Thursday, December 30, 2004

One of the very few things I am afraid of is....

Hello all my loyal readers.

SOme of you who are reading this know me personally, some of you don't. Those that do will know that my father is one of my favorite people in world, warts and all. ( I hate that expression by the way.) I am afraid for him. J.D., as he likes to be called, has found himself back in the hospital, and it is my fear that he is going to be there until he passes away. I just have this feeling.

My father hasn't always been what people would call "nice", but that's only because they see the gruff and tough show he puts on for others. In truth, he is one of the nicest, sweetest people I have ever known. Of course he used to smack me around when I was a jackass. I deserved that, and it was mostly because I caused undue stress to my mother. Someone who my father has been devoted to for over fifty years. He has also taught me everything you need to know about being a man. And I don't mean all this tough-guy, hardass bullshit either. J.D. was never afraid to show affection to his children, and he has always been proud of having a large brood. He has shown me that in order to achieve anything, you have to work for it. You don't take shortcuts, (unless driving) and you always do your best, because a half-assed job will always have your name on it. He taught me that pain shouldn't hold you back, and that sometimes life hurts and won't give you a break. I learned these things not from his words necesarily, although some things were spoken, but mostly from his actions. There are so many other things, that I just don't have space to enumerate here.

My father has always done anything he can to help somebody out, or to provide for his children. Often going without just so we could have things we wanted. I look back a little guiltily at times for the things I did have growing up. We weren't rich, but I never went without anything. He could fix a meal that would make people literally beg to come over and eat, and he did it on a shoestring budget. To this day, my friends will truly fight over eating the last meatball, which he taught me to make.

My father lived everyday in pain. He has broken almost every bone in his body. He fell from a roof he was working on, and had a tanker truck back over his legs immediately afterwards. He has been struck by lightning, and had hot asphalt (tar) blow up and cover his upper body. Hell, on his seventh birthday, he was run over by a car, and shattered his arm, among other injuries and could have died. The doctors wanted to amputate, but my Nana wouldn't let them. She knew my father would pull through it, because he was a tough son of a bitch. On top of all the aching from old injuries, he also has arthritis, and two fake knees. Until his stroke, none of this stopped him from doing the things he did.

The whole point of this post though, was to tell you one the very few things I am afraid of. Well, J.D. is one of those things, not because he can be pretty damn scary when he's pissed, or because he was one of the strongest men I have ever seen. No. But because I was afraid of being a disappointment to him.

I love my father very much, and the thought of losing him before I make him proud is one of the things I am very afraid of.

Wednesday, December 29, 2004

Twas the week after christmas.....

and all through the house.
All the creatures were stirring, even the mouse...

Sigh....we have a mouse that lives on our back stoop. It has eaten it's way into the wall, and every time I take the dog outside, the cat stands by the door and tries to get out to eat the mouse.

Corkscrew (the wondercat) is not exactly spry (being a 13 pound cat in an seven pound body), but damn can she move when she thinks there is a tasty something to be had after the exertion.

Thursday, December 23, 2004

We used to have hard wood floors.

I loved the floors in our house, they had that warm glow of hardwood about them. Almost outdoorsy. Alas, our hardwood floors are no more, for we have a german shepard named Thor. For anyone who has had a GSD in the past, or currently, you know what I mean. We have what ammounts to carpeting on our floors now due to Thor's shedding. If I happen to walk around barefoot in the house, I can safely go outside barefooted in the freezing weather thanks to the protection of a quarter inch of fur. (Slight exageration there....slight.)

This is ridiculous. I sweep two or three times a day. No noticable difference after an hour or so.

I brush the the point that he looks at the brush with genuine hatred now. No noticable difference. (Unless his "Mommy" is holding the brush, in which case it is fine, because Mommy can do no wrong in Thor's eyes....grrr.)

We are going to order a "Shedless Pet" grooming tool, and see if that helps. But for fucksakes WHY does the dog shed like this?

Sunday, December 19, 2004

The diligent staff at the Soapbox, before Harley passed away.
Looky Here!

Some poeple have wondered what I actually look know other than "big and scary", so here ya go. I call this "Full frontal Rudity".
Looky Here!

Saturday, December 18, 2004

This is littlejoe's back, just moments after receiving his third tattoo in july. Take note that this tattoo would take up an entire "normal persons back, but LJ is a genetic freak.
Looky Here!

You know you're in trouble as an author when...

Your first attempt at writing anything substantial is a novel.

Said first novel is going to be three parts, and part one is over three-hundred pages. Keep in mind, part one was just an introduction to my world, the main protagonist, his peripheral characters, the main antagonists, their peripheral characters, and as healing of sorts, for myself after having given up alcohol. Part two actually has STUFF to do, and I am long-winded, but not in that J.R.R Tolkein way, more in a Robert Jordan meets Clive Barker way. Meaning I like to graphically decribe everything bad that happens, while lightly seasoning that with brightness and hope.

You take a year long hiatus from writing your novel. I am not a diligent writer, and being sick just made me not care enough to write anything. A double whammy indeed.

Your ideas come in spurts at such times as.....
In the middle of the grocery store.
While walking the dog.
During "intimate time".
During "intimate alone time".
Any other time I don't have a free hand or a pen and paper handy.

You find yourself quoting pop culture figures. And I don't mean good pop culture figures either.

Somebody has an idea very similar to yours, and has a movie made about it before you are done with fifty pages. (It actually turned out that the movie in question was NOTHING like my book, thank god. The premice however sounded similar in the previews.....WHEW, close call.)

You get sidetracked by writing short stories that make no sense, or even worse, make total sense and are predictable.

The outline you wrote four years ago has only a bare minimum of influence on the book you are writing.

You think writing on the fly is a good thing.

And the worst thing that let's you know you're in trouble as an author is.....


You type nearly ninety-five words a minute with five

You know you have problems.....

When you download, and then put into a protective binder, all the maps for a video game.

I have officially taken a step towards "SUPER-NERD" status.

Even the dog is looking at me lovingly wrapping each map in it's plastic holder with mixed emotions. It's almost as if he is saying, "Hey Dad....does this mean we go on even shorter walks?"

I am a bad parent. Bad. I am only glad I am not in charge of any human life in this household. I mean sure, Thor, and Corkscrew (the wondercat) get love, and plenty of "people food", I can't help but wonder what they think when I spend hours in front of this machine, typing away, or playing video games.

Oh, as for that typing thing. I have been working on my book again, I had to scrap my original Part 2 beginning, in favor of something a little more character-centric.

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

Wow...alot can happen in a MONTH!

Hello everyone, if you still check here...great! If not, I understand, and you aren't reading this anyway. So....

I have been on a temporary hiatus from the blog, but that is changing as of now. I noticed that, if I don't have anything to write about, it gets tedious just doing so for the sake of doing so.
In the last month I have started to see a Chiropractor (sp?). I did not start going because of any back problems have. I started going because my wife works with the wife of one of the Docs, and said her husband has cured people of spontaneous syncopy before. (I think "Whatever dude...nobody else can figure it out, might as well try it.) This has been an enlightening month or so for several reasons.

1. I am a mutant freak. I have thirteen sets of ribs. Normal people have only twelve. Mice and armadillos also have thirteen sets of ribs. Coincidence?

2. I have extra bones to protect the blood flow to my brain. Only 20% of the population has this feature, and of those 20%, 90% are asian. Weird.

3. Chiropracting, while supposedly giving relief of pain and other crap, really just hurts like hell. I never had back pain in my life, and now I am in pain everyday.

4. My spine not only has a sideways curve, but some of my vertebrae are twisted and facing odd directions.

5. My neck has a recurve in it that made the Dr. visibly wince. That's always assuring.

6. Chia herbs will not grow unless you plant them. I still have the damn things in a box, and guess what? No fresh herbs.

7. I cannot be trusted to go christmas shopping on my own. I always go over budget, even when only visiting two stores.

8. Thor, and Corkscrew (the wondercat), will only tolerate each other if you don't look at them. As soon as they think you may see them being friendly, one of them has to go into psycho attack mode.

9. I am a superhero-holic, and cannot stop creating new characters on City of Heroes.

10. I have an eighty pound lap dog. Who is afraid of the 5 pound whatever-dog next door.

11. I have a built in prejudice, and even mild hatred of anyone who uses the words, n00b, l337, ub3r, r0xx0r, pwns, or any other "leet speak". An example of this would be, "dewd u n00b, I pwned yer azz wit mah ub3r l337n3ss, I r0xx0r!!!1111!!eleven!!11!!"

12. Pain is a powerful motivator. Not that this is anything new to me, I knew this already, but I hate going to see any Dr., of any kind, and I am looking forward to my next chiro appt. because it relieves the pain they started for a couple of hours.