Saturday, June 30, 2012

You know you're old when...

You are too old to jerk off in a cup....

 Help infertile couples and get paid

Sperm Donors Needed! We are seeking healthy college students and graduates, men of ages 18-39 of all ethnic backgrounds.

On Strike

Someone asked me why I was sleeping in the parking lot and I told them I was on strike against my employment agency. I got assigned a job a ways north and I drove there expecting an 8 hour gig and got 4 hours. The tile setter had fucked up the arrangement of new tiles and I tore them up faster than they had anticipated, saving some and tossing the rest, badly bruising my right calf on the dumpster and breathing more mortar dust than legally allowed by God. Brand new building. $25,000 mistake. Oggy's total payment after Uncle Sam's mexican mordida was $27. Problem is that it cost me $32 in gas to get there and back. So if I had taken the day off and walked down to Tacos More and bought $5 worth of barbacoa and Jarritos it would've been the exact same financial outcome. Of course, minus the bleeding face from flying chips of tile. It was actually the most laughably lopsided ticket I've ever had from any day labor operation. I seriously laughed when Kourtney handed me the check. Her indifference was priceless as she clicked shoe styles on the computer. The best is that I lost more money when I went to the Pakistani grocer's to cash the check. So I decided to strike because I'm a disgusting Communist.

Friday, June 29, 2012

Presidential Custom Work

LBJ...he wasn't all bad. His war on poverty probably helped four or five people.

Dreaded cam switch

The workshop (not pictured is the 101 degree heat or the patrol car watching my every move)

Engineering magic. That silver split ring from china lasted a few weeks. I'm replacing it with custom copper flashing. The rubber o-ring was from a prototype failure.

This is as important as most news. I trimmed it further so it wouldn't short the contacts. But it'll fail soon.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Don't Sleep in The Subway


Shortly after I recorded this video the emergency alarms went off in the music building and the entire place was evacuated. I asked those in the stairway if it happens often or if someone was shooting random victims from the bell tower. We plunged into the street not knowing what would happen next. I feel like all of this is giving shuffleboard lessons on board the Titanic. But a part of me thinks that is exactly what life is, a kid comes to you with a splinter on a boat that is sinking...what do you do? You take the splinter out. You teach shuffleboard. You sing gospel songs or Pet Clark tunes. Then the ship sinks. It makes no difference. You can't be like Whitman and think you are going to go on a rampage of mercy and take everyone out of their misery. Fuck it. The boat will sink eventually. Go learn to juggle oranges. I'm gonna go eat tacos and jarritos and watch the fireworks that are really emergency flares.

Gospel Hour

Beside the still waters is not a song I remember from the rescue mission but it's one that sounds good to my ear today.

I shouldn't wallow in the tragedies of the past but these landmarks were on my way to the music practice rooms.
UT bell tower

Memorial Plaque

Memorial Pond
There is a hymn for every life event.

Beside The Still Waters:
Beside the still waters in pastures of green,
The Shepherd is leading where all is serene;
By day and by night He will always be seen
Beside the still waters of peace.
For He's the Good Shepherd who died for the sheep;
His own He has promised to keep.
He lovingly watches and guards while they sleep
Beside the still waters of peace.

Beside the still waters the sheep find their rest;
The Shepherd stands by so that none can molest;
The flock, by His presence, is happy and blest
Beside the still waters of peace
The sheep know His voice and they go not astray,
For Jesus will guide all the way.
In paths that are righteous He leads day by day
Beside the still waters of peace.

Roasted Oggy


Past and future.


I won't be sending this pic to my mom. Notice the fan!

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Self Destruction

The job hunt has brought me to the lip of deadly contradiction. The same electro-mechanical manufacturer that supplies the wind turbine and solar industries also supplies the Military. It's like Philosophy was intentionally disposed of when George Washington divested himself from England. The Hoax that I'm pondering lately is related to America and what it stands for. If we repeat that this is the land of peace freedom and justice enough then maybe we'll forget that you'd be safer, more free, and better represented in Iceland. I read the upsetting tale of Anthony Graves yesterday and it really chilled my heart.

Breakdown Dead Ahead

Heat Index: An index that combines air temperature and relative humidity in an attempt to determine the human-perceived equivalent temperature.
 
Yesterday was a record 109 and it felt like 275. I had to take the key out of the van with a glove on my hand. Horrendous heat that made me feel like a lizard who had been run over in the street. I wanted to chop my own head off to cool my face in my blood.

Today it is a mere 104 and it feels like it is 113 degrees and I'm not sure that is even accurate as it doesn't take into account the radiation from the asphalt. Indescribable heat. Withering. I'm falling asleep in the library from abuse. Exhaustion has set in and only a visit from the police is missing before I sag into a collapse. But they have air conditioning at the mental institution so I'm not worried. It's like the cold in Alaska when my jeans actually froze and cracked because they had some sweat in the fabric. At that temp any moisture in the air becomes ice, ice fog they call it, and when you breath it you involuntarily cough because your lungs reject the frozen air. So people wear masks or grow beards that filter the moisture. Then your beard grows icicles that freeze together and you can't open your mouth. All within 2 minutes and it's amazing how quickly your brain becomes single purposed on survival. That is the kind of heat I'm dealing with here, the kind of heat that leads me to a parking lot where I'm pouring hose water over my body totally oblivious to the lines of children waiting to take their driving school lessons. A man doesn't think clearly in this kind of heat but I'm thinking clearly enough to have quit any manual labor for the rest of the summer. I'll slice chicken breasts with scissors on an industrial killing line before I lug boxes of nails to the attic of a $20 million renovation. I'm a pussy because this is Texas and the foremen and contractors don't hesitate to do what it takes to get the job done. Deadlines loom and they would do everything themselves if they had time. They don't hire you as a slave or to do work they can't or wouldn't do. No, they merely need help doing too many jobs. The heat isn't even a factor to a contractor on a $20 million gig. Steel beams could melt and sag and they would merely order more. They are not wimps. I am the wimp and I surrender before the war is lost. I'll fight another day but not for $6 an hour sweating blood onto concrete.

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Hot Hot Hot

Really, latitude doesn't matter anymore. Altitude is the only hope. Orgonite Help us!

How can anyone look at this and think the temperatures aren't out of control? The problem is that fucks like the Koch family and Inhofe and the Heartland Institute cunts and the other people with their heads up their asses like Bush who said, "The science isn't settled" with such slimy betrayal...the problem is that THEY AREN'T RISKING ANYTHING (other than the future they will tentatively control with national guard brutality) We hit 108 degrees here today, a record high. La Paz, Mexico was a mere 97.

Monday, June 25, 2012

Recipe: Bake Oggy at 104 Degrees for 4 minutes or until crispy in middle




Weather for Austin, TX

104°F | °CMonTueWedThu
ClearChance of StormsMostly SunnyClear
Clear
Humidity: 19%104°79°104°79°102°77°102°77°


My brain is pudding...I'm starting to sound like I live in Austin.
I missed out on a $8000/month clinical trial. Bummer but maybe it's for the best. No career as a human lab rat.



Austin Energy owns more than 2,600 MW of total generation and operates three natural gas powered plants in the Austin area. We are also part owners of two power plants outside Austin, one powered by coal, the other by nuclear fuel.
Decker Creek Power Station
Constructed: 1967-78
Location: Northeast Austin
Fuel: Natural gas, fuel oil as an
alternative
Output: 926 MW
 

Sand Hill Energy Center
Constructed: 2001-2004
Location: Dell Valle, Texas
Fuel: Natural gas, combined cycle
Output: 480 MW
 

Fayette Power Project
Constructed: 1979-1980
Location: La Grange, Texas
Fuel: Coal
Output: 600 MW
Co-owned with the Lower Colorado River Authority
 

South Texas Project
Constructed: 1988-89
Location: Bay City, Texas
Fuel: Nuclear
Output: 400 MW
Co-owner of 16 percent of two 1250 MW units
 

Renewable Energy
Source: Wind farms
Location: West Texas
Output: 439 MW
  
Source: Methane from landfills
Location: Austin, San Antonio
Output: 13 MW
 




























Orgonite Brings Rain

1969 Ford Econoline and 1974 Vespa Ciao
I feel that my moped is bound to be stolen. Everyone and their kid is asking if they can buy it. I really think they are projecting their daily grind misery onto me and see my hair flying in the wind with my guitar dangling from my toes and want a piece of the "freedom" they believe I have. They don't actually understand what it means to ride a 38 year old hard tail 2 stroke moped down a city street. But they see my sandals and Orgonite rain conductor necklace that Dowin sold me to attract good chi to Austin, and think they can have this image for a few hundred dollars .Of course that won't happen so I grin and tell them it isn't for sale. They are envious of their own imagination.

Sunday, June 24, 2012

temps

 102°77°
100°77°
104°79°
100°77°

Inside the van it's 20 degrees hotter. So I got a 12v fan. Bliss. when you leave a 120 degree attic, 110 actually feels nice. 90 consecutive days over 100 degrees last year. We're trying to break the record this year.

Failure To Launch

Another ridiculous project that cost me time and money
 Here's Oggy trying to fix his tail lights. This is a brutal project because the problem is a brand new Chinese part that can only be replaced with another brand new Chinese part that will also be crappy. So, it's dollar store manufacturing being applied to pre-digital ford technology. That equals problems as no tail lights and no turn signals are caused by failure of the tines to properly connect to the contacts on the turn signal cam. If I were a man with no regard for the environment or humanity I would set about properly manufacturing the turn signal cams that actually work. But since I am Oggy I will repeatedly repair the broken Chinese part with hours of brainstorming.
How am I checking the tail light? By propping a mirror up behind the van.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Troubleshooting

One of several portals to another dimension in my van


It's either my heaven or my hell when something goes wrong with the electrical system in the van. You know a trip has really started when you are half naked in the van, a lightning storm is crashing down around you, you just worked 6 hours unloading hundreds of 145 lb Masonite doors for another cookie cutter multi-unit condo flesh factory being built in the 104 degree heat so that you feel like a Chimichanga that had been left on the buffet table too long, and neither your tail lights nor turn signals work. It's awful because unless it's the fuse or the bulb or some simple ground problem then it's guaranteed to cost you 10 hours of troubleshooting. This problem was literally a tour de force that required total dedication over two solid days and nights. And it required Oggy ingenuity the likes of which haven't been seen since I repaired a 40 year old neutral safety switch using copper flashing. This time I only had to rebuild the turn signal cam switch using hair pins and magic. The horn is the next project.

Monday, June 18, 2012

Random Images

 I'm making a belt buckle with only Jarritos bottle caps so I guess you'd call this research or getting material.





Someone crazier than me. Yeah, Texas is gonna make pot illegal and let all their free field workers out? Ha!
Bongo injury
I'm dangerously close to driving to Vera Cruz. I hate cities so much! God how do people live in cities? The mayhem and crime and bicycles trying to fight cars. What gets me is the lack of intention. It's all default living. No one can explain anything except as an economic stimulus. How fucked up are we that stocks are the only driving force to any social event? It's exhausting to live in a city with a place that tries to teach kids about trees. "This is a salamander. it can swim and walk." Really? Are we that out of touch? It's 118 degrees here!

Delayed Motion



I was scanning the classified ads for clues from a mystery admirer who might be leaving me coded messages. Like every other word starts with the letter that creates a larger message directed to me.

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Revisiting 2007

Some viral spam robot has reminded me I wrote this simple ode to joy way back in 2007. Let's revisit it and see if it stands up to the test of time.
I had to do another book report for English.
The one I handed in on Louis L'Amour's "Hondo" wasn't acceptable.
"You need to read an approved book. This is a western about a woman being raped and the man who kills the rapist."
"But I liked it. It's a good book."
"A good book is something by Ernest Hemingway."
"Bullshit."
The teacher sighed. Then she decided to take pity on me and give me a warning.
"You have to pick another book. I'll give you an extension. Just have me approve the book."

So I took the bus to the mall. It took some work but I managed to steal a tennis racket from the sporting good store and sell it in front of the mall. I took that money and got a slice of pizza and an orange drink. I wondered what kind of book I would read.
Then a kid named Ronnie walked by. HE recognized me from detention.
"What's up Oggy. You cock sucker."
"Hey, ROnnie. You still bangin' your mother?
"Naw, I gave her up to bang that whore who gave birth to you."
"Is that right? Well, I hope your mom likes the vibrator I got for her. YOu could hide a football in her pussy."
Ronnie laughed. Nick walked by with his mother and we both made farting sounds. Nick tried to laugh.
"Hey, Mrs. Cristos," said Ronnie. "You know Nick likes to beat off in the bathroom at school?"
Nick and his mom walked quickly into Sears.
"You gonna get new underware for your fat son? They don't make panties for fatties!" I yelled, but they were too far away.

I took the remaining money and played a few games at the arcade. There was a gun fighting game called COmmando. I liked that game. And there was another two-person game where you shot at a big screen. I liked to put quarters into both players and use both guns. People used to call me psycho. Sometimes I'd shoot at the screen even when the time had run out.

I ran out of money and ended up walking home. I didn't mind walking because I liked to imagine a busload of cheerleaders picking me up and taking me to some nice house where I could play arcade games. We'd have sex too, whatever that meant, but I really just wanted to play arcade games all day. My dream was an arcade game that had unlimited credits. Kids used to talk about how they once found an Asteroids game with unlimited credit. IT was like an urban legend. I just couldn't imagine a game that didn't need quarters. You could just play. That was heaven.

No busload of cheerleaders picked me up but a guy in a white van asked me if I wanted to take some pictures in the back of his van. I said I didn't know if I should. He gave me $20 and a pack of peanut M&M candy. I said alright. So we went to this place called pierce Island. He said it wouldn't take long. He said if the pictures were good then I would get more money. maybe even get into fashion. He had a matress in the back of his van. So I went back there and it was real hot because it was one of those spring nights when you think it's summer. He gave me some whiskey and soda. I was feeling good and I did whatever he told me to do. He said I had a nice body, a body like a professional swimmer. He said he would give me $20 more to take my shirt off. So I did that. And then $20 more to take my shorts off. I didn't mind. My uncle Marty once gave me a few dollars to sit on his lap. I knew men like this. So I took it all off and he took pictures. He asked me how old I was.
"14? You got a nice body for that young. I thought you were at least 18."
"People tell me that a lot. It's because of my beard."
I didn't shave regularly so I had a stubble on my chin.
The guy came closer to me and started to touch me. I stopped him.
"That costs $50 more to touch me down there."
"$30?"
"$50 or let me out."
"All I got is $40."
He gave me two twenties. It didn't feel bad. I just thought of those cheerleaders in that bus. I thought of unlimited credits on asteroids and pac man. I thought of Ronnie and Nick. Maybe we'd play whiffle ball later. Baseball season was almost here.
We played a game called "Simon Says" but it was nothing like the game you play in Kindergarten. After he was done I took another swig of the whiskey. The guy was outside taking a piss and I saw a stack of books on one side of the van. I took one and stashed it in my pants. I saw a nice switchblade knife too and took that to pawn or sell at school.
They always get nasty after they get what they want. Like they don't want to see you anymore. So I got tossed out near the basketball courts. Clutch was there shooting free throws and I shot a few with him.
"Your dad was down here looking for you about an hour ago," said Scooter.
"Fuck that old man. Was he drunk?"
"Yep."
I got going. When I got home my dad gave me the belt. When he was hitting me some money fell out of my pocket.
"What the fuck is this? Where did you steal this?"
"I didn't steal it. I worked for it. It's mine."
I tried to grab the $80 but he pulled it away and gave me the back of his hand.
"You don't work. You don't do anything. get on your knees."

Turned out my mom was at the police station again. Had a drunk and disorderly against her so we had to go down there and get her out. While I was waiting outside the processing office I checked out the book I had swiped.
"Lusty Housewives"
I read a couple of pages. It wasn't bad. These housewives get together and fuck everyone who comes near them, the postman, the gas man, the gardener, their husbands, each other. It was real dirty. When we got my mom home I wrote up that book report. I was supposed to write what I thought the Theme of the book was. I wrote: Love.

Obama Declares June 18-25 "Get Your Shit Together" Week

"Quit whining about Japan and China and get your shit together!"
"I know the world is fucked up and a Zombie apocalypse is right around the corner, but the only thing we can do is keep our shit together or at the least get it together."
Obama continued, "Seriously, you sound like a bunch of assholes."

Obama may declare early July as "Don't Give Up So Soon, You Pussy" Week.

Friday, June 15, 2012

Stress

Since I've rejoined the Babylon Drone Brigade I've been under tremendous stress. I really don't know how people do it year after year after year. It must be the coffee or some innate delusion that fixing some stranger's plumbing or erecting a fence or sorting dirty trash or cutting out cancerous breast tissue has some larger meaning. How else could we all keep plodding on day after day in the grind? Maybe it's the collective contract we agree on that you contribute something to the greater good even if it is unclear what that might be or why money is involved. I guess we're just a dumb animal who survives because we are dumb. If we were any smarter we'd go crazy. Or maybe I'm just projecting my hectic existence on everyone else. You all jump through hoops involving psych tests, transmission failures, flesh eating bugs, crickets mating on your forehead, drunks passing out on the floor of the gypsy van that you live in and sunburns from sorting rocks in 108 degree blazing sun because Texas needs another bar-b-que restaurant. Right? Or is that just me?

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Getting Your Shit Together

I was rapping to a worker as we drove to a job moving heavy furniture and he looked up to me as a wise old gypsy and I said, "It's a bad time not to have your shit together."

Monday, June 11, 2012

Magic Bus

I don't get tattoos and up until now I've avoided turning the outside of my van into a canvas. I used to wear my beard long and sport torn overalls to prove that I didn't care what people thought of my non-commercial image. Now I still don't care but I don't care so completely that I would rather people just not look at me at all. In fact, I'd be perfectly content on a deserted island with my imaginary friends as company.

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Petition to End Gossip Mags

Trash


I am so repulsed that supermarkets still allow these magazines to be sold directly in the checkout aisle. I started this petition because I know people will rise up and help the cause. hahaha. I'm also thinking of ways to sabotage the gossip mag racks. Any ideas? All you facebook addicts could promote the petition and actually do something useful but that would mean beings something other than a disgusting pawn for Rupert Murdoch.


Creative Commons License
Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.