifying things you might pick up down there, or at times it helps you spot shells that might be keepers.

Now, I put a shell bag around my neck, attach a float rope to my weight belt, so I can tie off the sack and send the float up so I can motor to it later, and get that sack in the boat after I have get 2-3 sacks full. Time to pull anchor and jump in.

Dig shells, till I get a good sack. Usually between 80-100 lbs. Float that sack, fill another. Float that sack and get in the boat for lunch. You don’t realize all of that weight in the water, but when you pull it into the boat you notice it then. The shells, well everything, has some amount of buoyancy in the water. I usually make 2 long dives per day. Putting in 4-5.5 hours of downtime per day. Sometimes 6.

Well, I’m getting to be too old for this shit. And I have a chronic pain back condition. So I’m limited to 2 days a week max. I used to do this 6-7 days a week, but I was much younger then and hadn’t broke my back down yet 🙂

So, a couple days back I put in a good day. I’m wore out, physically exhausted, but still have to manufacture the energy to get this boat loaded up, and arrange my boat stuff for trailering, move a few buckets into the back of the truck to keep the load on the trailer down, and get back into my street clothes.

As I’m on the way to the truck, I see a bass boat on the water, pretty much right in my direction of travel. I can swing wide if I want to, but I don’t want to. I decided to take a straight shot to my truck, and slow down to idle by the fishermen in the boat instead of making a wide turn around them at speed. Perfectly acceptable water ethics. I’ve done this for decades with no issues, usually I’ll exchange a wave and a nod to people in this situation, all is well as I idle by, leaving no wake to endanger or irritate anyone, and then I motor up and move on my way. No harm, no foul. But this time, the guys in the boat seemed agitated.

Angry even. As I got closer both guys were standing up with a wtf? stance, pissed that I dared to get this close to them. I’m idled down and slowly passing and they start yelling, so I get a little closer to hear them, curious what the hell their problem is. Turns out these guys are mad because in their opinion I was too close.

They are yelling at me, and I gather they feel I’m in their “casting range” and not happy about it. I responded with “thats the funniest damn thing I’ve ever heard, from a bass fisherman.”

From the encyclopedia of Shelldigger, under the heading “Bass Fishermen”: Bass: noun, a type of fish. Fishermen: noun, plural, people who catch fish with nets, or traps, and often rod and reel, for fun and food.

Bass fishermen, are a sub species of human. They tend to have really fast boats that costs boatloads of $$, and often frequent inland waters, lakes, and rivers, in search of bass. They catch these bass for sport and participate in tournament fishing, where the biggest catch provides them cash rewards and lot of jealousy from the other fishermen who did not fare so well. These sub humans, are so honest, the winners have to go through a rigorous lie detector test in any tournament they win, because so many of them have been caught cheating over the years. Regular Trumpers.

Bass fishermen run up and down rivers and lakes at frightening speeds. Exceeding 70-80 mph. Which is very damn fast on the water. They put little value in no wake zones, people in other boats, and especially diver down flags. They will not stop to help a stranded boat on the water. In some cases they will not even deign to even speak to an actual human when approached, probably in fear of a conversation that might ensue, well above their ability to think. There should be an entire scientific field of study on bass fishermen, and their complete lack of empathy, and concern, for other boats/people on the water they inhabit. This concludes the entry in the encyclopdia of Shelldigger.

“That’s the funniest damn thing I’ve ever heard from a bass fisherman.” Oh that riled em up. The guy at the stern hereafter referred to as Dumb, he was short, a bit stocky, sunglasses, and suffering from little man syndrome, he was cussing me and tried to take a few steps towards me, I guess he was going to kick my ass, and he ran into the console of the boat. I suppose that’s good because unless he is Jesus he wouldn’t have walked too well when he got to the water. Dipstick. The other guy, henceforth known as Ass, he was the ringleader, I can read assholes from 100 yards. I knew he was the one to keep an eye on. Ass took a more steadied stance and was busy trying to size me up when I responded with “I’ve been out here for forty fucking years, and ain’t none of you sons of bitches EVER cut me any slack.”

Well Dumb, he continued hurling invectives my way, while Ass just sort of stood there. I just shook my head, and now well clear of my wake causing them any discomfort, I headed for the truck, didn’t give them the pleasure of looking back.

A couple of Billy Bob redneck bass fishermen, going to educate me on water ethics. I don’t think so.

The thing that stands out to me though, is the readiness to jump straight to verbal abuse and a threat of physical altercation. These guys are obviously a sub genus to the usual sub human bass fisherman type.

Redneckithis dumbassicus moronicus.

Whatever happened to real people?

Y’all stay safe out there. Beware of Bass Fishermen.

08.05.23
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12 YEARS

Just saw the notification. I’ve been with WP for 12 years. Doesn’t seem like it, but time does have a way of moving along.

Just a shout out to my friends/followers to say “thanks!” Thanks for putting up with me this long lol. Thanks for sticking with me. I’ve enjoyed my WP time. Wish I was a super blogger who can crank out posts daily. But that just isn’t in the cards for me at the moment. Too busy with life and no sign of it slowing down any, even though I will welcome it when it gets here.

Is it here yet?

Guess not. So y’all just going to have to take what you can get 😉

Side note, no good deed goes unpunished. Took the wife out for Mexican a couple days back, to celebrate her birthday. Was pulling into the parking lot, and a stupid redneck truck, you know, the lifted truck with its wheels sticking out a foot on both sides was moving through on my left, I’m watching this dingbat get clear so I can line up a parking spot, and my wife yells “Aggghhhhhhh!” I look her way and all I see is the tailgate of a once parked truck maybe 8 inches from hitting the passenger door where she was sitting. I layed on the horn, but he backed into us anyway. It was thankfully a low speed hit, damaged the front fender and passenger door. Wife is fine, but if that guy had his trailer hitch attached to his truck, that might have got through the door. But we lucked out there.

We went on ahead and ate at the restauraunt after the coppers left. Should hear back from the guys insurance co. in a week or so. He was clearly at fault, and his insurance should cover the damage. But like I said, no good deed goes unpunished. Might as well go ahead and put that one on my tombstone!

Life can be like that. But what ya going to do?

Oh! And another Happy Indictment Day! We might still get another in Ga. too! Can you believe the R Party and the idiot voters who identify as R, still have their heads up that orange idiots backside? Just wow. It truly is a cult at this point, as there is no sign of independent thought whatsoever from any of them. It’s all “Praise the Orange One!” and apparently nothing will change their minds about the criminality of their dear leader.

That dear leader being the most shallow, insincere, narcissistic, full of shit, incapable of speaking the truth, wannabe mafia don, all packaged in the form of the fat kid bully who stole money from kindergarten kids back in grade school, except now sporting a disgusting orange hue. Un-fucking-believable, this is the jackass they so much adore that he can literally murder someone on 5th Avenue, and they would not care. Cult of idiots.

Well, got to run, ya’ll stay safe out there.