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.

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.