To Sir, With love

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JJ

I Know What Its Like To Be Dead

A lyric from one of my fave Fab four tunes penned by John Lennon. The Fab Four, the boys of Liverpool, The Beatles. In retrospect I use the Beatle as a barometer of the status of my coming of age. When they took the US by storm I watched them on The Ed Sullivan Show. Back then we had only one TV and after the family deliberated we watched whatever we decided my Mom an Dad had chosen to watch. It was my introduction to a one sided democracy, but I was too little to engage in politics at that time. No matter, it was cool, the times were different then and that’s how most families viewed this high tech medium we called the idiot box. The family gathered and watched one of three channels, and The Ed Sullivan Show dominated Sunday evening prime time in most homes. I was excited because there was some new band from England on the show that night and they had girls screaming their names. I have four older brothers so my introduction to rock and roll was their 45 record collections of acts like The Everly Brothers, The Four Seasons, and a slew of others including Elvis the Pelvis Presley. I sat on the floor transfixed as The Beatles played a few way cool tunes! Mesmerized! When they finished I knew I had my own music now, The Beatles. The next day I decided I was gonna take the greasy kid stuff out of my hair and try and sneak some bangs past Mom.
Growing my hair proved to be much more difficult than I believed it would, but I kept at it. For years! Through tears, arguments, fights, and a few times being physically dragged up to Frankie The barber for a nice crew cut I did everything within my limited power to have a Beatle haircut. Eventually I prevailed, but that one night of Ed Sullivan changed my life. I rocked out to the hard driving love song of the boys and other acts like them for the next two years. In December of 65 is when Rubber Soul came out. Game changer!!! I was all of ten years old and suddenly my music world expanded immensely. Unusual instruments and sounds and their hair went from cute mop tops with bangs to a longer cut, like a girl. That’s what I wanted. I read every teen magazine article on the Beatles, bought whatever 45’s came out, and was changing along with whatever The Beatles did. The next album was “Yesterday and Today” which is when I learned what controversy meant. The cover of the album was described by Paul as “Our comment on The Vietnam War” , sometimes refered to as “the butcher cover.“ The boy were dressed in butchers smock with meats and plastic oll parts on them. It pissed off my Mom and Dad, sso I knew it was important and I embraced the Beatles even more. Now at age eleven, I was learning about politics while listening to even newer sounds by my hero’s.
Toward the end of that year is when Revolver came out, and it had the song I spoke of in the beginning,. “She Said She Said” which grabbed me instantly, along with many other psychedelic sounding songs. I went out to Spencer Gifts and bought black lights, lava lamps, strobes, and Day-Glo posters. I was dressing according to what they wore, or what the “Mods” were wearing on Barnaby Street. I attempted to part my hair in the center and grow it longer. That led to out and out battles, in which I did some profound personal growing. I began fully understanding politics, and in two years I would understand what Timothy Leary meant by “Turned On”
After Yesterday and Today, it was Sergeant Pepper, Magical Mystery Tour, and Yellow Submarine and by 1969 I was on my way from being a “Mod” kid wearing the latest fashion, Nehru jackets, love beads, granny glasses, and balloon sleeve shirts to becoming a hippie. As the Beatles changed, so did I. John Lennon had more influence on me than anyone else in the world, including teachers and family, and I had never even met him. But I listened to every interview, read every story, and followed all the escapades involving The Beatles in general, and John in particular. My devotion to peace, my devotion to equality, and my coming to understand hypocrisy was all due to following John Lennon’s philosophies.
I remember when Kennedy was shot but didn’t fully understand the implications.But I got that it was a profound moment in all our lives. I was much more aware when King, and Robert Kennedy were shot, fully aware of the implications. I followed the happenings of the Chicago Eight, or Seven if you forget Bobby Seale, became involved in protests, sit ins, attended peace rallies and was far more in tune to life than ever before all due to growing emotionally, mentally, spiritually, and politically along with The Beatles. I was fortunate to grow up in that era an I took full advantage of what they offered, way beyond merely their music.
I wasn’t prepared for what happened December 8th, 1980. Now another cog in the working class with a family. I was paining my kids playroom and listening to the radio when the music was interrupted to tell us that John Lennon had been shot an killed. It was a deeply felt emotional punch to the solar plexus. I put the paint brush down, sat on the step ladder and wept. The collective shock and sorrow felt by fans was like Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes. They call me on an on…..Across the Universe.
A friend who taught me right from wrong, and weak from strong that a lot to learn. What can I give you in return? To Sir, with love…Peace
IMAGINE .

Existential for Death

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eyes

Existentialists are so often misunderstood, even by other existentialist. They are not nihilists or anarchists, nor are they atheists. Existentialism is a philosophical belief not a faith. Many today are jumping on the ex train because its believed that existentialist are clever intellectuals that speak in profound quotes of some of the more famous existentialists. While most of us are clever, not all of us are brainiacs who sip cappuccinos at cafes and discuss matters of global implications. We are just average people whose beliefs do not fit in to a mainstream belief that we all need a god to believe in and a religion to tell us out how and why. That’s not to say we can’t.
Existentialism does not rule out the possibility of a creator although for the majority if there is a creator its nothing like the one most of us were force-fed as children. No all knowing all seeing god who demands praise from everyone, no angels waiting up in any paradise community after we die. But that’s not to say that some form of energy or entity didn’t have a hand in getting the ball rolling so to speak. For us it’s a little clearer than a magic image in the sky watching to make sure we behave. It’s a cycle of life, we are born, we live our life, then we die. We are in that cycle just the same as every non worshiping living thing on earth. I can’t prove this but I firmly believe bacteria do not worship any pathogen gods or pray in any amoebic temples yet they live the same cycle we do. The bottom line is everything lives, everything dies. If we view it in a strictly linear form then all of existence is in a line, like a time line where we have a starting point and ending point and all people and events in our timeline intersect at various points. Our lives are Point A to Points unknown. We all accept that others lived before us, and others will live after us, and in every religion death is an accepted stage. However temporary, whether it leads to paradise, another life, another stage of existence, or pure nothingness it happens to us all. What occurs after death we tend to disagree, but death is imminent.
Accepting that makes it no easier to live ones life and like anyone else existentialist fear not death per say, but are more intrigued by the mysteries surrounding it. Only in death will we find answers. I was born into a Catholic family, raised as a Methodist (a matter of convenience for my parents), but told my true roots are of a Jewish heritage, so its no wonder my religious faith was so confusing. I doubted the existence of the god I was taught at a very young age so to help sort it out I studied many religions. I adopted many Buddhist philosophies and principles because much of it made sense. I did not however adopt any of the ritualistic behaviors because to me structuring faith makes faith void of integrity. If I need to follow a ritual then I am merely a copy of someone else’s belief. To me joining a specific religious society forces one into a clone relationship. If there is such a thing as soul or spirit it comes from within.
Religion is described as an organized collection of beliefs, cultural systems, and world views that relate humanity to an order of existence. That makes your religion a random happenstance, an accident of birth not different from gender, or class. I didn’t seek out religion when I was young I was handed a religion to believe in. If my parents had stayed loyal to Catholicism I would have been a catholic, but I was switched to the protestant religion because the Methodist church was near home and more importantly next to the volunteer fire department in which my Dad was the Chief. And according to ancestry.com. somewhere along my family lineage a family was forced to hide its Jewish heritage to avoid persecution and the name was never changed back. The illusion of being Christian gave my ancestors a much needed advantage. Not uncommon, look at the collection of Amish living in Lancaster known as “The Pennsylvania Dutch” A religion of Germanic settlers who didn’t wish to be associated with the German Deutschland so they misled people to believe them Dutch and not Deutsch. With so much switching back and forth, with interfaith marriages and families, how is it even possible for any religion to be the one true one?
Existentialism is relatively simple. Our existence precedes our essence leading us to an understanding that the self is what’s important, that we are merely tiny specks on tiny cogs in a complex universe. It gives us the ability to defy classification, especially when it come to religion. Its what’s in our hearts and our minds that matters. Live your best life, treat others as you wish to be treated, help out your fellow humans when they are in need, share and do not judge how others live their lives. Live and let live. Many religions claim to teach those principles yet they condemn others for their lots in life. Its hard for me to get behind a religion that tells you we are all of Gods children then tells you if you’re gay you are an abomination. Clearly forgetting judge not lest ye be judged. It irks me to see a person on social media claim their love of God and tell me how blessed we are and how we should rejoice in one post in social media, then spew hatred at someone because their politics are different in the next. Unfortunately it seems we live in an age of intense hypocrisy, especially among the holy rollers. Religion shouldn’t allow you to feel superior, but humble. Unfortunately most religions fall far short on the humble. This is the reason most existentialist show distain for religions.
I was born scraping and scratching my way through life and now I’ve reached a point where death becomes more and more imminent every day. One of the cruel jokes of life is when we finally realize how much of living is bullshit we are too tired to live the life we should. We allowed money to be the center of our lives, putting us not in a solar system like every other living thing, but a dollar system in which we all revolve around money. I should stop before I become more like the people I’m ranting about! Damn, looks like my equine ride has been puffing my weed again. Time for me to get own of my high horse. PEACE

Cuz I only Have Pies, For You

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only pies

Is the dough out tonight?
I don’t know if I rolled it out right
But I ONLY HAVE PIES
Foooooor You

Ah yes, holidays are here and its time to get pie baking. Apple pies, mincemeat pies (which is what my Mom once threatened to make out of me), cream pie, chicken pot pie. Wait, what? Is that a three course meal, chicken…pot…and pie? Or is there a reason they call them pot pies? It begs the question, is it possible to use the same rolling technique I learned as a teen to roll out my pie dough? Perhaps. I remember the first time I learned to roll my own back in the day, so maybe it’s like riding a bike and one never forgets. In fact I believe if I had some rolling papers and something to roll in them this second I would till be able to create the perfect fatty. (Do I mean hypothetically? Perhaps)The real question is this, can I use that same long ago learned skill to make my pies for the holidays? Well The Existential Baker has never been one to give up without giving it the old culinary college try, so lets investigate. Nothing to lose anyway, if it doesn’t work I will just fall back to the old school daze of rolling when I was on the honor roll of joint rolling and set myself up with a good old fashioned doob. (definitely not hypothetic)
First I want to investigate the commonalities of smoking herb and baking. Here we go. Cakes are like the baggies of herb in weed world. A half ounce is like a six inch cake, a lid (very old term for between a half and an ounce) is an eight inch cake, and the five finger ounce is a huge ten inch cake. Quarter pound is a half sheet, and well you get the picture. The higher the quality the higher the cost. You can get a cheap store bought pre made cake for the price of Mexican green weed, a home-style bakery fresh cake for the price of Acapulco gold pot, or a custom made baked to order cake in the shape of just about anything which is like a purchase of killer Thai Stick. All of them taste great and make you feel good but the Thai Stick is by far the most enjoyable and impressive of highs. I specialize in cupcakes, which is more like smoking from a bowl of a multiple hose hookah pipe.
Picture this, a giant mushroom, a tie dye colored humongous caterpillar sitting on top of it smoking from a hookah pipe. He offers you a hit and you smile like a Cheshire cat. Either you’re referencing Alice in Wonderland or your doing hallucinogens not weed. Ease up on your THC levels. But back to the hookah. The multiple hose hookah he offers you is a pipe designed to offer a smooth smoke for multiple users, more than likely a must have in the good old opium dens where Eastern Mystics went to light up and chillax. That’s kinda what happens with the cupcakes, you sit around a table and everyone is empowered to enjoy whatever flavor they chose, unlike the basic chocolate layer cake which needs to be cut and portioned. And everyone get the same buzz. (From chocolate) With cupcakes the user, or eater, just picks whichever one they want and its all ready for them, in a nice neat self contained package. I also make bite size mini’s, which is like a set of one-hitters. Anyway, around the table you sit with the cupcake of your choice and you can use a fork or just stuff the dynamic flavored treat directly into your mouth. By using the best and freshest ingredients we bake our little treats then offer them up for consumption. Cupcakes may also be used for medicinal purposes, having properties which help combat depression and other mood related afflictions. No prescription is needed, just an okay from Web-MD or a simple self-diagnosis will do. But please use in moderation, cupcake withdrawal can be a bitch. That’s how a warped mind like The EB views his cupcake creations, like high grade pleasure inducing treats made individually for each one to indulge as they choose. We create preamo organic mind teasers and palate pleasers for your recreational or medicinal enjoyment. (for private parties I have been known to enhance them with ……. Lets just say more organics). But I’m off on a tangent which happens often when the mind is distracted by weed, I mean cupcakes, so back to rolling.
Back in the day the rolling papers were too small to make a proper fatty. We had to get resourceful sticking two papers together. The same concept applies with pies. Two separate discs of rolled dough for a fatty of a pie. Its important to get the dough to the proper thickness and size for the desired result. Once rolled its time to put the product inside. Lets say its some high quality sliced Washington State G-Mama Smith apples cut with some sugar and spices. Too much filling will rip the paper, so proportion is important but you want that mother stuffed to the max with a nice mountain of sweet surrender. Oh to live on, Sugar Mountain! Now we need to stick the two shells together. I’m not going to lick the pie dough because….well gross, so in place of my saliva I will use some whipped eggs and brush the edges gently just as I would have licked the glue. Using a rolling pin replaces the art of holding your product between index fingers and thumbs to roll it up. You won’t need that to roll out the dough but remember that skill because it will come in handy when you need to pick it up and place it on top of the apple mountain. Roll the dough in a circle a tad bigger than what you need then fold it in half. (use plenty of the white powdery stuff to prevent sticking) Then using thumbs and index fingers pick it up and place it on top of the apples with the crease across the middle. Use the aforementioned pinch method and flip it over the apple creating a pleasuredome. Gently press along the edges to seal, cut off the excess dough and crimp for a perfect fatty of an apple pie. Now its time to bake. Matter of fact, let’s put it in the oven and we’ll all get baked!
This may be a bit of a stretch, but when you get down to it many of the skills I acquired back in the days have come in handy working in kitchens. Cutting and portioning with a spatula or knife instead of a credit card, sifting flour at an angle just like cleaning weed on an album cover, or rolling dough the way we rolled joints. So when you get down to it, my youth was clearly not misspent, and I received a valuable education at school outside of the classrooms……PEACE

Like us on Facebook at Jarets Stuffed Cupcakes, or visit our website….http://www.stuffedcupcakes.com/

Moses And The Ten Suggestions ( 10 habits of highly pious people)

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fluke

A SICK BASTARDS BIBLE SELECTION
J.T. Hilltop

Moses tied his long hair in a ponytail as he walked some of his father in laws sheep up the mountain to his “spot” where he often went to chiillax with some weed. On this particular day he had stopped off at his best friends hut for a joint. “Oy Sammy, its me Moses, you got a spare joint dude?” Samuel opened the door, “Aye Mo, wassup my main shepherd friend, come on in I got just the thing for you Bro.” Moses knew he could count on Samuel, he always seemed to have the best weed. Claims he gets it from some dude named “The Lion,” or the artist previously known as Snoop Canine. “Check this out Mo, its some killer chronic. I painted the Zig Zag paper with hash oil before rolling it up so its got some real ballz Buddy.” He handed Moses the doob, “Oh snap Sammy, this gonna be fine my man, just what I need today. Wife’s been on my case all day and I need to dee-stress pronto baby.” Moses headed out the door filled with an attitude of gratitude and a slamming joint in his robe pocket. “Catch ya on the morrow Bro, thanks so much.”
Moses wandered up a mountain path with his sheep until he came across his favorite get high rock where he stopped and lit the J. Toking, coughing, toking some more he could actually feel the stress leaving his head. About three quarters of the way down the blunt there was a big seed that Samuel must have missed when he cleaned the herb and it popped loudly. An ember jumped up from the doob and landed in a small bush by Moses feet. At first he didn’t think anything of it although after a while the bush began smoldering. Moses was way to high to do anything. “Hey Moses….Moses its me, The Man.” Moses looked around but not seeing anyone he anwered, “That you Sammy? Holy crap Sam you were right about the chronic man.” Moses took off his sandal and pounded it on his head, “Hear that man? That’s my skull…. I’m sooo wasted!!” Moses looked again, still no one around. “No Moses, its not Samuel, its me God. You know the father of everyone. Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, everyone. I’m the lord God, the supreme one.” Moses stared at the smoldering bush, “Come on Sammy cut the shit man, you’re scaring me Bro. How the fuck do you do that voice?” The bush burst into flame and began to crackle, “Its not Samuel and stop cursing. I hear you cursing all the time and it has to stop. I also know what you think when you look at Sarah. She’s not your wife, you shouldn’t think about her that way!” Moses was still leery thinking he was just too high, “What? Sarah’s friggen hot Man, I can’t help it. Have you seen those jugs? And she has hot legs too. Damn man, anyone that wouldn’t want to get between those…..Hey wait, you’re who? Did you say you’re my father? That ain’t funny Sammy, you know my old man died last year.” The bush began shaking, “Not your father, everyones father you jerk, the Lord God, creator of the world. The supreme being. And I told you to stop cursing. Matter of fact that’s one of the things I came here to talk to you about.” Moses walked closer to the bush, “So you saying I’m talking to God and you have some other shi….. Ah, stuff to talk to me about? Man this chronic is stronger than anything I ever had.” Moses took one more toke then tossed the roach aside, “So if you really god, the what’d you call it, supreme being, where’s your sour cream?” Although it was merely a bush Moses could sense its frustration as the flames flickered. The voice got really loud, “I’m not a friggen burrito supreme you idiot, I am the supreme ruler of all men, the lord god almighty himself and I’m here to give you instructions on what I expect from you. I hope to Jehovah I picked the right one. There aren’t any other Mosses’ in town are there?” The bush was shaking again, “Nah G, ain’t no Moses but me. But I could do it man, just tell me what you need.”
God went on to explain to Moses all the tasks that lay ahead. “Go to the elders of Israel and tell them that I have appeared to you and told you I have watched over them and know what went down in Egypt. Tell them I have promised to relieve their people of the misery by the Nile into the land of Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, and the Pez eating Pezanites. You will lead them into the promised land, the land of milk and honey.” Moses was a bit uncertain and felt that a deal of just milk and honey wasn’t enough so he negotiated to receive Manishcewitz wine, Knishes, and a Halvah candy bar along with the milk and honey. That would cure his munchies. Both sides walked away satisfied yet apprehensive, but the deal was done. Moses was to free the Jews from Egypt and bring them back here to Mount Sinus.
It was quite an undertaking because quite frankly the elders thought Moses was tripping, due to his reputation as a “prolific pot puffer” from his days as a bachelor. Moses complained to God who gave him a few tricks to perform. Hadeus, one of the meanest of the elders mocked Moses. “Check this out boys, young Moses over here claims that God has spoken to him. Hey Mo, what’d God have for breakfast this morning? Hahaha, you know what a man with a fourteen inch erection has for breakfast?” Hadeus dropped his drawers revealing a eleven inch erection laughed loud and said, “Well this morning I had four pancakes, two eggs over, and toast.” All the elders erupted in laughter so Moses seized the opportunity. “First of all Hadeus, its plain to see you are embellishing a bit about your endowment, that looks like ten inches at most, and behold, its not an erection, it’s a tiny garter snake.” With the power God bestowed him Moses turned Hadeus’s anaconda erection into a flaccid garter snake. The room fell silent as all stared in horror at the now even more impressive appendage hanging, or rather squirming between Hadeus’ legs. Hadeus screamed and as he ran away he cut his new one eyes snake on the door hinge and it began bleeding. Hadeus jumped into the lake which immediately morphed into blood. The elders no longer doubted and placed all their faith in Moses. No one wanted to suffer the E-reptile dysfunction of Hadeus.
Convincing the elders was one thing, but swaying the Pharaoh’s mind into freeing his people would prove much more difficult. The Pharaoh had a bevy of snake charmers leaving the snake trick to assume the position of a parlor trick. Moses spoke to God, “God, I told him to let my people go but the Pharaoh just laughed in my face. He was totally unimpressed with the snake trick. I told him you would do some really bad shit to Egypt if he doesn’t free them so….um, whatta ya got?” God raised his voice, “What did I tell you about cursing? What do you mean you told him I would do something? What do you expect me to do?” Moses put on his puppy dog eyes, “Well G, I was kinda hoping we could do something with some frogs, insects, and like some ice balls and shi…..stuff.” Gods voice chilled a few octaves, “Okay, okay, I’ll think of something, but why frogs?” Moses smiled, “My Mom used to tell me a story about an evil witch that turned a prince into a frog, and I just thought that would be fitting since the pharaoh was once a prince.” Moses couldn’t see God but he felt the wind suggesting God was shaking his head, “You are incorrigible young Moses. Okay, give me a week and then go back and get our people the heck out of Egypt!”
The very next day Egypt was inundated with frogs crawling and hopping out of every corner giving the Egyptian people warts and boils. The next day it was lice and gnats, the following day flies.Two days later and ice storm followed by a rash of locusts. Moses chuckled at the thought of the Pharaoh covered in warts, insect bites, and lumps from hail balls pleading for it to stop. He confronted him to find him near insane. “I’ll say it one more time, let my people go. God said he will kill the firstborn of every Egyptian family until my people are free.” The Pharaoh handed Moses the key ring with shaking hands, “Here, go. All of you get the fuck out of here, I never want to see any of you again!” Moses took the keyring to unlock the prisoners but gave the Pharaoh one last demand, “And stop the cursing!”
Well M-Dog was real proud of himelf, he was leading all the jews out of Egypt and had scored some killer black hash and a few grams of some whack Lebanese red cocaine in Cairo, so off they went into the desert. The trip was wracked with misfortune because Moses was stoned much of the time and kept making wrong turns. He put a young dude named Joshua in charge who fared a little better, but it was difficult traveling with armies chasing them all the time. Joshua made a huge misjudgment and suddenly Mosses and his people found themselves trapped at a river. Once surrounded Moses was prepared to give up when he heard God talk to him, “Moses, I saw you buying drugs in Cairo and you know how I feel about that, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Use those drugs to get across the sea.” Moses was perplexed, “How the fu…er how the fudge can I use drugs to save us?” But Gods voice didn’t answer so Moses set out a plan of his own. He asked for a private meeting with the soldiers in charge, “Well boys, you got us. Before you kill us its customary back in my hometown to smoke a few bowls with your captors.” He lit up the hash and passed the pipe getting the soldiers high as kites. He then went to his people and pulled out the Lebanese red cocaine, “Everybody take two quick hits up the nose then we swim like mother, er melon farmers across the river.” Joshua was a bit concerned, “What is that Moses?” Moses smiled, some red “C” I purchased at a caravan in Cairo. Quick, snort it up and lets get the heck out of here!”
After snorting the Lebanese Red “C” they all swam across the river like it was an Olympic event leaving the Egyptian soldiers too stoned to chase them. Now they would have safe passage to Mount Sinus. A bit late perhaps, but be there they will! His people laughed at the stunned soldiers who were wondering what just happened as the group safely headed towards the promised land of milk, honey, wine, knishes, and Halvah bars. Without GPS it took a while but they made it to the foot of Mount Sinus. It was time. Moses headed up the mountain telling his people he’s be back shortly with a message from God. “Listen up guys, this shouldn’t take too long, Ima bust up the mountain to see God, you guys just hang and wait. And please, stay out of trouble. Josh, your in charge dude.
Moses trekked up the familiar mountain looking for his get high rock. Still a huge smile on his face Moses checked every bush around but none were burning. Not even smoking! Suddenly a tall dude with long wavy silver hair and a smoking silver ZZ Top beard walked towards Moses, “Where the heck have you been Moses?” Moses looked up sheepishly, “Oh, um, we got lost God, sorry. Wasn’t my fault the friggen soldiers kept chasing us, I made a wrong turn, Joshua got confused and before we knew it we were running in circles. Anyway, I’m here, your people are at the bottom of the mountain waiting, and its time to lay it on us big guy.” God was holding two tablets in his hands, marked RORER 714. Moses eyes got bugged, “Man, I ain’t see Quaaludes like that in years God. Are they for me?” God passed the tablets to Moses warning him to jut take one at a time. ZZ Top chinhair strap then lit up an enormous rolled joint and the two got high. Moses took both tablets. The two smoked a bit too much and passed out for forty days. When they came to, God had his ten suggestion ready. “Bring this list of ten habits to our people an tell them they need to follow this like law if they want to enter heaven.” Moses looked over the list, “Whoa, God, you gotta go over this shi…..stuff for me first, let take them one at a time. I‘ll paraphrase and write them down so we get it right”
Suggestion 1.….Remember that God is the lord, who freed you from Egypt, and invented weed
Suggestion 2.….Don’t worship before any other gods, wait until after
Suggestion 3.….Don’t put anything in your veins then say “God damn that feels good”
Suggestion 4.….Remember that on Sunday you should play Black Sabbath (or any solo Ozzie efforts)
Suggestion 5.….Be with your Father and especially your mother. Be on her and off her all night
Suggestion 6.….Don’t kill anyone with kindness.
Suggestion 7.….Do not commit to being an adult
Suggestion 8.….Do not steal. Shoplifting is okay, but stealing is a no no.
Suggestion 9.….Do not witness bears doing it with your neighbors.
Suggestion 10.…Do not cover your neighbors wife. (you’ll wanna see everything)

Moses wrote all the stuff down and headed back down the mountain to share his newfound knowledge. As he got close he dropped the paper he has written out. Standing in shock Mosses became infuriated. All of the people he had saved were drunk and having sex with a blowup doll. The doll was oddly attractive with large breasts, full thighs, and amazingly realistic calf’s painted gold. The golden calves! He ran around like a madman because he was a mad man. “You fools, worshiping a sex toy? Are you fucking kidding me?” Gods voice rang out, “Moses! What have I told you about cursing?” Moses acted as though he hadn’t heard as he ran up and pulled the plug on the sex doll, screaming at the revelers. As the air went out it made a loud sucking noise, and the one who had his rod inserted into the dolls staff let out an “Oh My God” as he reached a feverish orgasm. Mosses turned disappointed, “Of all, people Fellatio, I never expected this from you.” Moses was so crimson red and angry no one noticed that he grabbed at his chest. Moses suffered a heart attack leaving Joshua in charge of the rest of the journey. God had to rewrite the Ten Suggestions this time with corrections. The reworked list still stands today, as does fellatio’s rod.
The End

Transcendental Medication V..(Out of the black, and into the blue)

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altered

Previously on Transcendental Medication :
The smile on my face was so enormous my jawbone ached and my eyes were nearly closed. Ambrosina began gently shaking my shoulder apparently ready to go one more time but I was spent. I looked up saying, ”Sorry babe I just could….oh, Dr. Kha, its you! ” God damn its confusing slipping in an out of realities here! Dr, Kha stood over me with a smirk, “I see you make visit to paradise JT

Tomorrow put you in sensory depravation tank with special punctures dipped in mixture of essences from Belladonna, Angel Trumpet, and Nutmeg Paste. Essence free mind and allow to see without eyes. Transcendental medication. Ownry then JT will you see truth, opposite universe, and maybe even understand nothing. Get some rest my boy, tomorrow is day you meet God face to face.”

Out Of The Black And Into The Blue

Meet God face to face! Well this is gonna be pretty interesting considering I can’t remember having ever believed in God. Oh there was a time, but only because it was what my Mom told me to believe and I trusted her implicitly. Why would she lie about God? But around age six or seven my best friend and his family died in a house fire two days after his birthday party. Mom told me my friend was up in heaven now where he’ll be safe. I asked why God wanted the family an why he made their house go on fire and all she could tell me was that God had a plan and we shouldn’t question him, but I wasn’t buying that bullshit. I started having my doubts about this God character and his so called plan so I made up ways for him to prove himself to me. Instead of “now I lay me down to sleep” I engaged in conversations with God. Only they weren’t dialogues, they were monologues, night after night. I only asked for small signs, not giant challenges, no plagues or forty day storms. Something simple like make my covers fall off or leave a scratch on the wall. I never asked him to beat up my older brother or return my best friend and his family back to life or anything profound, just you know like leave a light on, move a book or something. But night after night, no signs, no answers. Mom took me to church on Sundays and even at that young age I could see it was filled with hypocrites singing and praying. Old man Martin who was perpetually drunk in his backyard all dressed up in suit and tie singing, hands folded. Old lady Brown kneeling on the pew. In whispers the adults called her a Jezebel. I didn’t know what that meant at the time but by the way the adults showed distain I knew it wasn’t a good thing. Years later I learned kneeling was a common occurrence for her but apparently if it was on the pews on Sundays that made everything okay. By the time I turned eleven I was already a full fledged atheist but I continued my religious schooling to appease Mom. I was even so fascinated or maybe hopeful I studied other religions as I got older. I learned more about God by more names than I thought possible and became more sure than ever that God doesn’t exist. At least not the God I’d been taught. And now after all that I’m meeting God face to face tomorrow! At least according to Dr. Khandra.
I was nervously excited as I entered the THC clinic. A nurse led me down into the basement and laid me down on a cot that was chained to a sort of crane with chains and pulleys. Like a harsh torture hammock. I looked up with a quick glimpse believing the nurse to be Ambrosina. She smiled at me, winked saying, “Later JT. I’ll see you later.” Before I could even answer Kha came in with a small silver table filled with needles and a bowl of syrupy liquid. “Must be excited JT, yes? First I dip pricks in essence, place them at precise point and then close you in tank. No incense, no music today, ownry serenity. When ready we let you free from tank and journey begin. Relax and enjoy enlightenment my son.” I laid there motionless, a combination of anxiety and excitement as Kha placed the dripping needles about my body. This time the needles were warm and wet. Six on my forehead, two in each ear, two in my neck, and at least a dozen in each leg. I could feel the essences making they’re way into my blood and it warmed my veins. Instantly relaxed the anxiety faded away leaving only a smile. I felt comfort with the feeling because it wasn’t foreign, it was like the old days just before the LSD kicked in. I was about to start tripping like I had in my drug experimentation days and it warmed my soul.
It took a while to get used to the absence of sound or sight. Total darkness with no sound at all, feeling a bit claustrophobic I was anxious, confined, and alone. I thought perhaps this is a big waste of time. I was angry I was allowing this to happen to me, if there was a way I could get out. I called to Kha a number of times but he didn’t respond. I was alone, first angry now depressed. Total darkness. Alone with nothing but an irritating voice in my head insisting I was missing some major point about nothingness. My head was swirling with thoughts or maybe dreams of all sorts of shit, memories from way long ago, places I have been to, totally random things. I think I had some very bizarre dreams I’m not sure what’s a dream or what is a thought? From surreal to harsh reality it was one episode after another. The dream or thoughts seemed to float, moving as though filled with helium, the further they went away the calmer I got. After about…wait, that’s odd. I have no idea how long it’s been. I have no idea what time it was or how long I’d even been alone here in the dark. Had I fallen asleep? Has time stopped for me? As I pondered claustrophobia and panic subsided, sliding into acceptance. Everything is serene, calm, and quiet. Existence is not as special or amazing as I thought. Oh I’ll give you the complexity of being a living breathing thing is quite extraordinary, what with networks of communication inside me traveling at mind bending speed, blood, oxygen, even the way I need to eat and void unnecessary remnants from food is amazing. And evolution, well what is evolution other than strategy of survival? But the FACT that I or anything exists here, right here right now on this seemingly huge planet is so remarkably insignificant when I think about it in Universal terms.
Super Nova’s, Black Holes, Quasars, and galaxies, those are amazing. Time and space being curved or the possibility of alternate universes, that’s amazing. I’m nothing, just a teeny weenie blip of nothingness in time and space. I giggled as I watched that thought float away when I thought I heard a voice. “Now you are understanding nothing JT, ready to see alternate reality.” It was Kha’s voice but how? Must be a camera or some sort of electronic monitoring he used. “No use camera, no use device JT, ownry listen to you.” Wait! What did he say? Listening to me? But I’m not talking I’m only thinking. “Not thinking JT, talking. Not words or out loud but still talking. And we hear you. You are ready to come out now.”
The pulley’s lifted the makeshift cot upwards as the top opened brining me not into an office but in a clearing in a mountain wilderness blistering with life and color. Oh my God the color were o deep an rich, so real. I was inside a crayola colored landscape beside a stream. Dr, Kha was there along with two other strangers. “Come sit down with us JT, we share herb of life… You come to me asking why there is something instead of nothing, yes? I ask you now, why cannot be something and nothing?” I asked him who the two men were and he told me they would lead me to God after I finished my lessons. He handed me a long pipe which I took readily inhaling almost instantly. The smoke had a minty smoke flavor and was not in the smallest way irritating. I held it in like it was pot until it exploded inside my head. Actually exploed. My head must have grown ten inches. Images where fractured as if they were photos layered on top of each other and superimposed. I tried to stand up but instead floated, or better hovered effortlessly as the three men laughed. “I don’t see what’s so funny, everything is out of focus. Motion, Time, sound, even life is out of focus.” The men continued laughing until Kha pointed to me, “Seem you forget pants JT. You come ownry in underwear. You are right everything out of focus. That how world really is. You see on quantum level now, you move with quantum motion and see with quantum eyes. You think unreal but exact opposite. Everything around you in constant motion JT, but your non quantum eyes cannot perceive. That why most people can never see God. I believe if most people really were able to see God they be scared, not elated. You see realities now JT, in your normal world nothing really what it seem to be. You are going on journey most people cannot handle, that what Transcendental Medication do my son, it open your mind and eyes to realities clouded by limitation of human perceptions. Dreams are real perceptions JT, ownry seem too abstract to you to be real. You not have pants on because it dream that haunt you as child. That’s from the drugs. The medication will help you confront many uncomfortable dreams you have had but also some very good dreams. And dreams you have not had yet. A new era of perceptions waits for you JT, you were chosen for this journey. Your two guides are messengers of God and I am your handler. The three of us will lead you on journey of everything , something, nothing, and true God after you visit Ambrosina for lesson on desire and power. Go to her, she waits for you and you must first understand yourself before you can know nothing.” Kha smiled at me like a teacher, or a father maybe, “Take your boat.” I looked at the stream which had my little row boat from my previous visit tied to a tree. “Just get in boat JT, and follow river. You will know when to…. get off…Ha ha ha. Then when you come back we discuss your perceptions” What an odd sense of humor, an old man like Kha using a sexual double entendre about “getting off” I thought to myself as I got in the boat. Dr. Kha untied the rowboat setting me free, “Not as old as you think, but much older as well JT.” I heard all three men laughing as the boat headed to wherever the current took it. How the fuck could he hear my thoughts? I’d better be careful what I think.
The ride didn’t take very long because I could see a woman in the distance waiting on shore. I wished the boat over to her and it went of its own accord. When I got out I was back in the island paradise where Ambrosina had so totally controlled and dominated me bringing me to the most incredible orgasm of my life. I exited the boat with profound anticipation and walked up to the woman waiting. I knew I was looking at Ambrosina but she appeared so different. Her hair tied in a ponytail wearing very little make up. She was dressed casual yet somehow stern. A beige corduroy button down dress with matching skirt. In place of the sexy shoes were low heeled casual loafers. Sensible shoes! She appeared demure and intimidated as she walked up to me, placed her mouth right at my ear an whispered, “If you want me you have to take me tonight. You have to want me bad enough to force me.” As she walked away I watched her ass bounce lightly back and forth giving me a semi erection. Despite the changes I wanted her in the worst way. The lust built up inside my loins and I knew I would do whatever I had to in order to make love to Ambrosina again. But how to start, I’ve never forced anyone before, that’s rape! Ambrosina turned around looked at me with her incredible sensuous eyes. I glanced down at her lips as she mouthed, “I’m ready JT, come take me. I’m here to service you.” I knew I had the power to ravage her and it felt invigorating. My semi erection began growing.
TBC

Where Has All The Flour Gone? (Dealing with post baking blues)

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where

Where has all the flour gone ,long time passing?
Where has all the flour gone, long time sifting?
Where have all my bakers gone
Scooped the bins everyone
Oh when will they ever learn
Oven makes the flour burn
(Pedro, Paula, and Marty, by bakers)

Finished the annual turkey an fixins, polished off all the Beaujolais Nouveau, had some leftovers, an checked the highlights from the traditional Thanksgiving sport, Mixed Martial Arts Shopping. Since Tueay morning we have been baking our asses off. Pumpkin breads, a variety of pies and cakes, a few thousand cupcakes and the list went on. A marathon of mixing, rolling, scaling, and baking for near about 38 of the 48 hours and now I’m exhausted. And I have post bakematic stress syndrome because all the flour bins and sugar bins have been depleted along with my spirit. The week before thanksgiving had me amped up with so much extra baking that I was on an adrenaline high. But now…..where has all the flour gone?

There’s a huge void in the cupcakery. True I can take a breath before getting re-stoked for the holiday rush still tom come but this day, this black Friday I a blue Friday for me. Bummed that the bakery looks like a war worn battlefield to organize fore the bake off for the holiday. The Hell with holiday, I’m gonna call it what it is for me, PC be damned. Getting ready for the Festivus rush! I should be happy because the airing of grievances, the feats of strength, and all the other peoples holiday rituals will be asking for more cupcakes an baked goods. But something’s wrong! No pumping, no jamming, no looking forward, the Thanksgiving rush has left not only me empty but the containers previously filled with that white powdery gluten riddled product. Where has all the flour gone?

I know, I know, careful what you wish for, when its slow I wish it was buy and when busy slow, and when its cold out I wish it was hot but when its hot and humid I wish it was….Not cold, Hell no! Maybe I wish it was cooler but nothing to do and cold weather sucks way more then too busy or too hot! So I’m miserable now. Not only a flourless kitchen but on top of all that it’s friggen cold as Hell. South Hell Pole to be accurate, which is so cold it makes a guy gonads hibernate in his intestines promising to return only once the heat gets turned on. South Hell Pole is that part of hell often refered to as “A special place in. There’s a special place in hell for him and that’s South Hell Pole. Oh yea it burns like a mother humper in regular hell, near unbearable heat every second of every day, but in South Hell Pole you shiver constantly until your goosebumps have goosebumps and every breath you inhale gives you brain freeze. That’s a special place! On the brighter side, there is flour there.
Therefore I will end all my bitching about how miserable I am and focus on how happy I’ll bee in the next few weeks when I’m sweating off my old ass while breaking in a new one in the kitchen that’s as hot as regular Hell. No more feeling sorry for myself, get up an fill those bins, get those pans ready, and get back to what I do best, baking. I am looking around my beat up kitchen with promise and hope as I head to the storeroom to grab a bag of …..wait…what? No more bags?
Oh woe is me, where has all the flour gone……PEACE

Jack And Dianne Revisited

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a jack

Parody sung to Jack and Diane by John Cougar Mellencamp

A little ditty, bout’ Jack an Diane
Two over the hill aged kids livin’ in the heartland
Jack used to be a football star
But now Jack cant see above the dashboard of his car

Suckin’ down prune juice outside the pharmacy
Dianne sat on Jack lap and nearly broke his damn knees
Jack said hey Diane lets wobble over to the shady tree
Its been 15 minutes, and I really must pee.

Oh yea, life goes on
Long after control, of body functions are gone
Say, oh yea, life goes on
Long after the thrill, of using it is gone

Jack sits back, can’t collect his thoughts at this moment
Scratches his head and does his “who was James Dean?”
Well ya know Diane we should do it in the city
Diane says baby, you already past that scene

Oh yea, life goes on
Long after the thrill, of making love is gone
Oh yea, life goes on
But now they got pills so now lets get it on. Now Rock on!

I can’t rock, I can’t roll
Let the nurse come down and save my soul
Hold on to 60, as long as you can
Changes come around real soon
Like depends made for women and man

A little ditty, bout Jack and Diane
Two aging lovers growing together, best they can

Seasons Greed-ing’s

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turk

No Virginia, There is no more miracle on 34th street

Thanksgiving is this Thursday and there are some who are seriously in need of your help this year. The disenfranchised franchises of retail stores. Due to “calendar irregularities” the shopping season is six days shorter than usual which may force several CEO’s of major retail stores to cut back on their caviar this year, or worse, be forced to get their children practical gifts this holiday season. But that’s not what worries them most, they’re real concern is about us, the hard working shopping public. That’s why these stores, Macy’s, Wal-Mart, JC Penny (they are personally responsible for keeping the JC in Jesus Christ-mas),K-Mart, Target, Old Navy, Kohls, and Macy’s will have someone ready to wait on you in their stores Thursday. I know I mentioned Macy’s twice but their underpaid accountants project that the stores profits may sink below 40% this year meaning its gains may be less than 6 ½ billion by years end. So taking into account that combined with their concern about you and your family get to-gethers I felt they deserve extra mention. Anyway, I’m asking you to show your support for these struggling companies who are so desperate they are willing to force their low level underpaid staff to get off their lazy asses and get into work on a family holiday. Go shop, to Hell with family. Thank you CEO’s, your generosity borders on patriotic.

So please don’t make plans to stay at home with your family this Thanksgiving, help the CEO’ sit proud in their boardrooms. Open your hearts and your wallets and pull out your credit cards and spend the day (as well as all the money you have, plus some you don’t have yet) the way the Pilgrims would have if they hadn’t been so busy sharing food with Americans. Maybe they did, maybe history is wrong and it wasn’t a feast but a flea market where the Native Americans traded the foods they farmed and the game they slaughtered for whatever the Pilgrims put up for sale. Designer feather headdresses at Gimme-Mart, Cooking pots from The Cellar at Mayflower Stores, trinkets from WM Penn-iless, or the latest in colonial technology from Pilgrims Plug In. So maybe these generous companies aren’t just trying to make huge profits on the backs of their minimum wage employees, maybe they are merely celebrating in the true spirit of Thanksgiving by opening their stores the way the Pilgrims did for the natives. So be patriotic, forgo family fun, get out to the stores and spend spend spend. Not spend time with family, spend your money so the CEO’s can comfortably spend the day with their families, with caviar, extravagant gifts and all. You can get the whole family together for a day of love and sharing any time, but the sales only last for a limited time. While supply last. I don’t know about you but I sure don’t want to be the one to deprive big business of an opportunity to make a few million in profit, that’s downright inhumane. To hell with family, get out there and do the right thing, shop till you drop.

This year we all have a chance to make a difference and get a good jump on our holiday shopping instead of connecting with the ones we love. Be thankful? For what, we deserve what we get! Sure there are thousands of our fellow American who are homeless and starving but people will always go hungry in our country, that’s just how we roll. Besides, I have no clue what their circumstances are but they no doubt brought it on themselves by being lazy waiting for handouts. Screw them, they can have all the empty cardboard boxes after Christmas. Or you can be one of those liberal so good protesters who vow they won’t shop this Thanksgiving day because they’re outraged at the way the company shows distain to the lower classes. Truth is the companies don’t give a shit about the protests, they know your as addicted to spending money as they are addicted to stockpiling it. Their focus groups show we’ll just spend the money in their store on another day and within three years time we will all be so used to stores opening on Thanksgiving the magic behind the holiday will fall prey to commercialism just like Christmas has. By this time three years from now the day will become juts another holiday we can stretch into a 5 ay weekend to get drunk, watch football, and go shopping, because we all know there aren’t enough Sundays to do that in regular football season…

As for me, I‘m going to spend the day as I usually do, inviting family and friends over for a fanfuukkentastic meal, awesome wine and beer, and great conversations. At 12 noon I will stop everything for a half hour while I listen to Alice’s Restaurant Massacre, a hippie tradition I have held up since 1971, and reflect on all the wonderful people that have had passed through my life. If you shopping is part of your tradition go for it, its your option, but consider first to take one moment in time, one day of the year in which no one gives a shit about politics, religion, or any other distractions that seem to rule our lives and put all the garbage aside to appreciate how much we love, and how much we are loved. Love, Peace, and Hope. You can’t find that on sale anywhere but if you really want it anyone can afford it ….PEACE

Reeling In The Years

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senile1

That’s right, reeling. Reeling And a rocking, rolling till the break of dawn. That’s me! Actually its more like creaking and a cracking, falling till the break of bones. WTF? What’s happening to my body, when did all this shit all sneak up on me? Many words and phrases seemed innocuous but these days when I hear dig it I have grave concern. Buried in my work, quite an undertaking, dying to go there, drop dead gorgeous, all common phrases which now give me pause. But don’t pause too long, pour yourself a stiff one! Here’s what started this gloomy thought process. A snot nosed brat said scuse me gramps the other day and I was pissed. I was like who the Hell does that little jerk think he’s calling Gramps? But then I remembered…. I am a Gramps. I’m a fucking granpa! I have grandkids??!! How? When? Not possible! I still like to rock an roll, I’m just as fit as I used to be. Okay maybe not as fit, but my clothes still fit. Okay, maybe I have grown a few sizes and had to buy bigger belts and shit, but I can still rock and roll all night and party every day. So long as all night ends by midnight and partying every day begins sometime after five. Holy shit man, WTF has happened?
Its called the declining years for a reason. Everything declines downhill. It sneaks up on you, hitting your legs first. One day I’m running to catch the bus and an going slower than I should. When I just barely make it I think, Goddamn I’m out of breath. And my thighs and knees hurt. It was a struggle to chase the damn bus. Shake it off, its nothing, must be the weather. Its raining after all, and the rain does weird things to peoples bones. Yea, that’s it, the rain. With a sense of relief I wipe my face dry when something else occurs to me. There isn’t nearly as much hair to dry! WTF? When did my hair get so thin? And how did my forehead grow so big? It goes up so high I can’t see where t my temples are. Its like one big mass of lumpy hairless scalp halfway up my head!. OY, the decline is starting.
Then one day my indigestion seems harsher than normal. Wait, What?? Normal? WTF? When did indigestion become a normal occurrence for me? And now I have a baseline to follow? What happened? Here’s what happened, my digestive system has been working overtime for years, battling all the beer, wine and booze, chips, fried food, Mexican foods, Thai foods, donuts, cupcakes (shameless plug), an every other substance I carelessly forced down my intestinal tracts. Years of hard work!! And now its pissed off. My intestines are mad as Hell and they’re not gonna take it anymore. Time for some gastro-intestinal karma, exacting some revenge via my stomach. Best served cold means swallowing Zantac with cold water, and chewing Rolaids like candy on a daily basis. Too late for apologizing to the stomach, the damage is done. Apparently drinking lots of milk to line the stomach before an evening of heavy drinking was bullshit, and my stomach is liver. I mean livid!
Hair falling out, running ability compromised, and now daily stomach issues. How much worse can it get? Okay, time to go to CVS and find something that will slow down this aging process. Here we go, aisle 6. I grab a box of Lifetime Youth Glow something or other. Lets see what’s in here. WTF? Why did they make the lettering so small and blurry? Maybe if I put it a bit closer. Nope. Maybe under the light? Nope! I pick up the box next to it and can’t read that either. WTF has happened to my eyes? The writings not smaller my eyes have gotten cloudy. I look across to aisle 10 where they have a rack of cheater reading glasses. That’s it, that’s all I need, a pair of magnifying glasses so I can read the small writing. I’ll start with something low, like 1.25, that’s the lowest. They don’t look horrible and if I only need them for reading then these should be all right. Where’s the chart? WTF? The chart is blurry too? 1.50. Better, but maybe 1.75, perfect. Jeez Louize, 1.75? Whatever. Two weeks later I’m back looking at the 200+ with a case because I need to bring the fucking things with me everywhere I go. WTF?
I said to Maureen, “could this get any worse?” She didn’t answer. A bit louder, “Can this get any worse?” Come on now, I need someone to make me feel not old, so one more time this time real loud, “CAN IT GET ANY WORSE?” My answer? “For the third time! What the fuck are you talking about?” OMFG! My hearing now? Did I really not hear her the first two times? Maybe she was speaking away from me? Yea, that’s it, it’s the acoustics! I didn’t hear because she didn’t project AT me. But I bought some extra Q Tips just in case. Now if I can only remember where they are.
Yea right! Remember! That’s on the way out too. Hell I can remember an incident back 5 years ago pretty well but don’t ask me what I had for dinner last night, cuz I don’t remember. Dude Where’s My Car has become my reality. Let me review, instead of rolling joints my joints ache, and creak, and snap crackle pop. My skin isn’t tight enough to fit my body and it leaves wrinkles no iron can flatten out. The only thing that gets wasted anymore is my waistline and even with a belt nothing fits right anymore. I need to plan any road trips around bathrooms because while my bladder hasn’t physically shrunk it seems to get much more impatient and desperate than it used too. I can’t see or hear good but that doesn’t matter because I wouldn’t remember what I saw or heard anyway. I don’t go out but my back does and by the time the last candle on my birthday cake is lit the first one is a blob of melted wax. Shit man if I do eat the cake I get indigestion, which has a baseline. Speaking of bass lines, music that used to be classic rock is now golden oldies and golden oldies are now Fossil Rock. Does aging gracefully mean I don‘t pee when I sneeze so I don‘t really need a diaper? Depends!
Whatever, the big-bottom line is I am getting really concerned about all this because there’s only two things I can think of left to lose, sex and sanity. If worse comes to worst a little pill from the Doc will solidify one problem, that won’t be hard, er, well, yes it will be hard but it won’t be…. you know what I mean! At this point I need to worry more about dementia, about becoming senile. I can fix the penile but senile is another story. I know what senile is, I worked in a Nursing Home for many years and I witnessed a lot of senile patients. Wandering around not knowing where they’re going or why, stopping and talking about random things then forgetting what they were saying, concerned only about what’s for dinner. I can only assume senility is the next step. That sux! …..Or does it? Now that I think about it, those patients were happy walking around doing the Thorazine Shuffle like they were so stoned they didn’t know where they were. Is that senility? Totally stoned all the time, worrying about nothing but what’s to eat, and not being accountable for my actions? Kinda like the old days when we smoked weed by the ounce then went to 7-11. Not feeling quite so bad now, pills to keep me digesting, pills to keep me going, pills to keep me up, maybe some pills to make me feel stoned all day and not responsible for any thing I do or say? WTF, bring it on senility, give me a few extra bong hits of the shit!! PEACE

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GIVE ME THAT OLD TIME ROCK AND ROLL

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Pat-Benatar-Pearl-Concert-Photo

I was fortunate enough to see Pat Benatar and Neil Giraldo the other night. Patty didn’t need to wear a dress of dead fish or turkey fat, she didn’t have to French kiss a hammer while humping a foam finger, no sound altering microphones or computer generated sounds, no lowering down from the ceiling dressed in some elaborate masquerade attire or riding on a wrecking ball in a feeble attempt to be sexy, no bells no whistles, just plain good old fashioned down to earth rock and roll.. And it was powerful!
Patty was wearing tight black pants an a black leather jacket and looked amazing. Neil wore his trademark cuffed jeans and spats. The acoustics were not the best I’ve ever heard but Patty’s voice was strong and powerful, even though working through a cold. Neil’s guitar work sizzled as always and in the show the stopped and talked to the audience and made it as intimate as was possible in a large theater. They played many of their fan favorites lasting an hour an a half of non stop rock an roll mixed with stories and questions. They came on for an encore an another trademark, Heartbreaker and Ring Of Fire. Amazing talent and amazing tenacity made for a pure rock and roll concert with no frills.
Rock an Roll is overloaded with novelty acts covering up the fact that half the artists lack real talent or credibility to entertain on their merits. Computer enhanced or image altering technology allow kids to scream at marginally talented artists whose only genuine trait is likeability, juts like the popular kids in high school. There are some talented rock groups around today but you really have to search for them through a maze of plasticity and silicone of all types. Back in the day artists inspired us by breathing life into their voices, guitars, keyboards, horns, and drums and giving their songs emotions. Concerts whipped us into frenzy’s by being loud, precise, and creative. Mot of today’s empty acts try to out shock each other to entertain. Sorry young ones but you can keep your bullshit versions of rock, I still like that old time rock and roll, the kinda music just soothes the soul ……PEACE