Originally posted on This, that, - - - and the other thing:

Police Station


Sorry about yesterday.

I was supposed to tell you how our (me and the two whiners; Joe and Bob) Thanksgiving day went.

So here is what happened.

Of course the turkey was burned – – – not to a crisp but rather crunchy and the black stuff hung onto our fingers. Bob was insisting that we use a knife and fork. Holy cow, what a sissy he turned out to be. So Joe and I just ripped off a drumstick or a wing – – – or whatever we wanted. The charred greasy stuff washed off our fingers with no trouble at all.

Bob, after a few too many Southern Comfort Manhattans, managed to stab himself in the hand while he was trying to slice off some white meat. (Joe and I told him not to be screwing around with the fork and the knife – – – but…

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Originally posted on This, that, - - - and the other thing:


Turkey thawed three days ahead of time (thanks poultry manglers for putting this hint on the plastic bag that you shrunk wrapped around the bird). I am not sure if I should have put it in the refrigerator to thaw but it took a long time and really wasn’t in my way on the countertop.

It also said “wash turkey” and this turned out to be a rather simple process. That is why they put that plastic thing on the turkey’s feet. I tied a rope around this plastic do-dad and hung it from the clothes line. Then I hosed it down (after I thawed out the water hose which was almost frozen shut).

While I was doing this I found out what great guys these poultry manglers were. They put a bunch of bear lure in a bag. It was presented to me just as I finished…

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GHOST TOWNS; for your Halloween pleasure

However scarey this may or may not be, I am sure there will be ghost towns in the future; just like there have been in the past.

– – – –  like the following two.

But  PLEEEAASE!   Strart the music up first.

NOW- – –  the last one – – – TAHAWUS! – – – –OOOOOOOoooooooooooooooo



Originally posted on This, that, - - - and the other thing:

opening day

It was ten in the evening,

on March thirty first,

my equipment uninspected,

I dreaded the worst.


Imagining rotted line, rusty swivels,

and old dead bait,

I knew when I hit the sack,

it would be very late.


It took time to feed the kids, hug them,

and put them to bed,

fix the washer, gas the car, and – – oh yes,

the dogs had to be fed.


Call the old folks, say hello, and – –

my neighbor wanted to talk,

find my license, cap and coat, and – –

take the wife for a walk.


But when that was all done, and – –

I had time for myself,

I retrieved the pole and waders,

from the top of the shelf.


And talk about dumb luck,

not a thing was awry,

except that the tip of the rod,

was missing an eye.

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Originally posted on This, that, - - - and the other thing:

Karl Marx Profile

Herr Marx told me, before he died,

That he saw capitalism with an appetite so wide,

That it could never be satisfied.


So he built a philosophy, a social theory,

That was so altruistic; it made my eyes teary,

But woe and alas, the Academy remained leery.


Well, round and round went the interpretations,

Creating worldwide chaos, and revolutionary vibrations,

Shaking both monarchies and industrial nations.


But capitalism remains rampant, to this day,

And 99% of us work for hourly pay,

Are panoptics and surveillance here to stay?


Inner conflicts ad strife are a proposed solution,

Tried and true methods, of every revolution,

Experimentation continues in each Academic institution.


So do not engage Capitalistic destruction,

Own a machine, or engage in profitable production,

And tune in to Rush Limbaugh, for daily instruction.

Rush Limbaugh Teaching


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Cormac McCarty’s Ghast

Originally posted on This, that, - - - and the other thing:

Deteriorated Castle


I found the manuscript among old and yellowed papers of a home I was hired to clean out. Now, even though I told someone that I was doing the clean out as a favor to him, I am not going to attempt to pass that lie off to you. My real intention was to find a few old coins or baseball cards that I could sell on Craigslist. This is the way I pay for my food and drink; mostly my drink.


The home belonged to one Frank Peauterbaugh, who for nearly thirty years worked as a Systems Programmer in Endicott.


He had croaked.


The manuscript was the only paper that I could read; the others were in some programming language or another. I have never been good at languages. Even failed English in high school. Never had the guts to try anything other than Latin…

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