I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks

A local town supervisor, in a small mountain community here in northern New York, has come under fire from auditors from the New York State Comptroller's Office. Uh-oh.

Seems his bookeeping was just a wee slovenly.

For one, all workers are supposed to punch in and out on a time clock--which many apparently haven't been doing. Says Mr. Jobsworth; he did not require them to punch a time clock on days when they were called in early in the winter to plow snow or to salt and sand roads.
"I didn’t want to call them in from the road to punch a clock," he said.

Riiiight. We'll just ask Johnny Snowplowman, what hours he thinks he may have worked today...just a ballpark guesstimate, ol' John-boy, wink-wink and a nudge.

And, town roadway maintenance employees are normally supposed to work 8 hours days (except during emergencies)...but the town had other ideas.

a labor contract between the town and the union that represents Highway Department workers dictated that they work four 10-hour days between May and September.

Wood said the discrepancy occurred because, when they took time off during that period, they were charged for 8 hours of time off instead of the full 10 hours that was their workday at that point of the year.

So, every time a worker took a day off, he was left with two extra hours of time he could take later....which they didn't bother to take into account, when it came time to keep the books, apparently.

All told, eight employees of the town's Highway Department received 684 hours of extra time off...which the supervisor forgot to account for in his official paperwork.

The state comptroller’s audit faulted the town’s finances and bookkeeping on a number of levels during the 2007 and 2008 period.

Small town politics, ya' gotta' love it!

It's stopped already, but just a few minutes ago, I looked out the balcony window, and it was SNOWING! We were having a wee snow flurry! I didn't think it was that cold!

It's unusual to have snow--even a brief little flurry, this early. Brrrr! Going to be a cold winter, this year, I fear!

Erm--I just heard that there was someone running down the main street, in the fog, just before the sunrise this morning, in his erm--altogether...the suit he was born in, naked, nude, rude, in the buff, meat and two veg swinging in the breeze.

Damn, and I missed it!

Maybe he was late for work, and ran out of the shower, forgetting to change?

Maybe he was too tired from an all-night bender, to dress, and decided to change when he got there?

Maybe he was a marathon runner sleep running?

Blimey! On a city street--with bits of glass and doo poo and whatnot? It wasn't exactly warm and toasty this morning, either--maybe he was running cos' he had the chilblains?

A moose in the cemetary and the mall, a deer standing under the traffic light down the way, cop on a segway, model T cars, hot air balloons...now a streaker? Who says living on a main street in this wee mangy northern New York city, can't be interesting?

I just have one more thing to day--doesn't that bloke just look like he's thinking, "Aww-I'd like to serve her!

Here's one of the first photos released of the upcoming Sarah Jane Adventure, in which the Doctor plays a significant role.

I won't mention the plot (unlike some people), cos' I don't like to ruin surprises. Life's too short to ruin something good.

http://www.bridgeandtunnelclub.com/cookery/us/dumplings/02dough.jpg

In going trough some stuff, I found an old chilli recipes I'd invented. I used to be quite the chilli-head, and probably can make chilli about a hundred different ways. The notebook dates from my late teens or very early 20's...so it would be the late 70's or early 80's, that I came up with this:

TRAIL'S END CHILLI:

1 pound ground beef (mince
1 16 ounce can pinto beans, drained
1 16 ounce can tomato puree
1 6 ounce can of tomato paste
2 Tablespoons onion powder (or 1/2 cup diced onions)
1/2 Tablespoon garlic powder (or 1 clove garlic, minced)
2 Tablespoons regular chilli powder
1 Tablespoon dark Mexican-style chilli powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
2 Tablespoons molassas or maple syrup
vegetable oil

In a deep cast iron skillet or dutch oven, brown ground beef in a small amount of oil. Remove meat. Saute onion in oil until softened. Add garlic, and continue to cook about 1 to 2 minutes. Drain off grease from pan. Return meat to pan. Blend in remaining ingredients well. Bring to a boil, then simmer over very low heat, covered, for 30 to 45 minutes. Serve with baking powder biscuits or cornbread, a green salad or boiled ear of fresh sweet corn, and toped with your choice of sliced jalapenos, cheddar cheese and/or diced raw onion--or, this can be served Mexican style, over cooked white or yellow rice.

Biscuit and cornbread recipe links:

http://thereluctantpaladin.blogspot.com/2009/02/cowboy-biscuits-from-heaven.html

http://www.recipegoldmine.com/cowboyD/figure-3-ranch-sourdough-biscuits.html

http://www.recipegoldmine.com/cowboy/cattle-drive-cornbread.html

http://www.recipegoldmine.com/cowboy/cowboy-fry-bread.html

Well, that's it then. A senate committee has nixed the idea of government-provided healthcare---something every other free, democratic CIVILIZED western nation has already provided their sick and suffering, for DECADES.

To me, happiness has more of a retired nature; it is an enemy to noise and haste. I belive true happiness, is a state of mind, which lays its foundations within the heart.

Some of life's greatest joys for me, have often come from the simplest sources: my mum calling me to dinner, children outside laughing as they play, a walk in the rain, playing with puppies, casting my fishing line in the water, a drive in the country with good tunes on the radio, the creak of a saddle as a horse walks along a shady trail, going to a new place, a good conversation over a quiet cup of coffee, seeing a play, watching the sunrise in a dewy field, or the diamond filled skies as I stood in the virgin snow at midnight.

Such moments as these cannot be purchased, they can be collected and displayed on the shelf...but, the can last forever, inside my memory, my heart, which makes them far more valuable, than all the gold in Fort Knox.

Doing the right thing is hard. Doing the wrong thing is incredibly easy. Doing the wrong thing doesn't require any effort, whatsoever. Hate is easy. Racism, homophobia, abuse, criminal behaviour, etc.: easy.

That's why people do it. Not cos' they can get away with it, cos't they're too lazy or bottomless to make the effort to conform to civilization.

President G. W. Bush was the first president to admit he didn't read newspapers, & to condemn science in the name of global warming. Unfortunately, right-wing republicans are the closest America has come to fascism in its history. Their strident, long-time condemnation of "Intellectuals" is classic facsit hardline propaganda.

Bush may be gone, but the attitudes he and his party fostered, are still alive--both here and in our neighbours in Canada, and in the BNP.

I read the BNP is having wee finanical issues. Isn't that a shame? The thing about hate--is that it can't be sustained forever en masse. Things like love, empathy, compassion andcaring, they often doesn't last forever, true. But, hate wears much more thin, becomes more threadbare on its surface over time, than caring and compassion ever could.

"When love is suppressed hate takes its place"--the republican party says they're the party of God--yet, their leaders voted to bomb countries--causing the deaths of tens of thousands of totally innocent people caught up with the wrongdoers...they are blocking health care to 45 million plus of their own citizens...all their pundants feed on lying and hate and tawdry shallow sensationalism, in place of cold, hard, facts. The only love the conservatives feel, is for their own thin skins and hollow souls.

Hatred is the madness of the heart.~ Lord Byron

The opposite of love is not hatred, it's
indifference.~ Elie Wiesel

Hating people is like burning down a house
to get rid of a rat.~ Emerson Fosdick

The price of hating other human beings
is loving oneself less.~ Eldridge Cleaver

There are two dogs inside me. One of the dogs
is mean and evil. The other dog is good. The mean
dog fights the good dog most of the time. Which dog
usually wins? The one I feed the most.~ Native American wisdom

If you a hate a person, you hate something in him that
is part of yourself. What isn't part of ourselves doesn't
disturb us.~ Herman Hesse

So, the cyberdweeb is back today--guess his mum or minder must be away from home. Would he being doing his homework, like a clever child? Nah--he prefers to waste his life, insulting disabled adults.

This is what the cyberfart from Texas (I decided that only Texas could breed such a juvenile fu_kwit) had to say to me today. Such wisdom and eloquent words, he's going to be a real Rhodes Scholar, some day--not.

Sweetie, your vocabulary is a bit limited, isn't it. Gee, what a shame.

jeffy boy [Visitor]
http://techfarty.net/sociopathsrus/html
2009-09-29 @ 17:26
hey ya lyin sack a shit! just wanted to let you know that I have gotten your password from an inside source, and your blog now has till 10:00 P.m before it is destroyed. have a happy day now

I still say this obviously obsessed teenager has secret crush on me. As someone wise once said, and I quote: "You hate someone whom you really wish to love, but whom you cannot love."

Cheers, cyberdweeb.

The giant New York State Fairgrounds won't be all that far from my new location, so I thought to look at what off-season events might be held there.

This coming weekend is a U.S. Equestrian Federation sanction autumn horseshow--amatuer show jumping, essentially, probably some dressage and driving events, as well.

I used to work horseshows for a stable I groomed for, when I was a teenager. Mostly, it entailed laying around on a car bonnet, pickup truck tailgate or lawn chair in the sunshine, holding the leadropes of horses, ha-ha. Used to get a great early tan, that way.

Also at the fairgrounds on that same weekend, is a musical comedy staged by a local amateur group, "Fright nights at the fair," a halloween thing on weekends thru Oct.--they do that a lot around here, at the amusment park and other places.

Let's see what else (I'm looking at the Oct. calendar as I type this), and a rabbit breeders convention and show--ooh, I wonder if my former maths professor/friend, will be there? She was a rabbit breeder, as I recall.

Later that week, they'll be motorsports racing on the dirt track.

Another horseshow on the 16th and 17th, along with a country folk art crafts show, that same day.

18th Oct., there's a sports memorabilia collector's show, a pipe organ society fundraiser event, a horseshow and the Yankee Fall Classic poultry show.

Oooh, this sounds thrilling--the 21st is the New York State Dept of Public Works and Highways big "expo." Bring the kiddies...erm--not.

The 24th is a big antiques show and antiquarian book fair...and a county surplus heavy equipment and vehicle auction.

31st concludes fright nights at the fair, and wraps up with a halloween party.

NOV. events:

Fashion show, used ski sale and swap meet, OOOOH!!!! A model train fair! Uber-cool! gotta try and go to that!

What else...theater organ concert, a Christmas musical (we don't do panto over here), a harvest festival--whatever that is, a motor racing equipment auction..meh.

Nov. 28th--a wine and chocolate festival, and an antiques show wraps up November events.

DEC. events:

The Christmas musical cont., a holiday arts and crafts show, the state's indoor go-kart racing championships, and another organ concert. Meh. Well, who wants to go out in the snow to a fairground, anyway?

The big New York State Fair runs from 27th August, to 7th Sept., so I missed it, this year.

Got this from the fair's website:

Competitive entries are a vital part of the New York State Fair. Last year over 40,000 individual entries were made in various categories, such as culinary, arts and crafts, cattle, dairy goats, rabbits and many more.

People from all over New York State compete with their animals and projects at the New York State Fair. Here they compete against each other - some winning prize money to help with the cost of raising their animals or to help fund their college education. Some compete just for the honor of winning the coveted "Blue Ribbon" or "Grand Champion Rosette". Young and old alike join in the fun of entering. Join others... enter your best cake, prettiest flower, largest pumpkin or favorite pie!

When I lived in Saratoga County, I used to compete in floral design, plants, crafts, antiques...and once in wood carving--I carved a snake's head walking stick on a whim, and..won 1st prize.

I used to get ribbons and small cash awards. I'd taken a floral design course as a recreational night class for adults at the local vo-tech school. I never thought I'd get into it that much, but I really ended up enjoying it. In '97, for an entry in the floral department, I decorated a ladies' hat for the Lady of the Fair competition, and won! I got to wear my hat and a special sash, and ride in a convertable in the fair parade through town, waving at people--it was my first time ever trying to decorate a straw hat.

Sometimes life can really leave me gobsmacked, let me tell you.

I've visited almost all the local county fairs, over the years. County fairs are loads of fun, but I've never been to the big state fair, I'm looking forward to it, next year.

Some moronic American used a Facebook poll, to ask people if they thought that President Obama should be killed.

The tick boxes included these choices:

YES

NO

MAYBE

ONLY IF HE CUTS MY HEALTHCARE

Facebook removed the poll option from their site immediately upon learning of it, and the Secret Service is investigating.

Another American websites offer racist Obama tee-shirts.

A black American teenager, wearing a pro-Obama tee-shirt, was shot three times in the street, with shouts of "Kill Obama!"

However, while republicans gleefully wear anti-Obama tee-shirts, last year they raised a fit--nationally--when someone at an Vote Obama campaign rally, wore an anti-Sarah Palin tee-shirt.

Apparently, "freedom of speech" and hate-mongering only applies to conservative rethuglicans.

Back during the campaign last year, an Obama sign was vandalized in Virginia, with the words, "KKK Kill Obama!"

And, word is, that the powerful racist organization, the KKK, which has in the past watonly murdered many African-Americans--does plan to assasinate the president.

Even the republican party--which is as close as America has ever come to fascism (fascism tends to be anti-intellectual), has laughingly called President Obama, and our own NY Gov. Patterson--whom is also the first black New York Governor, "racist."

Yet, one of the main jokes of the republican party last summer, was: If Obama becomes president, can we still call it the 'White House?'

Obama racist? Riiight. And next election, will the Easter Bunny will be running as an independant, too?

My friend, after I move to my new digs, very kindly--incredibly kindly--offered to help me set up house, putting up bookshelves and whatnot, offering a sofa, and other items for my use.

Now, I enjoy decorating my home, but, I'm afraid, despite the presence of some silk floral arrangments and a few feminine pictues on the walls--some of my apartment can be a wee erm--butch...for a middle aged woman, anyway.

Or chavvy, if you want to go that far.

So, I reckon, what this butch woman needs, are these guys here:

Well, another day of cleaning and clearing out. Three boxes of "stuff" for my yard sale, a box of clothing and one of books, so far...plus some bits of rather mangy furniture. It wasn't good furniture when I bought it used, years ago, now it's more than a bit well-used, but, I'll price it very cheap--practically free, and hopefully someone will want it.

I hope the weather will cooperate for the yard sale. I wish we had boot sales here, cos' selling to a mob of people, is easier than just sitting around your front lawn, waiting for people to stop by and look.

But, we don't do boot sales over here--tho' there are flea markets sometimes--yet, unless they're a one-shot deal put on by some school or church or other organization as a fund-raiser, you have to have a tax registration card, and charge sales tax, if you go to a commercial flea market.

I did that for five years, and it was a pain in the old bum. Not the forms you had to fill out--the attitude of the jobsworth's that processed the forms...suspicious lot. Sometimes I had few sales, as perhaps the flea market was poorly promoted--or, more likely, the weather was so rubbish we didn't bother to go to an outdoor flea market. Then, the tax dept. woman would interrogate me, as to why I showed no tax collection for that weekend---because there was a virtual hurricane that weekend, you stupid cow! Don't you watch the Weather Channel?!?

Blimey! I'm getting old!

My elementary school 8th year graduating class of 1975 (43 students), is holding their reunion on 10th of Oct. I'd love to go, but it's impossible, of course.

Now, I just got an invitation from my high school senior year graduating class of 1979 (500+ students), for some big blowout 30 year reunion party, held at a posh hotel near the international airport down in the capital city of Albany.

Jeez--if I were posh and rich, I'd be busy, ha-ha.

I woke at half-past six with with a dull, cramping pain, not the best way in the world to wake up, ey?

It started way down in my right lower quadrant, below my stomach...now it's creeping up into my right lower part of my stomach, too. It started last night, woke me up a couple of times.

Oh, it's not bad, I can fuction OK, it's just rather uncomfortable. I can move, tho' sitting is a bit painful. I'm not nauseous--tho' I have been, at times, lately, but not with this. I took some ibuprofen, so maybe that will help.

Probably just another stomach bug, I reckon. No clue where I could have picked it up from, as I really haven't been anywhere since Thursday.

It's chilly in here...but, that may be because I forgot to shut the lounge window, last night. My wee thermometer says it's 59 F, in here. Just a wee cool, then, ha-ha.

The rain and storms have cleared off, and the sky outside is baby blue, with just a few grey-pink clouds, as usual, drifting over the Hudson River to my south.

When I move, next month--outside of the summer I lived in Wyoming, in 1980, this will mark the first time I've ever lived more than a mile or two from the Hudson River, and my beloved Upper Hudson Valley.

Something weird happened Sunday, when I was going thru the box of family photos. The photos span a range of the 1900's to the present day, and are pics of all the people and places encompassing our family for those years.

Flame is a "licker," she likes to lick the other cats and me, as a sign of affection...or an attention getter, depending on her current motivation--she sometimes licks me when she wants to be fed, as well.

My wee ginger cat, Flame, she was mum's cat. Stayed by her all thru mum's illness. Like Boots stayed by me, thru my recent injury-illness, Flame never left mum's side--would get upset, if mum couldn't sleep or was realy ill.

I miss mum, all the time. Something weird happened, when I was going thru the box of family photos. I was sorting photos, and had a stack of pics of my mum. There were several stacks--pics of my nephew, sister, dad and misc. relations--five seperate piles of photographs, sitting all around me on the bedroom floor.

On top of the "mum" pile, was a large head shot of mum, taken in the 1940's, probably. Flame wandered over to me, walking around the box, finally settled down. She was crouched next to one pile of photographs, hunched over the pile of mum's pics.

Flame stared down at the pile of photos of mum, from a baby pictue to photos taken in her last years, as I said, there was that sort of large portrait shot of mum on top...and then Flame bent her head down, and started licking mum's face!

That was really bizzare, watching that. I thought maybe there was some kind of smell on the paper, which aroused her curiosity--she's the epitomy of the curious cat, but...who knows?

To pass the time, I took a few online quizes.

Embarrassed to say I only got 32 out of 36 points on the geography quiz (embarrassed cos' I took "world geography" course in college). I forgot where the Indian Ocean and the Southern Ocean were located.

http://www.lizardpoint.com/fun/geoquiz/worldquiz.html

I really sucked at "Europe"--I bombed out at all those wee Eastern European nations. It would be easier to ask me the capitals of all 50 states--blimey! Europe has countries I've barely even heard of: Latvia! My "Europe Geography" score, a mere 83 out of 144. Makes the first score seem a lot more attractive.

OK well, I'll take "US state capitals" for 100, Bob!

Here we go: http://www.lizardpoint.com/fun/geoquiz/usacapquiz.html

124 out of 150--mind you, it was a small map, with no names on it--you had to guess which state was which on your own. It was those blasted southern states that tripped me up..and Iowa. I'm sorry to say, I have no idea where the hell Iowa is, on a map.

Tougher quiz--again, no place names on the map.

OK, I'll take "Canadian capitals" for 200, Bob!

30 out of 39.

Now I'll take European capitals for 500, Bob!

Jeez! That's a tiny map! And--it is asking about Eastern Europe capitals--I've never even heard of half of these, blimey! Chisinau! Sounds like a sneeze! Where the hell is that supposed to be?!?

Forget it, I lose, just give me the lovely parting gifts and boot me off the stage, Bob.

Well, I'm starting to like the sound of the place where I'm moving to.

Horse shows, Shakespeare in the park--SHAKESPEARE! book shops and a library, art galleries, festivals, a Dunkin' Donuts and bakeries, and, a cafe that fresh roasts it's own blends of coffee right on the premises--I love the smell of roasting coffee. There's a cinema, restaurants, boutiques, consignment shop, lectures..oh, and there's walking paths, and a lake not too far away, with a swimming beach.

Maybe this is going to be pretty OK, I think.

I used to have a garden, when I was a teenager. Not very big, only enough to grow some pole beans, Boston (leaf) lettuce, onions, tomatoes, and sometimes a few cucumbers.

Mainly, I suppose it was a "salad" garden. I used to enjoy going out there in the cool parts of the day--sunrise and sunset, digging and weeding. It was a quiet moment, just to myself, no one around but my dogs, whom would lay there and watch me.

I have one strong memory, of my time in the garden. One night, in spring, I'd just tilled the earth for the first time, after a long winter, in preperation for planting. It was sunset, and a gorgeous one.

There was a grove of old Eastern White Pines bordering our back yard. Their tall, black, rough trunks and fine bushy boughs, filtering out my direct view of the setting sun in the west...yet my view across the valley, on the other side of the Hudson River, to the hills opposite me--the eastern sky, was largely unobstructed.

As the sun set, bands of red and purple painted the sky, against a backdrop of budding trees and cheerful bird song.

The smell of the fresh earth that my spade had turned, mixed with that of last year's leaves, and blossoms on the nearby trees. They enticed my soul with their intoxicating natural perfume; like a combination of musk and roses.

At sundown, the dark-winged, ginger-breasted American robins, slowly ceased their merry song, and began chirruping, in a contented fashion.

Shadows from the two large hackberry trees on our front lawn, would be slowly creeping eastward, towards the street. The pine grove up the wee hill behind our back lawn, casting solemn shades in the dying light of day. Slowly it would merge with the shadows of the night, as if predicting the darkness that was to come.

The sky's brilliant palate of colours changed slowly, inexoribly, to softer pastels, and, as I sat there watching, it would slowly fade, like the beauty of an aging film star, to a dim afterglow, a mere shade of its former glory.

Then night would wander on to the stage, the velvet black and the diamond stars, a counterpoint to the glory of the sunset.

The sight of the setting sun was gone forever, except in my mind and heart, my spirit and soul...for the soft warm glow of the contentment I felt at that moment, the lovely natural portrait it left me with that late spring night, has stayed in my heart, forever.

Busy day ahead. The spoiled brat hasn't been around the blog lately, his mum must be home or something. I still maintain the child has a crush on me, heh-heh. What is it about me that attacts funky boys? Meh--truthfully, I'm getting bored with picking on the brat, and, I have real things to do now; like getting the flat ship shape!

I need to make sure everything is ship shape in Bristol fashion, so the landlord can show it in a few weeks. Not much to do, really, but my injury has caused me to neglect a few chores, and they seriously need doing. Like mopping. I'm gonna' give that a go, later today.

Hoovering isn't so bad--I can sit on a chair, or even on the floor, and do that, as I have a canister vac, not an upright one. Takes a wee longer to hoover with one of those, but it does a better job of picking up the pet hair and what not.

It's overcast and somewhat chilly, today. Loads of cars parked on the kerbs--must be either a street closed off somewhere, or maybe a special service at the church or synagouge in my neighbourhood. I have to go have some breakfast, for a change. I only ate one meal yesterday, so I'm just a bit famished, this morning!

Have a good Monday all (except abusers, conservatives and fit people who park in handicapped spots).

Oh no! A fellow Whovian I sort of know on the internet, sent me an e-mail, only saying: "cool! Take a look at this"

I open it--and it's a massive Dr Who Last of the Time Lords spoiler!

I'm so upset by this, I almost feel like crying. I feel like someone's spoiled my big Christmas surprise.

NO, I'm not going to post it, so, pardon my French, but--piss off.

She claims it's from a leaked script.

I'm going to pretend that it's all BS, that some fan made up and spread around the net.

It's not fair!

I've been studiously avoiding almost all references to the upcoming specials, cos' I love nice surprises--haven't had enough of those in my life time, and can never get enough of them, quite frankly.

Well, all I can do is try and pretend I never read it--I didn't actually read the whole e-mail, as soon as I sussed what it was really all about.

What is it with mean, thoughtless people these days???

I keep telling every Whovian I know, NOT to talk spoilers around me--yet, get ignored by some of them--they just can't keep their mouth's shut. It's an ego thing, I suppose: "I know something you don't know!" Good for you, now sod off. Sheesh.

I'm one very unhappy Whovian, tonight.

Each leaf, every blade of grass, every flower pedal, each rain drop, and every bird song, are as individual and unique as you or me. As changing as the clouds in the sky, as the wind. As transitional and fleeting as a snowflake on a sunny spring day, or the morning frosts of early autumn.

Yet, when we hold these things we see, and smell and hear--when we see them with the eyes of an artist or the mind of the poet, when we open our hearts to the mundane nature all around us, it becomes a part of us, merging with our souls. These things then become as lasting to us, as the ever-present sky above our heads, or the ground beneath our feet.

Just posted some pics of my new place to a few select friends...not everyone, just a few. Don't take it personally if it wasn't you, there's nothing much to see, anyway.

I've been cleaning out, filled three boxes already, of stuff I won't be taking with me...doing a yard sale, first or second week of October, weather permitting. Anything not sold will be either given away or taken with me.

For my British friends, anyone, living pretty much anywhere, in most states, can put a bunch of their unwanted stuff in their front yard, garage, porch, drive, house, barn, whatever, and sell it. It goes by many names: yard sale, tag sale, lawn sale, garage sale, moving sale, estate sale, porch sale, etc.

Many towns have a special day set aside, for a "town-wide garage sale." This brings in loads of people into the town--a boon for merchants and restaurants, as residents all over town put out their trash and treasures to be sold or bartered for, or given away.

It's most commonly known as a "garage sale," and there's a special heading in most classified sections of the local papers, just for these types of listings.

Well, I don't have a garage, and our porch is too small for a sale to be held on it, so I'm having a "yard sale." It not only gets rid of things in an environmentally sound way, it also helps householders bring in some extra cash--provided they price their items within reason.

I've been to some sales---usually in those newer, marginally posh, suburban estates, where the used items on offer were unrealistically priced at almost retail/new cost...and of course, most browsers werent' buying...and the couples who were selling were bored--or even sometimes a little cross-- cos' they weren't getting any business.

But then, sometimes you hit a sale with some really cool stuff--or one with stuff you really do need, or one that's unbelievably cheap--or a combination thereof, and that makes it all worthwhile.

I've gotten furniture, books, nice clothing, kitchen items, sporting goods--even horse tack--at garage sales. One year, I got a practically brand new Carhardtt winter denim jacket--for just $5! That's a $75 jacket, for just $5.

A while back, I came home from a local garage sale, with a free VHS tape of one of my favourite TV shows as a teenager--The Streets of San Francisco. It's a police drama about two detective-inspectors, which starred old-time film actor (and American Express spokesman) Karl Malden, and a young actor you may have heard of before, named Michael Douglas. God, he was cute when he was young! I had mild crush on him...I think all the girls at school did, even my sister. It was a really groovy programme. I watched it regularly, even when I was in college, nearly every girl in our dorm, back in 1979/80, would drop everything to watch the old re-runs of the show, on tele.

There was a big garage sale down the street yesterday--some beautiful new-looking sofas, cabinets, clothing, electronics, odds and ends. I passed it on my walk and stopped to look...reasonably priced, most of the stuff. A like-new cream-coloured Victorian style sofa was on offer for $200--a sofa that very likely cost almost $1000 (or more), new, I reckon.

They had a working washer and dryer for $50 each...so, someone on a super-tight budget, setting up house for the first time, or downsizing or upsizing, can really find some bargains, if they're not too uppity about the source of their new furnishings.

so yeah, so far, I've packed 3 3/4 boxes full of bric-a-brac, a box of books, and a box of used clothing. I'm on my way. I'm selling my phonograph, so have to go through the lp record albums, next.

I rang up my sister to tell her I would be changing address soon.

Am going to notify those of you whom are my "real-life" friends--privately, of my new address as I get it. I know the street address, but not the apt. number. Heck, other than four photos taken on a camera phone, I've not even seen the apartment!

I won't even be going there, until MAYBE mid-October.

Anyway, my sister wasn't home, she's working again. Good for her! I'm sure part of her missed working. She's usually been fortunate to like most of her jobs, over the years.

My redneck neatherthal ultra-conservative republican future brother-in-law, isn't working. He's down with my same issue--bad back. So, sis has to take up the budgetary slack. He works for a foreign car company, and says the production line has been speed up too much for him to keep up with it.

In a recession, big business gets away with a lot of crap on the premise that it needs to keep from going under, and it's often very hard on the employees....big business not getting their snouts out of the trough often enough, to ken that happy employees eventually trickles down, to make for happy customers.

My sister's partner wouldn't let her work, before. He's the one that gave her a boob job for her birthday, one year--he insisted. She was in a lot of pain, from that.

Her partner built their home himself, on top of a Vermont mountain, near the Green Mountain National Forest, in the dead of winter...living in a big tent, with five dogs and two wood stoves. This is the guy that thinks that lying, hate-vomiting, republican racist Rush Limbaugh, radio talk show host and all-around American poo, is the new Moses. Oh, and my future brother-in-law, won't go anywhere without his gun. He doesn't like to cross the border into my state--so he told me once, because he's not allowed by New York state law to take his gun with him across the border, without a NY state pistol permit--or some such palaver.

Yeah, my future brother-in-law has a target range on the mountainside next to his home, and shoots at targets from his kitchen window.

Yes, he wears flannel shirts, and has bear and moose and deer wandering around his front and back lawn.

So, anyway, big move coming up...so, so very much to do!

I'm going to bed early tonight, by 10pm. I caught a chill this afternoon, when I was outside. It's not really cold--right now at 9.30 pm it's 12 C--54 F degrees. Not cold at all, by our standards here.

Yet, there's a biting, blustery raw wind, that cuts right to your soul, like a shard of ice--a winter wind in late Sept., and the apartment got down to the low 60's F today, and somehow I just started shivering and couldn't stop. So, I bit the bullet and turned on the heat--I'll turn it down in a few minutes, before I hop into bed.

Jeez, I used to snowshoe with just a heavy jumper and down vest on, when it was 10 F outside, and be quite comfy. Now it's 54 F, and I'm shivering! Don't tell me I'm not getting old!

Well...MAYBE I've got myself new flat.

It's not a whole lot different than what I've got now--only a bit less mangy, and it has a proper bathtub, and there's actually a counter next to the sink...and a laundry facility for tenants, downstairs. The apartment is all cable ready, has a new fridge, and all I'd need to do is move in.

It's very, very tiny, and the lounge looks like maybe you could just about fit a small sofa, chair, tele and my small computer desk in there, maybe an end table for a lamp, and that would be about it. Heaven knows where the hell I'm going to put all my books/bookshelves.

The bedroom is about the same: tiny. Looks like about the size of the one I have now, so I'll just about be able to fit my small twin bed, night stand and dresser in there.

It's laid out kind of wonky, sort of like this place I'm in, but--the bedroom is seperate, so while you do have to walk thru the kitchen to get to the lounge, you don't have to also walk through my bedroom, to get to the lounge, as you do here--and the bedroom and bathroom doors both actually close!

But, it'll be cramped, I'm sure. All hardwood floors, so a broom and some lemony smelling Murphy's Oil Soap would mean less hoovering on my part. Hoo-ray for my back, ha-ha.

It's a couple of streets away from a main road with loads of shops, I'm told, and there a bus line there, as well as taxi's. The approx. $450 rent includes everything (except pet deposit, that's why I say "approximate" cos they might tack an extra charge on to the rent)--no more lying awake at night worrying about heat and lights being shut off!

It's a transitional place--not forever, just for a year or however long it takes, until I can get my sea legs back under me, and look for a bit posher place, hopefully.

Nothing set in stone yet. I'm told the landlord didn't seem bothered by three cats, which is good. But...there was another person looking, so we'll see. My last month's rent is pre-paid, so I would have my whole SSD check to help with the move--in Oct., if this comes together.

The area is so-so...bit chavvy, but, so is most of Glens Falls, so that's no difference, then.

One of my favourite really mellow tunes is "Air," by this band. Unfortunately, that song isn't availbable on Youtube. But, here's one of their othter tunes.

When visiting the United States, you may not want to miss these charming local and national museums:

The Bathroom Fixtures Museum, Wocester, Massachusetts

Asphalt Museum, Rohnert Park, Calif.

Slate Museum, Granville, New York

Sandpaper museum, Two Harbours, Minnesota

Klu Klux Klan & Redneck Museum, Laurens, South Carolina

Pretzel Museum, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

SPAM (the tinned food) museum, Austin, Minnesota

Mustard museum, Mount Horeb, Wisconson

Sewing machine museum, Arlington, Texas

Snowmobile museum, Sayner, Wisconson

Banana museum, Aurburn, Washington state.

Superman museum, Metropolis, Illinois

Telephone musuem, Leslie, Georgia

Vacuum cleaner museum, North Canton, Ohio

Surfing museum, Santa Cruz, Calif.

Voodoo museum, New Orleans, Lousianna

Whiskey museum, Bardstown, Kentucky

Bad art museum, Dedham, Massachusetts

Exotic dancing museum, Helendale, Calif.

Old West brothel museum, Virginia City, Nevada

National museum of funerals, Houston, Texas

Hobo museum, Britt, Iowa

The museum of questionable medical devices, St. Paul, Minnesota

Pest (roaches, ants, spiters, mice, rats, etc) museum, Decatur, Alabama

The Trash (rubbish) museum, Hartfod, Conn.

National (antique) Bottle museum, Ballston Spa, New York

Museum of Jurrassic Technology, Alabama--you can see a dogstronaut suit (dog's space suit)

The Creation Museum, Petersburg, Kentucky

The Mt. Blanco Fossil Museum, crosbyton, Texas...“Q. Do you think Noah took dinosaurs on the ark? A. Absolutely. We can show you why.”

Salt and pepper shaker museum, Gatlinburg, Tennessee

The hair museum, Independece, Missouri

Cartoon museum, Hague, New York

Money museum, Kansas City, Missouri

Lunchbox museum, Columbus, Georgia

Salem witch museum, Salem, Massachusetts

International spy museum, Washington, D.C.

My National Grid bill is due on Sunday. The bill is $213.00. My total worth as of this moment, is exactly $2.28.

That bill is not going to get paid...which means, blog pals, that unless the county helps me, or a genuine miracle (and I don't believe in that rubbish) happens, I'm probably not going to have any electricity or gas, by the time my birthday rolls round.

I say that, as the Sept. bill will be 30 days overdue, by that time, and my $213 monthly budget plan will be cancelled, and in it's place I'll get a bill for about 200 or 300 dollars more than my total monthly income.

Meh--I've not really bothered with my birthday in years...birthdays and holidays become rather pointless when you are alone. Still, sitting in the dark and cold on that day, isn't how I envisioned the start of my 49th year on the planet.

Yeah, I do have my down days, sometimes.

I've been toying with putting Flame to sleep, to make it easier to find a flat. The two boys are slightly older than her, and neutered.

Flame isn't spayed, and can do her share of caterwauling when she's in heat. So, I thought about putting her down, even looked into the cost, yesterday.

Today, she lay in my lap for much of the afternoon, looking lovingly up into my face....it's like she KNEW. I can't handle the hurt and guilt of putting her down. I can't afford spaying, it's hugely expensive here...I don't have her shots record any more, and the vets all insist on shots. The spaying is costly enough, it's the shots--and the 15 to 20 dollars for a cab there, and back, as well.

I don't know. Some days I get so discouraged, I could just lay down and die, and be happy about it, the world weighs so heavy on me some days, that I'd do just about anything to get it the hell off of my shoulders.

The pain med and nap chased that pain right away. I live in a country that lets 10 year old children die of dental abscesses, so I have to just treat myself and hope for the best.

Making some breaded chicken nuggets (with BBQ dipping sauce), homemade coleslaw and fries (chips), for my dinner. Nothing posh, but meh, it's good enough.

Think I may have found a place--it's in a quiet semi-surburban neighbourhood, and fits my budget plan. I won't say yet if it's local or elsewhere. I've been looking in six or seven different towns, in two different parts of this state. Even looked a a couple in Vermont.

It's around 450 a month, with utilities incl., near a bus stop. It has no laundry facilities though, which is a bit of a drag. That's one of the headaches of where I live now, it's not very near a laundromat--a good 15 minute bike ride away is the nearest one--and then I can only pack one load...the others have to be got to by cab, most of the year, and that really brings up cost--about $20 a visit, twice a month, with cab fare thrown in.

I also have a lead on a three-floor flat--bit more pricey but still within my budget...that one has a laundry facility, and would be almost like having my own house.

And, there's a gent who says he may have a cabin (cottage) for rent--but it's only until the end of June, that also falls within my criteria.

So, things are looking up, sort of...even if I do feel down, some days.

jeff surlak (Visitor)
25/09/2009 @ 05:58:02 pm
maybe your jaw will fall out so you can't spew so much hate

My head hurts pretty bad--that jaw infection I can't afford treatment for. Maybe someday I will live somewhere, where I CAN afford treatment for illness and pain--but not while I live in Warren County, NY USA.

It's a beautful night--wish I owned a camera.

We're in shadow here, but just to the south, the sun is brightly shining on the tall needle-like spire of the Presbyterian church, fronting it, is that lovely, ancient bright ornage-red full maple tree, a towering spruce tree..and above, a baby blue sky, with a barely visible half-moon, hanging high over the church spire.

It's a deliciously lovely early autumn evening, here.

Question:

What does watching Darren Brown and Watching Big Brother, have in common?

Nothing. Both viewers will walk away entertained--and about as clueless as ever they were.

One of the mantras--since the fall of George W. Bush and the decline of their party's power--of America's paranoid conservative voters, is the elimination of the powers of the federal government.

Like their Federalist counterparts in the early 1800's, prior to the War of 1812, these new federalilsts--calling themselves republicans now, advocate state's rights over the Untied State's Constitution....the very foundation of democracy and freedom in America.

The anti-federal paranoia refers to guns, taxes, religion, education and healthcare.

In Kentucky, a census worker was just out doing his job. He was a friendly, kindly-looking white, middle aged census worker. A substitute teacher, supplementing his income by working for the census bureau part-time.

His body was found in an isolated old family cemetery, hanging from a tree--with the word "FED" scrawled across his chest, in black felt-tip marker.

All the anti-liberal, anti-govt. talk show hosts and commentators, the hate-mongers, liars and propaganda vomiters, whose only goal in life is to prey on their listener's fears and hate...well, they have reaped their reward now.

America is becoming it's own terrorist state--only instead of victimizing foreigners, they are hating and butchering their own innocent people.

Southern law enforcment officials haven't ruled out accidental death or suicide. WTF????

Oh yeah, he climbed a tree in a deserted cemetery and accidentally hanged himself? Or, he wrote "fed" in felt-tip marker on his chest before killing himself--without leaving a note? Riiight.

Locals seemed more concerned about the publicity of "one isolated incident," then the death of a man, one resident described as "God-fearing."

Coninuing on with my theme of, sometimes, little things meaning a lot, while on holday, I have another memory:

I Wuz here:

About three days into the trip, our little group had just come from an exhausting exploration of an early pyramid in Meidum--a real mammoth of a place, and some had opted to explore a tiny pyramid of the Queen, which rested next to the giant King's--or Pharoah's, tomb.

I was quite tired, and my bad knee was plauging me, so I opted not to crawl my 230 pound body into a dark tomb, with a light strapped to my forehead, on my hands and knees--not cos' I was claustrophobic--I'm not actually. I just decided my kneecaps were more important than my curiosity, at that point.

I walked a ways off from the rest of the group, and looking around on the sand, to make sure there were no artifacts--or scorpians--lying about, I sat down for a breather.

A freshening zephyr blew up from the water far in the distance. Sitting on the soft, shifting sands, was for me, the most relaxing part of the day...possibly the entire trip. The desert wind played a soft tune, as it spun an errant piece of paper in a waltz over the sand.

Sitting on the hill, or dune, looking down towards the valley, was an amazing sight for someone born and raised in northeastern New York state; in an invisible line, the tedious tan wave-like dunes abruptly ceased, and became a belt of green and verdant farmland. It was much like the never-ending blue-green of the ocean, meeting the barrier of solid land.

Outside a dull russet-coloured home made of mud-brick, a multi-hued procession of assorted clothing waved at me from a clothesline. Like signal flags on a tall sailing ship.

A white goat tethered near a lush emerald coloured alfalfa field, bleated forlornly, counter-acted in his bleating, by the proud crowing of a rooster, which was hidden from my sight.

Rows of date palms swayed their fronds majestically up and down in the freshening breeze. To the drowsy traveller, the quiet interludewas like being given a tall glass of ice-cold water, on a close and humid summer day. Yet, it was not summer, but winter. And I recall chuckling to myself, as I knew that back home, it was about minus 20 C and snowing.

My attention was snatched back to the present, as, driftng on the pleasent wind, from a tannoy somewhere, the Mullah at the local mosque, began singing the faithful to their daily prayers, his reverant and undullating voice, perhaps singing, "There is no God but God, Mohamed is his Prophet, in the name of God, the most gracious, the most merciful, come and pray."

For me, it was like a lullaby, a blessing for an afternoon dozing in the timeless sands of Egypt.

View from the opposite direction, from where I was sitting:

http://www.cse.unsw.edu.au/~rkwok/photos/2004_Egypt/Pyramid_Meidum01.jpg

Wow, I guess the cyberdweeb--this time pretending he's "Larry Gamble," didn't like my answer to his question, yesterday! (He commented on my blog, as "visitor," pretending again, poor delusional babe).

Anyway, he spammed all my blogs--this one and Roasting david, about fifty million times, under all his little aliases he's used for the past months--this time saying he was "Larry gamble"--and 50 million other people, in a massive five-year old temper tantrum.

Did you kick and scream too, cyberdweeb? Waaaah! Ha-ha, I wish I could have seen your face!

Everything he accuses me of being--he actually is. Again, I studied this stuff in college, and it's all textbook--the abuser blaming the victim, the sociopath changing identity, lying pathologically, no grasp of what constitutes "normal" human behaviour, no sense of right and wrong...it's all right there, in any text book, or on the internet, plain as day.

But--he keeps saying I'm angry and upset---I was, but now I'm not. I'm just...amused. I made him mad--I WANT to make him mad. I WANT to upset him, I WANT him, his parents and the rest of cyberspace, to see him as the ugly, cowardly, slovenly, abnormal, petty little human being he truly is--and, it's obviously working!

Actually, judging by the child's little spamming tantrum, it's working exceptionally well---the victim is ticking off the abuser! Oh, the power I have over this dweeb! It's delicous!

Personally, I think he has a hidden crush on me, the way he keeps coming back, again and again.

Of course, I'd tell him to piss off, I'd only date intelligent life forms, ha-ha.

Rather than sleeping, this child spent the ENTIRE night last night, spamming my blogs. Oh, his mum must be sooo-proud! "My son plays baseball and collects rocks. What does your son do in his spare time?" "Oh, my little Larry/Jeff/Adam whatever, he's a spammer and stalks disabled women!"

Hi back, shithead!

Doctor's office called while I was eating lunch--leftovers x 3....stew, soup, soup.

Seems one of my tests to see what the hell is going on with my back/legs (no feeling in my right hip/abdomen area, and left foot), may have to be done 50 miles away in the captial city. She's trying to find someone closer--but if she can't, that means I--and the doctor's office, have to jump through all the little governmental paperwork hoops, just to get me transport down there. Ugh--whomever thinks anyone wants to be poor and disabled both, derserves, with all due respect, to be called an idiot.

It's an odd day, here---one moment the sky is covered with ominous grey clouds, the next it's sunny with few clouds. Chilly, though. Back to autumn---the maple tree on the corner is almost devoid of it's gold leaves already--while other trees have yet to even change colour, yet!

When I visited Egypt with my college group five or six years ago, I saw many amazing and awe-inspiring wonders, and got to do things, I never dreamed I would actally ever do.

Yet, sometimes, the little things stand out in your mind, more than the big one's.

We were visiting one of the early pyramids, from around 2589 B.C.. It was early in the day, ours was the first group in, about 9 in the morning. But, later other groups arrived, including a group of Egyptian children, on a school outing.

I suppose to them, an outing to a pyramid, was much like an outing to a historic Colonial-American era home, would have been to me, as a child.

As we came down from about mid-way up the pyramid, back to the base of the colossus, our group of Americans was greeted by the children with a cheerful chorus.

The animated youngsters crowed around us; pleading to have their photos taken, and asking eager questions: "Are you an American?" "Where are you from?" "My name is Mohamed, what is your name?"

Brown faces brightly glowed with innocence and joy. The cluster of boys in khaki's and sweatshirts, and girl's in gaily coloured long tunics and trousers--some wearing head scarves, all proudly showed off their English-speaking skills to us charmed tourists.

A gritty, tough looking security guard, dressed in a black military style jumper and trousers, with a matching beret on his head, looms up from nowhere, and sternly waves the children away from us tourists.

Later, I spied the surly looking mustached guard, crouching near a ten year old boy, smiling and tousling his hair with his hand. He shows his machine gun to the curious boy, and lets the child try on his beret.

A beautiful day has dawned in my northern NY city.

It's cold tho'---Tuesday it was 80 F, Last night it got down to 29 F. Strange weather!

Tonight's the big mass launch of over 100 hot air balloons at the municipal airport. It's free, but I only have around $2 to my name, until the first weekend of October, so I can't afford the bus fare to get there.

I may have a lead on a nice apartment--pets allowed, everything incl. in the rent, but your phone/cable/internet. A lovely little flat in a fairly decent part of the city. I am waiting to see if it's still available, and how much the security deposit will be, and when I will be able to move into it.

Flame is sitting in a beam of sunlight, looking at Charlie--who is also sleeping in the sunbeam--with her tongue sticking out at him. It looks hilarious, and made me larf!

Flame hates Charlie! Sometimes he'll just be sitting there, minding his own beeswax, and Flame will walk up to him, and bat him on the head with her paw, for no apparent reason. Then Charlie walks away, giving tiny little hurt-sounding mewls..even tho' he's fine.

Kids, what can you do with them?

So, I'm stuck in my flat until the first weekend of Oct....and I mean stuck, in the sense tht I can't take a bus or cab, and go anywhere. Or ride my bike--tho' I felt fairly well and good yesterday, about an hour after riding my bike to the park and back, I REALLY started to hurt!

So, after my dinner of homemade soup and bread (watered down leftover stew, with some stuff added to it), I took a hot shower and some pain pills, and went to bed around half-past nine in the evening.

Guess the pain pills knocked me out, cos' I didn't wake again until half-past nine this morning! Blimey! I'm getting to be an old slugabed!

Unless I can come up with something, the cats will be without tinned food for a couple of days, next week. I've got loads of dry cat food, so they won't starve, not by any means!

But, they're spoiled, and expect that their tinned sliced chicken in gravy will be served promptly to them, morning and evening. I suspect when it doesn't appear for a few days, they'll be quite put out with me.

Well, I've some more boxes to get through--have a loose box of old photos that wants sorting.

Cheers.

I was nearly finished with a post a while ago, when there was an abrupt power outage in the city. No idea why. Didn't last that long--thankfully, nothing thawed in the freezer, at any rate.

The balloon launch in the park was a bit dull--only half the balloons actually inflated, and the band was a bit rubbish. Basically, it was about as exciting as a dentist's office decor.

Didn't go down to the fireworks, they're just going off now, probably those shooting ground thingys, by the sound of it. It's off about 10 min. late, which is pretty typical for events in this little burg.

Made some soup out of last night's stew, with a bit of bread and butter to supplement it. Now, it's not even 9.00pm here, and I'm ready for bed! Jeez--I AM getting old! My bike ride to the park did my back in a bit--just when I think I'm getting better, it likes to remind me that it's not healing quite as fast as I assume it is.

Whoa!!! They just fired off a massive salvo, a bunch of bangs all at once. It can't be the finale already? That sounded weird. Sorry I'm missing it, but, meh--it's not like I've not seen fireworks before. I've been going to fireworks displays since I was a wee girl of about 6 or 7 years old.

Well, off for a night of watching Dr Who and a film, Send Me No Flowers.

Cheers!

Once again boys and girls: if it sounds too good to be true, it's a blinking SCAM!

I got this SAME E-MAIL, regarding a "house for rent" for TWO DIFFERENT CITIES, 150 MILES APART!

It was worded exactly the same, only the city names were different.

Hi,

I just took note of your post on Craigs List. Did you still need a house to stay in (omitted for blog purposes)? I have a nice 2 story house that is vacant and furnished. It's a roomy 3,600 SQ FT with 4 bedrooms. It's enclosed in a nice and quiet neighborhood.

If you like the place, I am just leasing for for $500 all bills paid. Reason is I will be staying there for a couple days every month. And it is just been sitting there for a couple of months already, so I'd like someone to just move in asap. If you would like to see pics of the house, let me know.

This e-mail was from two different people. The first e-mail seemed like it might be a scam, now this one proves it most certainly is!

I'm off, all.

Off to the opening ceremonies of the annual hot air balloon festival....one end of the city has a launch of a dozen balloons and a free concert, the city center is having a street festival, free entertainment and fireworks at 8.30pm.

And, it's all FREE!!!

Cheers!

Ugh! I hate going for these eye tests! To me, it's a bit like going for a root canal, cos it kind of hurts, and it's very long and tedious. It can take 2 or even 3 hours, to do all the tests. And, I'm light-sensative, so having some super-bright lights being shown in my eyes on and off for a couple of hours...not a lot of giggles.

But, gotta' do what you gotta' do, ey?

Off to grab some breaky before I change into my posher duds. No casual attire today. I saved one last pair of clean (designer) jeans for the occasion. After today, I have to go 10 days roughly, before I can see the inside of a laundromat again--10 days with no clean jeans. Yikes. Good thing I don't have a life, ha-ha!

I'd wash my jeans in the sink, but this time of year, hanging off the balcony rail, it'd take days for them to dry. And, in this city, they'd probably absorb the city odours, and come out smelling like some sweaty jock's socks and pants.

This child from Texas is sooooo-obsessed with me.

I know he is not in control of himself, poor thing. Obsessed people and the severely mentally ill, rarely are.

Well, the educational system down there is the worst in the country, and mental health care is non-existant--I mean, the mass cult suicide at Waco...the dragging of black men behind trucks...George W. Bush...need I say more? Is it any wonder that this kid has totally flipped?

Well...here's the latest "comment" from jeff surlak, porkerswinebuckle, farmer brown, blacman, adam from Texas, deputy dawg, or whatever his sociopathic mind has decided he will call himself today ("Visitor?" What? Did he run out of ideas already?)

Visitor (Visitor)
24/09/2009 @ 12:18:12 am
If you don't care about the comments, why do you devote half your blog space talking about them and making posts filled with things far beyond anything found in the comments in terms of offensive language and suggestion?

I'm off to bed. Quiet night. Thunderstorms, that mostly went around us--didn't even rain here. It was a heavy, close humid day. Hopefully, autumn will be back with us, tomorrow.

I won't be around much tomorrow. If all goes as planned, the taxi will be picking me up to take me to the surgeons to check on my eyes, make sure the scarring hasn't advanced, and stuff like that. Routine, but quite uncomfortable, and I won't be able to see well for about 4 to 6 hours, after, so I won't be able to read or write until night-time.

Guess I'll spend the time tidying the flat and listening to my Dr Who DVD--I've watched every episode so much, I can practically say the all the lines, ha-ha, and I don't need to watch it to know what's going on.

My back is really sore tonight, and I have to go to bed. Hope you all have a brilliant Thursday--except for cyberstalker, he's a great big fail, and doesn't deserve to have a brilliant anything.

He's baaack--must have been seeing his therapist the last few days. What a maroon, as Bugs Bunny would say of Elmer Fudd.

Haven't read his drivel, but here is his latest comment. He's not Conway Stone, light-of-lights, my dead mother, farmer brown, porkerswinebuckle, Adam in Texas...no, today he's decided that his "personality" is "jeff surlak" again. Gee, what a surprise!

Textbook sociopathic behaviour, folks Or just a teenage dweeb with less of a life then I have?

Who cares? I don't care. I will say he's useful in that he is providing me with a lot of proof that Americans are becoming a mob of crazy, stupid assholes.

___________________________________________________________________________________

New comment on your post #7026087 "US natl. heath care: socialism--or just basic human decency? "
http://oldmaid.blog.co.uk/2009/09/23/us-natl-heath-care-socialism-or-just-basic-human-decency-7026087/comment_ID/11019244/rtc/1/#c11019244

Edit/Delete:
http://www.blog.co.uk/admin/b2browse.php?blog=218770&p=7026087&c=1

*********

Author: jeff surlak (IP: 209.44.123.5, ronaldhost.net)
Email: jeffsurlak223@yahoo.com
Url:

Comment:
Yo playwrite what up in dis crib

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More big corporate BS: Siemen's has these adverts, that claim they've answered the US's tough healthcare question.

Oh yeah Siemens, so how AM I supposed to live, when a trip to hospital for a poss. hearth attack, costs me 3/4 of my fixed yearly income?

These arrogant corporate PR propaganda adverts are so unvelievable! Like the chemical companies who say their plastic makes life better--while those livng near the chem plants die in droves of cancer. General Electric's old advert jingle was, "GE--we bring good things to life!" But, their toxic dumping killed fish and birds by the hundreds, for years.

Companies urge us to drink more bottled water--that it's better for us than that from the tap--which is largely a falsehood, depending on where you live.

Obviously, if your town or city doesn't have good water treatment facilities, or you have a well and live near a farm, factory or chemical plant, bottled water would be safer. Or, if you are in a foreign country where water treatment is questionable or non-existant, of course, you should drink bottled water.

But, think of all those plastic bottles, the chemicals used for them, and the people whom have to live near those plasic plants. Is bottled water really good for THEM?

Never believe a word of propagana--corporate, political or religious.

Just think for yourself, ask questions, search for facts, and make up your mind on what truths you dig up on your own. Never depend on a single source for information, and never let any one group or person, decide for you what you should think.

All these patently ignorant and selfish and paranoid Americans, witholding health care--pills, doctor's, dentists, etc., from more than 45 million of their fellow citizens, for no other reason than they are easily lead like the stupid cattle they are, are no different than those early Americans whom turned their collective backs on the genuine suffering of slaves, or to what amounted to the total genocide of some Native American tribes.

Millions and millions of American citizens, have employers which are not required to provide health insurance. Many millions more cannot afford private health insurance, and still have a place to live. Millions of pensioners, must often choose between buying expensive medicines, or buying food. Parents with a child who has cancer, must sell their homes and possessions, work two or three jobs, have chairity fundraisers, just to provide medical treatment for their child. A working poor person without health insurance, whom contracts a catestrophic illness, can have his or her home taken from them, and end up in a homeless shelter.

All these things I've mentioned have actually happened. They aren't things I made up. They ARE taken from life stories of real Americans.

You want to know how expensive American health care is, when you DON'T have ANY insurance? Or when you have inadequate insurance, or your private big-business provider refuses to pay the bills as it should?

Here's my latest summary from Medicare....this is the ACTUAL COST of these services, without any medical insurance to cover it.

Hospital costs--including tests, medicines, consultations, x-rays, etc (this is from my ER visit and overnight night stay, for heart attack scare in June): $6,532.00

THIS IS WHAT I "MAY BE BILLED"! My monthly income is, at the moment, $816. Do the maths!

For ONE night at the hospital and an ER visit and tests, etc. for a heart attack scare--that turned out to be my jaw infection come back again--I have a bill here, for 6,000 plus! My yearly income is, at present, is just a bit over $9,000 a year

One overnight stay in an American hospital for heart tests, plus an ER Visit, cost about THREE QUARTERS of my presnt yearly income!

My govt. medical insurance paid: NOTHING.

So, the pundants can poo-poo preventative medicine, but WHY should any poor person seek treatment for a possible heart attack, if the govt. won't pay for it, and it will cost them most of their year's income to go to the ER/hospital???

But wait, that's not all!

That DOESN'T include the other costs, incurred that day:

The ambulance for instance. The health centre is five minutes from the hospital. That five minute trip cost: $886.00 (this doesn't include the $561 they charged to take me the 1/2 mile to hospital for my bad back, 19th August.)

Tell me Americans against nationalized medicine, aren't a mob of miserable, stupid, greedy and selfish bastards, now!

Another day in stinky old GF's. It DOES stink, by the way. It's the paper mill on the river, on the south side of the city, just across from our civic center. It makes the air smell like a combination of some jock's wet socks, and the Jolly Green Giant's fart.

Yep, at certain times of the day, in certain atmospheric conditions, Glens Falls is very stinky. And flies, loads of flies. They want to attract posh people by building half-million dollar condos, what they should do is get rid of the flippin' smell!

Some developer converted an old factory across from the local hospital, and backing the city's bar (crackhead) district, into expensive very posh condos, offices and shops, even put in the city's first parking garage. Prices for a condo start around $180,000 I think, and go up to half a mil. They opened for selling in June--no takers yet, last I read. The developer lowered his prices on some of them, and swears he's had interested buyers...(I am so trying not to imagine who would be an idiot enough to buy an expensive condo in that ugly, smelly, daft sort of location--if you've ever been in a street lined with half a dozen pubs close together, on a Friday or Saturday night, you'll know it's quite noisy, as well).

Anyway, the city is kicking out and driving out the poor and working classes, and trying to entice the posh people--in the middle of a recession. Mind you, this has been--and always will be, I think, a working class city. Even if the city succeeds in driving the poorer people out of the city centre, they've nowhere much to go, they'll still be around. Rethuglicans and idiots run this city, and the needs of the REAL people who live here, will never factor into the city's plans.

This is an extremely safe city to live in, very low crime rate, little violent crime, even with the new presence of drug gangs from the capital area and New York City, recently. But--it's also a backwards and empty city--empty in the sense of purpose and grasp of needs. They spent money on trees for the city park, and "green" buses, while their own citizens are literally sometimes going hungry and desperately need jobs. Affordable housing is at a premium in my city, yet the city builds and builds expensive condos---empty souls, building an empty city.

Well, have to go out to the shops. I had to borrow a can opener to feed my cats last night. The only tins of cat food I had left, weren't the kind with the pop-up lids, but the kind you had to open yourself with a tin opener...mine choose to break last night.

Kind of hard to open tins of cat food, or to make yourself a tuna fish or deviled ham sandwich, when you can't open the bleedin' tin!

Heaven knows where the money is coming from. If I can't find a cheap one, I'm just plain screwed. I can't keep borrowing the neighbour's opener!

Ah well, life sucks and then you die. The cats are really giving me reproachful looks--Flamey keeps licking me, that's not a good sign. I better get out and buy them some food I AM able to open for them.

Starting tomorrow, the annual hot air balloon festival (as seen above)

Well, the coach tours are coming into town already, for this weekend's big Adirondack Hot Air Balloon Festival. Hundreds of hot air balloons, in three of four different locations, spread out over the Adirndack mountains--the local municipal airport, Crandall Park which is about a 10 min. walk up the street, the park in Lake George--called "moonglow," where on Saturday night, a few tethered hot air balloons will fire up over the waters of the lake, in the darkness. It's quite pretty, and there's usually fireworks over the lake, afterwards...and all the big tour boats are out on the lake, all lit up, as well.

Sometimes there's a hot air balloon or two, tethered right on the main street in the city centre, or "downtown," as we yanks call it.

The festival starts tomorrow, and runs until Sunday....weather cooperating. Balloons can only go up at dawn and sunset. I have no idea why, never studied meterology, and I was rubbish at science.

Balloonists come from all over the USA and Canada for the event, drawing thousands of spectators.

When mum was alive, on Saturday morning, a little after six am we used to grab breakfast from the local McDonald's drive-thru (mum had a thing for McDonald's coffee) and sit in the Walmart car park---which has a spreading view, you can see to the east for miles...all the way to the Green Mountains of neighbouring Vermont. On a crystal clear day, you can see almost 50 to 100 miles away, from that car park...which gives you a clear view--if not a close up one, of the skies over the local airport. The balloon launch started around half-past six on Saturday morning, so we we'd sit in the car, have our breaky and wait for the show to begin.

We'd sit and watch the balloons rise in the air, one by one, with the rolling hills of pastoral Washington County, NY and the distant mountains of Vermont, as a backdrop. It was lovely! We both enjoyed it, very much. It was the one time of year, neither of us minded getting up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday. Of course, we couldn't stay and see the whole thing, more's the pity, cos' mum had dialysis treatment at 7am.

A FULL LAUNCH AT SUNSET, FROM THE MUNICIPAL AIRPORT:

I was in chat with someone, and another person came in, and the chat turned away from Doctor Who, and to (give me a break) David Tennant. Well, I figured if they were going to start squeeing about how "fit" he was, I was outta' there.

But, they were talking about potential roles he'd be good in.

I suggested he'd make a great Cyrano de Bergerac--ala Jose Ferrar, but they poo-poo'd the idea. I don't think they've ever read the book or seen the old film.

I've seen his er--swordplay, and he's actually quite good. Especially out of the bedroom, with (ahem) a real sword.

Sorry, couldn't resist.

Really tho', I bet he'd be fantastic as Cyrano--or even as one of The Three Musketeers. He certainly can act and fight at the same time, why not?

Well, he'll do what he wants to do, it's his life, and I'm nobody, so what's it matter what I (or anyone else) thinks he should do? Right?

It was just a thought. I'm bored, I have no life.

One of my favourite scenes from the 1950 film:

(Excerpts from my Twitter blog)

Someone on Roasting David Tennant brought up the topic of handcuffs (not what you think, don't be rude!)

It triggered a memory of something I'd long forgotten, that happened in the mid-70's. I was out on one of my usual woodsy rambles with my dogs, when, at the edge of a field, I found a pair of REAL police handcuffs!

In bizzare fashion, there they were, hanging from the branch of a pine tree. Yes, I was a wee nonplused, and got nervous, took them home. I don't think I ran, but I recall being a bit discomforted for a few days.

Well, my "uncle" (my dad's nephew) was the village police chief, & I showed them to him, he confirmed they were quite authentic. There was a tiny bit of rust on them, near the key hole, so they'd been out there a while.

When I showed them to my "uncle," and explained how I found them, he just smirked, then lamely said maybe they were from a prisoner whom may have escaped from the county jail, which was roughly 3 or 4 miles away. I didn't get what the smirk was about back then--I was only about 15 years old--of course, I do now.

So, one day, my sis and her boyfriend found the handcuffs--I was going to dress as a Angie Dickinson for Halloween that year...no, just kidding, I was toying with being a Keystone Cop. Anyway, I'd left them lying about our house somewhere, and my sister found them, and tried them on--locking them.

When she quickly discovered that they weren't about to unlock..and that I couldn't help her, she panicked at me: "You don't have a key?"

"Er--found them in the woods, sis, no key, sorry." (Not really, I was quite amused.)

"Oh." (She wasn't quite amused.)

So, after trying dad's hacksaw to no avail, and passing up on her fey boyfriend's offer to fetch a blowtorch, sis was forced to go down to our tiny police station on the ground floor of Village Hall, and stand around while one of the local law boys unlocked her...bet she got lots of smirks, then, ey?

Sometimes it's good to be the younger sibling.

_____________________________________________________________________________

One of my blog friends was talking about chicken goujons. I can just hear one of the local rednecks..."a chicken did WHAT in the john?"

You gotta' admit, goujons...sounds a bit like something nasty one would find in one of those porta-loos.

"Hey ya'll, someone did a nasty in the porta-thingy, and now it's a regular goo-john!"

I don't particularly like portaloos. But, hey, when ya' hafta'...

I bet when the producers of Dr Who decided on a blue police box in '63, that they never imgagined it would later resemble certain portable toilets.

Anyway, The thing about portaloos, or as we Yanks say, porta-johns, is that blue or white crystaline sanitary cake in the men's urinal. You always come out of the porta-loo with that sanitary cake smell, wafting after you--even if you held your nose in the loo, it lingers.

It follows you, like the ghost of slashes past. Bleurgh!

My neighbour across the hall had to go to the health center this afternoon, so I asked him if I could go along, and he said yes. So, I called them, told them I didn't have the money for a co-pay, but could I still be seen? They said yes. Thankfully, for once they weren't busy.

I've been having migrane-like headaches, and I'm not prone to them at all. I've been blessed, in that I only get bad headaches once every few years, as a general rule.

Turns out my jaw infection has worsened--I have to have an extraction and/or a root canal. Well, I can't, I can't afford a dentist, and even if I could, there's no local dentist that takes my insurance--the only "local" dentist is almost 15 miles away!!! I keep TELLING them that, but they're like...DOH--can't you find someone closer? Unfreakingbeliveable. If I could, don't they think I would????

Well, I told them not to bother giving me a script for antibiotics, cos' I won't have the cash until the 3rd Oct. to pay for it.

They weren't happy--yeah, like I'm happy that I'm too poor to afford medicine and a dentist? Yes, Virginia, Americans are thicker than treacle.

Oh, my tea time meal was lovely, tonight!

I bought a honey-BBQ seasoned quarter chicken from the butchers, and before putting t in the cooker, I drizzled some honey-mustard glaze over it, and baked it for three quarters of an hour.

Then, I nuked some frozen peas with butter sauce in the microwave, and made some mashed tatties , which I slathered with chicken gravy...oooh, lovely. A proper meal...and, I topped it off with some yummy low-sugar vanilla pudding.

Feel like I've just feasted. I'm not thrilled with cooking, been doing it since I was 14 years old, the thrill is gone. But, it's so very nice to be able to cook for myself again--when my back is cooperating--and have a "proper" dinner at night.

This is a great article about the shallow phoney Palin--who professes to be a seriously devout Christian, and her infamous "have dinner with me for charity" e-bay stunt. The opening bid was $25,000.

A man Palin considers a foe, bid $50,000, and palin blocked his bid. So much for the bible and it's values of "turn the other cheek," and "love thy neighbour," and "love thine enemies." (MATTHEW, 5:44) Charity fundrasier--or "look at me, aren't I wonderful" party piece? You be the judge.

Read about it here:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/akmuckraker/palin-foe-frozen-out-of-a_b_292221.html?alacarte=1

I didn't get much sleep last night. After the drunken gits upstairs woke me with their loud party at half past one am on a Tuesday morning, my back pain started again. So...I got even. I just turned up my computer speakers full blast, found a recording online, of Flower of Scotland on the pipes, and gave them both barrels, so to speak.

So, a few minutes later, I heard someone upstairs stumble over or drop something. It was dead quiet up there, so it worked! I am so very evil. Bless the Scots.

A pipe band and a hangover, I hope those drunken (rude word)'s have a really lovely morning.

Yet, then the lovely city of Glens Falls Public Works Dept. decided that 7am would be a perfect time to use their heavy equipment outside. A revving of a huge Caterpiller bucket loader and the backup beeps of a dump truck outside my windows at 7am. Nice to know that the city understands the concept of noise pollution, ey?

I learned how to drive a big bucket loader, bulldozer, dump truck, backhoe, etc. Took a heavy equipment vo-tech course in '91. Never got my certificate, tho'.

The first day of class, we had to learn hand signals & bulldozer operation. That's cos' the second day of class, we all, individually, had to back a bulldozer off a trailer.

Thing is, to back a bulldozer off a heavy equipment trailer, you have to look forward. So you have to depend on some bloke giving you hand signals. So, there I was, 1st time on a bulldozer, backing it off a big trailer--depending on some strange teenager I'd only met the day before, to give me the right hand signals!

I did it though, and no skidmarks in my pants, either. Was I scared...yes, a little. But it felt good, too, afterwards.

I'm reminded of the time in college theater class--back when I weighed some 240 pounds, I had to fall backwards into some skinny teenager's arms. Did that, too..and he dropped me.

So much for a "trust" exercise, heh-heh. Meh, there were mats on the floor, I was fine.

Okaay then.

Just got a message telling me that I "should come out."

Erm--is this an invite to dinner and the cinema? Coffee and a walk? Popcorn and a DVD?

No, this rather pathetically sarcastic person, says I should come out of the closet, and admit I'm gay.

Erm--no.

Trust me, I'm not afraid of any stupid, sexually insecure and culturally backwards homophobes.

If I were gay, I'd be loud and proud about it. I'd shout it from the rooftops--well, maybe not, but...it wouldn't be any secret!

As it is, I'm just...loud...and a 48 year old virgin.

Er--so, I guess that makes me, a loud, proud genuine old maid!

I'm bored tonight, so I was messing about with this. It's totally rubbish, but then--it's meant to be!

ADIRONDACK HAMLET

For our purposes, the name "Hamlet" will be replaced by "Harry" and "Claudius" will be replaced by "Clyde."

SCENE:

HARRY: Maybe greed runs in the family, uncle. (gives a little laugh.) Oh, no. I think a buck and a doe would be just want I want to get in my sights, tomorrow.

Well, the flat hunt was a bit of a bust. Nice flat, but it was 9 streets away from the nearest bus stop...not too big a deal in summer, but in winter, when it's 10 degrees F below zero, and the sidewalks are covered with ice...don't think so. Also, the heat wasn't included in the rent, as I was lead to believe...it used to be, but the landlord has decided that new tenants have to pay their own utilities, like I am here.

The rent there was $575, so that's only $50 less than where I am now--with heat included that was doable, without, no. That would only leave me about $30 a month spending money.

The landlord was nice, the apartment clean and modern--not literally caving in, like the dump I live in, now. But, doing the math, and thinking of my disability, trying to walk 9 blocks on icy pavements...no, just didn't work out. Cab fare was also more costly. My coworker told me it's $8 one way from Fort Edward to Hudson Falls or Glens Falls--or even to the other side of Fort Edward. That's pretty steep, for my budget.

And, there's no supermarkets in that town so I would have to go to Hudson Falls or way out to the Glens Falls suburb of Queensbury, and no laundromat's within walking or bike riding distance. The apartment had laundry hook-ups, but I don't own a washing machine.

So, I was going to make a proper dinner tonight, of a baked chicken leg quarter, with veg and mashed, but I'm settling for a frozen pizza.

I bought this pizza on sale--it's a spinach pizza...made in Germany, with the words "best selling pizza in Italy" on the box. OK, a pizza sold in America, made in Germany, is the #1 brand of frozen pizza in Italy? Wow, sometimes it's hard to wrap your head around the global economy.

This is one pizza that comes with a helluva carbon footprint, ha-ha!

Oh, look, he's changed his ID again, in true sociopathic style! Now he's "farmer brown." Isn't that so twee?

I don't recall making any legal "threats" I don't threaten the mentally disabled, like some American cowards do.

I was just stating a well-known fact...the dweeb is referring to my comment that he--in the guise of "light-of-lights" denied that he was my cyberstalker, and accused famous motivational speaker, Conway Stone, whom I once met at a college conference, of being my blog troll.

I e-mailed Conway about the dweeb's publicly made accusation against him. In my post, I mentioned the legal FACT that now, if Conway chooses, he can track down the teenage sociopath, and sue him for libel. Ask any law student, yes, Conway can do that, if he so chooses.

I didn't say he would, nor did I even imply that he would. That's entirely up to Conway and his lawyers. So...I have no idea where the "threat" lies in all of this. Maybe the nutjob is paranoid as well as having an anti-social disorder, hmm--?

Now, it's interesting to note, that since my libel comment was addressed SOLELY to "light-of-lights," that this "farmer brown" would be upset by a comment made to another blogger.

Also, "farmer brown" says he's "tired" of legal threats. But, I made no legal threats to "light-of-lights" or "farmer brown!" I did make legal threats to Porkerswinebuckle, however.

Oh, you just keep the lies going, you cute little redneck teenage sociopath, and I'll just keep on posting them, for my 500+ reader's amusement. This is fun!

For your amusment, gentle readers, I give you my obsessed cyberstalker's sociopathic comment for today:

New comment on your post #7006367 "I'm baaack. "
http://oldmaid.blog.co.uk/2009/09/20/i-m-baaack-7006367/comment_ID/11000403/rtc/1/#c11000403

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I've a few minutes to kill
So---I'm going to mess about a bit.

"Alas, poor Yorick...he got stuck in the till queue at the Tesco's sale."

Feeling better today, it's a deliciously gorgeous autumn day.

Out to the shopping--out of cat food, heaven forbid!

Then flat hunting later--wish me luck. If I can find a flat that includes heat in the rent costs, and that's under $600 a month, and that will take me and my cats...hoo-ray! No going without heat this winter...and let me tell you, showering without heat when it's minus 20 C outside, is....hell.

Well, have a good day all, thanks for the kind wishes and support.

I've just been informed by a blog pal, that the RSC production of Hamlet--one of Shakespeare's greatest plays of all time, which features David Tennant and Patrick Stewart, will air on one of the BBC channels on 29th December of this year.

There will also be a DVD available, but I'm sorry, I wasn't told the date of its release.

I was clearing out some boxes, in prep to moving, and in a box full of my late mother's genealogy papers, I found some things I didn't even know were there---my late dad's death certificate...that was kind of hard to look at, truth to tell. I don't think I'd ever even read it, before.

And some other family papers, and some of my old school report cards which apparently my mum treasured--including a not-so-old report card, from the local community college in 2002...my first straight "A" report card ever in my whole life. Well, A's and A-minuses, if you want to be a stickler for details. I hadn't realized mum had kept it, until recently. When I compare my old elementary and high school reports to that one...it's a wonder I got through school as a child, at all!

Ah, the difference 20 or 30 or 40 years, makes, when it comes to how you look at schooling.

I found, in the box, a short story I'd apparently written, for English 109--whatever that was, maybe my one and only dive into creative writing, apparently...two weeks to write a short story, the only fiction writing I ever did in college...well, except for my theatre course in playwriting.

I read some of it this morning, before giving it a toss in the bin---wow, it's really awful! It's about a Scottish family during the Jacobite Rebellion. Dang, it's rubbish! The Scottish accents I wrote and all...wow, it's really bad! I possibly may have been inspired by Sir Walter Scott or maybe one of Jane Lane's books about Scotland, or, perhaps from some more obscure dusty old 19th Scottish novel, which I picked up from some used bookseller's. I've long since forgotten.

Here's an excerpt from the last paragraph of the last page I have, mind you, it's a bit graphic--not the usual thing I write:

The aide departed, and the general bent down to pull the sword from Duncan's lifeless body. As he did so, Andrew sprang up from the floor, drawing his broadsword. "Damn you, Wade, and damn the English!" he screamed.

The aide looked down, speechless, at the head of General Wade, grinning up at him from the floor. He opened his mouth to scream for help, but found himself choking on his own blood. Andrew wiped his blade on the dead general's coat, the blood making the red fabirc a deeper scarlet, almost black. Then, sheathing his blade, he escapted through the thatch roof, out into the stormy night.

Pretty darn awful, ey? Now you know why I couldn't ever be a fiction writer, and why I seldom even write Dr Who fan fiction.

I made a new music list over the weekend, out of sheer boredom. It's swing, boogie-woogie, crooners, singing cowboys and lady larks. Something nice to listen to, on a rainy evening.

I was watching Dr Who Turn Left episode again, last night, when I was struck by something.

Now, I'm not saying that Russell T. Davies meant his script to be interrperated the way I am, not at all. It's just my thoughts that occured to me, last night.

Take the title: turn left.

The whole story is about the consequences, when a mundane action--turning left in a car--was reversed, and sets off a whole different chain of events, than what originally happened.

In one part of the story, London and most of that part of England, is blown off the map...bit of a coninuity problem with that, in regards to the 3rd season Christmas special, but I won't dwell on that petty issue, it's not important really.

Thing is, London gone, loads of "refugees"...and at one point, the leaders of England decide to load the "non-English" refugees into the backs of army lorries, and send them into labour camps...at a time when there are no jobs available. An allusion to the Nazi's of course.

Thing is, the BNP and others, pretty much are leaning in that direction: "England for the English."

I don't know how true this is, but I did read where some factions of the BNP want to take away the money and benefits of poor non-native British people.

Just like the republicans over here, wanting "America for the Americans."

Over here, the right wing is holding up health care for 45 million suffering Americans, because they are afraid of illegal aliens getting govt. health care.

The republicans want illegal immigrants to suffer and die..which is not that far from the attitude of the Germans towards the gypisies, is it?

And I wonder, if one or both of our nations turn right instead of left--and willingly and gladly allow millions of men, women and children to suffer hunger and even death...will labour (death) camps be all that far away?

Without taxes, people will die. Without help from their government, people will die. People--just like you, me and your dear old Aunt Martha.

The redneck fuckwit cyberstalker is really obsessed with me today! Now he's got yet another bcuk blog! All for stalking little old me? Gee, maybe I should be flattered!

He has just regisistered on bcuk as 'dear-old-mum", and used my mother's real name as his "real" name.

Well, if we all wanted to see how low a zero could go, I guess we just found out--down into the sewers, ey? What do you lot think, is this the sign of a healthy human brain?

.

Here's how his profile reads:

june go___ female 61 beyond the grave speaks English

Oh how twee. But, he got something wrong.

The thing is, my mother--who took five years to die from kidney failure, was 79 when she died, not 61. She smiled at me on her death bed, knowing she was dying. I had to sign the paper to turn off her life support, and she knew that, and she was trying to help me through it, because my sister had gone home, and I was all alone in intesive care, not a soul in the world that I knew, to be with me...and mum.

When the turned off the machine, I held her cold, bloated hand, and watched her heartrate drop on the monitor, talking to my sister on the phone. The hardest words I've ever had to say in my life--before or since--were, "She's gone."

She was stronger, brave had more heart, spirit and soul--and intellect, than cyberstalker can ever possibly attain. He is an empty hollow shell, not a human being like you or me.

Also, by this latest action, cyberstalker has demonstrated to ALL of us, what a total ZERO he really is. He's sunk to a new low, even for him.

I'm posting this cos' I want my 500 daily readers to see what a scumbag his really is. I think he should apologize, but I fear he is just not man enough for the job.

He obviously doesn't know simple basic right from wrong, like the rest of us. Which means of course, that he's got signs of course that he has an anti-social personality disorder. I am of the strong opinion now, that I am truly dealing with a geniune sociopath:

Antisocial Personality Disorder

Frequently, they are also impulsive, irresponsible and callous, lie repeatedly and use an alias or con others. This disorder has also been called psychopathy, sociopathy or dissocial personality disorder.

Here's cyberstalker's latest comment to me:

New comment on your post #7005583 "The cyberstalker's tale of woe: or, may the farce be with you!"
http://oldmaid.blog.co.uk/2009/09/20/this-mook-really-has-his-cheek-his-story-is-more-7005583/comment_ID/10991244/rtc/1/#c10991244

Edit/Delete:
http://www.blog.co.uk/admin/b2browse.php?blog=218770&p=7005583&c=1

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President Obama and VP Biden are coming to the place where I grew up, to give a speech.

They're giving a talk at the local community college, located on the opposite hill, just a mile or two across the Hudson River, from where I grew up.

Our common (aka elementary) school used to go there every year, to let the dental students practice their tooth cleaning and dental checkup skills. They used to give us these tasty red chewy tablets, that we'd eat, and they'd show us how clean our teeth were--lots of red meant lots of plaque.

That was in the 60's and 70's. In the new millenia, the new color problem on campus, seems to be not red, but black.

Recently, the president has been embroiled--not willingly--in racism discussions. You see, some of the lowest common denominators of American society--aka: "white trash," have been calling Obama's term in office, "afro-socialism." I've personally read where cowardly white trash men have threatened to shoot Obama, or hang him.

A very sorry place America has sunk into, I'm afraid, and I'm not joking when I say I really don't want to be part of this nation of mean, violent, low-brow, intellectually and morally lazy, knuckle-dragging cowards, any longer.

Too many Americans are deliberately choosing the path of least resistance--and that is the low road into the sewer.

Anyway, the president is coming to this college in northeastern New York's Upper Hudson Valley, and will be meeting New York's first black governor, Gov. Patterson.

Thing is, this particular college made national headlines a few years back....for racism.

You see, some white students didn't like having to share their classroom with some black students...so they snuck into the classroom after hours, and left a noose hanging from a window.

Racial slurs were also left around the campus, as well.

So, Obama may want to tap-dance around the race issue, but he's coming face to face with it, in upstate New York, this week.

Author: Light-of-Lights
http://www.blog.co.uk/user/Light-of-Lights

Comment:
I said, follow the link is what I said. It was under the name of the Tin Foil Hat Conservative. Obviously it is unlikely that he is the troll but it was the link used, not by me. Maybe you did it eh?

Your blog.co.uk-team
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I got to thinking about these Christian fundies, who truly believe that some deity made man from clay, like some primary schooler's art project, and that woman came from man's rib.

It's like men are just walking ashtrays and vases, and women should go around covered in BBQ sauce.

I was very upset for the past week, and not myself. Being told abruptly, that I might have some serious complications to my back injury, that may involve me never walking again, didn't exactly put me in a pleasant frame of mind.

To put things into perspective, that's a bit like someone being told they might have cancer or MS or something...and, I don't have anyone here to help me deal with it, emotionally, so yeah, I didn't necessarily take it very well...and then to have an obsessed light-of-lights coming around and pestering me all week, leaving me a steady steam of weird comments..no, I didn't take it well, sorry.

But, I'm better now, Uusally I take only a few hours or days to overcome bad news, but I guess the illness really knocked me down, this time, and it took a lot longer for an "attitude adjustment."

I used to have a therapist, but I can't afford a decent one, and the local one's here in my city are really lame. One fell asleep on me one time. I know I can be boring, but she was getting paid--extremely well, to listen to me, not to nap.

If I fell asleep on the job, you bet your bottom I'd be fired rather swiftly.

I cleaned my room today, and found a huge number of dust bunnies hiding under my bed. If I didn't know better, I'd say they'd begun some kind of breeding programme.

Oooh, I do love a good cup of joe on a crisp autumn day...just had to perk some coffee on the cooker top...it's a chilly autumn day. We had frost last night, and some of the maple trees are aleady a brilliant orange-red. Anyway, This "donut shop blend" I bought is quite good, think I'll get some more, next month.

I'm doing fairly well with the food stamps--of course, some days I'm still not eating very much, so that helps. Sometimes I'm famished, but have no interest in food...which is weird, but true.

Friday and Saturday I made homemade soup--seasoned chicken broth with sliced smoked sausage, shredded cabbage and carrots (a bag of fresh coleslaw mix), and sliced Vidalia (sweet) onion. Had is with some bread and butter, nom-nom!

After it was gone, I felt like Oliver, "Please sir, can I have some more?"

Author: Light-of-Lights
http://www.blog.co.uk/user/Light-of-Lights

Comment:
I beg to differ about whose buttons are being pushed today.
So you know this person. I'll be happy to contact him and tell him this. In fact I'll give him a heads up after I leave this. I said it seemed odd that he would be doing this. Someone, but not me, could be borrowing his information. It seems likely. As far as knowing things about you, you posted this stuff over the past two weeks. I'm not your troll and I was just trying to state that when you flew into a rage. I'm sorry about upsetting you so. I am gone and I will go now and have a chat with Conway to let him know his information is being pirated. But then, you're good friends right?

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You know what? Why should I let some crazy infantile redneck ruin my day?

If this bloke ISN'T my cyberstalker--then WHY has he been reading and leaving messages on my blog all day?

The only way he's going to get me to stop posting his comments, is to swallow a big mouthful of southern redneck shut-the-muck-up.

I'd say this bloke is a bit obsessed with me---ey? Sorry "jeff" If and when I do have sex, it won't be with a big girl's blouse like you.

YOU are coming to me, and I'm not coming to you--Iwhich I guess means, that I am in control, not you.

YOU are following ME, sunshine, I'm not following you. I could care less if you live or die, quite frankly.

Who's "enraged?" I actually am having a very pleasant Sunday afternoon, myself.

As for light-of-lights writing that his is not my troll, but Conway Stone is, meh--then asking me "who told me" that my troll was light-of-lights....erm--obviously my troll did, stupid. And, take it up with him, then. Jees-- You're not even a good liar, redneck boy.

I did send Mr. Stone this chap's comment. And, of course, cos' his accusation was made publicly, he can now, if he so choses, hire someone to track this kid down, and sue him and your family for slander... don't know or care about that. The kid surely just dug himself a helluva a hole when he accused someone I actually have met, this Sunday.

He should just face it, instead of squeeling and spinning more lies out of control. He'been caught out, and should just take it like a man and admit it, the Texas tinkerbell.

Oh, I've decided he's from Texas. Waco mass suicide, dragging black men to their deaths, burning crosses, believng that the universe was actually created by some deity in seven days, and that man was formed of a ball of clay, and never actually evolved like every other species on the planet...oh yeah, gotta' be from Texas, ha-ha.

Anyway, to hell with it. I'm going to let this jerk hang himself--the more he keeps coming back to my blog, the more he shows his emotionally disturbed white trash personality to the world.

Everyone has asked me to stay, so I will. I am playwrite27, hear me roar.

I've been having a nice day. The weather is deliciously wonderful. I cleaned my bedroom, listening to some music, read a bit of Orley Farm, played with the cats, perked some "donut shop blend" coffee on the cooker top, went for a short walk, and just chilled all day.

I'm not enraged, I'm actually in a very good mood, light-of-lights.

The kid who is posing as "light-of-lights," point blank accused "Conway Stone" is my cyberstalker. (see two posts before this one.)

OK, this is the Conway Stone to whom my troll was referring: he is a motivational speaker.

http://www.conwaystone.com/contact.htm

I have contacted him, and sent him the information that light-of-lights has given me, and will let him handle it from there.

This mook really has his cheek. His "story" is more full of holes than a wino's underpants.

1. How does he even know about all of this, if he hasn't been reading my blogs for months?

2. Why would some total stranger go to all the trouble of tracking down someone he doesn't even know?

No, no, no, "Jeff" "porker" or whatever pathological persona you're putting on today.

I'm sure you spent a long time on this little fairy tale, but I TOLD you young man, that I'm not buying your manure any longer.

There is NO WAY any intelligigent adult is going to believe your little fantasises, so PISS OFF.

If you want to continue with this farce, idiot-boy, I suggest that you TAKE IT UP WITH THE PERSON WHO TOLD ME HE WAS YOU. I don't care.

Quit bothering me with your protests of innocence. I don't want to hear it.

I don't want to hear your pathetic tales, little boy, why don't you go clean your room or something, do something acutaly USEFUL with your day?

I will point out that this person is the only one contacting me in regards to stalking, that my cyberstalker gloated that he was "jeff" and "light-of-lights." I would point out that this blogger has no blog posts...and is reading ONLY my blog...what for, if he's not a blog friend and not my cyberstalker.

I will point out that the last two comments by light-of-lights are in amazing detail for someone I DON'T KNOW, and whom should know NOTHING about this whole incident that has been going on for MONTHS.

So, HOW DOES this person---whom has only been a registered bcuk member for a week or two, know all this shit?

He doesn't say, and that's because very likely this person is very obviously emotionally disturbed and a patholocial liar.

Here's what the lying freak wrote this time:

New comment on your post #7004344 "Blog troll on the run"
http://oldmaid.blog.co.uk/2009/09/20/blog-troll-on-the-run-7004344/comment_ID/10988447/rtc/1/#c10988447

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My cyberstalker---is clearly a pathological liar, as he changes his identity, story, every single day, as you or I would (hopefully) change our underpants.

I am posting this, because I want the person mentioned by light-of-lights to know that my cyberstalker is pointing the finger of blame at him, and I know it's NOT him, cos' he has a very distinctive writing "voice," and it's nothing like twee "Jeff's" writing voice.

Of course, Jeffy wouldn't know about stuff like that, as he apparently is too lazy and stupid to value learning, as he spent all day the other day messing about on the computer doing absolutely nothing of lasting value to himself or the world around him.

For instance, on Twitter, he started attacking me as "Porkerswinebuckle." Then, he said he wasn't porker, that he borrowed the moniker from "joy's son," then he said he said he really was Porker--all in pretty much the same day.

Then, he's constantly registering as new bcuk members under various aliases--including admitting to me that that he was "jeff surlak/light-of-lights"...so, am I--or any other mature, intelligent adult--going to believe this bonkers little brat?

Sorry sweetcheeks, not buying any of your conisitantly dull and reptetitive bull manure today.

Cyberdweeb, in my nearly half-century of living, I've learned that most rapists, pedophiles, woman abusers etc, always are in massive denial of the ugly little reality of whom they really are, inside, so don't worry, your denial reaction is consistantly normal for your type, really.

NOTICE TO CYBERSTALKERS: Even tho' I'm not blogging on bcuk for a while, I WILL post any and all troll comments publicly, so EVERYONE can see them, and see you for what you really are. I will post them on here, whenever I choose to read them--no matter where you send them.

However, after I publicly post your coments, I do reserve the right to change your original comments on here, to something more amusing to me.

This is what that excellant liar and coward "jeffy"/aka: light-of-lights, blacman, porkerswinebuckle, lancymolash, etc. says today:

Author: Light-of-Lights
http://www.blog.co.uk/user/Light-of-Lights

apparently his name is Conway stone, he's this right wing christian guy living in PA, but like I said, just follow the link to Wordpress to get to his blog.

I want to thank my blog and real-life friends, for all their concern and support. I deeply appreciate it.

And to the blog trolls, republican nutjobs and rude, bratty DT and Dr Who fans, I send you a prolonged raspberry, and a virtual two-fingered salute.

It's been three years of blogging--I've have the archives on here, if anyone cares to read some "re-runs" ha-ha.

Unlike all the other major blog sites out there, BCUK has a huge security loophole, in regards to protecting user's passwords, so I am out of here, cos' I'm just not well enough to deal with some useless, lazy American teenager that has no comprehension of the words "character" and "courage"..and not a lot of other things, as well.

My heath is sort of having good days and bad days at the moment, but I'm coping as best as I can.

I'm on Twitter as playwrite27, still, sometimes, if you "Tweet" you can ask me to follow you. If you have a diffrent handle on Twitter, send me a PM to let me know it's actually you.

I will not respond to follow requests on Twitter, from anyone I don't know.

As far as bcuk goes, while I will not be blogging, I will come here from time to time, to keep tabs on my blog friends--some of you are my "real life" friends whom I know personally--not just blog pals, so I do want to know what you're up to.

So, after three years, I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks is going on hiatus.

Thaks for the memories my blog friends.

Cheers!

I wasn't going to post anything today, I'm still trying to wrap my head around what the ER told my doctor yesterday.

I'm hoping they're just over-reacting again, like with the big heart attack scare that put me in hospital back in June.

It left me very rattled yesterday--and then "jeff's" repeated attempts to take control of most of my blog passwords, really tired me out.

No, no more blogging for a while, not on here. I truly love my blog pals, but...Who wants to be harraseed some cowardly American fuck up?

___________________________________________________________________________________________

To "Jeff," I just have this to say:

Jeff Surlak, whom has told me he is "light of lights," "porker swinebuckle" etc., etc, has been hounding me for months.

KNOWING I am disabled, that I have been quite ill, and severely stressed.

I just have this to say to him--and to him alone.

You sir, are not a human being in my eyes.

You left humanity behind when you thought it would be jolly fun to pick on a vulnerable person.

The 9/11 terrorist thought it would be jolly fun to fly a plane into a building, as well, I imagine.

You spent the entire day yesterday--OVER FIFTEEN HOURS---trying to change my passwords on Wordpress, Blog.co.uk, and Twitter.

That sir, is not the act of a sane person.

That, sir, is the behivour of a two-legged cowardly turd.

You sir, are not only made of air, you might as well cut your balls off and wear a dress, you big girl's blouse, because no real "man" of courage, strength, fortitude and honor, finds pleasure in hurting a disabled woman.

Pedophiles and rapists and abusers constantly deny that they have done anything wrong. They try to come off as "nice" and "normal.

But, I KNOW you, "Jeffy," for the lying, weak, powerless-feeling scumbag that you are.

You can run from your own horrible reality of what it is inside you, that makes you do these things to me, but all you are doing is reinforcing my knowledge of what your insides are like---you are an ugly, ugly little man, "Jeff."

That is how your behavour over the past weeks and months, has made me see you as. And nothing you can do to me now, nothing you can say, will ever change the fact that I don't think of you as human any more--I know you.

You are a zero. You will never be a hero, you haven't got the guts---you can't even go out and look for a job, or volunteer to help another person. You just don't have it in you--you are empty air, a cardboard facimile of a human being.

__________________________________________________________________________

Don't keep trying to pretend that you did nothing wrong, "Jeff." YOU DID.

What you've been doing to me, is sick. Your very behaviour is nothing short of unhealthy.

The fact that you don't grasp simple basic right from wrong, shows just how empty of character you truly are.

Don't make any more excuses to me. I dont' want to hear it. Dont' try to paint yourself as the innocent party--abusers are massive cowards, and famous for trying to blame the vicim, and I'm not buying that, so forget it. You can lie to yourself all you want, but I--and some of my fellow bloggers, know the truth about you.

Yes, you've been successful in driving me away from bcuk.

You've hurt a disabled woman. Congratulations, I'm sure your mother--if you ever had one-- would be so very proud of your accomplishment, if she knew.

This blog was my main lifeline to the outside world. It's what helped me get through my long days alone, helped me through my pain and suffering--and occasionally, let me share good news and small happineses. You've ruined that...just like the Taliban ruined the lives of those innocent people on 9/11.

Inside, "Jeff," you are no better than the Taliban. The Taliban hates women, too, the Taliban hangs women. I bet you'd like that. You have no soul, no conscious, no..nothing.

When you chose to attack a disabled American, "Jeff," you made a choice. You chose to be an American zero, not a hero. Stick that down your pants and play with it.

____________________________________________________________________

Oh, and the little baby has just sent me a PM, with a NEW username, "Ooompa-loompa" Shouldn't that be "goo-goo, ga-ga?"

God, this kid must really be an embarrassment to his family, with all his little tantrums. He sort of does behave like an autisic kid I used to know, now that I think of it. Only the autistic kid was nice.

No, he will continue to hound me, like the infant he is. A spoiled rotten brat, product of bad parenting, I reckon. Mum and dad don't pay much attention to him. Who would? Would you want to be friends with some 10 year old snot-nosed little brat?

I have this two legged walking turd who currently calls himself Jeff Surlak, but goes by many other names, cos he's his balls are missing and he hasn't got the backbone to tell me his real name...cowards never do.

Anyway, little "jeffy" has been trying to change my passwords on bcuk and Wordpress all day--since about 2 am this morning.

Seriously, from 2am this morning untl 7.30 at night, this moron has done nothing but try to reset all my blog passwords--bcuk, Twitter, Wordpress. That's all this loser has done, all day. No job, no housework, no volunteer work, no reading a book, just sitting on his lazy American arse, trying to re-set my blog passowrds.

Well isn't that special???

Twee "jeffy" doesn't work for a living. All he does is sit on his well-fed American republican arse all day, harassing a disabled adult.

I am disabled, and this dweeb knows it. He won't attack me on a group blog, and he doesn't liek to attack me in comments as "Jeffy", tho' he has come around as a wide assortment of usernames, including light-of-lights, blacman, etc.

I ask you now, for words of support, for me, in this, a very trying time.

You see, I wasn't going to blog this, but the doctor's office called with some test results.

As some of you know, almost a month ago, I injured the right side of my back rather severely. Two days later, an old injury on the left side sprang to life again. The doctor tod me I have nerve damage. If it doesn't heal, I was told at around noon-time today, that I eventually may lose the use of one or both of my legs, due to complications from my diabetes. I'm a a little scared, OK?

I'm not posting this for sympathy, but I do want you to know that I am scared and in pain, and stressed out. I am dealing also, with winter coming on--it can snow here in October--and facing no heat or electricity. Porker knows about my injury, he knows about the financial stresses--now he knows that I have a new issue to plauge me.

I need to feel like I'm not alone. This is the last blog post I'm going to write for a while, cos' I need to get my head together, after the terrible news today.

To have to deal with a ball-less blog troll, is just too much today. I was fighting him back--ignoring doesn't work on idiots, it's too subtle. Bullies are stupid cowards and only understnd one thing--abuse. And an emotionally ill person, is often the last one to admit he or she is ill, as well...especially American men. They're hopelessly insecure.

This bloke has been hounding me and harrassing me for months, KNOWING that I am disabled and have been dealing with a great many hardships of late.

This person has taken delight in letting me know he knows my name, my address and my usernames, as well as one of my e-mail addresses.

I've tried ignorning him, fighting back and blocking him from my blogs. He's got less of a life than I do, apparently, and has, as I've just written, devoted his entire empty little day, to abusing me.

I am sick right now. I am tired and my back hurts like hell, and I can't feel my left foot or my right hip at all.

I would personally rather kill myself than be around these stupid mean sexually insecure, mentally ill, knuckle-dragging American boys another minute longer. But, I have no choice. Guys like this one have really made me see my country in a very ugly light.

America is a sewer of mean, inhuman morons, and American "Men" who like to make a hobby out of hurting women and the disabled whom they can't see face-to-face, are the rats.

The Taliban? Bring 'em on! They're no better than the average white American male, I reckon this bloke's next move, is to start smashing babies' heads against trees, for "fun."

You wouldn't catch a man from Great Britian, the Netherlands, or any other part of free Europe, behaving this way!

Now for your entertainment and enligthenment, here are some of "jeff surlak"s (aka light-of-lights, porker, blacman, etc.) little messages to me:

Oh and because I know you'll bring up the
porker thing again, I'll just tell you right now I took that identity from joys
son ONCE on twitter because I though it was funny. So yeah.

___________________________________________________________-

Here I'll give you some history, when I first found your blog, you were ranting
on about how you were outta here, apparently that joy person had reported you or
something?
well anyway I saw how funny your dramatic reactions had been whenever those
people did something and I thought it was funny as hell! so after they stopped I
took up the mantle as your new troll, and I've been pissing you off ever since,
from sloth to mr_chiggers, all me.

__________________________________________________________________________

Please consider giving me your support at this most trying time. I have another appointment for further tests in early October. I would appreciate your well-wishes. I won't be blogging much from now on, but I'll be around. Thanks.

I can't handle dealing with the dweeb constantly changing my password--three stinking times today!

I can't even delete my own effing blogs!

Can someone please, please, just click on my profile, look down at the bottom left side of the page, and see if my e-mail address is visiible?

I set my e-mail to "only me" but I can still see it on the profile page--I don't know if it's just me that can see it, or if anyone can.

It's a brand new e-mail address and I want to keep it secret, more or less. So I would like to know if anyone can see it, or if the "only me" is working.

Thanks much.

I just started my day by writing a funny poem about a certain little worm. This chap makes it too easy.

Speaking of morons, I was up till 6.30am, thanks to the crackheads in training upstairs.

American boys today, have tiny balls and even tinier brains....and no life, whatsover. Jeez--when they aren't being worms, they act like scared little bunny rabbits, when it comes to behaving like responnible grown men.

I have come to the conclusion that the reason America won't bring back the draft, is that the large bulk of America's young men, are pathetic little worms.

It's much easier to be a worm, than to soar like an eagle.

An eagle has to stretch its wings, learn how to fly, how to soar to new heights, how to explore the world at large.

A worm just crawls along in the dirt, burrowing under the soil, doesn't need to see anything. Crawling is easier than flying, and less frightening.

And thus was the theme of my poem, which I posted on my creative writing blog.

I won't post it here, why post it twice?

The sky is the palest blue which you can imagine, tinted with rose and pearl grey clouds. There's a tall maple tree, over near the big granite Presbyterian church, towering over the rooftops of flats...it's bright orange and red. In the growing light of dawn, that orange tree shines like a torch, as if trying to outdo the sunrise in magnificence.

On that note, it's been a rough night, my back is hurting rather badly--back to using a cane again, today, and I really need some sleep.

Cheers.

Your top five "addictions"

1. Dr Who
2. horses
3. reading
4. pizza
5. writing

Your top five DVD's that you own

1 Dr Who series 4 set
2. The Doris Day and Rock Hudson collecton
3. The Vicar of Dibley
4. Anatomy of a Murder
5. To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar

Your top five resturants

The Wooden Soldier diner, Fairhaven, VT
Ted's Fish Fry, Watervilet, NY
Spiak's, Maplewood, NY
Roma, Whitehall, NY
Hot Dog Charlie's, Maplewood, NY

(whoops, missed copy/pasting the last two)

Your top five non-fiction books

1. Essays, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
2 Man on Horseback, by Glenn Vernam
3. The Age of Kings, BBC 1963 (shakespeare's historical plays)
4. Roman Culture, by Gary Wills
5. North American Guide to Wildlife

Your top five fiction books

1. The Walking Drum by Louis L'amour
2. Cannery Row, by John Steinbeck
3. To Tame a Land, by Louis L'amour
4. Ivanhoe, by Scott
5. Dr Who, Blood Harvest by Terrence Dicks

...those effheads upstairs, are so stupid, they don't even qualify as full-fledged crack addicts!

Arrrgh! 3am in the morning, and the ___heads upstairs just knocked over a bunch of stuff onto the floor, basically it sounded like someone picking up a mess of pool cues, and dropping them on a wooden floor.

Last time I heard that noise, effhead number one, whose name is "Joe," said he was cleaning out his closet...at effing three am in the morning?

See, whenever Joe gets drunk or stoned out on crack or whatever, he gets hyper. Like a 10 year old on a sugar rush...and I have to pay the price in lost sleep.

Whether it's hoovering at 1am, falling over the sofa at 2am, or cleaning out his closet at
3am...ultimately, I pay the price for his nocturnal wanderings.

I have nothing against party-heads, they want to eff themselves up, let 'em...until they eff up my day, and then I begin having fantasies.

Right now, hearing the little crackheads-in-training bouncing off the walls upstairs, I'm fantazing about reaching down his pants, pulling out his tiny little nuts, bodily yanking them off, and stuffing them down his throat. He can wash it down with his stinking beer!

My back is a bit tender tonight, and sitting is uncomfortable, so I put the rest of my dinner aside, while I went to rest my back a bit.

I laid it on a chair, thinking it would be safe. Came back--and my chicken breast was gone!

Fortunately, I was almost finished, anyway.

I look around to see what became of it, and there's Charlie on the lounge carpet by the balcony window, hunched over hunk of BBQ chicken, gnawing on it. Then, as I watched, I think he got a bite of BBQ sauce, cos' suddenly he picked it up, and flung the piece in the air, partway across the room, and sulked off.

Thank goodness the sauce was baked on, and not dribbly, or it would have been all over the carpet, and I would have had a right mess on my hands.

I don't eat at the kitchen table any more, cos' the legs fell off a year or so ago, and I have no tools to fix it with. The table didn't take the move very well, and the screws all came loose, I guess.

So, now I eat at my desk, most of the time, or in nice weather, out on the wee table on my balcony.

Jesus, I'm getting sick of the brats upstairs. Always coming home drunk around midnight, throwning shit around and making enough noise to wake the dead--sometimes I can actually hear them falling over the furniture. These would be the arseholes whom thought it a good idea to hoover their carpets at 1am on a Sunday morning. Bastards. Get a real stinking job, then you'll be too tired to be drunk every freaking night.

I don't get these kids....they can't be arsed to bring their rubbish bin in from the kerb--ever, but they like to hoover at 1am? I didn't understand these types of people when I was their age, and I don't understand them even more, now.

Well, I'll have to go a few weeks without my diabetes and blood pressure meds. I can manage the cost of the meds, MAYBE, if I cut some other stuff out of my budget--what I can't manage is the cab fare to the pharmacy.

There's a bus, but it only goes 4 times a day--what the hell would I do waiting 3 hours for a blinking bus to come back to pick me up? It's way to far for me to walk, even if I didn't have a back injury. I can walk, and ride a horse at a walk for half and hour--which is just sitting, really, but I still can't peddle a bike. I tried today, and it hurt like hell.

And even before my injury, I wouldn't have been able to ride my bike to the pharmacy--even that would have been too far. I live in the northeast end of the city, and my druggist is way down on the southwest side.

Not having a car anymore can really suck, sometimes. Tho' I wouldn't be able to afford the petrol, insurance, etc. for it, any more than I can shell out for cab fare.

I'm lucky with the bus. They've halved fare for the legally disabled and elderly, and it's only 50 cents now, mostly, unless I transfer or go across zones.

I'm quite stiff and sore tonight. I went to the supermarket today, and got a week's worth of cat food, plus some food I needed. The shopping was OK, in fact, today was the first day in weeks that I've been able to walk without my cane.

However, getting the heavy bags upstairs...the hurt like hell, and my back is not a happy camper tonight. I miss being able to take a hot bath. The one-dollar shop stopped selling muscle rub, and my heating pad stopped working, so I'll just have to settle for a hot shower, I suppose. Hopefully, that and two ibuprofin will help.

My back is slowly improving, as long as I don't push too hard. I sort of have to play it by ear, what I can and cannot do. I tend to fall asleep a lot, lately, in unscheduled naps. I'm just so unbelieveabley tired and run down, I feel like I'm 90 years old, by the late afternoon or early evening, sometimes.

Meh--I'll be fine, eventually. Maybe be able to find a job again, soon, to avert a heat/electric shut off. I hope so. Can't go back to work yet though. Can't stand upright still.

Tho' my standing time is slowly increasing. I managed to stand long enough to comfortably cook tonight, sort of. Bought a BBQ marinated boneless-skinless chicken breast from the in-store butcher's today, with my food stamps. Also grabbed a fresh ear of corn, and some frozen cheesy rice. Shoved the chicken in the cooker, husked and boiled the ear of sweet corn, nuked the cheesy rice in the microwave, and viola! Nice "home cooked" dinner!

Meh, it's better than a frozen dinner or ready meal, I guess. If my back is cooperative, I may try making some homemade soup, tomorrow. If I can stay awake long enough I don't own a slow cooker any longer, but I'll set my alarm clock so I won't fall asleep while the soup is simmering on the stove.

Going to bed early, to watch a DVD and/or read.

Orley Farm isn't bad, but the writing's a bit..meh. Well, Victorian writing is a lot more long-winded and convoluted than modern writing. People were more leaisurly about their reading, back then. I'm still trying to figure out how the author really feels about women...does he see them as dim-witted living knick-knacks, or does he want to show that society sees them that way? Hmmm-.

A while back, a hiker in Antietam National Battlefield found the remains of a body.

Archeologists and historians excavated the body, and found it to be the shattered remains of a New York solider who served in the Civil War. The only indication of the soldier's origins was a single button, marking him as part of a New York State regiment.

A Saratoga Springs historian read about the discovery, and began the task of bringing the soldier boy back to his home state for re-burial. The casket contained shards of bone, shreds of what was once blue uniform cloth, the button, and a belt buckle. It is thought that the soldier may have been hit by a cannon ball, a charge of grape or some shrapnel, apparently.

Today, the body arrived in state in a hearse, in an 1860's period style casket, which was draped with an American flag. The casket was scorted by an honour guard consisting of soldiers of New York's National Guard--the modern equivilent of this soldier's regiment, Civil War re-enactors and 100 Patriot Riders--(a motorcycle group consisting of US veterans and others, most known for their sheilding of the families of modern soldiers killed in battle, during the funerals, from the anti-gay protests by the infamous and mentally unbalanced Westboro Baptist Church).

The casket was on display to the public all day today, at the New York State Military Museum in Saratoga Springs, in order for those whom wished to, to pay their respects.

Tomorrow, Thursday, a public burial will take place in Saratoga National Cemetery--where my dad is buried, which is a place put aside for the burial New York's US military veteran's.

The soldier's regiment and identity is completely unknown, for all eternity. But..at least he's come back to his home state, albeit, 147 years late.

The glories of war?

One of my favourite sit-coms when I was a teenager, was called "One Day at a Time." It was about a recently divorced mum, on her own for the first time in years, who moves with her two teenage girls into a high rise in some Midwestern city--I forget which one.

I related to it very well, because there were two girls: an older rebellious one (much like my real-life sister), and the naive one (yup, much like me).

Sony Entertainment forced Youtube to pull all the old episodes off--why, I don't know, cos' they aren't available on DVD, that I can find, anywhere, and, the show wasn't a top hit, so it wouldn't be in big demand for purchases. I could understand the pulling it, if it was selling in the shops, but..why pull something you can't find to buy?

Anyway, all I can find is this 'minisode.' I picked this one, cos in it, the dad comes to visit, and mum tells him they kids don't want his presents, so much as they want his presence. And, that's what I felt about my dad, all my life, too.

The second "minisode," features a young actor that will be extremely familiar to Star Wars fans--Luke, I am your uncle Snyder?

The two parter episode of The Sarah Jane Adventures, titlted, The Wedding Of Sarah Jane Smith, in which David Tennant guest-stars as The Doctor, is, at present, scheduled to appear on BBC One on the 29th and 30th of October.

The 2nd Dr Who special for 2009, The Waters Of Mars, is tentatively scheduled to air BBC One in November.

Whoo--Who!!!

GACK!!!!!!!!!! Someone just tried to send me Dr Who End of Time spoilers. NO-NO-NO!

I-don't-want-to-know. I like nice surprises. I've had too many very bad surprises, Nice surprises good. spoiled nice surprises bad. I want to the wonder and joy of a new journey with my favourite fictional character--& one helluva grand actor.

The best part of a new journey, is the anticipation, the day of departure, when you've no idea what you will see or where you'll end up.

That's only news to the intellectually stunted, the obtuse and those in total denial.

Read any neo-conservative forum, listen or watch any right-wing talk show, and the racism simmers under the surface like underground hot springs in Yellowstone Natl. Park.

Even Sen. Joe Wilson's recent remarks are steeped in racsim. If immigrants were mostly European, instead of Hispanic or Muslim, would the southern white trash be so up in arms over whether or not the govt. provided health care to illegal aliens? You bet every well-fed lazy American arse he wouldn't have done.

It's not that Obama is just black--he has muslim roots, as well, and that adds salt to an already over-bloated anti-white, anti non-Christian paranoia that prevades many areas of America.

I sometimes miss going to the cinema--especially the drive-in movies.

This is the last week for our local drive-in to be open, I believe. We have two types of "drive-in's" in America: one is the fast-disappearing outdoor cinema, the other is the equally fast-disappearing drive-in snack bar.

We still have both around here, though. There's a couple of old-time drive-in snack bars with curb service, still--one in Lake George and one in the rural Washington County town of Granville, NY, which is a slate quarry town on the Vermont border. Lots of Welsh folks there, I'm told.

Anyway, a drive-in snack bar is (technically), has "curb service," where you pull up to a parking space, and a waitress--aka: "car hop," comes out. You roll down your window, and the waitress attaches a special tray to it. Then, you place your order, sit in your car chatting or listening to the radio--or both, and wait for the waitress to return, putting your drinks and food and condiments on the tray for you--and you hope the tray doesn't tip over, ha-ha. It doesn't, but I've had some close calls.

The drive-in snack bar is a relic of the 1950's and 60's, when the automobile was the end all, be all of American life.

There are still snackbars around, but few with what's known as "curb (kerb) service." Most drive-in snack bars today, expect you to get out of your car, and either walk up to the window or go inside to place your order.

The drive-in cinema was an experience of many an american child, growing up in the 50's to the 70's. In my late 20's, a date took me to a drive-in, back in 1989. The last time I was able to go to the cinema, was here at the Glen Drive-in, back in 2005, just two moths before my mum passed on.

As a child, we kids went with our parents in our Chevy station wagon to the cinema--usually my sister and I were allowed to go there in our PJ's, cos' the cinema began at dusk--as late as 9 or 9.30, and ran two features until midnight or 1am in summer time. I can't speak for my sister, but until I was about 11 or 12, I rarely was awake by the end of the second feature.

There would be a cooler filled with ice and cold drinks--alcohoic beverages were never allowed in the cinema (tho' that didn't stop some people). That lovely hot freshly buttered popcorn came from the snack bar. Our local drive-in, Tri-city Twin was usually the theater of choice, but there were loads of others, in towns all over the area. At one time, there were two drive-in's in the town of Latham, New York, across the road from each other--one shortly went under though, and was an empty lot for years, though, now I think there's been a drug store chain built on the site.

I mention the drive-in that went under, cos' that's the first one I ever remember. It's not my first memory of going to the cinema, just my first memory of an outdoor one. I watched The Horse in the Gray Flannel suit, while munching on a box of Cracker Jacks--caramel coated popcorn and peanuts, with a prize in the bottom of the box--I even remember the prize, it was a wee brown plastic grand piano.

The first time I ever watched Star Wars, back in what? 1976 or 77? I was with mum at the Latham Drive-in. I didn't like the picture. Shocking to me today, as I've since watched the original Star Wars film well over 100 times, since. Probably more like 200. The only thing that ever replaced that film in my affections was Dr Who, in 1983. If Dr Who hadn't come along in my life, I'd probbly be a Star Wars geek today, rather than a Whovian.

Anyway, true. The first time I saw Star Wars I was totally underwhelmed. I was bored with it, couldn't figure out what the hell it was all about.

Well, there's actually a good reason for that. The first time I watched Star Wars, was through windscreen wipers. Yep, mum and I went to the cinema (I was still under the legal driving age), it was pissing down rain--thunder and lightning, as well. So, I reckon I can be forgiven for not enjoying Star Wars the first time 'round.

A couple of years later, when Empire Strikes Back came out, the area's first cineplex at a now-defunct Albany shopping mall, showed the orignal Star Wars as a lead up to showing ESB. I had gone to the cinema to see another film, only the transit bus schedule was off, and I missed the opening, so I went to Star Wars instead--and it knocked my socks off! It totally blew me away! I was really surprised, when I realized what I'd missed a few years before.

The advent of multi-channel cable & more importantly, HBO, combined with the mass marketing of the VCR, and the coming of the video games, more or less saw the decline of the drive-in theater.

One local drive-in, the Hollywood Drive-in in Averil Park, NY, which we often went to when I was a wee child, as it had a playground and showed Disney films--went the opposite direction in the late 70's and early 80's, and began showing porn films on it's outdoor screens. Much to the objection of local residents. Gee, I can't imagine why.

LATHAM DRIVE-IN AS IT LOOKS TODAY, WHERE I FIRST SAW 'STAR WARS'

A PRESENT-DAY DRIVE-IN, AT DUSK JUST BEFORE THE SHOW:

As I posted a few days back, a relative of a former childhood classmate of mine, was killed when his camper caught fire.

Police say the fire started in the kitchen area, and the man wasn't able to make it out the one door of the caravan. They are refusing to release details of how the man actually died, to "spare the family."

Well, that pretty much says that the poor bloke probably burned to death, and didn't die of asphyxiation. I can't think of a more horrible way to die. My heart goes out to him, and to his family. May he rest in peace.

I was about 12 years old when this programme debuted on television. My sister and I both loved it. It was an instant hit, as being nothing like the usual TV westerns we all grew up with. Kung Fu later went on to win an Emmy Award.

US republican conservatives aren't really concerned about nationalized medicine leading to socialism, they don't really care that it might cover abortions, they don't really care that it might dictate how old people will die...it's all about money.

American republicans were fine with spending billions on bombs, and billions more on space exploration, and billions to bail out banks and other major corporations....but, when it comes to saving millions of American's lives....the republicans scream the house down about costs.

While millions of American citizens--the elderly who've worked hard all their lives, and now face losing their homes, to pay for expensive medicines, and the disabled whom have to choose between buying food and paying for co-pays and medicines, poor single mum's whom have to choose which child suffers and which of her children gets vital medical or dental care....

....over 46 MILLION Americans suffer horrendous pain, and suffer from illnesses every day, day after day, month after month, with NO treatment or medicines available to them, because they have no money to spare for it....this includes America's poor children. All the while, fat, rich republican thugs feast at four-star restarants with lobby members from the insurance and drug companies.

The French Revolution began when the rich and powerful feasted themselves while the ordinary citizen starved.

The Russian Revolution--that lead to communsim, began when the Czar and other aristocrats lorded over the ordinary people, again feasting while others suffered.

The Third Reich came about because the German people were not consulted at all. America and England and other countries, did what they wanted to do, without any consideration for the consequences....just like the republicans are doing. They aren't thinking. They aren't caring. That millions of their fellow citizens--their own fellow Republicans in many cases--are genuinely hurting and sick and suffering--doesn't mean a damn thing to them. They are going to do what they want to do.

The TRUE motives of the republicans are thus: 1. to help the powerful drug and insurance companies retain their huge profits. And, 2. to hurt the democrats by taking the mickey out of Obama, so they can re-claim their former political power in congress and the senate.

Well, napped this afternoon. Didn't intend to, mind you, I was resting my back, lying there reading Trollope's novel. But, I nodded off. Woke up three hours later. Guess I must have needed it, I suppose. And, my back does feel a bit better, for having rested it for a couple of days.

Those old physical therapy exercises I learned years ago, certainly have helped a bit, as well.

So, I'm just sitting here listening to some music, and going through some stuff, the pre-moving clean out.

I won't be posting my new address online anywhere, of course, after I move. However those of you whom know me personally, and have corresponded with me before, will get a PM or e-mail with my new address.

The move will be postponed though, I'm sure, for a while longer than I anticipated, due to my back problems and other issues I can't discuss here, cos' they don't involve me directly at all.

I'm hopeful to be relocated before Christmas, but..meh. We'll see. It'll happen when it happens, I reckon.

It's hard tho'. I not only need a place that will accept three cats, but is under $600 a month, and also includes at least the heat (if not the electric service) in the price of the rent. That's a very tall order, for anywhere in New York state.

Finding someone to adopt an older cat is next to impossible, and Flamey isn't adoptable, cos' she has a disability...and she's not "fixed" and when she's in heat, she sounds a bit like a wild banshee with her bum caught in a wringer...yowling constantly...for days, even a week or so, non-stop.

Boots is unadoptable cos' he's terrified of people--he even runs from me if I come in the front door too noisily or too fast!

I think Charlie would live anywhere, as long as someone made him the centre of attention, petting and playing with him, and of course, feeding him his tinned food twice daily.

Anyway, lots of stuff to be got through, paperwork I need--or don't need, stuff I don't need to take with me, etc. I think I'll have a yard sale sometime in October...maybe the first or second weekend, if it's nice. If my back will cooperate, that is.

Well, my two days of bedrest are over, so I grabbed a mall bus this morning and walked around the mall a bit. Sat in the food court sipping a small soda (cheaper than the gourmet coffee), and wandered around looking at the shops.

The mall has come up in the world slightly, since I was last there, back in May. I found that a bit surprising, considering there's a recession on, but then remembered that all the foreign student workers like to shop there, and the tourists, as well, so maybe they didn't do so bad this summer.

It's amazing, I've seen tourists come up from the New York City area, to this equivilent of Blackpool surrounded by mountains, lakes and literally millions of trees, and what do they ask directions to? The mall! Unfreakingbelievable.

Anyway, wandered around TJ Max, Claire's Boutique, Old Navy, Target, etc. http://www.shopaviationmall.com/

I noticed that our food court lost its pizzeria and ice cream shop, but now has a kebab shop--that's two kebab shops in our area now! Wow, we're actually catching up with the rest of the world, now. It has a Chinese takeaway, an Arby's, a Subway and Sunny Kebab.

There's also a Victoria Secret at the mall that wasn't there three months ago--and I'm trying not to picture one of the scruffy, shuffling, bovine-looking locals, in a black silk teddy. Bleurgh!

I was in Target, and decided to wander around a bit. I needed some tinned cat food, so I had to basically go from the mall entrance to the outside entrance--the Target has a mall entrance on one side, and a car park entrance on the other...and the tills are only at the car park side, meaning if you come in from the mall, intending to make a purchase, you have to blinking walk the entire length of the store to do so.

Anyway, I wandered about. I looked at some very pretty ladies wellies--blinking $25 to $35! For vinyl rain boots??? Jeez.

They had the old leather harness boots--I used to have a pair for riding, back in the 70's! Back in the 70's, the girls made fun of me for wearing them at my high school (I wore them on days I was riding after school with the riding club)--now, they are selling those very same style of boots--I mean, exactly the same, in the ladies shoes of slightly upscale Target! Wow, times really have changed!

In hindsight, it's true though; they aren't very feminine looking, I have to admit.

Lucchese makes beautiful cowgirl boots, as well as Boulet, Anderson Bean, Tony Lama and Olathe.

After I move to the "big city," I'll probably never ride again--or at least, not for years. But, if I were rich and had a horse--or did get that wrangler job at Wild West Ranch, these boots by White Horse I'd buy in a heartbeat, personally speaking...aren't they pretty? The rose embroidery comes in topaz and red, too. I like the topaz (burnt orange) best, but the deep red rose is nice, as well.

And, I'd buy a pair of ladies western spurs like these, and straps to go with them:

Got some spam in my e-mail inbox, saying that someone in Lake ____, the town where I lived in my mobile home for five years, "has a crush on me."

Even if that were even remotely true, I wouldn't date someone from the southern Adirondack mountains, if he were the last "man" on earth! Bleh! That'd be like going to cinema and dinner with a steer in a suit.

No, and just to make this perfectly crystal clear: NO.

Nothing on this planet could ever entice me to date an American "man." I'd rather stay an old maid and be alone for the rest of my life, thank you very much. I like my men to be grown ups with some modicum of genuine wit and intelligece. Not going to get that around here, I'm afraid. No way, Jose.

I've been watching Doctor Who for 26 years now, and this has to be the one scene that has held my fond affections. It made me laugh so hard I almost got sick--especially Tate's marvelous Al Jolson impression! That was definately a shoot milk out your nose, moment...not that I did. It's just an expression I made up...oh, never mind.

Oh, there's loads of Doctor Who scenes that I love, but none which ever delighted me quite so much--these two actors were just made for each other, like Hepburn and Bogie!

I hate evenings, that's when my back begins making my life a misery, the most. Of course, having to take out a heavy bin bag down two flights of stairs wasn't any help, I suppose, but..ya' do what ya' gotta' do.

Trying to decide what video to watch on my portable player this evening...I go to bed early these days--sometimes I get up again later, but it's really dull lying in bed. So, I am thinkiing either Mr. Deeds Goes to Town with Gary Cooper, or To Wong Foo Thanks For Everything Julie Newmar--love that flick, Shadow of the Thin Man or The Outlaw Jose Wales.

It's getting chilly in the evenings now--not unbearably so, no need for radiators to be turned on, or roaring fireplaces quite yet. But, my front window is stuck open, and I fear I'm going to have to cast around for someone to come in here and shut it for me...it's too high for me to reach, inmy present condition.

If it wasn't such a rickety old window, I'd try a few gentle taps with my hammer, but I fear breaking the panes.

Anyway, a dull evening in store, what with reading Orley Farm and watching a DVD I've already seen a few times...still, there could be a lot worse ways to spend a night, and certainly if anyone knows that, it's me, and I'd be churlish to complain about it.

Cheers.

.] How come I can never find: my dream job when I'm actually available to take it?

2.] I wish I'd never started: eating pizza, I'm addicted to it.

3.] I wonder why: Americans are too stupid to understand that nationalized medicine isn't about socialism, it's about saving American lives and easing the genuine pain and suffering of millions who would otherwise go untreated or undertreated.

4.] Mama always told me: to wear clean pants every day, in case I had to be rused to hospital...and she was right, too.

5.] There's this one thing in my closet that I just can't seem to get rid of: My cowboy hat. It's a fixture that's here to stay until the day I die...even if I don't wear it that often, any more. It's me. It's part of who I am.

6.] My favorite guilty pleasure is: Arby's, Taco Bell or McDonald's.

7.] I always forget to: Make sure I know where my wallet is, the night before I have to go out.

8.] I have never: been kissed on the lips by someone not a direct member of my family.

9.] I'm obsessed with: Doctor Who and horses and reading and writing...and yeah, pizza too.

10.] One of my favorite memories is: Mum sitting on my bed at night, reading me King of the Wind.

I watched A Double Life again last night. I have it on DVD.

It's about a famous stage actor, who seriously gets into his characters.

When given the role of Othello, he takes his training as an actor one step further..and thinks he really is Othello.

Thus is spun a yarn of maddess and murder and a race to save the audience from witnessing a real death on stage.

The actor, Ronald Coleman, played the triple role as the actor as your ordinary run-of-the-mill celebrity--and as Othello, and the actor going mad and thinking he was Othello. That must have been an amazing part. Certainly, it's a fantastic performance.

The role was originally offered to Cary Grant, who suprisingly, turned it down.

This Academy-Award winning film from the 40's, also stars Shelly Winters in one of her first roles, and Swedish actress Signe Hasso, is worth giving a watch.

Cecil the stormtrooper had a terrible case of armoured codpiece envy.

Chuck the Star Wars geek, felt sure that bush caused a tremor in The Force.

Now that I got that drooling brat porker out of the way, I can go back to blogging.

The bullying the bully tactic worked better than I hoped, I really pushed his buttons last night, the dull little dweeb, and I'm sorry to say, it did actually feel a tiny bit empowering.

It's a gorgeous day here--barely a cloud in the sky this morning--just a few over the Hudson River to the south.

I'm on day two of forced rest--doctor's orders.

I began reading Trollpe's Orley Farm, which is supposed to be one of his better works. Perhaps not the best reading choice when one is bored, as it is a bit dry and long-winded, still, it's good reading, I'm finding, despite that.

Loved Lost Horizon, and I very likely shall re-read it, sometime in the near future.

Caught up on the news, (local, national and international) last night, vented out my feelings about stalkers by writing a lengthy poem, blogged a bit, made a phone call, listened to a radio programme podcast, watched A Double Life on DVD, and read. So, I am managing to keep my mind occupied, if not my body.

I made all the stalker posts private posts, so the public won't be bothered by the crappy stuff any more. Going back to just my usual blogging on here.

It's a quiet morning here, which is good. Mornings should be quiet, to let us slip gently into our days.

Cheers.

So, I'm going to take this crap with the rugrat stalker out of my blog.

I'm going to have a brand new blog, on a different blog site, strictly devoted to twee porker, little jeffy, the asshole from Texas and the freak from Pennslyvania...

...and all the other little lazy trash out there, who would rather sit in front of a computer all day, using spam software to change their IP addresses, thinking mistakenly thinking they are clever---when only idiots sit on their asses all day dicking around and doing NOTHING.

Yeah, rather than going out and getting a job, or volunteering, or going to school and actually learning something, these lazy slobs are bothering the disabled, sick people, the elderly, women and children for kicks--oooh, that's brilliant. Not.

Terrorists of the internet, stalkers are the way they are, because they are emotionally disturbed, or their mum's and/or dad's never gave them the right kind of attention, or they hate women--stalkers do what they do for lots of reasons, under the guise of "fun."

But--it's not fun, it's a serious behavioural problem.

Bullying is not normal human behaviour. I'll wager that 95% of human beings would say that bullying is no more funny, than raping a child. It's just plain is not a hobby any stable, responsible human being would have. It comes from some other source--bad home life, mental health issues, social insecurity, errectile dysfuction, whatever.

I'm sure they like to think themsleves smart--well, does anyone really think the cowardly trash who crashed those three planes on 9/11, or those folks who bombed London on that July day, were particularly brave or clever? Anyone? Didn't think so.

Anyway, yes. I think it's time I devoted a whole blog, to picking on the stalkers. I'm very, very good at telling people what I really think of them, and won't hold back.

So, I'm going to just not read and delete porker, like I ignore and delete tinfoil hat man....but, at the same time, I am going to go into my e-mail, and copy and paste every single one of the comments--and the various IP addresses, if I have them, and post all this crap on my new blog--probably on Blogger.

I'm going to call my new blog: How to Bully a Cyberstalker...or, perhaps Porkerswhinebuckle is a Loser.

Well--he is. I've been to Europe and Egypt, had my own business, went all by myself 1000 miles to Wyoming, been to three colleges and took four vocational courses in my lifetime, I've had my own business, had dreams and tried to pursue them, gone riding, hiking, fishing, swiming, showshoeing, boating--ridden horses in Egypt and Icelnd, helped sail a big sailboat in Friesland (NL), gone to museums, galleries and historic homes, read hundrends of books, was a volunteer museum tour guide, handicapped riding helper, delivered lunches to the elderly, etc., Unlike porker and all the rest, I've LIVED.

Unlike cyberstalkers, I got out in the world. I didn't sit at home being a useless, helpless. lazy pain in the ass. My ambition in life was never to be useless, or a nuisence. I was never afraid to do something good or positive with my life.

Porker used to piss me off---but now, I want to thank him. Last night, he made me feel better about myself. I may be nobody now, but I wasn't always. I've done more living in 48 years, than porker has ever done---or ever will do.

Jeffy or Porker or Richard or whatever name his dysfuctional parents gave him, hides behind his computer all day, mindlessly being an asshole to total strangers, writing empty nonsense that no one wants to read--I use my computer to talk to my mature and intelligent friends, read news, explore new ideas and tell the world what I'm actually thinking.

What do cyber stalkers ever write? Infantile burbbling. Think about that. I write what I think, porker writes NOTHING.

Yeah, thanks porker. compared to you, I am not even remotely loser--I'm temporaily unemployed, but at least I had a job--even lame and sick as I sometimes am, I went out to work, I went out to museums, I went out and rode horses and milked cows. What have you done, this year? Me, a loser?

Ha. I really am not, am I?

I am playwrite27, hear me ROAR.

This the last post on bcuk--ever, about my cyberstalkers. I am taking control, and it to another blog site.

Cheers.

I deleted it, it wasn't worth posting--but now "Porker" claims he's "Jeff" from Seattle Washionton--and true, some jerk from Seattle did visit me---wow, Seattle does have a lot of fucked up people as well, ey?

Why "Jeff" decided to portray himself as Porker, is beyond me. He knows Joy--he just admitted it, and I did save his comment on aol, so he can't deny it---

Joy, aka: "Janeagain," will have to sort out Jeff on her own, I guess. I want to thank "Jeff" as I now also have is entire IP address, as well. Would you like to see it?

My stalker claims to be impersonating porker.

If that's true, I give Porker my heartfelt apologies, but I had no way of knowing that one of stole the kid's ID--if this is true as "Jeff" claims.

So, it's Jeff that's the messup little retard, then? God, I hope he's a teenager as well, and not over 21---christ, that would be scary, wouldn't it?

jsurlak223@yahoo.com

IP address: 204.15.226.244, 204.15.226.244

Message as it was sent to me (and now in my saved mail--along with all his usernames on Twitter) on aol--you see, I am thinking of contacting the cops again, and I do want to thank "Jeff" for being so obliging.

And no, little Jeffy, annoying a sick and disabled adult, is not in the least funny--it's ABNORMAL.

I am not fucking amused. I am sick, I am in constant pain and I am tired--and you, young man, you are being a massive pain in the arse--why don't you go run over someone in a wheelchair, if you think bothering hurt people is funny-- that's about your speed.

And, you should call Lost And Found, and see if anyone has turned in your sense of humour...cos' sunshine, you absolutely have no clue, what real humour truly is.

God, what's it like having no balls or manly pride, anyway?

I think America really is a diseased nation, when Americans are OK with someone bothering the disabled and calling it a "joke."

Well, everyone, here's wat wee Jeffy has told me--and see, I told you Janeagain was in some way involved in this--if "Jeff" knows her real first name.

Comment:
um....wow, no I didn't write that, that's what happens when your posts go
through a persian translator and come out the other end. It's pretty funny
actually, and by the way, I'm 26 and from Seattle, so... the Minnesota thing,
don't know where your going with that. Oh and because I know you'll bring up the
porker thing again, I'll just tell you right now I took that identity from joys
son ONCE on twitter because I though it was funny. So yeah.

I am going to go in and delete all the porker posts that I wrote, now that this has come to light.

I DO NOT want to hear from Jeff, porker or that Houston creep or Tinfoil hat man, ever again, I will find another blog and make my porker posts seem mild by comparision, and there won't be a damn thing any of them can do about it. I am playwrite27. Hear me ROAR.

Man, this country is totally going to pieces--I'm telling you, America is dead as a country--we're doomed. The whole country is going mental and losing it's grip on human civilization.

I'm not entirely buying this, cos' Seattle hasn't shown up that much on my blog--and this brat has been doing some serious digging--for month's, into hundreds of my blog posts.

Still, I have an IP to go on now, and I've warned the kid--and that's ALL he's getting, ONE warning.

I have LOADS of time on my hands, I can pursue this at my leisure, if the brat wants to keep it up. It's his reputation that will suffer, not mine. It's not cool to stalk and harass the disabled..for "fun," as "Jeff" puts it.

I was going to go to bed early, but decided to stay up a while, and finish reading a news article that grabbed me, about global warming.

Anyway, I've been just sitting here, chillin to some tunes--found a new band tonight, to listen to, called The Redwalls. They have a tune called "Thank You," that I rather like, but the jury is still out on some of their other stuff.
I put the "Thank You" track on my playlist player on Roasting David.

My back is hurting, but not nearly so bad as last night, thankfully. The ER doctor told me to take it easy, and get lots of bed rest for the next 48 hours. Seems he though the whatever it is, has become inflamed again. More ibuprofin, yippie.

I declined the pain pain pill script last night. 1. I really can't afford it--$6 cab fare and $4 for the meds. And 2. it's an addictive controlled substance, and I don't like taking that sort of thing, if I can at all help it. IF the pain becomes totally unbearable--like it almost was, last night, I will go back and ask for a script, but I'd rather heal on my own, as drug-free as possible.

Maybe I'll get some Doan's Pills when I get my check on the 3rd. I used to take those when I had a bad back--when I hurt my back the first time--working as a stablehand. I had to take them several times a day, some days, just so I could do my work--involving a lot of heavy lifting and physical movement--hopefully, I'll not have to take many, this time around. They worked pretty well, though, at helping manage my pain.

So, onward and upward, time for bed. Take care all.

A blog friend was asking for plum recipes.

Well...when I was studying culinary arts about 18 years ago, a local farmer give my teacher a couple of bushels of apples, a bushel of pears and a bushel of plums.

Dividing half of the class up into pairs of two, we were instructed to come find or invent recipes that would utilize the fruit--extra credit for non-desert recipes and creativity. (the other half of the class had other assignments to do.)

I kept a lot of my recipes from that course, stuck away in an old notebook, and I had seen it recently, when I was clearing out some papers....found it!

Yes, the plum recipes were still there. I'd not thought about it, in years, and wouldn't have even remembered, probably, if I hadn't been leafing through the notebook earlier this summer. I was wondering if I'd thrown it away--I don't ever plan to be employed as a cook ever again (luck willing)...but I had tossed into a box of old school momentos that my late mum had decided worth keeping.

So, I spent about an hour converting the recipes for home use--commercial recipes deal with large quantities and sometimes different cooking methods, as well.

Me and my partner came up with three plum dishes:

A tossed green salad, served with a plum vinegarette dressing, Plum-BBQ chicken (any excuse to fire up the school's whopping huge charcoal BBQ pit), and for dessert, a plum sorbet. I came up with the chicken idea, while outside during a break, leaning against the BBQ pit, my partner--whose name I'm afraid I've forgotten, came up with the idea for a cold dessert. We decided to serve the meal with a salad and baked potato--when we got stuck for the third item, the teacher suggested a plum based salad dressing.

Funny, I'd not thought about that project in years. In hindsight, I'm glad we were given plums instead of apples--apples are overdone, I think. At the time tho', I groaned--I never even ate a plum, didn't have a clue what to do with them, ha-ha.

And without further ado: Plum recipes--my classmate invented this one.

Plum Salad Dressing:

2 plums, pitted
1 ounce orange juice
2 teaspoons onion, finely grated
1 teaspoon garlic, finely minced
1 Tablespoon honey
1 ounce white vinegar (I bet you could substitue rice wine or champange vinegar, if you wanted to get more creative)
2 ounces olive oil
pinch, coarse sea salt

Place the plums and orange juice in a blender and puree. Place in a medium size bowl. Carefully blend in the remaining ingredients. Taste test the mixure. I think I got the amounts right, but you may wish to adjust the flavours to suit your own tastes...you may want to add your own things to it, such as cilantro, tarragon or sage, whatever.

I served this with a spring salad of mixed greens-- with the addition (according to my notes) of some sliced raddishes and shaved carrots.

Chicken with Plum BBQ sauce--and this is my own invention.

16 ounces plums, pitted and cut into bite size pieces
2 tablespoons butter or margarine
1 onion, finely chopped
1/3 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup tomato catsup
2 tablespoons cider vinegar
1 teaspoon chili powder
1/2 teaspoon cumin (strictly optional..we liked it, but the teacher vetoed it).
2 teaspoons lime juice
Salt and pepper, to taste
2 pounds skinless, boneless chicken

This was meant to be BBQ'd on a grill, but since grilling season is nearly over, I also converted this recipe for the cooker, so anyone can make it. This was a hugely popular dish, and we had lots of requests for extra sauce.

Preheat oven to 350 F. In a blender, blend the plums and a bit of water and sugar until pureed. In a large skillet, melt the butter or margarine over medium heat. Add onion and cook until soft. Stir in the plum puree, brown sugar, cider vinegar, catsup, chili powder, cumin if using and the lime juice. Cook, uncovered, stirring often until slightly thickened. About 15 minutes. Sprinkle the chicken with salt and pepper. Arrange the chicken in a lightly greased baking pan. Bake, uncovered, for 30 minutes, basting with plum sauce every 15 minutes. Turn the chicken over and bake, basting occasionally, for 30 more minutes. May reserve the remaining sauce to serve warm on the side for anyone who wants more of it on their chicken.

We decided to finish off the slightly spicy chicken with a plum sorbet for dessert--there's no notes as to where we got this recipe from, so I haven't a clue if it's one we improvised or if was one we found in some cookbook and adapted for a commerical kitchen.

Plum Sorbet:

First to make the puree, place the boiling water and sugar in a saucepan and stir them together until the sugar has dissolved. Add the vanilla pod, cinnamon stick and plums to the syrup and place the saucepan over a moderate heat. Bring the syrup to a simmer and reduce the temperature slightly. Leave the plums to cook gently for 10 minutes. Remove the saucepan from the heat and remove the plums with a slotted spoon and leave them and the syrup to cool. Cut the plums in half and remove the stones from them. Roughly dice the plums and place them in a food processor or blender and puree them with cooking syrup. Set the puree aside until well cooled.

Then, to turn this into a sorbet: Place the puree and syrup in an ice cream machine and allow it to churn until the mixture becomes firm. Place the sorbet in a well sealed freezer proof container and freeze until ready to serve.

Take the puree mixture and place it in a freezer proof sealed container and place it in the freezer for 1 hour then remove it and stir, then return to the freezer and take it out and stir it every 30 minutes for 2 hours then freeze it until ready to serve.

This was a lot of work for 400 people, as I recall it took the two of us several days to put it all together, but it was worth it. At the end of the meal, the teacher introduced us to the "guests," and the other students in the school actually stood up and clapped! Wow, that was like winning the Academy Award, to me.

See? I may be a plain home cooking meat & potatoes gal, but I really do know how to cook "posh!"

I really gotta' win the lottery, so i can get the hell out of this country of incognizant, mingy, dissolute proletarians--I can see it now, some bovine-faced republican will read that and say, "What's them words supposed ta' mean?"

I mean, who elects an obvious liar & infantile moron like Bush--twice, then thinks making Sarah Palin VP is a good idea?

And seriously thinks getting NHS to ease the suffering of nearly 60 mill Americans will lead to socialism---or fascism? I mean, COME ON!

And calls the President a liar to his face, in an important speech regarding the health and lives of millions of human beings, a speech televised around the world? Oh, that makes us look quite civilized, doesn't it?

Anyone got Derren Brown's phone number? I need to win the lottery so I can flee this barbaric country before all hell breaks loose and Americans start killing each other wholesale.

I read in the newspaper today, that someone I used to know when I was growing up--the uncle of a classmate, was killed when his camper caught fire this weekend.

They haven't ID'd the body yet, of course, but they are pretty sure it was him. I didn't even know he had a camp up here. I thought he was living in Florida, last I heard...well, I guess he does, but summers in the Adirondacks, about 10 miles from here.

I can't conceive a more horrible way to die. My heart goes out to his family, who were all very nice, as I recall.

In 2005, a cruise ship company on Lake George had one of their smaller tour boats capsize during a fall foliage tour, killing 20 pensioners on coach holiday from the upper midwest.

Earlier this summer, a passenger in one of their rental boats--whom could not swim, jumped into the water, and his life vest came off, causing him to instantly drown, despite efforts from nearby boaters to save him.

Now, this weekend, the cruise company--which besides operating cruises and boat rentals, also operates a parasailing operation, the son of the owner took out a boat Saturday, and never came home. They found the rental boat he borrowed adift in the middle of the 27 mile long lake. After a 2 hour search by rescue team divers from the town's volunteer fire department, the young man's body was found deep underwater.

It is not yet known whether the drowning was deliberate or accidental, but no foul play is suspected, apparently.

I was sitting here, and heard a cat gagging in my bedroom. Now, in my bedroom, I have an old bamboo straightback chair, with an equally old tin waste bin next to it.

Boots was sitting on the edge of the chair, hunched over the bin, projectile vomiting a hairball into it.

Good boy! That's one mess I won't have to worry about cleaning up--thankfully it had the little can had a wee bin liner in it.

Boots is just dandy, by the way. He started playing with a toy mouse a few moments later. Boots is Ok with choking, but Flamey freaks out! I always know when she has a hairball, cos' she acts like she's on her deathbed, the drama Queen, moaning and screaming in a positive panic. "I've got a hairball! I'm going to diiiieeee--!"

Flamey isn't a happy little ginger kitty, today.

I used the last of the gourmet cat food my friend sent them while I was too ill/hurt to go out to the shops.

Today they got their "usual" Friskies, and Flamey is pouting...well, she's actually acting like a vulture...seriously, she keeps sitting on my computer desk, hunched over and staring at me. "I know if I stare at you long enough, that nice food will magically appear."

Cats, jeez. The joys of pet ownership. Well, I love them, so I have to just put up with it.

I'm tired, I'm sore, and I'm worried as hell about my financal state. $40 may seem like an OK amount to go through to 3rd Nov. with, but really, it's not.

And, I'm not looking forward to having my electric and gas shut off, during the cold months. I'm never going to get out from under National Grid...I think of them as an evil entity, ha-ha. Hitler embodied in a major corporation.

I really am missing my mum today, I don't know why. I really did cry today. Harder than I have for quite a long while. Maybe I'm just tired, I don't know. Probably overdid it again, yesterday, and the pain can really drain you emotionally, I suppose.

I only slept 2 or three hours after getting home from the ER. Those bastards upstairs waking me at 1am with the Hoover...

Part of me loves living in this part of the world, and deeply regrets leaving. But, part of me will be very happy to get the hell of this bovine hellhole.

You know, not a single person here, knows who either Kylie or The Proclaimers are? Hardly anyone has heard of The La's or The Kaiser Chiefs, either.

But then, very few have ever heard of David Tennant, too, for that matter...although we do have a few Whovians up here, if not any DT fan-girls (thank GOD).

I'm settling down with some good tunes: Hold the Line by Toto--first song I ever danced with a boy to, in high school.

Also some other good stuff: Kiss Me Again by Ben's Brother, All I Need by Red Light, Shimmy Low by The Clarks, The Cranberries, Kylie Minogue, Ace of Base, Beth Waters, Manhattan Transfer, The Beach Boys, The Goo-Goo Dolls, Kaiser Cheifs, The Proclaimers, The Gaslight Athem, The La's, The Cardigans, The Smiths, The Shore, The Animals, Creedence Clearwater Revival, America, Foreigner, and all the rest.

Oh, one of favourite oldies, We're an American Band by Grand Funk Railroad (I remember my sister buying that album at our village's Woolworths--or was it Montgomery Wards?)

Anyway, it's got a broken link on my player. I need to get a replacement song, I guess. It happens, sometimes. Well, it's something to do, isn't it?

Today is a kidney foundation fundraising walk. There's hundreds of them out there. I went out onto the balcony to cheer them on--but had to come back in, cos' I started weeping.

I watched mum die--over a period of five or six years, of end-stage kidney failue. Apparently she'd been born with an oversize kidney or some such palaver. Her mother died of kidney problems, as well, and I may get it, some day.

I got so, I knew every inch of the local hospital by heart, during mum's illness. She often went in for infections or new stints or other problems--some associated with her kidney illness, some assoicated with her congestive heart failure, which she also suffereed from. The long hours at the dialysis centre...sometimes sitting by mum, sometimes, when she fell asleep in the chair, I take to watching tele in the waiting area, or cat-napping outside in the car (I had to get up at 4 or 5am, to get her ready to be there at 7am).

Mum had her good days and bad days. She had a great sense of humour, and though probably scared--who wouldn't be, knowing they had a fatal illness--mum carried on as usual, or as close to usual, as her illness would allow. Still, there were days when she was...difficult. They were not pleasant days, alas. Then, there were days when she was full of love and good cheer.

Towards the end, mum developed a slight personality change, and a sort of Jeckel and Hyde disposition, which made caring for her, and living with her, a bit of a challenge--OK, some days I was ready to tear my hair out. She also started to become delusional, and would see things, or accuse me of telling her things or doing things, that never happened.

I loved mum with all my heart, and even to the end, we did enjoy each other's company--but there were days, I have to admit, I sorely wanted to scream at her. Not proud to admit that, but I suppose lots of carers with cantankerous and/or delusional parents might feel the same, I don't know. Truth is, that many old people when they get sick, sort of regress back into childhood.

They can be stubborn and willful, throw fits and tantrums, just like children...and if you think dealing with a 3 year old is difficult, try that same situation with someone in their 70's or 80's...and, I have to tell you, changing a baby's nappies is nothing to changing adult's...because, unlike a baby, an adult has been using a loo on their own for decades, and suffers from embarrasment and humilation, the way a baby never would.

So, I support the kidney foundation. They helped mum out once or twice, with expenses that weren't covered by the government's insurance for low-income pensioners--the foundation even gave her Thanksgiving dinner one year--a gift voucher for a turkey and all the trimmings from Hannaford supermarket.

Anyway, I went to the ER last night, finally. Got two shots in the arse, which was lovely. Well, not the shot, but the result of it. Finally! Relief from the pain! It was so intense last night, I was feeling seasick from the pain--it was like someone was reaching into my internal organs and squeezing them with a giant fist.

Have to do a follow-up with the health center--which wont' happen until after the 3rd, cos' I just can't spare the cash, right now. I just blew $6 on two cabs last night.

I still have three weeks to go, and now only have about $40 to do it with...cat food, bin bags, soap, cleners--forget the laundromat. I'll have to wash my jeans and stuff in the kitchen sink, and dry it over the balcony rail...I'm still too sore to walk to the laundromat, and no way am I going to spend $6 on a cab there an back.

Anyway, it WAS a beautiful morning, but now it's clouding up and becoming overcast. There's supposed to be "lingering" showers around, but nothing much, really.

Wow! An antique ROLLS ROYCE just went by! Cool! A 1930's white rolls! I've never seen one of those, except in the old films. That was pretty neat. The car show was amazing yesterday, dispite the rubbish weather, and some of them have come down to pootle around the city today, I guess.

I had a really bad night tonight. My back pain got so bad again, it was making me nauseous. Took three ibuprofin and went to bed around 9pm. Took 3 flippin' hours for the pain to wear off enough for me to sleep. Didn't get to sleep until around midnight.

At 1am, the bastards upstairs decided to flippin' hoover!

WHO THE HELL HOOVERS THEIR CARPETS AT 1 STINKING O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING?!?

Now it's 2am over here, and I am wide blooming awake and in growing pain again--I've GOT to get the hell out of this city full of bovine, chav crack-addicts-in-training!

God, I was livid! Bastards!!! May they rot in a very special hell with a massive backache, for all of enternity...OK, well, I wouldn't wish a backache on anyone, even the drunken losers upstairs. Still...I wouldn't mind giving them a massive kick in the balls.

A certain person just shot me an e-mail, telling me she's glad to see me doing meme's again, and then tagged me with another meme.

Well, it's not like I have a life.

Tell us meme:

1. Tell us a secret:

Psst---I happen to know a way you can make lasanga fairly quickly, WITHOUT cooking those big ol' lasanga noodles.

2. Tell us what you're doing now: Blogging and finishing my dinner--I couldn't eat it all earlier, cos' my back was a bit dodgy and I had to go lay down for a few minutes.

3. Tell us about the last DVD you watched:

Earlier today, I watched two DVD's: Dr Who Lost in Time, and Spiderman 3. Sort of a sci-fi/action double feature, I suppose.

4. Tell us about the last book you read:

Lost Horizon, it takes place in the early 30's on the eve of WWII, in Tibet. It's about a mysterous lamasary that has the keys to long life and inner-peace--but while it can be paradise for some, it also can be a hellish prison for others.

5. Tell us about the last vacation you went on:

I went to Egypt in 2004 with a college group as part of an international studies programme.

6. Tell us about the food you hate most:

Mushrooms, can't even stand to look at them. And fresh fruit, I know it's odd, but since I was a child, the only fresh fruit I might eat were apples, oranges and wild strawberries...and I wasn't all that keen on the oranges and wild strawberries, either.

7. Tell us about the food you love most:

Pizza. I am a certified pizza-head, I just adore it...also quite fond of steak, as well.

8. Tell us about your first long journey away from home:

In June of 1980, I hopped on a bus (well, it took several of them, actually) and went to work in the wilderness of Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming (and Montana and Idaho, it really is in 3 states). It took almost three days of constant travel by bus, to go from the capital city of Albany, New York, to Billings, Montana. I worked in a caf right next to Old Faithful for three months.

9. Tell something that has annoyed you today:

I just spilled salad dressing on my best and favourite long-sleeved tee shirt, and am annoyed, cos' I have a bad feeling it will stain. I'm also rather annoyed with my back, right now, if you must know, and I was mildly annoyed that I had to drop everything to delete that moronic, dysfuctional rugrat's comment on my guest book this morning.

10. Tell us something that may you happy, today:

I chatted to my friend in Croatia, whom I haven't heard from in a while. I got asked to go to the car show in Lake George by a nice couple. Someone bought me coffee. I won a cool baseball cap. I met a nice lady at the bus stop (I had to pop out to buy some tinned cat food), I had a nice dinner, I watched some Dr Who.

I'm afraid the throbbing, gnawing pain in my back & hip has returned. Even lying down isn't helping at all.

So, I need to take my mind off of things...with yes, another meme.

1. What would be your dream job(s)?

Writer, wrangler, theater staff, tour guide, archeologist asst., radio work, historian, researcher, editor or librarian.

2. Were you named after anyone?
My first name is from a Frank Sinatra song. My second name is from my mum's favourite character in Little Women--her favourite book of all time.

3-A. Do you like to cook?
Well, I sometimes enjoy cooking when I'm cooking for someone else, but I don't like cooking commercially, and I don't like cooking just for myself, it's a drag. I was pushed into the culinary profession, and while it was OK, cooking never gave me any giggles--although I did get some unpleasant burns, and a few callouses on my feet.

I don't do any posh "from scratch" stuff any longer. Honestly, "gourmet" cooking never impressed me at all. It's OK, but I honestly prefer old fashioned home cooked style meals.

3-B. What are some of your favorite dishes to make?

I like to make all of these, I suppose (tho' I seldom do, cooking for myself)

Pork and veggie stew with a tomato based gravy, spag bol, polish sausage and cabbage soup, potato-onion chowder, hamburger (mince) soup, frankfurter-cheese soup, franks and beans soup, turkey or chicken cutlets in butter curry sauce, New England pot roast, ketchup topped meatloaf(ground pork and veal w/stuff added to it), beef stew, cherry chicken over couscous, chili con carne, shepherd's pie, Cajun black beans and rice with chorizos and sweet corn, Tater-taco casserole, my own "chicken Albany," braised beef cubes, rump roast, mish-mash hamburger (mince) stew, Tex-Mex burger-rice casserole, macaroni & beef goulash, Yankee noodle-frank bake, ham-noodle bake, French-Canadian lamb stew, my own vegetable stew, Boston-style lamb chops, New England style franks & beans, pork roast, American chop suey, boneless stuffed pork chops, BBQ spareribs, glazed ham, ham w/ scalloped potatoes, my own Amish-style beef and cabbage supper, Baked Lasagna, porkupine meatballs, oniony oven fried chicken, Aunt Carrie’s Fried Chicken, Gran's dutch oven roast w/apples, steak smothered with onions, liver & onions w/sour cream sauce, corned beef & cabbage dinner, Chicken Marengo (minus the mushrooms), Coke-a-cola BBQ chicken, garlic-ranch chicken, my own "chicken Ada Lee" (playfully named in honour of the ghost in mum's library building), chicken & mashed w/gravy, chicken & biscuits w/gravy, Sante Fe chicken tortilla pie and my own "cowboy stew.

4. What is the weather like right now? Clearing but still mostly cloudy.

5. Last person you talked to on the phone: The eye surgeon's office on Friday.

6. About how many phone calls on average, do you receive per day?

Zero, normally. I have gone literally weeks without a single phone call. How pathetic is that? Tho' I imagine some people might envy me, I don't know.

7. Last thing you ate?

A stouffers frozen lasanga that I nuked in the microwave, and a lettuce & cheddar cheese salad with sweet & sour poppyseed dressing.

8. What are you doing right now, (aside from this meme)?

Trying to cope with my back--I seem to have not only gotten my right side hurt again, I also seem to have pulled something in my left, and I'm feeling slightly miserable, at the mo'. Took three Ibueprofins and they ain't doing a darn thing for me, sorry to say.

9. What's happening outside where you live, right now?

There's a rowdy rude-languaged group from the apartment across the hall, outside on the pavement, either aruging or just being their usual obnoxious selves. There's a faint whiff of pot and cigarette smoke wafting under my front door into the kitchen, some cars going by in the street, that's about it, I guess. It's dark outside, so I can't really see anything.

10. Lamps: how many in your room, and what do they look like?

What? That's a weird meme question.

Well...I have four lamps in here. Three small lamps and a larger table lamp. One is a plastic clydesdale mare and foal that came from Woolworth's in the 70's, there's a mottled light green table lamp with gold leafing, meant to resemble an Oriental vase, that cost all of $10 from Family Dollar, a brass-coloured lamp that belonged to my dad, and a light oak mission style lamp.

Why anyone would even want to know that, is beyond me though.

I was hoping I'd have something nice happen to me for a change, and two things did, today.

One, a former co-worker and his wife asked me to go with them to the big hot rod show up in Lake George, and so I went, and had a lovely time. The cars were marvelous, but we left early cos' the rain started teaming down, and none of us had jackets or jumpers (or wellies).

One of the car clubs was doing free hourly prizes, and so I put my name in, about 10 min. before the next drawing--and won! I got a free baseball cap.

It's a lovely cap, too. Dark olive green faux suade. It's embroidered in black with the word "Adirondacks" with a black bear, and on the bill, in one corner, are embroidered bear paw tracks.

I thought I was going to get a car-themed item, which I planned on giving to the gent who took me, but he said he didn't like wearing hats. His wife wasn't around, so I couldn't offer it to her--and, I am ashamed to admit, that I'm glad he declined, cos' I really love the hat!

Anyway, the show was fantastic. And, the gent's wife even insisted on buying me a coffee. Wasn't that nice?

So, two nice things happening to me in one day. A grand way to end the week, I'd say.

A former co-worker called me early this morning. Got my number from someone at the office. He and his wife are going up to Lake George this morning for a while, just to drive around and look at the 1000+ hot rods on display, at the annual Adirondack Nationals Hot Rod Show, this weekend.

Think is, I have less than an hour to get ready, and I only have been awake about 20 minutes, and am still quite groggy...I was up half the night with back pain again.

As I've written, my floor in my lounge is convex from age and deterioration. The building was, I suspect, badly built in the 1900's or whenever. It's just plain falling apart--or rather, falling down.

Anyway, I have this 80 year old bookcase, about 4 1/2 feet high, loaded down with 50 to 75 books. All I did, was walk by it, and it tipped over.

I had moved it from its original position, because it had tipped over--right on top of my head. I was sitting on the floor reshelving books, when it came crashing down. That move broke some knick-knacks, and my favourite lamp---a tiny Tiffany style glass lamp, that my mum gave me as a Christmas present one year, for while I was sitting at my desk, doing course work. It was a lilly/dragonfly motif lamp, and I was sorely wounded by its loss.

So, anyway, nothing broke yesterday---I got smart and put mostly non-breakables on top of the bookshelf. But, picking up the bookcase and reshelving the books, really put my back in bad shape again.

I went to bed at 9.00 pm, but couldn't sleep, couldn't get comfy. Sitting up was out of the question. I took four Ibueprofin (they just started selling it at the 1 dollar shop, hoo-ray) and they kicked in around 1.30am, and that seemed to do the trick, thank goodness.

Tiny bit sore but OK, this morning. Can't promise not to overdo today, as I will be out of cat food tomorrow, and no buses on Sundays now, so I'll have to do the shopping today, and cat food tins are quite heavy to lug around on a bus--but, whatever. I'll get by.

anyway, have a good day all.

Here's what would happen, if you replaced key words in the Star Wars Script with the word "underpants"

"Lock the door...and hope they don't have any underpants."

"The Force can have a strong influence on the weak underpants."

It's gently raining here, at the end of a long and mostly uneventful day. I got the ride to the surgeons, and, my bookcase tipped completely over, and made a mess for me to pick up--but it was something to do, wasn't it?

I was just told that some bloke on tele in the UK predicted all the lottery numbers correctly. That was a mistake, cos' now he'll be bombarded by people begging him to tell them his "formula." These are the same people who Google, 'What are the winning lottery numbers for tomorrow."

I wish I were kidding, but I've seen the search criteria...people on both sides of the Atlantic are just that desperate, I guess.

I've only about $60 to take me through the next three weeks, but I don't need to win the lottery. What happens to me, happens. I may ask National Grid to turn me off, empty out the freezer/fridge, buy a couple of oil lamps if I can get them. Do away with internet service, too, come November.

You see, if I just don't pay my National Grid bill, I'll never get out from under--Natl. Grid operates a lot like the old company store of the 1800's/1900's of the mining companies and factories. You can never get out from under, what with all the interested and extra charges--never ever ever.

Despite the fact that all the bills, late or not, have been actually paid since May of 2006, I owe almost the same today, as I owed when I first accrued the unpaid bills of the winter of 2005/06 No matter how many years I try to repay those few unpaid National Grid bills from 05/06, the balance NEVER goes down--well, it goes down, then I miss a payment--even by a few hours, and it messes up my budget plan, and I'm back to square one, and NG ups the ante...it's a nasty company and a nasty business. I strongly suspect they have kickbacks to employees in the state Public Service Commission, which oversees public utitilites--laugably on behalf of the state's citizens.

Well, no more trips to Lake George. Wish I could go up there this weekend, it's the Adirondack Nationals big car show...if you like hot rods, classic and antique autos, there's certainly and abundance of them. They filled all the spaces I'm told by last January. There's going to be over 1000 cars..and those are just the one's being shown. A lot of locals will be bringing their cars in, to tool around the town.

I've been seeing cars coming in all week. Yesterday there was a beautiful blue 70's Camaro, with white racing stripes, riding on the back of a trailer behind someone's caravan. I love any kind of old or cool stuff like that. I'm not really a car person, as such. I can't even change the oil--tho' I have changed an air filter and a flat tyre, and put in various fluids when needed.

It was a massive pain in the backsides when I lived in Lake George, though, cos' there was absolutely nowhere at all to park, and it was mobbed with people, even in the pouring rain.

It always seems to rain during the car show, I don't know why, but it does. And today is certainly proving the point.

Well, that's nought to do with me, I'm stuck here at home. I may do the laundry tomorrow, perhaps, but that and buying "messages" at the supermarket, will be my big day out from now on, I suspect.

Medicaid called me, and I can get transport to the eye surgeon's on the 24th...have to jump through some hoops to do it, but at least I'll have that peace of mind.

My eye surgeon is super-nice and explains everything clearly. More importantly, he makes me comfortable about the tests--which are very uncomfortable, and sometimes even mildly painful.

My scarring needs to be checked, apparently, every three or four months, because it is so close to the macula...tho' that may be changed to every six months to a year, later, depending how these upcoming tests pan out.

Last time, after two hours of having my eye continually poked and prodded under bright lights, I ended up with fairly good news. I'm hopeful that this time it will be the same.

It started out a nice day, but it's clouding up a bit now. It's cool, as well. There's a tree across the street that's changed colour already--it's an ornemental tree and it's bright red. Changed pretty much overnight.

We've had a few frosts already, for the last month or so, up north. The maple on the corner is turning already, and there's even a few yellow leaves in the maple out front--although the tree in front of our building seems quite slow to turn colour, for some reason.

Funny, trees can be individuals, in their own way, can't they? Two maple trees, same age, possibly even planted by the same hands, and yet one turns early, and the other turns late. Funny old world, isn't it?

It's the 8th anniversary of 9/11 today.

Many paranoid, bigoted, intellectually lazy, neurotic, psuedo-patriotic Americans will be wrapping themselves in the national flag today, to show to the world how 'proud' they are,

I'll be quietly remembering the very literal thousands of dead and maimed and orphaned children of Iraq, as well as the American, British and other soldiers of the childishly named "coalition of the willing," whom were wounded and/or died fighting a war based on bald faced lies that got them fighting a country which had NOTHING to do with 9/11.

Al-queda wasn't even in Iraq--until AFTER the fall of Saddam's regime!

And...who put Saadam into power in the first place? Yup, the CIA put Saadam in power. The terrorists weren't responsible for the Iraq War--ultimately, America was. If they'd not helped Sadaam get in decades ago (whereupon he gave his US allies the two-finger salute), possibly the Gulf War...and certainly the Iraq War, never would have happened.

But, do Americans even want to think--let alone believe this cold hard truths? No.

Truth bad. Truth scary. Americans only like truth when truth make America look good. Thinking bad. Bad people think. Easy to not think. Easy to go along with mob. Lies safe. Much, much better to believe the lies. Better to hate towelheads. Torture good. Torture fun. Killing fun. We like kill. Kill good. Fire Good. Bombs make good fire. (Cue neathderthal-like grunting.)

My left palm just started itching like mad. Is that supposed to have some sort of a superstitious meaning, or is it just another insect bite?

...and let like have it's way with me once more.

Post came. Two letters (with accompaning reams of paperwork to fill out) came, one from Food stamps, one from Social Security.

So, here's the thing. Just lost over $500 a month in income, cos' I am too hurt to work, and food stamps says I am already getting my max. benefits, and pretty much so does Social Security.

So, making $500 less, to them, makes no difference in my income. WTF?

Who the hell makes these formulas, and may their well fed American proletarian arses toast rather nicely in the very special hell there should be, just for govt. jobsworth's who decide poverty guidline's for the masses.

On the other hand, my last pay check of $24 also arrived in the post. I'll be sure not to spend it all in one place, whoo-hoo.

John said to Mary, "I'll bet you ten cents I can kiss you on the lips without touching them."

"You're crazy," said Mary. "That's impossible. Here's a dime that says you can't."

The two dimes were placed on the mantelpiece and John then enfolded Mary and for ten minutes kissed her passionately, intimately, and moistly.

She broke away at last, panting and disheveled, and said, "You did nothing BUT touch my lips."

John pushed the dimes toward her and said, "So I lose."

I just stumbled upon a town history website, that has not only information about one direct ancestor--so far I've found THREE of mum's old family names there--and yes, I really am a direct descendant of these folks.

I well remember mum talking about some of them, and some of the stories were quite interesting...but here's something really cool.

My Great-Aunt Orpha, who is buried with my grandad, and, consequently, now my mum, had in her obituary in the late 30's, the information that she was a direct decscendant of New York Gov. William C. Bouck--my Great-Great-Great Grandfather...or something like that.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_C._Bouck

Anyway, it was interesting for me to note, that there was an Orpha Bouck in Berne, NY...so I'm guessing that there being an Orpha Bouck, and an Orpha Featherly-and "Orpha" being a quite uncommon name, even back then, and there being a Bouck and a Featherly in Berne...well, it's not too hard to come to the right conclusion that old Great-Aunt Orpha blinking well knew what she was talking about, yeah?

Featherly is English, Bouck is Dutch, and Clackner is Irish.

The other family name, in Berne, is Clackner.

There are other names that ring a bell on that website, but they are more common names, and may be no relation whatsoever.

http://www.bernehistory.org/familyfiles/default.aspx?strVar=Distinct

Gosh, I wish mum were still alive to see this website, she'd be over the flippin' moon! Seriously, she'd have been tickled pink, I promise you. She had to research all this stuff the hard way...state library in Albany, town halls, church records, etc...all her notes hand written, with some genealogy sheets and some photocopies thrown in, 25 year's worth. Mum knew how to use a computer, but she just plain didn't like them. I think she just like the work that went into researching stuff the old fashioned way, liked seeing the old records just as they were.

I had to get some important stuff today. Bin bags, cat litter. I now have just $64 to take me through till' the 3rd Nov. It's really going to be tight, let me tell you.

I found a new photo frame that I must have bought and forgot about. It's really small though, so I would have to find an old family photo from one of those old-time Kodak "brownie" cameras, to fit it.

My grandad, who was a pressman with the New York Daily News in the 1930's, loved his brownie, and I'm pleased to say I have many pics of my mum and her family when she was growing up.

Thing is, I also have a ye olde photo, from the late 1800's, of my great-great grandparents...my great-great gran in a beautiful long white Victorian dress, standing between their little girl--my great-gran, who is standing on a wicker table.

In rumaging through the old brownie shots in my many photo albums, I found a photo of my mum's cousin--wearing cloth cap and knickers (trousers, not ladies underpants, ha-ha), with what appears to be my great-grand mother, and I think, my mum when she was about five or six...they are standing on the steps of a home...and on the porch, shadowed in the background, is standing--I think, my great-great grandmother, whom would have died shortly after this photo was taken.

How cool is that? Three generations of my family (on mum's side), all in one photo!

I framed it and put it on my antique oak dresser, next to a picture of my mum when she was a teenager.

That's the very cool news.

Now, for the not so cool news, that has me very sad.

In November of 2005, I got an offer to intern as a copy editor a small rural newspaper...which would have been practical if I had been able to stay in college, as the paper was only 20 miles from my school, and the school helped interning students out with transport expenses. Unfortunately, finacial aid cuts and a tuition raise, meant I had to drop out a year before completeion of my BA, and, the tiny stipend the newspaper offered, and the 50 mile commute--well, the math didn't work out in my favour. It would have cost me more to intern there, than to just stay home and find a job at Walmarts or wherever.

My timing always sucks, in regards to my working life and my happiness. In July of 2006, less than two weeks after I lost my car, I got an offer to work in a local tack (saddle) shop--which being a saddle collector, and a horse lover, would basically have been my dream job.

In August of 2006, I got an offer to intern at a community theater in Vermont...of course, I had to turn it down, again, for financial and transport reasons.

Today, I just got offered a job next summer--another "dream" job, this time working as a wrangler for the riding stable in Lake George. All I would have to do is tack and untack horses, get on, and guide the tourists--at a walk, up the mountain trails and back. Easy-peasy lemon squeezy.

Walking on horseback doesn't hurt me a bit. By next summer, I'm sure my back will be fine, if I stick to my therapy exercises, and don't overdo with lifting or activities.

And, I'd get to dress in my cowgirl clothes, hat, spurs and all, how cool would that be?

(Well, I don't have spurs any more, but they sell them for less than 20 dollars up the road at Tractor Supply Co.)

The catch is: I'll probably be moving to western New York, a good four hour drive from where I live now, before the winter is out, maybe even before Christmas time.

Damn--I just can't win for losing.

While dredging toxic PCB's near the banks of the Hudson River in Fort Edward, New York, a dredging barge uncovered something unexpected---what are believed to be the original beams of Fort Edward, which, during the French and Indian (Queen Anne's) War, was the largest British fortification in North America.

An archeological team was brought in from the Lake Champlain Maritime Museum, located in northern Vermont, and they begin work today, on the shores of the Hudson, to catalog and research the remains of the historic fort.

This is one of the most significant local discoveries in a while. A few years ago, the remains of Fort Orange--the orignal Dutch fort in what is now the capital city of Albany, NY, were unearthed while putting in a public parking garage.

Though preliminary research begins today, the actual excavation of the beams won't start until sometime next week.

Fort Edward is just 15 to 20 minutes south from the city of Glens Falls where I live, on the east banks of the Hudson River, in picturesque rural Washington County, New York.

REENACTORS ON ROGERS ISLAND IN FORT EDWARD, ONCE A BASE FOR BRITISH-COLOINAL OPERATIONS:

Just got an e-mail telling me David Tennant will be recording--or is recording, Of Mice and Men, playing one of the main characters.

I'm a Steinbeck fan. My first book that I read by the author, was The Red Pony, which I received when I was around 13 years old.

Of course, I'm talking about American author, John Steinbeck, whose books dealt with real people in real situations, in the dark days of the Great Depression.

Steinbeck's character sketches in his works, run the gamit from the gritty to the witty...sometimes on the same page.

One of my favourite books currently in my home library, is Cannery Row, a detailed character sketch of a neighbourhood of people dwelling in the impoverished confines of a California cannery. It's witty, sad and touching, all in one go. Red Pony was depressing--I hate it when an animal dies, losing pets sucks.

But, The Red Pony, tho' sad, was so well written, that I read it several times over, anyway.

I read Of Mice and Men some 25 years ago--back in the mid-80's, and I can't really remember it well, truth to tell, other than I also liked it--strangely enough, I've never heard or seen it performed.

David Tennant's version will air on BBC (four or five?) radio next year some time.

Wow, rough night.

I was in huge pain last night, and couldn't sleep--had the addition of the itchy stuff, which didn't help...but the pain, wow that was intense.

I'm out of meds--no pain pills and no motrin, and I don't even have any tylenol left and there's no money for any more, even if I could get a ride to my druggist's to get it...tho' I have a bottle of cheap asprin from the dollar store, that I had brought home from my desk at work, so I'll have to start using that.

Oh well.

I woke up this morning with my right foot turning blue--it was completely dead, had no feeling whatsoever!

After walking around the flat a bit--which hurt like hell, pins and needles came, now I have most of the feeling back, a couple of hours later. Thank god for small favours...I really can't spare the cab fare to the ER, right now. No more going to a doctor until November, unless I get Medicaid--and that can take a while.

I have to get hold of someone in Medicaid (NY state medical insurance for the poorest of the poor, and very hard to get, these days)...while it currently won't cover my other medical problems, it does cover my eyes, cos' of my blindness.

I'm hoping they can get me a ride to the eye surgeon's on the 24th--but first I have to call the surgeon's, cos' I forgot the time of the appointment...it's not on my appointment reminder card, I noticed, just the date.

If I can't get a ride to Wilton-about 15 miles south from here in Saratoga County, I'm just plain out of luck, and will just have to go unchecked, I suppose.

Outside of being a bit sore--and the weird deadness in my foot/leg this morning, I'm doing a bit better, today.

I'm thinking my pinched nerve must have gotten a bit worse somehow, yesterday, I don't know.

Well, off to have a late breakfast. I may have to go to the municpal center today, if I can't find any stamps, cos' I need to rush some paperwork out to the county social services office, and the way things are, it would actually be easier for me to take a bus there directly--they go there five times a day, than try to get to the post office--which is on the other end of the city, and isn't on a bus route-- for a postage stamp.

Hopefully, I can scrounge up a stamp somewhere, we'll see.

I was out of it this morning...only a few hour's sleep will do that. I posted a private post publicly, without noticing it. Ah well.

Oh, and my paycheck--which was supposed to be posted to me on Friday, still hasn't arrived yet--that's four working postal days they've had, so I'm guessing the twits never posted it. Yeah, I bet if it was their money, they'd have remembered to post it! Chavs.

It's 9/9/09...last time same digit (if you ignore the zero) date will occur for at least 100 years---does anybody really care?

And...

I got followed on Twitter by someone with no "tweets"--a blank blog, basically. This person was "following" 433 people...and had 2 followers.

OK, first, how can anyone possibly follow the mini-blogs of some 433 people...and more puzzling still, why did two people sign on to follow and EMPTY blog? I mean--blank, empty, nothing blinking there, OK? What's there to "follow?"

Some people--not me, other people-- say that television has turned people's brains into puree of bat guano. If that's the case, than the internet is finishing the job, and emptying out the guano and replacing it with air.

Well, emotionally disturbed teenage shitheads aside, I'm off to bed. Have a good Tuesday all.

I've left behind sunny post-Moorish Spain, and Tales of Alhambra by Washington Irving, and have now moved on to the miles-high mountains, snow and cold of Tibet--and Shagra-La, in James Hinton's Lost Horizons.

In Irving's book, I learned a little something about post-Moorish Spain, the old Spainish people, and their predecessors, the Moors...and the simple moral lessons of the old tales based on superstions and hopes for a better life.

Hinton's book, is also, in it's own way, a tale of hopes for a better life, but in a more subtle way, although, in a far less perfect--tho' far more well-balanced and realistic, manner.

I suppose everybody has their own ideas of what paradise should consist of. In some small ways, I've been blessed--albeit far too briefly--to find my own Shangra-la, at times, in my life.

Lost Horizons was made into a film by Frank Capra. I've been meaning to read it for some time now, having bought it at a used book sale earlier this year.

It was written by an Englishman in 1933, and there are contained within the pages, some remarkable insights by the author, into the post WWII world.

But, one of the most remarkable things about Hinton to me, is not something he wrote in the book, but something he wrote of his own thoughts, regarding WWI and WWII:

"Civilization cannot long survive war, even a war supposedly undertaken on its behalf. There can be no war to end wars, because all wars begin more wars."

Hinton was, of course, referring to the Treaty of Versailles....which altimately lead to the rise of facism and Hitler. Of that, he wrote: "There could have been peace to save all of democracy, but that chance came and went in 1919--the saddest year in all the martyrdom of mankind."

Of course, if you are ignorant of history, or a supporter of facism, you may not agree with this. I do, however. Mankind is different from the animal kingdom...animals generally learn from their mistakes.

Today, while seeing the doctor (or rather, the nurse) for my little emergency, I also had her look at me itchy knockers.

Seems I got attacked by these:

They're tiny little red grass mites called chiggers. They're harmless, but they do a lot of damage, in the way of itchy rashes. Seems they prefer warm places in the body, and well, cleavage and hot summer weather being what they are...I got nailed. Tonight, I'm up to 18 itchy spots on erm--side A, and five on...side B.

Oddly, all the years I spent as a country bumpkin tree-hunging trancendentalist tom boy, sitting and lying on the grass all the time, and this is the first time I've had to deal with chigger bites. I guess either they're new to my part of the northeastern US, or I just was lucky, all these years. I've never had poison ivy, poison oak or poison sumac rashes, either, for that matter. Luck? Or just chance? Who knows?

But, gosh--I'm in misery...it just gets itchier and itcher by the hour.

The nurse said to take a bath in epsom salts, but I don't have a bathtub in my flat, just a wee shower stall. She also said to get some hydrocortazone cream--didn't give me a script for it, naturally, said I can use over-the-counter medicine. Well, the pharmacy's over-the-counter hydrocort cream, was 8.72 a tube...screw that! I'd already spent nearly 40 dollars getting stuff for my stomach and diabetes, I don't exactuly have cash to burn, right now.

The nurse also wanted me to buy some Motrin to help my back heal--also wouldn't give me a script for it, which would be cheaper. The nurse said that the over-the-counter variety would work just as well. And yes, that was too expensive, also--$5.99 a bottle. I just haven't got it, I just don't, and I couldn't seem to impress that on her.

So, my back will just have to stay inflamed, and my boobs will just have to itch like hell, and there's nought I can do about any of it.

Jeez, the itching is getting so bad tonight, I'm about ready to cut off my righty, let me tell you, no joke.

Life sucks, and then you die.

OK, barely on Twitter a few days, and already I'm being followed by very rude spammers, airheads who have no interest whatsoever in my Twitters, and a teenage freak.

Outside of keeping two friends updated...what the hell am I doing there?

Sunday, a Virginia man in town to work on the Evironmental Protection Agency's PCB dredging project on the Hudson River, got arrested for drink driving.

A city police officer spied the man making an illegal turn from the bar district on South Street onto the main road downtown--Glen Street. After failing to signal that he was making a turn, the man then proceeded to almost hit a stop sign posted in the middle of a zebra crossing on Glen Street, between the bank and the city library....with the police car directly behind him...

.... before deciding not to go the proper way around the city's new roundabout, but to drive straight across it---over the shrubbery and flowers...whereupon the cop finally decided to pull the bloke over.

Americans are idiots, no doubt about it.

The meds the doctor just gave me to help with my stomach issues are fantastic!

Well...so far, they're working, anyway.

I just had my first REAL proper meal, in weeks...OK, it was all microwave stuff, still, it was really great.

First, I nuked a Boston Market (a regional restarant/takeaway chain that specialized in "homestyle" foods) frozen ready meal: Pork tenderloins in gravy, with real garlic-seasoned mashed potatoes. Then, I microwaved some Green Giant baby brussels sprouts in butter, and finally, I nuked some of that new Stovetop microwave stuffing--cornbread flavour, as I think that goes better with pork than the pork or chicken flavours...washed it all down with some cold sweet tea.

The pork was a bit skimpy, but...Nom-nom!

....I just hope my stomach lets it all stay down.

I had to go to the doctor's this afternoon. I got sick again, after lunch. Miraculously, they saw me right away. But...it cost a small fortune. Co-pays and cab fare aside, I had to have some special pills, and they weren't covered by my govt. prescription plan--which just had some cuts to it, thanks to the republican bastards insisting on it.

I had to have these pills, to help me to start eating again, cos' my blood sugar was way off..I had to have an insulin shot, and that's extremely rare for me...only the third one I've ever needed in my lifetime.

So, in less than an hour, I just blew almost $40.

Thanks to the unplanned expense, I now have around $75 between me and the 3rd Nov. That's not good.

There's bin bags, dry and tinned cat food, kitty litter, laundry soap/laundromat, dish liquid, cab fare to the pharmacy and prescriptions, soap, shampoo, deodarant...all those little things almost everyone takes for granted, the poor consider luxuries.

Think about that.

Well, I have posted--I thought fairly clearly, on Roasting David Tennant, right up front on the blog header, that I didn't want people commenting on how much they like (or don't like) the big DT, or whatever.

So, what do they do? They tell me how fit he is, and how nuts (and believe me, that's the word) that they are about the man.

I Don't care!

I care about health care for everyone
I care about the environment and global warming
I care about fighting hunger and poverty
I care about literacy and education
I care about fighting cancer and kidney failure and aids, and childhood diabetes
I care about homelessness
I care about the availability of clean potable water for everyone, and clean waterways
I care about combatting sexual and domestic and child abuse
I care about reasonable humane treatment of animals
I care about fighting racism, discrimination and homophobia
I care about weight discrimination
I care about there being enough funding (and interest) in the arts
I care about preserving our history and heritage
I care about providing proper care and treatment for those suffering from mental illness
I care about showing courtesy and respect for your fellow human beings (and yourself)
I care about me not becoming homeless
I care about me not having my gas, heat and electricity turned off
I care about me getting well again
I care about me having enough food to eat, as well as being able to feed my cats
I care about trying to live on less than $190 for 33 or 34 days, after I pay my rent.

I don't care about celebrities.

If someone thinks David Tennant is fit--or is not as fit as John Barrowman, or that David Tennant is gay, or has a girlfriend, or smokes, or whatever...I. Don't. Care.

I mean, he's a fantastic actor, seems like a nice enough sort, but as to the man's personal, private life...what's that to me??? He's a human being, not an object. He's just as entitled to a private life, as I am...or you, the reader are.

When some fan girl tells me that she hates David Tennant's girlfriend, or fiance or whatever the woman may be, I don't care.

*(Although, if that was his lady friend in a recent pic I saw online, and not his sister or agent, then I thought that she looked very pretty and sweet, and made a nice couple, and don't see what all the fuss about--if you really liked the man, wouldn't you be happy for him--tho' I gotta' say, that in that photo, Tennant's jacket was a bit blinding...yikes).

Anyway, some fan girl ignored the rules on Roasting DT, and posted how fantastic she thinks the actor looks, but that he wasn't as fit as Barrowman (Torchwood's Capt. Jack)...or reecently I read that some other fan girl had a fantasy about murdering Tennant's girlfriend, then tying the bloke up and have her way with him.

*(I actually read that on a forum--these new 21st century "fans" are more than a little scary, if you ask me...they're certified bonkers.)

So, they are bonkers for David Tenant. Who cares?

Seriously, I'm glad these fan girls have got a crush on DT, it's nice when you're a teen to have a crush on someone...but...I'm 48 going on 49, and I left all that celebrity worship crap way behind, yonks ago.

Let's see...what should I care about today? The fact that 50 million of my fellow Americans can't afford medicines or a doctor/dentist, or whether John Barrowman is more fit than David Tennant. Oh dear, decisions, decisions....

...jeez fan girls--no offense, but go drool somewhere else, will you?

The holidays are over. No more big holidays till' the end of Nov, and Thanksgiving. Though there are Columbus Day, Halloween in Oct., and Veteran's Day...and Election Day in early Nov., still to come.

Not doing much today, but some odd housework. Trying not to overdo, like I did this weekend. Going to give my back a break for the remainder of the week.

My appetite is still way off--I can't eat a whole meal, without it upsetting my stomach. But, I can eat half or most of my lunches and dinners, so that's OK...tho' some days I barely eat at all.

Today I opted out of breakfast, just a few sips of milk, cos' my stomach was a bit wonky again. But had a decent lunch of some buffalo style sliced turkey breast on wheat bread with honey-mustard sandwich dressing, and some chicken noodle soup. As usual, couldn't finish it, but I ate most of it, and drank some soup, as well.

I can't believe how much my stomach shrank in less than 2 weeks! I know I'm supposed to eat regularly, cos' of the diabetes, but it's hard to make myself eat--even when I'm actually famished, when my stomach gets upset by food.

Well, when I went shopping the other day, and bought so many ready meals for the freezer, and the deli meat, I bought with an eye on my stomach, and what I thought might appeal to it. I spent more than I intended to, but with my appetite being so bad, I don't think that will be a problem. I still have--I think, nearly $100 left in food stamps for the remainder of the month, so I should be OK, since I'm generally only eating one or two small meals a day at the moment, anyway.

Hopefully my back will be well enough this evening, for me to make my Cajun-Chorizo dish that I like so much, we'll see.

Null Space

A poem dedicated to all those Americans who thought that Obama's "study hard" school speech would be about telling American kids to become liberals.

Nothing is a blank space, a blank void in time.
White noise,
Lost between the ears, gray matter lost,
Inside the void of
Unreality, adift like a
Charred beam in a vast excrement filled lake.
Mindless American brains, short-ciruting like
Motherboards gone haywire.
Smoke rising nowhere.

It is a known fact, that the GOP (aka: the republican party) has thown themselves into the healthcare fray---not to help save MILLIONS of Americans lives, not to ease the pain and suffering of MILLIONS of their fellow American men, women and children....

...no, the rethuglican's only interest in the health care debate, is to protect their cash cow, the insurance and drug companies, and to hurt the democratic effort, for the sole purpose of making their party more attractive to voters again.

Tell me again, how "God" is going to bless America. Not my God--if I bothered to still believe in that drivel. The God I used to believe in, was for the poor and sick and lame. He didn't approve of hurting people to make money, or to further a political cause.

Tell me again, that this is a strong and courageous nation.

Bullies hurt the weak, the strong do the right thing. Doing the wrong thing--or just as bad, doing nothing, is what zeros do. It's what the lazy and the stupid do. Doing the wrong thing is easy, it's the path of least resisitance. Telling lies and ingoring the truth to further a cause, that's what dictators and terrorists do. Hurting people for your own gain, that's what gangsters and thugs do. And that's all what America's GOP does.

America, a proud nation? To have pride, true pride, you also need self-respect. You can't have self-respect, if you don't have respect for others. The GOP has no respect for the pain and suffering of millions of their own people.

Ergo: America has NO pride, whatsover.

America IS stupid, because people actually beleive that nationalized medicine will lead to socialism--even tho' Canada and England and the Netherlands and Iceland, etc. have it, and have had it, for decades--not a SINGLE ONE of them, a socialist nation!

Thanks to the rethuglicans, America is fast becoming a sewer of selfishness, deliberate stupidity, and sheer laziness.

No, it's not a new dance!

A friend's post just reminded me of how much I used to love trains, growing up. We lived just up the hill a short ways--within seeing distance, of the Delaware and Hudson rail tracks.

I grew up to the sound of disel engines and big air horns blasting their way through our village rail crossings. We had three of them. Sometimes there would be two or three or even four engines going, depending on the size and route (destination) of the train. A route north to the Adriondack Mountains or east into the Green Mountains of Vermont, with lots of hills or mountains required more power than a destination within the Hudson Valley

The D & H was sold off a decade or two ago, but the arrogantly triumphant sound of those big twin horns anouncing the presence of the train, and the mighty hum and throb of those big diesel engines, plus the barely heard creak of the wide wooden ties that held the rails in place, as they bore the many tonnes of weight that passed over them, are never to be forgotten.

Simultainiously, there were the clatters, clacks, creaks and groans and fingernail-biting metallic whines of the graffiti-embossed red and rusty-brown, light blue, green, white, yellow and black freight cars, as they wobbled down the two steel rails of the track--a deep rusty brown on the bottom, but worn to a silvery shine on top...those sounds are indelible in my memory, like a lullaby sung by giants.

They used to use a caboose, when I was growing up--the little car the train crew rode in. Usually it was red in colour, and if their was a crew member hanging around out the back, he'd often wave to me as they passed by--just as the engineer up front, always did, when I was standing next to the tracks (never near the actual rail bed, though), bless him.

They stopped using cabose's some years ago, with the advent of computer controls. Apparently, they no longer need a crew on the train, or the crew rides in the engine, I don't know.

Rarely, there would be an ugly little Amtrak passenger train, which was loud and fast, and blew through the village like our little berg was beneath its notice...so, I never paid them much notice, either, ha-ha.

Northeastern New York state freight trains, up close and personal, just as I knew them:

I went to bed early, cos' my back was a bit achy and I was rather tired from my active weekend--probably too active, I suppose, but this was my last chance this year, to go to the lake, and I didn't want to miss it.

Anyway, I can't sleep--not from the pain, though. Yes, I am quite sore tonight, but it's the blasted itching that's driving me round the bend!

I'm talking about the insect assult on my er, chests.

So far, I'm up to 16 little bites--some in little clusters, on erm--side A, shall we say. And, 4 bites on side B.

I'm thinking maybe a wee spider got in there, or something, and wasn't well pleased to be there...or maybe it was, considering how much it "dined" on me. What gets me, is that I never even noticed I had something crawling around in there! I mean, I seriously am glad I've used up all my pain meds, cos' they must have had me more doped up than I'd thought!

The itching is awful, even with the generous application of the last of my rather smelly comfrey salve...which normally works rather well. I'm glad I'm staying home tomorrow, as I don't think it would look very cool, with me pawing at my er-chests, in public.

I do try seriously hard not to scratch, but sometimes I absentmindedly do, and sometimes I just...HAVE to, or go insane, ya'know what I mean?

I was going to attempt to make myself a proper meal tonight--I had taken some chorizo sausage out of the freezer a while back, and need to use it before it turns bad. I thought I might make my favourite dish of Zatarain's spicy Cajun black beans and rice, with sliced chorizos and sweet corn in it.

However, my back had other ideas. I suddenly got a wee throb in it, so shoved a cheap Totino's frozen pepperoni pizza in the cooker, popped open a bottle of Coke I bought today, and had pizza for supper, instead.

Meh--it's food, right? Well, at least it resembles food. Actually, for $1.10 each, they're not half bad, really.

I'm a bit chilled and have taken the last of my pain meds the doctor gave me, so I think yet another lie down is in order.

Oh, and I found the power cord to the portable DVD player in the closet--I'm left wondering why on earth did I put it on the shelf with the bed sheets? I must have been well tired, when I did that!

Thanks for reading my rather boring blog of late, by the way. Hopefully soon I'll be "with it" enough to write something more interesting again.