Howdy!

A collection of satirical, political, spiritual and humorous writings and ramblings on various topics, including current affairs and issues, the Great Awakening, health, toxins, prepping, bachelor life, and more. Look for commentary and stories meant for understanding, and even a good chuckle, as well as some useful tips and insights. Hermit tested and approved√

Please check or re-check the 'Seminal' video series OFTEN for updated content &/or videos...GT

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Whether the Weather is Good or Not

Daym! All day without the need for A/C--again. Seems I no longer have an excuse to get out there (yes, outside the house) and DO something. For so long now, I have had a horribly hot and humid excuse to stay in and slack off. You see, whether the weather is good or not can depend upon your own motivations (or lack thereof).

There's a heap 'o stuff to do out there, for sure. My nemesis is the remainder of the scraping and painting that never got finished the other day (OK, maybe a couple years back). Of course, its the worst part. A lot of the remaining siding has the stubborn greasy-blackened 'Podunk residue' on top of peeling paint, so it either needs a good  washing or a wash and a sweeping before it can be scraped and primed. What a pain. What is it that they are putting in the air around here? Maybe it will rain...

Anyways, everyone knows that the 'weather' in the 'great indoors' is nearly always great (hence, the saying), so one can never blame not doing shit on the temperature or humidity there (dammit). Its not that I don't have shit to do indoors, too, but it seems easier to dodge when strapped to a LazyBoy, somehow. Plenty 'o work to do in the kitchen, bath, and yes, painting inside, too. Ugh. Come to think of it, its a bit nippy in here; if the temp goes down enough tonight, I can write off all paint-related crap till midday, and by then, I'll likely be way too beat to do any real work. [Yes, work is indeed a four-letter-word!] On second thought, maybe I'll fix on that computer thats been staring at me from the floor for a week--get something done that produces some satisfaction, and the guilt-painting valence will likely rapidly diminish...OOooh, yeah, that's the ticket!

Saturday, September 25, 2010

California Dreamin'

(This here's one of those 'oddball' posts I pull outta my ass; it's about dreaming, and maybe about California, or something along those lines...)
Dreams--and weird dreams, especially--can be disturbing. Supposedly, dreams are the window to the soul; an avenue to the subconscious. Freud was big on dreams, but I dare say he was no better interpreting them than the average person on the street. Personally, I think he was kind of a sick bastard, with his Oedipal complex bullshit, and all. That was the real 'Sigmund', if the truth be known (yeah, I had to put up with learning all his *wack*! theories enroute to getting my BA in Psychology). Yes, he was a momma's boy--and a namby-pamby one at that. (/opinion).

Anyways, I'm going to try to get this down before i forget; a weird one from last night:

So, I'm traveling on some lonely back road, on my way to who-knows-where (California?), when I come across a road-side station with some kind of 'attraction' meant to suck in tourists. Of course, its filled with the local townspeople, who likely stop in during the day just to get a chuckle out of the 'tourists'. They populated about half the tables and stools in there, sipping coffee, or whatever they sip out there in the sticks. Seems like this place was waaaay out in the sticks, but I couldn't tell you where, exactly. Anyways, I come in, hoping to get a beverage, and to get a chuckle out of the locals (they GOTTA be Podunks....). I soon encountered a young lady who was kind enough to help me get a bottle--a glass bottle--of soda out of one of those old-timey slider-type ice/water filled soda "coolers". Yeah, it was pretty old looking, predating those new-fangled refrigerated coolers them thar city-slickers probably have. "Gosh", I said, "I haven't seen one of those in years". The gal kinda sneered and commented something about how nobody else around there could seem to get the bottles out, either, so she was forever 'waiting' on people just to get their sodas. I thought briefly about giving her a tip, then shrugged, and blew that one off...
To my amazement, she only charged me a dime.

Soda in-hand, I casually browsed about the place, and I came across a little area which, apparently, housed several farm animals, and an old, fat, fluffy dog. OK, I guessed this was the so-called 'attraction' meant to suck in the tourist bucks.  Upon closer examination, however, I realized that they were really just holograms of farm animals, except for the big fat pig, which was some form of animated paper mache´ figure. As I got closer to each holo-animal, they would go kind of 'fuzzy', flicker, and then fade from view. A local in overalls, straddling a chair there, said something about how messy the REAL ones used to be. The large, pink sow-thing seemed to just wander around the grounds. I thought it funny that someone (a local?) had kicked a gaping hole in its backside. Odd, but nobody had bothered to repair it, I thought. I laughed, to myself. Making my way out of that 'virtual zoo' area, I stopped to pet the dog, who seemed to enjoy the brief scratching I gave him behind his ears. "Whew!", I thought, "...at least this one is real".

Then, I noticed that my soda was tasting rather odd, and it began to have a slimy texture to it "shit!!" I exclaimed, as I gazed around for somewhere to drain the bottle. Finding a spittoon next to a local chewer, I emptied the bottle, which yielded some green, oozy stuff, not unlike algae. "Well, I'll keep the bottle," I thought, "it's probably a collector's item, anyways". So, now finding myself unslaked, I figure its time to get a beer. "Shore!" says the store-keep gal, warning me beforehand, "But we aint got much of a selection". That was putting it mildly; there were only two cans of (warm) beer to be had, and by the labels (these were actually TIN cans) they both looked like they predated the war (WWII). Figuring they had a chance to be intact, I purchased them both for a dollar.

I sipped my (warm) beer while looking for a stool, when in comes the tallest damned redhead I had ever seen. She was sobbing, and was mumbling something about nobody wanting her (was it because she was 6'5"?). Tall, but attractive; I gave her a passionate kiss, and pushed her back towards the post she was leaning on. "Did my good deed for the day," I thought, with an air of accomplishment. Then I woke up...

Well, that's about it--ended abruptly, and without resolution, as with most dreams. Just thought I'd get this one down, given how unusual it was. Anyone wanna take a crack at the symbolism or interpretation?
Lol,
GT

Thursday, September 23, 2010

"Cheap-Ass-Bastard" (CAB) Tips: Eating Out...

As you well know from my previous writing on the subject, one is discouraged from squandering their ill-gotten gains on frivolities like 'eating out' at restaurants. However, given that one may tire of the drudgery inherent to preparing one's own food, and the reality that everybody will do so, at times, I've decided to provide a few useful guidelines and tips to allow filling of the belly, without emptying of the wallet:
  • First, keep in mind the cardinal rule: its not about the quality of the food, but the quantity, in relation to what one must spend (#/$$/meal/pp ratio). Forget about both taste and nutrition value--remember, sedentary beings require few nutrients. Focus on the ratio. A genuine "Cheap-Ass-Bastard" (CAB) endeavors to get a whole lotta chow for the buck! Plan on going to places as close to home as possible, to both save time and lower transportation costs.
  • Set a 'spending rule'; place a (psychological) price-point limit that you are willing to pay for a meal, and stick to it! Masterful CAB spending allows up to 7 (yes, seven) dollars for a real splurge-fest, but 'everyday'-type meals around $3.00 are more reasonable--try to maintain a goal of spending as little as $2.50/meal/pp.
  • Coupons are your friends; use them often! No self-respecting CAB will ever pay full price for a meal. Many come right to your mailbox, and others are online or in local newspapers and 'PennySaver'-type publications (free). You get bonuses for cheaping-out with a buffet coupon!
  • Buffets and 'Dollar menus' are your best friends! OK, the buffets are for splurging. Local burger joints and mexican/taco 'restaurants' nearly always have the cheap-ass foods you love, at a ridiculous price. Given the time, effort, waste, and direct costs involved in preparing your own meals, these places may even be cheaper than if you fixed them at home. Real CABs go for the dollar-or less menu items+ water, of course.
  1. Buffet Tips: Never order any drinks (unless they come with the buffet price)--drink water, and then restrict all drinking, so you can fill the stomach with excessive quantities of solid foods. Go for meats! breads and veggies take up precious space reserved for fats and proteins. Chew well, and take your time; one could spend a couple hours pigging out at any given buffet, if one gets there at the start. Let food settle between trips. (try this!)
  2. Burger Joint Tips: You can have anything you like, as long as its on the 'Dollar' menu, but go with water for drinking, of course. If you want to fill up, order two burgers (instead of one plus fries), unless there is someone to share a fry (eg., 1 Lg. fry per 3-4 people cheaping-out together). if you just need something to eat, try a double-cheap-burger and a large wa-wa--we're talking about $1 +tax/meal/pp! Given the place has the dollar menu you're after, and even that you are gonna pig out, we're talking about a meal for $2-2.50 pp! (If you solo this, and you just have to get fries, go for the dollar fries or 'small' with your double-cheap-burger). Believe me, either way, you will get beau-coup calories, fat, and sodium enough to last all day.
  3. Taco Joint Tips: One of my favorites is the taco joint, or facsimile, with a condiments bar! These places can fill you up with their bean & staple foods on-the-cheap! Whether you are ordering for there or to go, you can load up on condis to reap some of the best ratios imaginable--approaching $1/meal/pp! The only disadvantage is that you must go inside to load up the goodies. However, with a condiments bar, you can transform two puny-ass bean burritos, simple tostadas or tacos into masterpieces of culinary delight, brimming with so much food that it will not only fill you up, but you will likely have food to go left over. I personally go with either two burritos or a burrito and tostada combo (off the dollar or less menu [eg., .89 each], we're talking two bucks for a potential two-meal-deal!). Load these up with the fresh tomato/onion salsas, liquified salsas, jalepenos, more onions, and whatever else  available to transform puny, deficient entrees into huge, overladen, vessels of plunder! Unroll that burrito and stuff 1/2# of veggies and salsas in there, and then chow out! Stuff and take the other item with you for another quick meal at home, later. (try this anywhere there is a condiment bar!) Water for here, please....
Well, these are GT's best tips for cheap-ass bastards. Try these techniques and apply the rules to 'save the green' wherever you go, when you just have to eat out. You can go to these same places and drop a huge wad of cash for more lavish menu items, but hey, it's all going to turn into smelly brown stuff by the next day, and the nutrition values/caloric content will be similar (or worse)--So, just don't do it...

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

WTF? Abducted by Aliens?






Help! I may have been abducted by aliens! 

That might sound kinda crazy, but, it's possible...I guess (ok--I don't remember--satisfied?). It all has to do with my seemingly paranormal lapses in both time and memory, on an epic scale. These two phenomena, 'missing time' and/or memory loss, have both been associated with the bizarre; alien abductions, hallucinations, and psychopathology. Although I'm pretty sure the latter two can be ruled out, I just can't shake the 'abduction' thing. The problem is, most so-called abductees have memories of the abductions, and the usual schema relating to aliens, spacecraft, and yes,  the dreaded 'anal probe' (Oh, no! Not the anal probe! ). Suffice it to say, I don't have any conscious recollection of that sort whatsoever--I just can't remember shit, and I have no clue as to what has occurred in the near past.  Sure, I can remember certain events and conversations, but as to when they actually occurred, I have no concept. I now (cleverly) use the phrase "...the other day" when attempting to convey some temporal aspect of a given event. Problem is, it could have been the other month, or even 'sometime in the last few years'--it still seems like it was 'just the other day', to me--I have no clue.

WTF? Where does all that time go? It is more than a bit disturbing that I am apparently no longer able to distinguish or relate to temporal events in the near-past. What is my near-past? I don't have the foggiest. The other day, I got a two month's past due notice re: my dog's heart worm meds. Man, I raced over to the calendar, and then to the drug cabinet, and wondered "WTF?" as I peeled off a page on the calendar and tossed an (empty) medicine box into the trash. Had I lost an entire freaking month? It seems dubious. Granted, given the right contextual cues, I may be able to whip out some details even Brainiac 5 would be proud of. Regardless, I would still be left blinking if someone inquired about when, and likely where, I learned said detail. "Ummm... well, the other day, not long ago..."  


I guess having shit for memory can have some advantages. I can watch reruns and old movies without getting bored (or sometimes even without a clue re: what happens next). Its also a great excuse for 'forgetting' someone's birthday, ands/or missing so-called 'important' deadlines or appointments. Even if you get excoriated  for screwing up, you likely won't recall it, soon enough--a win-win.

Now that I got to thinking on this, it seems as though these lapses are fairly recent phenomena, and *not* attributable to 'old age' (I'm not that old). Mayhap it is related to this podunk town I ended up in? Yes, that must be it. Blame the freakin'  podunks, and their bass-ackwards ways! They probably spike the water (or air?) with some native concoction (shamanistic substance?), in order to 'dumb-down' anyone who stays long enough to absorb 'x' amount of it--there are a lot of 'Native-Americans' here, ya know. 


Q: Why would 'they' do such a thing?  Maybe so the population doesn't seem as ignorant and in-bred as they truly are...AHA! Further, if one stayed in the area long enough, one's IQ would dip down into the L-O-W double digits, blending in with the locals, perfectly. OK, I see it all now; a system devised as a means of adding a bit of genetic diversity into their stagnant gene pool. There is a chance that breeding could occur, even here... (Man, I gotta get outta here, and soon!). Ok. So, this whole memory/time losing thing probably wasn't about an alien conspiracy, after all--it's more likely a 'podunk' thing...

More on Podunks, later...
GT

Friday, September 10, 2010

Holy Crap, I'm a Writer!

You know how people say, "Hell, I oughta write a book" or "you oughta..."? Well, ideally, one would need to be a 'writer' to accomplish such a feat. Myself, I don't really read books, per se, so nobody would expect me to write one, or to become a writer. I will assume the term doesn't simply designate an ability to write--the whole idea is quite nebulous, don't you agree? Therefore, given that few people (if any) know what prerequisites or training are actually involved in becoming a writer, I'm going to 'just do it'--POOF!--I'm a writer! Whoa! I never thought it would be so easy. Amazingly, until a few minutes ago, I actually didn't know that I am indeed a writer (in fact, as I write this, I'm becoming even more convinced).  Now that we have established my credentials,  let me assure you that I plan on putting the 'bullshit' back in blogging, for sure, with a collection of ramblings and (true) bullshit any (well...) momma could be proud of.

So, what does it take to be a writer, anyways? Let's explore this issue, just to make sure my new-found [a]vocation isn't a fluke, or a figment of a deluded imagination--I'll generate a simple list here to elucidate the defining aspects of a character who writes about characters, both real and imagined, or simply blather off a whole lotta bullshit, and call it 'writing':

  • First off, one either has to have a wide range of experiences from which to draw upon, or one helluva imagination, in order to express the depths of insanity--I mean humanity--required to properly develop a character: check√
  • Next, one must have beau-coup time to 'waste' on such a frivolous undertaking. This means one is either independently wealthy, retired, or living off  'the dole' (sponging or leaching off others included): check√
  • Of course, one must have a firm grasp of ze 'english', or whatever language is involved, including correct spelling and usage, some degree of grammar and sentence structure, etc. Alternatively, one can have a good dictionary/thesaurus, and/or a ghost-writer, or just be able to 'wing it' by the 'dazzle them with BS' method: check√
  • One must have a sense of humor. Although this sense is quite ill-defined, it's a must-have. There are many kinds of humor, so take your pick: check√
  • Finally, one needs a readership; some population or collection of freaks willing to read (or buy[?]) your voluminous assortment of verbalisms. In the case of blogs like this, the target population is: whoever is out there that stumbles across it--someone will read it, and like it: check√
Ok, so there you have it; definitive proof that I am a writer--no ifs, ands, or buts. I knew it! Look Ma, I'm a WRITER!