Sunday, June 30, 2013

Old Tools

I never followed up on my promise to destroy my useless crimper/stripper tool that I actually found at a job in Los Angeles where I was an Electrician's Helper at a new Ralph's Supermarket in Marina Del Rey on Lincoln Blvd back in 2004. Almost 10 years of horrible service from this tool. I replaced the crimper part with real crimpers an I have some wire strippers.

Puppy Meal With Large Soda

I started thinking that the puppy must've been pretty big, maybe a German Shepherd or a Mastiff puppy? Because he had to save some for later. hahahha. Most puppies you could eat in one sitting. But he must've waited for this one to fatten up. Then he strangled it. And cooked it. Nice afternoon barbecue of Puppy haunch and ribs and leg quarters. Times is hard in Florida. This is how I cope.

Snowden's Fate: Fugitive Slave Act 2013

Oggy has been relatively quiet on the subject of whistle blower Ed Snowden. I'm percolating the misinformation that I find. What does it all mean? Today, I think I see what it all means. This is, I submit, the latest permutation of the fugitive slave act...that declared that once a slave managed to escape his shackles in Mississippi or Georgia, the northern state like Massachusetts was required to wrap him up and stamp "return to sender" on his ass. How this law managed to find anything less than outrage is baffling. I guess Zachary Taylor and Millard Fillmore were even worse politicians than the trash we have today. This act went so far as to turn all northern residents into cowardly two legged blood hounds owned in-absence by cotton plantation owners. Vermont, Michigan and Wisconsin fully campaigned against and nullified this act but other states hardly resisted it. Thoreau knowingly flaunted this act because he seditiously thought for himself. This was long before CNN and Fox News's massive propaganda efforts reduced Americans to fuckwads who can't speak longer than two sentences without eating Taco Bell.

I Forgot To Remember to Forget

The hard truth is that I don't want to forget her. I want someone else to come along who compels me to forget. The salt lick of my fantasies must be replaced by visions of cloudy cotton dreams in comfort chimes or else I will implode from the vacuum of my unfulfilled desires. This is a Charlie Feathers tune that I messed up the lyrics on.

Saturday, June 29, 2013

Cooling Off

Feels like 113? My van thermometer is off the chart...120+. A/C runs non stop and the desert never cools off even during the night. Feels like Lybia. This year I've made an improvement in lifestyle but that isn't saying much since passing out from heat exposure in my van on an alley in Austin isn't a real peak of my life, but it's still ungodly hot. I remember thinking that I would never stay for another summer because it's impossible to work outside and I'm not an office type so how could I remain inside all summer? It made no sense. But this job has the possibility of being an easy dollar with soft hands choking the wolf lifeless so maybe it will last the rest of the summer. I'm sort of indifferent because I've got the fat piggy bank and will have to accept my guitar status can't change without winning the lottery. Puebla, MX is looking so good right now. I'm going to surrender to the fates but I'm not picking up another rock bar for the rest of the summer so that sort of limits my function with this company. Either I'm an oil field radio network tech with some fancy guitars, or I'm studying Pre-Colombian art in Puebla with the same old beater guitars I've been playing for 5 years. Could go either way. I've wanted a job on a wind farm maintenance crew for years and one finally opened up but it pays less than I make now and requires climbs over 100 ft up a pole. I think Puebla is a better option right now.


While I am writing, I am far away;
and when I come back, I have already left.
I should like to see if the same thing happens
to other people as it does to me,
to see if as many people are as I am,
and if they seem the same way to themselves.
When this problem has been thoroughly explored,
I am going to school myself so well in things
that, when I try to explain my problems,
I shall speak, not of self, but of geography.

my pet turtle, who never dreams of interviewing himself

Friday, June 28, 2013

One Year in 10 minutes

Oggy attempts to summarize the last year and fails....


"Remotes acquire synchronization and configuration information via SYNC
messages. They can synchronize to the Master (the MODE M unit) or to any
valid Extension (a MODE X unit).
The Master will always transmit SYNC messages. An Extension will only
start sending SYNC messages after synchronization is achieved with its
The ability to synchronize to a given radio is further qualified by the sender’s
Extended Address (XADDR) and by the receiver’s Synchronization Qualifiers
When a primary is specified (XPRI is 0...31), a radio will always attempt to
find the primary first. If 30 seconds elapses and the primary is not found, then
the radio attempts to synchronize with any non-primary radio in the XMAP

I feel like I'm dancing on Pablo Neruda's grave when I read things like this.Oh, but I'm getting paid to read it so THAT MAKES EVERYTHING OK.

Thursday, June 27, 2013


alien spacecraft
three ufos in sky

I was walking around outside after watching a few ufo related videos on youtube and I swear I looked up and a bright orange light soared into the sky and became two small red lights that flew off to the west and then vanished. I am certain they were alien crafts. I took a picture of the lights and have confirmed that others saw the same mysterious objects. Believe! We are not alone.

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Thank You McDonalds

1/3 of America recently became classified as diseased thanks to the disgusting McDonalds and processed chicken lips being regarded as food. My latest theory is that fast food has nothing to do with eating and has become a ritual event, habitual gathering, the equivalent of prayer, that happens to come with 2000 calories. If being fat is a disease then that should immediately see every fast food joint in America closed down due to the same fucked up standards that keep marijuana illegal.....BUT NO THAT WON'T HAPPEN BECAUSE THE JAILS NEED POT HEADS TO PAY FINES FOR CADILLACS FOR JUDGES. Total hypocrisy. MCshitty burger causes heart disease and death. Pot makes you laugh. WHICH ONE SHOULD BE ILLEGAL?

Sunday, June 23, 2013

Collateral Murder

Political language is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give the appearance of solidity to pure wind. - George Orwell

It seems the AK-47 that the nearly blind helicopter spotters were seeing actually were zoom lenses on cameras owned by Reuters journalists who were killed.

So I've made an identification test for any future pilots and gunners.


Saturday, June 22, 2013

Skilling Buys Freedom In Crooked Country

"Washington (dpa) - A U.S. judge on Friday decreased by 10 years the sentence of disgraced former Enron chief executive Jeffrey Skilling as part of a deal with the Justice Department that will see him pay $42 million to victims of the energy company's collapse"

This guy engineered a fraud that cost people 2 billion in employee pensions and rendered worthless $60 billion in Enron stocks.(except for the $100 million that Skilling conveniently sold before it was determined to be worthless) he defrauded everyone. lied about it, fought it and still managed to only get a 24 year sentence for ruining the savings of an entire generation of utilities workers and teachers in California who had their pensions invested in Enron. Now he's only on the hook for 14 years....and he's served 7 so far (since he managed to avoid prison FOR 5 YEARS AFTER HIS CRIMES!!). If I broke into the homes of 10,000 people and stole everything they owned and then used their money to pay crooked lawyers to reduce my sentence then there is something obviously corrupt with that. The excuse is that since he has the money to drag out litigation of what he really owes he managed to leverage the corruption of our justice department against itself because he could technically break the bank as his victims tried to be repaid. But it doesn't take a genius to read between the lines to find out who the judge was who quickly agreed to this travesty. "U.S. District Judge Sim Lake III  was appointed as a judge on the U.S. District Court's Southern District of Texas in 1988 by President Ronald Reagan."
The crooked snakes always protect their own split tongue brethren.


dedicated to Gumshoe...another cowboy at heart. This song was written by a woman, Sharon Vaughn, which goes to show you women understand men better than men understand themselves. I heard it on the radio on the way back from a well head and declared, "That's a good song." IT was so good they made a movie based off it.
My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys.


how many more years do I have to sing this song before I do it right? The cowboy hat helps. Shirtless and broken. dedicated to Poncho, who shared the expense of buying my first beater car that took me to the border. I named the car Poncho after this song...because I was romantic and hopeful of romance, dreaming of pretty hookers but winding up in a truck driver's fantasy. Life has more than met my demands.
Another song Willie Nelson performed that was written by another, in this case Townes Van Zant. He spelled the name like Pancho, but I can not spell so I named my car after a blanket with a hole cut in it.


All it took was a cowboy hat and indirect lightning to make this song work for me. dedicated to truck drivers, gay or straight.. FYI: I have been from Tuscon (AZ) to Tucumcari (NM), Tehachapie (CA) to Tonopah (NV). I've also been to TOK (AK) and Toronto (Canada) to Topolobampo (MX). Lowell George, the writer, toured enough to know what he was talking about. Go check out Linda Ronstadt's cover of this song if you want a professional version. I am a simple telemetry technician living the dream in the Texas oil field after 20 years of vagabond rambling and gambling with my fate. I've had weed, whites, and wine...dreamed of Dallas Alice, and had my head stoved in but I'm still on my feet. I'm still willin'. (Can I vainly admit that I LOVE living in a place where most men wear hats like mine. Nobody looks at me funny.)

Thursday, June 20, 2013

Fat, Infertile Duck Refuses to Migrate

Maggie, the Texan Duck
Sources confirmed that a fat and infertile duck named Maggie, who usually returned to her Canadian breeding grounds for the past 5 springs has decided to skip this year's migration.

"Why bother," asked Maggie as she ate a piece of hot dog a dawdling electrician threw at her. "I fly way up there and obviously I'm not going to have any offspring. So what's the point? That's a shit ton of effort to fly yourself to Canada from Texas to watch other ducks give birth. This year I decided to skip it."

When asked if she thinks she will start a new trend of spending the whole year in her winter habitat, she shrugged.
"I don't know or care. Yes, it's hot down here in the summer, but for the past three years I swear the only cold breeze we get is when we're actually in the air flying. As soon as we land in Canada at that lake, boom, it's like a thousand degrees again. So, this whole migration thing has been a let down. Like, we can't fuck and have ducklings at this lake?"

Maggie continued by saying that she didn't have any plans to fly north again. Ever. That many injured ducks don't make the trip out of necessity, and actually, she's been getting laid more now than ever.

"Once all those breeding ducks are out of the picture, I've kind of got my pick of the rest. No, they aren't the cream of the crop, deadbeats that they are, but beggars can't be choosers."

Maggie excused herself as a group on picnic arrived and tossed some bread to the ducks.

"All this eating and lack of exercise is sort of killing my figure, but that's the way it goes. Something's got to kill me, but it won't be a random collision with a helicopter or power line. I'm happy here and they'll have to bag me up and take me to the dump. Heck, I've got some mottled Mexican duck friends who are trying to get me to go to Cancun for the winter. If I can lose some weight to fly again then I might join them. They say it gets crowded in the winter but you've got the whole beach to yourself in the summers."

At press time Maggie had waddled off through a crowd of pigeons and began to muscle her way toward a slice of stale  white bread.

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Adrift in the Monkey Trials

Frozen yoghurt aisle
cheapskates on the make
don't let the creeper van
assert the date rape

frack job behind hidden bushes
of rabbit lined stew
is the drag queen watching him
or is she watching you

rhyme and reason
+ - = #
BROKEN DREAMS and stuck shift prime

the long island iced tea
meets Crystal Gayle memory
in the worn out dream market
of private lives and ceremony

mothers fathers and long lost kin
dispose of frequent rubbish in
the poetry of dreaming foggy
the lapsed lisp fallen eye of fallen Oggy


If you're like me then your days are filled with the modern sounds of violence and machinery. When I watch this clip of Oggy the Arctic adventurer cleaning the mud off his boots at a lake in central Labrador I'm amazed at how quiet it is. The Mont Groulx area is even more remote. In fact, it's the closest open country area of unspoiled wilderness with no trails or anything that I know of.

I really wonder what wrong turn I made to come face to face with this machinery

Saturday, June 15, 2013

Three Living Angels

Linda Ronstadt has pipes that should be put in a museum. She's lip synching here but that's due to 70s era television limitations. She made her career singing other people's songs or maybe songwriters made their careers writing for her...either way she really hits a home run here with some tricky lyrics and dynamics. Her cover of Willin' is incredible because it's actually a trashy song that I've sung in trashy bars but she is all dignity and honest.

I try to be realistic about eras of music. Yes, if you stacked up top hits from 1966 to today's top hits there isn't much to compare but it's unfair to look at it that way because quality music today is basically not on the radio unless it's an oldies station playing songs from 1966. It's also unfair because of course if you pick the cream of the best songs from any era that have stood the test of time then they will always be better than the generic modern tune. I'm sure I could go back to 1966 and find some B side duds. Independent artists have gone underground because corporate music has established a stronghold on the market. Subversive music such as 1966 is no longer status quo acceptable to larger production companies and since they are controlled by the larger media whores then we will always listen to redneck filth with short shorts cleavage shots and July 4th teenage brothel mix. But the good music is out there.

  Crystal singing a song that Judy Collins also recorded. They both worked with other people's material. Crystal Gayle is so emotive that it makes me weak in the knees. She is the youngest sister of Loretta Lynn, and the only kin to be born in a hospital and not a coal miner's cabin. One day I'll tell you the tale of planting trees near Butcher's Holler, living in a tent, eating noodles for two months. If you haven't heard of her it's because she's past her prime and was never a media whore. She's classy...a word that Britney Spears can't spell. Crystal had a real pro career toeing the line between country and pop. Mostly Country, but "Don't it make my brown eyes blue" could be covered by Eminem and it would still be good. "Snowbird" is a song made famous by Anne Murray but Crystal Gayle sang it early on and inspired me to work on it myself. It's out of my league but it taught me some lessons in songwriting. Like "Long Long Time" the lyrics really go to town if you can follow them.

A song from early Judy Collins (that has been deleted but was called "Everybody Get Together)...The Youngbloods made this song famous years later and this is Judy's groovy  version. She sang Send In The Clowns years later that was on the radio every minute. I remember playing this song outside the armory in Santa Cruz when everything had fallen apart in the forest with my girlfriend and I being hounded out like skunks in an attic by the park rangers. My buddy Brad came down to visit and we three were bused to the armory with the skanks and whores of the grimy street village...and I had my guitar that was broken and repaired with metal plates like a leg bent in half and I met a guy who had stopped taking his medication and only wore sweatpants and played his steel string guitar with real skill and we stood outside in the wintery El Nino rain with the most destitute people in America, refugees of the Reagan springtime, and sang from my moldy 60s songbook. Junkies shot dope in the bathroom and the floor reeked of disposed condoms...chlorine and false stamps...back pain. It was as bleak a situation as you can imagine.

Wait....we sang For What It's Worth, by Buffalo Springfield. Shit. I remember that because the guy in the sweatpants could play the distinctive harmonic at the 12th fret during the intro and I was so impressed by that. Anyway, you get the picture.

Mixed Messages

Own an oil well to fund your anti-oil campaign? (that's a pump jack in the background)

I'm a hypocrite and a dirtbag. I've been called a rat and a traitor to my cause. I thrive on arctic wolf blood. So I know when something is amiss. My favorite evangelical environmental site, Climate Progress, has the frequent article on hydro-fracking, which is what pays Oggy's bills lately. I'll be moving away from the electrical installations to radio telemetry so more information can be directed to the headquarters than ever before but it's still related to pumping chemicals into the earth to break it so everything can keep growing like cancer. I'm not sure if humanity is in the end stages but my ignorance is preceded by my own egotistical inventions when I venture to suggest humbly that USING WASTEWATER OR PROPANE TO FRACTURE SHALE POCKETS IN ORDER TO LIVE IN LARGER CITIES WHERE WALMARTS ARE BEYOND THE REACH OF A BICYCLE is probably an indicator of something terribly wrong. It reads like desperation. We have no unless we want to dehydrate the citizens of south Texas then we have to figure out another injection material...SO WE WILL USE THEIR SHIT WATER.
If you aren't scratching your head then go back to sleep because you're useless.

Thursday, June 13, 2013

New Favorite Song

Try to sing this song and not sound fake.

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Routine News

So, we're trying to get back to the office today at 5 pm and there's a head on collision in front of us that shuts down farm road 85. We're redirected through a lightning storm. And when I research what happened I learn that it's not even the first fatal head on accident OF THE DAY.

"C S -
The newly-appointed city manager of C S died from injuries he suffered in an accident Tuesday morning.
RM was on his way to work Tuesday morning when his vehicle collided with a cement truck on Highway 83."*

drive safe
moments after the sheriff told non big rigs to turn around

RM died early in the morning and someone who hasn't even been identified died around 4:30 pm....on a different road nearby. And the death toll is like Kabul because only Friday a man drove drunk and killed his two kids and a woman driving another car. If you want to make money you should open an air lift helicopter medi-vac service in CS

And when I say that I drive 450 miles each day I want you to take a good look at the road I'm driving on. 75 mph, frack trucks...wet...lightning...tired...wind...illegals...smugglers...hogs...dying wolves...the only reason there aren't helicopters in this picture is because of the lightning and maybe the drivers were too dead to bother with. And this particular stretch of road has a wide shoulder, paint, and no pot holes which is not true for most of the road. All of this effort so we can remain the #1 polluter on the planet. Congratulations.

*That's the road I once commuted on. I pass the cement plant every day.

Monday, June 10, 2013

Accident Analysis

Follow the line to Oggy's broken Body

I've joined a select group of people who have watched a tire pass them at 60 mph and the tire belongs on the vehicle they are driving.

In my case, the day was already a blazing and hellish adventure that had me pouring battery acid in my face to cool down. And this only a day after having another leaf spring component break that took ingenuity beyond belief to fix on a remote well head access road. Using a rock bar to leverage the leaf spring down to fit a bolt plate across. 5 hours in a dry sauna of 110 degrees wrenching on bolts. Awesome! Well, that lasted 1 day as the trailer's axle had been crying for attention and finally threw in the towel. And this is all only 1 day after burning out a $2200 explosion proof flare stack motor (unfortunately not idiot proof) The bearing froze, the spindle nut sheared off and the tire came off. "We lost a tire." I heard and thought he meant a flat tire because I could see smoke and shrapnel accumulating behind us in a cloud...then I saw a strange sight bouncing in the rear view mirror, a brilliant and free tire, finally released from the shackles of the axle. It bounced and bounced, traffic dodged it from the opposite direction and then the tire took a right turn off the shoulder and we three sweaty laborers, dog tired from unrelenting heat and work watched the tire bounce past us and I confess I was rooting for the tire to clear the fence separating the Zebra and Llama hunting ground because it seemed to want to make it. It was aiming for the fence.

Notice that the lug nuts are still on tight

The tire was really moving and it was either going to tear the fence down or else bounce over it. At the last second it hit a big bump and easily soared like Oggy's inflamed ego into the descending sunlight where the last hope of arriving home at a reasonable time collapsed and the Llamas scurried for cover beneath the Zebra's striped indifference.
Ah, it looks like the whole brake drum came off
We laughed and laughed as traffic bombed past us on their way to frack another farm to death, inches from crushing us.
The spindle nut either came off or the whole bearing seized due to lack of grease. The brakes are toast and now the whole axle shaft has to be replaced. Our laughter is the most dangerous part because when death and heat stroke are guaranteed risks every day then having a tire detach from the trailer at high speed becomes a joke. I still think it's funny.

Friday, June 7, 2013

Once Upon A Time In America

My back is killing me and I thought I'd ruptured my appendix this morning and held the left side of my belly but someone said that my appendix was on the other side of my gut.
"Then I'm even worse off than I thought," said a wincing Oggy. "How the fuck did my appendix get over here?"
I'll be a comedian until the day I die...which I thought was going to be today as a lightning storm thundered through our work site while we were working on minor details of a 480V panel...stripped bolts, shimming switch poles, negotiating with the gods....losing the keys to the trailer and finding them in the mud which clumps like wet newspaper in the home of a hoarder. PEOPLE MUST HAVE THEIR GASOLINE!

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Summer Dinner

barbeque madness wilts local ego
blackened chile peppers a'la La Paz
After Arc Flash training we drank and swapped war stories.
An arc flash is an explosion of copper hotter than the surface of the sun

caused by human error
But the 107 degree surface of Oggy's face
isn't much colder.
like a barbeque of your mouth
lips swollen
throat parched
for energy to consuming fat data entry slaves
going to work
Oggy slithers to the roadrunner madness
arc flash fantasies
roast sweet chile peppers
peel skin
add soy sauce
recipe for the moody blues
 Oggy dreams of broken hearts in sandy visions
Vera Cruz illusions.
Mexican volcano dreams
lost innocence in driftwood fires
wilting in Texan heat for the love of guitars

Sunday, June 2, 2013

Less Me?

Someone's Marketing Degree Tuition Money Was Wasted

I didn't see this slogan before I bought the peanutbutter cheerios. Otherwise I would not have purchased it because I don't like supporting bad marketing. Am I the only one who doesn't buy a product if the word "Just" is used on the packaging? "Just add water!" "Ready in Just 5 minutes"
MOTHERFUCKERS THAT WORD IS NOT THE RIGHT ONE TO USE. Use "Simply" or "Merely" OR LEAVE THAT ADVERB OUT COMPLETELY. Right? "JUST LEAVE THAT ADVERB OUT." Why add JUST? Leave it out. Don't flim flam me with bad English to make me think something is easy. I'D LIKE TO TEAR YOUR HEART OUT! Ad copy like that has me taking shit out of my basket and leaving it on the floor of the store. It really disgusts me. If I get it home by accident I throw the package away. Sometimes I burn it in my van's wood stove. I resent it for weeks.


Looks like a nuclear test over New Mexico

Saturday, June 1, 2013

Official Start of Summer

Out of Ibuprofin

Down and Out

I'm not too down and out but I felt down and out when I sang the song right before I moved out of my piano home. I'm currently nursing a back injury caused by the A.G.E. virus. Puebla, Mexico looks to have the best climate in the world and the repeated 103 temps that have scorpions and roadrunners seeking shelter in the shadow of my ego have me thinking that no amount of money is worth my health and welfare. I know now the costs and sacrifices of the oil field workers. I'll conserve gas. I swear. I'll drive my moped everywhere. Something has to change for this to continue. It kills me that my dream guitar is not within my budget right now. I don't know what else I can do.
Creative Commons License
Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.