Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Milk Cow Less Blue

Transcript from cell phone conversation with Milk Cow:

Milk Cow (slurred, drunk): Oggy? [Milk Cow actually calls me Oggy since I tooled it onto my belt. He thinks Oggy Bleacher is the greatest name ever and eventually his curiosity will bring him here. Sorry, Milk Cow, but I'm a writer and you are my material] Hey. Hahah Guess what?
Oggy: Your fingers grew back.
Milk Cow: hahaha. Oggy, you kill me. No. They're gone for good. The social security came in. I got two grand coming..[sound of chickens in background] (shut the fuck up fucking rooster.)
Oggy: Two grand! You buying a luxury tent?
Milk Cow: Hahaha. No, the child support got taken out, the lawyers...the fines from that thing in Austin I told you about..."
Oggy: That shit at the police station...
Milk Cow: All of it.
Oggy: So the check was originally like $10,000?
Milk Cow: (get out of here rooster. Hey, could you call your rooster? He's eating my beans. Fuck! I spilled my beer. unintelligible)
Oggy: So your check...
Milk Cow: What? Oggy? Are you there?
Oggy: I said your check was...
Milk Cow: Two Grand. That's like a million dollars to me.
Oggy: Get your guitar out of hawk. Get a hooker.
Milk Cow: No. I'm getting a van. I have to move out of here. You want to know what happened today?
Oggy: What?
Milk Cow: I said you wanna know what happened today.
Oggy: Yeah. Yes. What happened?
Milk Cow: So, Raymond [owner of property where Milk Cow's tent is set] comes by. Pissed as a sailor on vacation. Drunk. Drinking. And you know I love animals...
Oggy: Oh, shit.
Milk Cow: I love animals. And this motherfucker is talking to me and he sees this kitten...
Oggy: Man.
Milk Cow: And he goes, 'Here kitty kitty kitty...'
Oggy: Lord...
Milk Cow: And you know how much I love cats and animals. I mean, I try not to fuck with an ant hill...
Oggy: Right.
Milk Cow: So, I'm sitting there watching and he says, 'Here kitty kitty.' And this sweet little starving kitten that I've been feeding scraps since I moved into the tent...right, the kitten is living on scraps from a homeless man with 7 fingers...hahahaha...
Oggy: Jesus. Where's the justice?
Milk Cow: So the kitten, a sweet kitten I named Sir Grenfell...
Oggy: No, you named him after that guy in Labrador I told you about?
Milk Cow: Yes! Because I'd never heard of him before and you told me about a Canadian named Grenfell and how he changed everything and I thought I'd name the kitten that so I could remember to read a book about him later when I had some money.
Oggy: And what happened?
Milk Cow: So Grenfell comes up mewing and sweet and innocent and I was looking around for a scrap to give him and I heard this 'WHAP WHAP WHAP' and I turned around....and Oggy, Raymond was beating that kitten to death WITH HIS BOOT. SMASHING HIS HEAD IN.
Oggy: (laughing, but silently, rubbing aching neck) Awful. How awful.
Milk Cow: [Roosters crowing] screaming at him to stop. And Raymond, who is poisonous and evil, looks through me, like a GODDAMN PSYCHOPATH. And he says, 'That's how I feel about everyone. Everybody."
Oggy: It's a hard world.
Milk Cow: So I buried that kitten.
Oggy: Sir Grenfell.
Milk Cow: Yes. I've got a tombstone made of cardboard.[coughs terribly] I have to quit smoking because I know I have lung cancer.
Oggy: You sound like it. My lungs feel like they've been heat blasted every morning from the gases in the air...
Milk Cow: What?
Oggy: Nothing. I hauled 5000 lbs of concrete this week and mixed it by hand.
Milk Cow: At least you're getting good money.
Oggy: Yeah. I thought it would be cheaper for the company to pay some homeless guys to mix the concrete instead of three electricians.
Milk Cow: [unintelligible] is work.
Oggy: I'll be back this weekend. I gotta get my muffler fixed. And the U Joints. I saw a bass guitar in San Antonio, maybe we'll go spend that two grand on some strippers.
Milk Cow: Oggy, I had my day in the sun with hookers. No more. I need food. And I need rest. I'm old and hurt. I gotta keep all these other kittens away from the property. I throw rocks at them now and apologize. But there's nothing I can do. [voice trails off]
Oggy: Alright, get some rest.
Milk Cow: Hey, Oggy....

I hang up quickly but one hour later Milk Cow calls me back and attempts to have the exact same conversation again.

Worst Thing I Can Confess Today

I'm old and aching this week. How did I get involved in Oil Field hydro fracturing? HOW? I prayed to God to send me some sign that I could improve my life and the sign I got was a job in the Eagle Ford Shale area as an industrial electrician/I&E tech/Automation Tech/ etc. So, that set me up for the reality which is any kind of electrical installation will have to be prepped in a carpenter/masonry way. So, I can not raise my arms above my shoulders because in order for our installation of a large Variable Speed Drive cabinet to move forward we had to pour a 5'x5' concrete pad 6 inches deep. I think that's like 12.5 sq ft...which amounts to twenty one (21) 80lb bags of just add water concrete. That 1680 pounds of concrete personally hauled into the plains of Texas. Guess how much water that involved? 40 gallons. Oh, and there are three cabinets so multiply everything by 3. 5040 lbs of concrete. How much electricity is involved? None. I just wiped sweat from my encrusted face and grimaced in pain.

Oh, I know I should be thankful for the work. Sure. You Steinbeck fuck. God gives all things to industry. Yep. Feed me another line of Bullshit. Temperature in the 101 range. The van thermometer read 119 and reminded me of bleeding sweat in Austin last year while everyone laughed at my misery.

That's all I want to talk about regarding work. Am I buying a $3000 guitar with this money? You bet your ass because I can't think of anything else that is worth this kind of agony.

Anyway, the worst thing that I can confess this week....( I want this to be a weekly theme column) is that the hair on my ass has grown shaggy and when I take a shit I can not wipe all the shit off as it gets caught up in the hair because of the decrepitude and arthritis in my I must scoot my ass to the bathtub and wash my ass off, which reminds me of the scar tissue from THE FUCKING STAPLES THEY USED ON MY ANUS WHEN THEY SLICED THE HEMORRHOIDS OFF. That's the worst thing I can confess.
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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.