Friday, August 31, 2007

Her Cups Runneth Over (5)

This is the fifth installment of a short story which began HERE.

A torrid sun; a tropical paradise; a frustrated writer; a cheating wife; a mysterious sultry woman... the ingredients for a forbidden affair? Or the recipe for murder and the perfect crime?


I was at once both relieved and perplexed. There was no doubt in my mind that that the bikini bra was Nova's. The fact that it existed proved that she was not a figment of my imagination. What was perplexing was the fact that I was standing there holding it in my hands. How did it get here? Nova had been wearing nothing beneath that red dress. She had not even been carrying a purse or a clutch in which the bra could have been hidden. I realized also, that there were other hidings places on her person, but I had explored those extensively and often throughout the night.

I was balancing the bra in both hands, the cups nestled in my palms. I marveled how little material there actually was. The vision of her on the beach returned. Why, when she was wearing the bra and before she removed it - her cups runneth over. I relaxed, it was no time to be waxing poetic. I was staring into the unlined well that had once housed her perfect upturned breasts. Perfect. Strange, but that word broke the erotic reverie into which I was drifting. Perfect? It was all too perfect!

Some mystery writer I was! I was being set up! The bra had been planted there ... in the drawer with my underwear! It would suggest that I had possibly killed my wife with her panties and had then hidden her bra there. I paused to sort my thoughts which were rambling from one tangent to another. It didn't make sense! Why not put the bra in with my wife's underwear?

I crossed the room and stood before the woman's dresser. Funny I thought, in all the years we had been married, I had never once opened her underwear drawer. I pulled the drawer open and gazed upon the contents. It came as no surprise that there was not a single pair of panties among the carefully arranged bras, stockings and negligees that filled the drawer. I picked up one article and holding it arm's length let it fall unfolded. It was a fishnet body stocking. Angrily I rolled it into a ball, thrust it and the blue bra atop the other underwear and slammed the drawer shut.

I cursed Eve and all of her previous paramours. How many of those men had gazed upon her body clad in that revealing fishnet garment? How many of them had hungrily, greedily peeled it from her wanton supine body? How many of them had had their way with her? In a cruel sense of irony, I inexplicably envied them.
My thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. I picked up the handpiece and answered. It was my shadow, 'Ollie' the cop. He and his partner 'Stan' happened to be in the area and wanted to know if they could see me. They had some lab results and wanted to go over them. Curious, I thought, why didn't they have me come down to the station?

While I was waiting for them to arrive I was struck with a dubious thought. What if the bra had not been planted to incriminate me, but for some other reason? What if I and I alone was meant to find it in my drawer? What if I was being led deliberately to my wife's underwear drawer? Was I supposed to have found something in there? If so, what had I missed?

I pulled the drawer open. Everything was neat and orderly except for the bra and the fishnet piece I had only moments before thrown there. I carefully folded them as best I could. Like most men I was not exactly adept at folding clothing. Placing the articles on top of their respective like garments, my eyes scanned the drawer's contents. Was I wasting my time? Where was it? I began lifting each of the underthings to see if something was hidden between them.

I drew in my breath, there was something there tucked in between the lacy negligees. It was an envelope! I pulled it out carefully so that the neat piles were not left in disarray. Across the front of the envelope written in a not so unfamiliar handwriting was the single word "Eve."

So tense was I that the rapping at the door startled me and I dropped the envelope onto the floor. I bent over and swooped it up. I wasn't paying attention to where my head was in relation to the open drawer and nearly knocked myself for a loop on its sharp edge. One hand clasping the envelope and the other rubbing my head I saw that damned blue bra had been ejected from the drawer and had come to rest next to my foot.

Once again there was rapping at the door. "Coming! I'll be right there!" I shouted. With my foot I nudged the bra under a raised arch in the dresser's decorative wood trim. As an afterthought, I closed the drawer and pushed the envelope into the same recess as the bra. Satisfied they were not visible, I moved to the door.

"Come in, officers. Sorry for the delay. I was about to take a shower."

"No problem, Mr. Earle," said 'Ollie' as he walked by me followed by his lanky partner. He produced a worn notebook from his back pocket and stood before me as the other one seemed to be inspecting the room. I drew in a breath of relief that I had remembered to turn off the laptop which was on the desk in front of where 'Stan' had paused.

"I believe we are very close to completing our investigation. First however, I do want inform you of the lab reports from forensics," he said glancing at the notebook in his hand. "It has been confirmed that your wife did indeed have sexual intercourse with two men before her death." He studied my face for the reactions to his words. I stared back, emotionless.

He continued, "We have the two men down at the station as we speak. They are set to be released shortly." He raised his hand and extended a finger as I started to protest. "While they both admit to having had sex with your wife, Mr. Earle, they have ironclad alibis as to their whereabouts at the time of her death, which by the way, the coroner has determined to have happened between ten and ten-fifteen pm last evening. He paused again as if practicing dramatic flair. "There were five witnesses who claim to have been with the men at that same time."

He finally allowed me to speak, "Then if they didn't kill my wife, who did?" I emphatically cried at the stoic officer. I could sense 'Stan' advancing behind me. I began to tremble. "You ... You think I did it, don't you?"

To be continued.... HERE.


Thursday, August 30, 2007

Computers in the Movies

You can learn a lot from the movies. Back on 8/14, I ran a post on that very subject, I Learned This At the Movies.

Well, it turns out there's a lot to be learned about computers from the movies! In fact I found 25 interesting things that you can learn about computers on the Silver Screen...

1. Word processors never display a cursor.

2. You never have to use the spacebar when typing long sentences.

3. All monitors display 2 inch high letters.

4. High-tech computers, such as those used by government institutions such as NASA or the CIA, have easy-to-understand graphical interfaces.

5. Those that don't will have incredibly powerful text-based commands that can correctly understand and execute commands typed in plain English.

6. You can gain access to any information you want by simply typing "ACCESS ALL OF THE SECRET FILES" on any keyboard.

7. Likewise, you can infect a computer with a destructive virus by simply typing "UPLOAD VIRUS." Viruses cause temperatures in computers, just like they do in humans. After a while, smoke billows out of disk drives and monitors.

8. All computers are connected. You can access the information on the villain's desktop computer, even if it's turned off.

9. Powerful computers beep whenever you press a key or whenever the screen changes. Some computers also slow down the output on the screen so that it doesn't go faster than you can read. The *really* advanced ones also emulate the sound of a dot-matrix printer as the characters come across the screen.

10. All computer panels have thousands of volts and flash pots just underneath the surface. Malfunctions are indicated by a bright flash, a puff of smoke, a shower of sparks, and an explosion that forces you backward. See #7, above)

11. People typing away on a computer will turn it off without saving the data.

12. A hacker can get into the most sensitive computer in the world before intermission and guess the secret password in two tries.

13. Any PERMISSION DENIED has an OVERRIDE function.

14. Complex calculations and loading of huge amounts of data will be accomplished in under three seconds. In the movies, modems transmit data at two gigabytes per second.

15. When the power plant/missile site/whatever overheats, all the control panels will explode, as will the entire building.

16. If you display a file on the screen and someone deletes the file, it also disappears from the screen. There are no ways to copy a backup file -- and there are no undelete utilities.

17. If a disk has got encrypted files, you are automatically asked for a password when you try to access it.

18. No matter what kind of computer disk it is, it'll be readable by any system you put it into. All application software is usable by all computer platforms.

19. The more high-tech the equipment, the more buttons it has. However, everyone must have been highly trained, because the buttons aren't labelled.

20. Most computers, no matter how small, have reality-defying three-dimensional, real-time, photo-realistic animated graphics capability.

21. Laptops, for some strange reason, always seem to have amazing real-time video phone capabilities.

22. Whenever a character looks at a VDU, the image is so bright that it projects itself onto his/her face.

23. Computers never crash during key, high-intensity activities. Humans operating computers never make mistakes under stress.

24. Programs are fiendishly perfect and never have bugs that slow down users.

25. Any photograph can have minute details pulled out of it. You can zoom into any picture as far as you want to. Example: "What's that fuzzy thing in the corner? I don't know, let's check. It's the murder weapon! Let's look under the bed for the killers shoes. no, just some comics books (Marvel 1954, very rare). Let's check the closet shelves...!"


Wednesday, August 29, 2007

A Redneck Does Cyber Sex

Howdie do, folks. I'm Clyde S. Dale. Y'all don't knows me, but you knows my boy Cletis Clyde. Now iffin you be a-wonderin' why he ain't got the same last name as his pappy, that's coz me and his maw never got hitched. So's he was brung up to pick the Christian name he wuz a gonna go by when he was growed up. He decided to use his pappy's name. Now why he up and picked my first name, I been a puzzlin' and scratchin' my head over that one fer some time now.

Well, his name pickin' be danged. That's not why I been invited for this here guest posting gig at that feller Hale McKay's website. It turns out he was a-lookin' for somethin' funny to post about that there Sy Burr sex stuff what a lot of people seems to be carryin' on about. Well, I don't rightly know who Sy Burr is or why so many people want to have sex with him, but I figures he must have more a-draggin' than what most menfolk in these here parts have a-hangin!

It jest so happens that Cletis decided to go on the computer to find out what all the fuss wuz about. He asked me what I thot of the whole thing. Well I told him somethin' funny 'bout a hole, but he didn't think it was none too funny. Ya see, someone done stole that prize watermelon of his'n out back a couple of weeks ago.

Now where wuz I? Oh yeah, anyways, I told him the best advice I cud give him was that when he signed up fer one of them chat rooms he shud make a scream name for hisself. When he asked me 'How come?' I said he shudn't use his real name in case he dun went and knocked up one of those Sy Burr gals.

Ya'll recall what I said 'bout his name choosin'? Well he signed hisself up as "I'm_Not_Cletis." I gotta give him his due propers for pickin' a purty dern good one. Jest the other day he logged on and asked me to sit with him in case he got all tongue-tied and cudn't think of anything to say. I told him iffin he wuz gonna be tryin' to type with his tongue, then there wuz no way I wuz a-gonna be sittin' there next to him.

Seein' as I have a photogenic memory for things what I sees and hears, I commissioned to memory the really good stuff what transpired when he started a-talkin' to some sweet virgin gal. She musta been too, coz that's the scream name what she wuz a usin': "Virgin_Gal." Now, Cletis thot she wuz prolly usin' one of them scream names. But I told him I didn't think so, coz most them folks on-line weren't as smart as us and didn't know any better.

Well, here 'tis, my prescription of what done took place when those two got to Sy Burr Sexin':
I'm_Not_Cletis: Hello, Virgin_Gal. What do you look like?
Virgin_Gal: I am wearing a silk blouse, a miniskirt, fishnet stockings and high heels. My measurements are 36DD-24-36. What do you look like?

Cletis: I am 6'7" and about 150 pounds with my clod hoppers on. I'm wearing dungarees and a white muscle tee-shirt with fried chicken stains from supper on the belly.
Virgin: I want you! Would you like to screw me?

Cletis: Well golly, sure!
Virgin: We're in my bedroom. There's soft music playing on the stereo and candles on the dresser. I'm looking up into your eyes. My hand is on your crotch and it is fondling your huge, swelling bulge.

Cletis: (Pant-pant) Nope! My hand done got there first.
Virgin: You put your hands on my breast...

Cletis: Tarnation, girl. Ain't you got more than one?
Virgin: I'm pulling up your tee shirt and kissing your chest. You are unbuttoning my blouse. We are both getting hot.

Cletis: I'm beginning to sweat. Dammit, Pappy! Would you quit breathin' so hard so close to me! Push back some, would you?
Virgin: ? ? ? Oh yes! I'm rubbing against you and pushing back!

Cletis: I done pulled too hard and ripped your silk blouse. I couldn't get those fool buttons undone!
Virgin: You're taking charge. You're animal strength is making me hotter! You begin to reach behind me to unhook my bra. I'm moaning.

Cletis: You know, my Maw always gives me a bicarbonate for belly aches.
Virgin: ? ? ? I'm throwing my head back in pleasure. The cool silk bra slides off my warm skin. I'm rubbing your bulge faster and faster. I'm pulling at it and rubbing it.

Cletis: Gosh darn it, girl! You been a rubbin' my swiss army knife all this time in my pocket next to where you should be rubbin'.
Virgin:? ? ? My soft breasts are rising and falling, as I breathe harder and harder. The air caresses my breasts. My nipples are erect for you. I'm arching my back. Oh baby. I just want to feel your tongue all over me.

Cletis: Oh, shit! You gotta excuse me, Virgin_Gal. I gotta go squirt!
Virgin: ? ? ? What? You're going to leave me like this ... all hot and wet?
Cletis: I'll bring you back a towel!
Virgin: ? ? ? Hurry! Please hurry!
Virgin: Hello?
Virgin: Hello? Are you there?

Cletis: I gotta go. I can't do this any more.
Virgin: What? Why in the hell not?

Cletis: I done got it caught in my zipper!! And I done pissed all over your toilet seat, your walls and your floor. I even pissed in your laudry hamper. My God! I'm bleeding!
Virgin: Oh dear. Come here, lover. I'll kiss it and make it all better.

Cletis: Damn it!
Virgin: Now what?

Cletis: Now I done knocked over one of your candles.
Virgin: ? ? ? Well don't just stand there. Pick it up!

Cletis: You aren't goin' to believe this ... Your carpet, your curtains and wall paper ... they are all ...
Virgin: What about them? What in the hell are you doing?

Cletis: I'll be right back. I'm calling 9-1-1!
Virgin: Never mind! I'm getting dressed. I'm putting my torn blouse back on. I'm logging off. I'm going to bed, you loser!

Cletis: Wait! Can I ask you something?
Virgin: Yes? What is it?

Cletis: You wouldn't by any chance happen to have any marshmallows lying about, would you?
Well, there you have it. That was how my boy, Cletis' first day went in one of them Sy Burr Sex rooms. He's been back in there a few times lookin' for that Virgin_Gal, but he ain't seen hide nor hair of her. I tried telling him she prolly is using a different name now and that maybe he should change his'n too.

All he had to say on the matter wuz that the next time he hooks up with that gal, he's gonna make sure he has his own marshmallows. That's why I'm so proud of him, he always manages to keep his priorities straight - even when he has his head up his ass.


Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Taking a Bite Out of Crime

I'm sure some of you are familiar with the site The Generator Blog. If you are not, Gerard, the Webmaster there is having his web content stolen. By clicking on the link above you can read his posting about the theft.

He also has put up a link to the thief in question, who has had the audacity to not only steal his content, but the "smart" individual is even using Gerard's name and his e-mail address.

A lot of us fans to his site have taken up arms and visited the offender's site and in turn have been "flagging" it. Also, on two of five other blogs the blog crook has up and running, the comments feature has been enabled. Some of us have left the perpetrator our thoughts on his conduct.

Gerard's site provides links to generator sites across the web and is updated often. I have used images, fonts, captions, etc., here many times. I have seen the same on many sites on my blogroll.

Why not pay Gerard a visit and "flag" the thief too. If you have the time, leave a comment on the guy's other sites too.

I'll speak for Gerard - he'll appreciate it very much.

The images on this post were all created tonight from visiting just one of The Generator Blog's links. In addition to the most recent posts, his sidebar has links to literally a hundred or more generators from the web.

A visit to his site, especially if you've never been there, can turn into a visit of several hours if you're not careful.

While most of us, a lot of us, some of us, a few of us, a handful of us, I do "borrow" material from the web, it takes a downright LOWLIFE to steal an entire blog!

Won't YOU take a bite out of crime too?


Monday, August 27, 2007

Pickup Lines, Comebacks and Dating

Profiles? Chat Rooms? Computer dating?

Ah, give me those good old days when we were single and playing the field. The bars and the clubs ... The pickup lines ... Ahem, the comebacks ... The dating ... The conquests ... Being shot down in flames ...


Man: "Haven't we met before?"
Woman: "Perhaps. I'm the receptionist at the VD Clinic."

Man: "Haven't I seen you someplace before?
Woman: "Yeah, that's why I don't go there anymore."

Man: "Is this seat empty?"
Woman: "Yes, and this one will be too if you sit down."

Man: "So, wanna go back to my place ?"
Woman: "Well, I don't know. Will two people fit under a rock?"

Man: "Your place or mine?"
Woman: "Both. You go to yours and I'll go to mine."

Man: "I'd like to call you. What's your number?"
Woman: "It's in the phone book."

Man: "But I don't know your name."
Woman: "That's in the phone book too."

Man: "So what do you do for a living?"
Woman: "I'm a female impersonator."

Man: "Hey, baby, what's your sign?"
Woman: "Do not Enter"

Man: "How do you like your eggs in the morning?"
Woman: "Unfertilized !"

Man: "Hey, come on, we're both here at this bar for the same reason"
Woman: "Yeah! Let's pick up some chicks!"

Man: "I know how to please a woman."
Woman: "Then please leave me alone."

Man: "I want to give myself to you."
Woman: "Sorry, I don't accept cheap gifts."

Man: "If I could see you naked, I'd die happy:
Woman: "Yeah, but if I saw you naked, I'd probably die laughing".

Man: "Your body is like a temple."
Woman: "Sorry, there are no services today."

Man: "I'd go through anything for you."
Woman: "Good! Let's start with your bank account."

Man: "I would go to the end of the world for you.
Woman: "Yes, but would you stay there?


When the Cows Come Home

Two teenagers wander off to the bushes during a softball game on the outskirts of their small town and start necking. After a while the guy abruptly stops. "You know we've been doing this for weeks now and I think it's time we had intercourse," he pleads.

"Well, maybe," she says. "But I'm a virgin and I heard it hurts. Besides, all those people in the field may hear us."

The boy pauses and then says, "Hmmm, well then if it hurts start making cow sounds, and I'll stop. But if it feels good, start singing. That way no one will ever guess what we're really doing!"

The girl agrees, so the two hastily take off their clothes and get down to business. Ten minutes later, people watching the game hear sounds echoing through the quiet countryside so loudly that the teams stop playing. "Mooooooooo ..... Moooooooo ..... Moooooon River .....!"
Romantic in the Mountains

Two young lovers go up to the mountains for a romantic winter vacation. When they get there, the guy goes out to chop some wood.
When he gets back, he says, "Honey, my hands are freezing!"

She says, "Well put them here between my legs and that will warm them up."

After lunch he goes back out to chop some more wood and comes back and says again, "Man! My hands are really freezing!"

She says again, "Well put them here between my legs and warm them up." He does, and again that warms him up.

After dinner, he goes out one more time to chop wood for the night. When he returns, he again says, "Honey, my hands are really freezing!"

She looks at him and says, "For crying out loud! Don't your EARS ever get cold?"
The Farmer's Daughters

There once was a farmer who was raising three daughters on his own. He was very concerned about their well being and always did his best to watch out for them. As they entered the late teens, the girls dated, and on this particular evening all three of his girls were going out on a date.
This was the first time this had occurred. As was his custom, he would greet the young suitor at the door holding his shotgun, not to menace or threaten but merely to ensure that the young man knew who was boss.

The doorbell rang and the first of the boys arrived. Father answered the door and the lad said, "Hi, my name's Joe. I'm here for Flo. We're going to the show, is she ready to go?" The father looked him over and sent the kids on their way.

The next lad arrived and said, "My name's Eddie. I'm here for Betty. We're gonna get some spaghetti. Is she ready?" Father felt this one was okay too, so off the two kids went.

The final young man arrived and the farmer opened the door. The boy started off, "Hi, my name's Chuck . . ." And the farmer shot him.


Sunday, August 26, 2007

They'll Never Say That

Eat your heart out Janet Jackson.
Now this is a Wardrobe Malfunction!

The Last 11 Things Any Man Would Ever Say:

I think Barry Manilow is one cool artist.
While I'm up, can I get you a beer?
I think hairy butts are really sexy.
Her boobs are just too big.
Sometimes I just want to be held.
That chick on Murder She Wrote gives me a woody.
Sure I'd love to wear a condom!
We haven't been to the mall for ages, let's go shopping and I can hold your purse.
Screw Monday Night Football, let's watch Murphy Brown.
I think we are lost, we better pull over and ask for directions.
No, I don't mind watching "Thelma and Louise" again.

The Perfect Day According to ... HIM

10:00am - Wake up
10:02am - Oral sex
10:15am - Big breakfast
11:30am - Drive up the coast with gorgeous blonde with big boobs
2:15pm - Enormous lunch
3:00pm - Oral sex
3:15pm - Play sports with the guys
4:00pm - Drink beer with guys
6:00pm - Meet Claudia Schiffer
6:10pm - Oral sex
6:25pm - Huge dinner, more beer
11:00pm - Full on, get down, gorilla sex


The Last 11 Things Any Woman Would Ever Say:

Could our relationship be more physical? I'm tired of just being friends.
Go ahead and leave the seat up, it's easier for me to douche that way.
I think hairy butts are really sexy.
Hey, get a whiff of that one.
Please don't throw that old T-shirt away, the holes in the armpit are just too cute.
This diamond is way too big!
I don't mind throwing all these useless shoes out.
I won't even put my lips on that thing unless I get to swallow.
Wow, it really is 14 inches!
Does this make my butt look too small?
I'm wrong, you must be right again.

The Perfect Day According to ... HER

8:45am - Wake up to hugs and kisses
9:00am - 5 pounds lighter on the scale
9:30am - Light breakfast
11:00am - Sunbathe
12:00pm - Lunch with best friend at outdoor cafe
1:30pm - Shopping
2:30pm - Run into boyfriends ex, notice she's gained 30 pounds
3:00pm - Facial massage and nap
7:30pm - Candle light dinner for two and dancing
10:00pm - Make love
11:00pm - Pillow talk in his big strong arms



Compliment her, cuddle her, kiss her, caress her, love her, stroke her, tease her, comfort her, protect her, hug her, hold her, spend money on her, wine & dine her, buy things for her, listen to her, care for her, stand by her, support her, go to the ends of the earth for her....


Show up naked, with beer....

Did you miss chapter 4 of Her Cups Runneth Over ? Read it here to catch up on this sexy mystery.


Saturday, August 25, 2007

Micro - TREK

The Internet - the final frontier. These are the forays of a Blogger. His mission - To explore strange new sites - Steal good material - To boldly go where this Blog has gone before!

(The following was taken from an aptly named site Lots of Jokes.)

Picard: "Mr. LaForge, have you had any success with your attempts at finding a weakness in the Borg? And Mr. Data, have you been able to access their command pathways?"

Geordi: "Yes, Captain. In fact, we found the answer by searching through our archives on late Twentieth-century computing technology."

Geordi presses a key, and a logo appears on the computer screen.

Riker: (looks puzzled). "What the hell is 'Microsoft'?"

Data: (turns to answer). "Allow me to explain. We will send this program, for some reason called 'Windows', through the Borg command pathways. Once inside their root command unit, it will begin consuming system resources at an unstoppable rate."

Picard: "But the Borg have the ability to adapt. Won't they alter their processing systems to increase their storage capacity?"

Data: "Yes, Captain. But when 'Windows' detects this, it creates a new version of itself known as an 'upgrade'. The use of resources increases exponentially with each iteration. The Borg will not be able to adapt quickly enough. Eventually all of their processing ability will be taken over and none will be available for their normal operational functions."

Picard: "Excellent work. This is even better than that 'unsolvable geometric shape' idea."

... 15 Minutes Later ...

Data: "Captain, We have successfully installed the 'Windows' in the command unit and as expected it immediately consumed 85% of all resources. We however have not received any confirmation of the expected 'upgrade'."

Geordi: "Our scanners have picked up an increase in Borg storage and CPU capacity to compensate, but we still have no indication of an 'upgrade' to compensate for their increase."

Picard: "Data, scan the history banks again and determine if their is something we have missed."

Data: "Sir, I believe there is a reason for the failure in the 'upgrade'. Apparently the Borg have circumvented that part of the plan by not sending in their registration cards.

Riker: "Captain we have no choice. Requesting permission to begin emergency escape sequence 3F . . ."

Geordi: (excited) "Wait, Captain I just detected their CPU capacity has suddenly dropped to 0% !"

Picard: "Data, what does your scanners show?"

Data: "Apparently the Borg have found the internal 'Windows' module named 'Solitaire' and it has used up all the CPU capacity."

Picard: "Lets wait and see how long this 'solitaire' can reduce their functionality."

... Two Hours Pass ...

Riker: "Geordi what's the status on the Borg?"

Geordi: "As expected the Borg are attempting to re-engineer to compensate for increased CPU and storage demands, but each time they successfully increase resources I have setup our closest deep space monitor beacon to transmit more 'windows' modules from something called the 'Microsoft fun-pack'.

Picard: "How much time will that buy us ?"

Data: "Current Borg solution rates allow me to predicate an interest time span of 6 more hours."

Geordi: "Captain, another vessel has entered our sector."

Picard: "Identify."

Data: "It appears to have markings very similar to the 'Microsoft' logo"

Over the speakers...

Data: "The alien ship has just opened its forward hatches and released thousands of humanoid shaped objects."

Picard: "Magnify forward viewer on the alien craft"

Riker: "Good God captain! Those are humans floating straight toward the Borg ship with no life support suits! How can they survive the tortures of deep space?!"

Data: "I don't believe that those are humans sir, if you will look closer I believe you will see that they are carrying something recognized by twenty-first century man as doe skin leather briefcases, and wearing Armani suits."

Riker and Picard: (together horrified) "Lawyers !!"

Geordi: "It can't be. All the Lawyers were rounded up and sent hurtling into the sun in 2017 during the Great Awakening."

Data: "True, but apparently some must have survived."

Riker: "They have surrounded the Borg ship and are covering it with all types of papers."

Data: "I believe that is known in ancient vernacular as 'red tape' it often proves fatal."

Riker: "They're tearing the Borg to pieces !"

Picard: "Turn off the monitors. I can't stand to watch, not even the Borg deserve that."

So comes to close another thrilling adventure from the Captain's Log.

(Unknown to the crew of the Enterprise an old nemesis, the evil Q has returned and has put Counsellor Deana Troi in a rather compromising position.)


Friday, August 24, 2007

Her Cups Runneth Over (4)

This is the fourth installment of a short story which began HERE.

A torrid sun; a tropical paradise; a frustrated writer; a cheating wife; a mysterious sultry woman... the ingredients for a forbidden affair? Or the recipe for murder and the perfect crime?


No dentist had ever administered to me such a potent dose of Novocaine. Nova, Ms Nova Caine, what have you done to me? My thoughts were purged of everything that was not her. I crumbled the note she had left for me at the front desk. A letter of reference? What letter?

I shoved the note into my jacket pocket and rose from the lobby chair. If I was going to find her, I would have to talk to the bartender in the hotel lounge. I had to begin somewhere, after all that was where I had met her. When I reached the lounge entrance I was greeted by Laurel and Hardy, my recently devised nicknames for the two local police officers who had been investigating my wife's murder.

"Ah, Mr. Earle," said Officer Hardy. "It's most fortunate, that while we were about to look for you that you walk practically right into our hands." I swallowed hard forcing down a groan of dread. If they had just left the lounge, then that meant they had been checking out my statement. No doubt the bartender told them about the woman.

"Look," I stammered, "...About the woman..."

He raised his hand and shook his head, "It's no problem. Under the circumstances, how could you be expected to remember being interrupted by that young lady while you were having a few drinks? It was commendable of you to sign a letter of reference for a perfect stranger. According to the barkeep she was quite a looker too. Other than that, your alibi checks out!"

He touched the brim of his hat and said, "If you'll excuse us, we have to get back to the station. There will be some preliminary results from forensics waiting for us." He turned to walk away and then added, "You will keep yourself available, won't you ... just in the event we need to contact you?"

"Yes. Yes, of course." I watched them until they disappeared through the hotel entrance. The recent developments had more twists than I ever wrote in my mystery novels. With determined resolve I entered the lounge. I needed to know why the bartender had lied to the officers. Why would he want to cover my ass?


Seeing my approach to the bar he began pouring my drink of choice. I settled onto the bar stool and took a long drink from the glass. The bartender leaned over the bar and said, "I'm so sorry to hear about your wife, Mr. Earle. Tragic, just tragic." He waited until I acknowledged his sympathy with a barely perceptible nod before adding, "The local fuzz was in here just a while ago. They were asking about you: 'How long were you here, were you drunk, did you say anything or act suspicious in any way, were you with anyone?' I told them what I saw and heard."

I looked at him, trying to read him, all the while wondering why he had lied. "Yes, I know. I ran into them in the lobby." I shoved my glass toward him and motioned for a fresh drink.

He placed the drink in front of me. I could sense that he already had his answer ready before I asked the questions. "Tell me," I said deliberately measuring my words, "Why didn't you tell them about the woman in the red dress? Why did you tell them about a woman looking for a reference? We both know that didn't happen."

He didn't bat an eye but replied, "Now, Mr. Earle, I've been tending bar for as long as I can remember, and I have learned to pay attention to even the smallest details." He extended his hand and began counting on his fingers, "Number one, there was no woman in a red dress! Number two, one gorgeous young woman asked you to sign a letter of reference! Number three, you signed it! And number four, you were drunk!" He was almost glaring at me, "I must confess that I didn't think you were all that drunk. You walked out of here with no problem."

I opened my mouth to speak, but he raised his hand and said, "Unless you want another drink, you'll have to excuse me. I have some work to do." He turned and walked away to the other end of the bar. I could see that I wasn't going to get any more out of him, so I downed the contents of the drink and left.


Once in my room I plopped down on the edge of the bed. I was exhausted. I had had very little sleep. I bolted upright in anticipation as memories of the night before sprung into my head. The bed linens would still be holding traces of our love making! Just as quickly, however, my hopes were dashed. The maids had already been there. The bed had been made!

I took one step in the direction of the door. If I could only find the maids ... I shook my head and cursed my myself at having such a preposterous idea. What was I going to say to them, "Excuse me. Could I see the sheets from my bed? I want to check them for wet spots ... er ... love stains! "

I began pacing about the room. There I was, an accomplished and successful author of mystery novels embroiled in a mystery, the likes of which I could never have imagined. I didn't, I couldn't have imagined everything. The memories and the details of them were too vivid. I drew back the curtains and looked upon the beach, the very beach where I had first laid eyes upon her. I clenched my fists and shouted to no particular audience save one, "Where are you? Who are you?"

Presently I found myself before the keyboard of my laptop. I thought that if maybe, just maybe if I could lose myself in my novel, I would come to my senses. Either I had dreamt the events of the night before or I was on the verge of going stark raving mad. One thing, and only one thing seemed certain, and that was the fact that my wife was dead!

Dumfounded I stared at the words on the screen. My novel was further along than I had remembered, much further along! In stunned disbelief I read how the author-turned-detective hero had become a prime suspect in the murder of his wife. Then he'd hooked up with an exotic beauty named ... Nova!

I rose from the desk in horror. Not only did I not remember restructuring the entire plot of the novel I had started, but I had apparently been rewriting it to coincide with my own real experiences. My God, I thought. What if the police were to take a gander at my computer's contents, and in particular my novel?

When did I start rewriting my novel? When had I found the time? Last evening had been consumed by my time with Nova. I paused and abandoned all thoughts of physically being with her. Was it possible that I had killed my wife? If so, then by exacting my desires to be rid of her, was I sick enough to record my exploits under the guise of a novel? Then that could mean only one thing: Nova was either a willing or an unwitting acomplice, or she was a figment of my imagination!

Not a moment too soon, I gathered my thoughts. I reached into my jacket pocket. The note from the front desk, it had to be there! A great burden was lifted from my shoulders as I looked upon the crumpled note. Its content was exactly as I had thought it would be. I stared at the single capital letter serving as the signature - "N." Nova was real!

With renewed energy, I moved to the dresser for some fresh clothes. After a quick shower I was going to renew my mission. I was going to find her. She, it seemed, was the key to whole shebang. Once all the questions would have been answered, then there would be another matter in need of attention. Through it all, I wanted her. I intended to have her again.

I was not prepared for another twist of events when I opened a dresser drawer. My eyes fell upon a strange bit of material, which had been placed beneath my undershirts. I prayed the article of clothing wasn't what I thought it might be. I felt a sudden weakness as I held the blue material before my face. It was a blue bikini top!

To be continued ..... HERE.


Thursday, August 23, 2007

Dark Clouds O'er Me


There was a dark cloud over my head today and it sure seemed hell bent to follow me everywhere I went!

Some of you will be familiar with Joe Btfsplk, a character from Al Capp's L'il Abner comic strip. He was always depicted with a dark cloud above his head. This pathetic man was a well-meaning soul, but he was a jinx, a pariah. Bad things always happened - to everyone else - whenever he was around.

My day started off well enough ... then I opened my eyes. I stubbed my toe on the dresser while executing that critical first-thing-out-of-the-bed-mad-rush-maneuver to get to the bathroom. It was occupied! I could hear the shower water running inside. You don't need me to tell you that the last thing you want to hear when you have to 'race like a piss horse' is the sound of running water!

While I was performing the modern day version of an Apache dance, standing first on one foot and then the other with the free leg in turn crossing and pressing hard against my groin, it seemed like an eternity. As it was, the dance was difficult due to pain in the injured toe. Not unlike crimping a garden hose to stay the water flow the dance was working, although I feared soon that the pent up pressure would eventually begin seeping from my eyes.

I wasn't surprised to find that the bathroom door was locked - from the inside. It was payback for all those earlier years of marriage grab-assing. Those were the good old days when I would stroll into the bathroom while she was in the shower and partake of grabbing her buttocks, cupping her breasts, or stroking the kitty. In later years I was forced to promise to keep my hands to myself on such occasions. I never was one for promises and as a result she began locking the door. In other words, there was a time and a place, and the mornings in the bathroom was no longer tolerated.

Anyway I digress. I found myself in the kitchen looking for an empty cola can or bottle, any suitable receptacle. That tempting 16-ounce glass was spared (Hey, I was getting desperate!) as I heard the sweet music of the bathroom door opening. What a relief it was as I dutifully contributed to rising level of the oceans.

Didn't I say in matters such as this, that I wasn't one for promises? As I left the bathroom I couldn't resist grabbing the edge of the towel she had wrapped around herself. Wise to my old tricks she managed to keep the towel about her, and loosening my grip. My arm, primed to pull, flew back and slammed my wrist against the door frame. (My wrist is still sore thirteen hours later as I'm typing this.) I know, that'll teach me.

Okay, husband and wife intimacies behind me, I was soon on the road on my way to work. It's not unusual to anoint several other drivers as number ones and today was no exception. When one asshole in a Sebring convertible decided to pull into the lane ahead of me without the courtesy of directionals, something told me to apply the brakes. WHAM! A panel truck at that very moment backed out a blind alley and plowed broadside into the asshole's car. Asshole number two who had been moments before tail-gating me decided to whip around me on the right.

I'm certain that there was some law of physics that could have been applied to next moment. When Car A was struck by Truck B and was pushed into the lane that Car C had just gunned himself into, then Car C was bound to be struck by Car A. Meanwhile Truck D, driven by myself was unscathed due to the application of the brakes. It was fortuitous that I was able to maneuver across the other two lanes and turn onto a side street and thus was able to put the accident scene far behind me.

About four hours later on the way to my third client I noticed steam coming from under my hood. I was in bumper-to-bumper traffic and could not turn for about three miles. I watched my temperature guage with great interest. With dread I watched the needle start to slowly rise. I cursed the several red traffic lights.

When I arrived in front of the clients house, I popped the hood. The water reservoir for the radiator was empty. The engine was wet. A hose had let go, or worse yet my radiator had sprung a leak. With the air-condition unit in place I could not locate from where the water and steam were escaping.

I was moving a china hutch for the client to retrieve some papers that had fallen behind it. I bent down to pick them up, but when I stood my shoulder hit the edge of a hanging picture. It fell from the wall and broke the glass. She really loved that picture too. I offered to replace the glass and have the picture remounted, but she refused. She said her daughter would take care of it. I asked her to let me know what the bill was and I would give her the money.

The engine cooled off during the two hours I spent with that client and thanks to her for allowing me to use her garden hose, I was able to top off the water level. I noticed her hose was leaking from a couple of pin holes. I hoped they were already there.

I made it to the next client without the engine over heating or losing any significant amount of water. I thought of that old saying wherein all things supposedly happen in threes. Let's see, there was the near accident, my radiator/and or hose, and the broken picture glass. Not being superstitious I did say to myself "That's three. I should be out of the woods." Then I suddenly remembered how my day had started. I had stubbed my toe and whacked my wrist. Uh oh, that made five!

This client had bought a new futon - still in the box. She wanted to know if I could assemble it for her. It was not something I was looking forward too at that point in time. Nonetheless I put it together without incident. Oops! I lied. I did scrape my knuckles against one of the bolts when I was moving it to where she wanted it situated in the room. The bleeding under control and a couple of bandages applied, I was none the worse for wear. Who's counting, but that was six! She gave me an empty gallon juice bottle which I filled with water to take with me on my trip home.

I pulled into the driveway at home with a cloud of steam trailing behind me.

I don't know if Joe Btfsplk's cloud will be with me tomorrow or not, but the spectre of it will remain on my drive to the mechanic's garage in the morning. (Sigh!) How much is it going to cost me? Cross your fingers and wish me luck, friends, that it is a hose and not the radiator!


Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Celebrity One-Liners

The Clintons

Q. How will everyone remember Bill Clinton in history?
A. The President after Bush
Q. What's the new game there playing in the White House?
A. Swallow the Leader
Q. What's Monica's favorite instrument?
A. She's good at the piano, but she sucks at the organ!
Q. What's the difference between Bill Clinton and Santa Claus?
A. Some people still believe in Santa Claus.
Q. What's the difference between Hillary and Bill?
A. Hillary doesn't get caught.
Q. What is the difference between Dan Quayle, Bill Clinton and Jane Fonda?
A. One has two boobs, the others *are* two boobs.
Q. Bill and Hillary and Al and Tipper takes a boat ride, the boat capsizes, who gets saved?
A. The United States of America!
Q. Why doesn't Bill like old houses?
A. He's afraid of the draft.
Q. Why does Hillary always get on top?
A. Bill can only screw up.
Q. When will there be a woman in the White House?
A. When Hillary leaves town.
Q. Why does Hillary want to have sex with Bill Clinton first thing in the morning?
A. She wants to be the first lady.
Q. What's Bill Clinton's idea of safe sex?
A. When Hillary is out of town.
Q. Did you hear that Monica Lewinsky turned Republican?
A. The democrats left a bad taste in her mouth.
Q. Why did Bill Clinton stop playing the saxophone?
A. He was too busy playing the hormonica.
Q. Do you know why Monica got a stain on her dress?
A. She didn't keep her mouth shut!
Q. Why did Bill Clinton name his new dog Buddy?
A. He couldn't bear to say "Come Spot... Come Spot!"
Q. What's green and smells like Monica Lewinsky?
A. The pool table in the oval office.

Michael Jackson

Q. What famous celebrity had the most children over the last 10 years?
A. Michael Jackson.
Q. Have you heard about Michael Jackson's new book?
A. It's called, "The Ins and Outs of Child Rearing"
Q. What did Michael Jackson say to Woody Allen?
A. Got two fives for a ten?
Q. What's the difference between Michael Jackson and greyhound racing?
A. The greyhounds wait for the hares to come out.
Q. What's the difference between Michael and Connie Chung?
A. Michael's been able to have kids.
Q. Why does Michael Jackson arrange for private shopping?
A. So his guests won't be accompanied by guardians!
Q. What's the first problem Michael's child will have in life?
A. Figuring out which parent is his mother.
Q. What makes Michael Jackson so unique?
A. It's the little boy inside him.
Q. How did Michael get in trouble?
A. He was feeling a little Randy.
Q. Did you hear about Michael Jackson's new band?
A. It's called the Jackson Five and Under.
Q. What did the woman tell Michael Jackson at the beach?
A. Get out of my son!
Q. Why does Michael Jackson like twenty six-year-olds?
A. Cause there's twenty of them.
Q. What does Michael Jackson and a Nintendo have in common?
A. They are both made of plastic and kids turn them on.
Q. How can you tell if Michael Jackson has company?
A. There's a big wheel parked outside his house.
Q. How does Michael Jackson pick his nose?
A. From a catalogue.
Q. Why did Michael Jackson place a phone call to Boyz-2-Men?
A. He thought it was a delivery service.
Q. What has 18 balls and 3 pubic hairs?
A. A Michael Jackson slumber party.
Q. How does Michael Jackson know its time for bed?
A. When the big hand is on the little hand.
Q. What's the difference between Michael Jackson and a plastic bag?
A. One is white, plastic and dangerous to young children, the other is a plastic bag.
Q. What does Wal-Mart, Zellers and Michael Jackson have in common?
A. Boy's underwear half off.


Q. How do Helen Keller's parents punish her?
A. By putting a plunger in the toilet.
Q. What is the name of Helen Keller's dog?
A. Nyah, nyu, yuh, yah.
Q. What is forty feet long and has eight teeth?
A. The front row at a Willie Nelson concert.
Q. What do you call 5 dogs with no balls?
A. The Spice Girls!
Q. What has four legs and no ears?
A. Mike Tyson's dog.
Q. What do you get when you cross Raquel Welch with Santa Claus?
A. A thank you from Santa!
Q. What does Woody Allen call an unborn baby?
A. A blind date.
Q. Did you see Dolly Parton's new shoes?
A. Neither did she.
Q. How come Mike Tyson's eye's water during sex?
A. Mace
Q. What does Ellen DeGeneris cook for dinner every night?
A. She doesn't, she eats out!
Q. Why can't the government put Magic Johnson on a stamp?
A. Everyone would be afraid to lick it.
Q. What's white and sticky and found on the bathroom wall?
A. George Michael's latest release.
Q. What do you call a man with a blackhead on his penis?
A. Hugh Grant.
Q. How did Helen Keller's mother punish her?
A. By rearranging the living-room furniture.
Q. What did Helen Keller do when she fell down the well?
A. She screamed her hands off.
Q. Why does Helen Keller masturbate with one hand?
A. So she can moan with the other.
Q. Why was Helen Keller's leg yellow?
A. Her dog was blind too.
Q. What did Helen Keller's parents do to punish her for swearing?
A. Washed her hands with soap.

No. 1085

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Deja Views

Deja Vu Variants

Deja vu: The feeling you've been somewhere before when you know you haven't. We've all experienced deja vu in our lives at one time or another, but did you know there are many variations of deja vu that you may have experienced throughout your life? What follows is just a "small" list of examples.

Deja Blue Screen: The feeling your computer has crashed like this before.

Deja boo: The feeling that you've been frightened like this before.

Deja booze: The feeling you've been this drunk before.

Deja brew: The feeling you've had that awful coffee before.

Deja clue: The feeling that Colonel Mustard has done it in the billiard room with the lead pipe before.

Deja coup: The feeling our government has been overthrown like this before.

Deja cue: The feeling you have asked your 6-year-old kid how to download videos before.

Deja do: The feeling your hairdresser has given you this cut before.

Deja eau: The feeling you've smelled this perfume before.

Deja flu: The feeling you've been this sick before.

Deja fu: The feeling you've been kicked in the head like this before.

Deja Jew: The feeling you've wandered in the desert like this before.

Deja kazoo: The feeling you've hummed that song before and still don't know the words.

Deja knew: The feeling that you remembered this information before.

Deja loo: The feeling you've been to this bathroom before.

Deja moo: The feeling you've drank this milk before.

Deja mu: The feeling you've calculated the mean of this population

Deja muumuu: The feeling you've worn this dress size before.

Deja new: The feeling you haven't experienced this before. (AKA, "Vuja De" - Nothing like this HAS EVER happened to you before.)

Deja ooh: The feeling you've exclaimed at these fireworks before.

Deja oops: The feeling you've spilled coffee on your keyboard before.

Deja pew: The feeling you've sat on this bench before.

Deja poo: The feeling you've stepped in this before.

Deja Q: The feeling you've encountered this entity before.

Deja queue The feeling you've stood in the long line before.

Deja rue: The feeling you've regretted this day before.

Deja stew: The feeling that this is made from the pot roast your mom served the week before.

Deja threw: The feeling you've thrown a thing away before.

Deja too: The feeling that you've experienced this before, also.

Deja two: The feeling that you've experienced this before, twice.

Deja view: The feeling you've seen this blogsite before.

Deja who: The feeling you've known who was on first before.

Deja whew: The feeling you've gotten out of the same mess before.

Deja woo: The feeling you've dated him or her before.

Deja you: The feeling that YOU have experienced this before.

Deja zoo: The feeling that the monkey has done this in public before.

DUH-ja-vu: The feeling that the answer was so obvious, that you "surely" should have known it before. DUH

(From someone else's original list, I added a bunch more to essentially double the size of the list.)


Monday, August 20, 2007

Idiots! They're Everywhere!

Idiots Everywhere. Idiots to the left of me. Idiots to the right of me. Idiots in front me.

I was signing the receipt for my credit card purchase when the clerk noticed that I had never signed my name on the back of the credit card. She informed me that she could not complete the transaction unless the card was signed. When I asked why, she explained that it was necessary to compare the signature on the credit card with the signature I just signed on the receipt. So I signed the credit card in front of her. She carefully compared that signature to the one I signed on the receipt. As luck would have it, they matched.

An actual tip from page 16 of the HP "Environmental, Health & Safety Handbook for Employees: "Blink your eyelids periodically to lubricate your eyes."

I live in a semi-rural area. We recently had a new neighbor call the local township administrative office to request the removal of the Deer Crossing sign on our road. The reason: Many deer were being hit by cars and he no longer wanted them to cross there.

My daughter went to a local Taco Bell and ordered a taco. She asked the individual behind the counter for "minimal lettuce. "He said he was sorry, but they only had iceberg.

Buffalo Channel 4 News on October 20th,1999 informed its captivated audience that when selling their computer, the best way to erase the files on your computers hard drive is by drilling a hole in the drive its self! "By drilling a hole in the drive its self, you make it impossible for the new owner to get your files." No fucking kidding, idiot!


Sighting #1: I was at the airport, checking in at the gate, when the airport employee asked, "Has anyone put anything in your baggage without your knowledge?" I said, "If it was without my knowledge, how would I know? "He smiled and nodded knowingly, "That's why we ask."

Sighting #2: The stoplight on the corner buzzes when it is safe to cross the street. I was crossing with an intellectually challenged co-worker of mine, when she asked if I knew what the buzzer was for. I explained that it signals to blind people when the light is red. She responded, appalled, "What on earth are blind people doing driving?"

Sighting #3: At a good-bye lunch for an old and dear coworker who is leaving the company due to "downsizing," our manager spoke up and said, "this is fun. We should have lunch like this more often." Not another word was spoken. We just looked at each other like deer staring into the headlights of an approaching truck.

Sighting #4: I worked with an individual who plugged her power strip back into itself and for the life of her could not understand why her system would not turn on.

Sighting #5: When my husband and I arrived at an automobile dealership to pick up our car, we were told that the keys had been accidentally locked in it. We went to the service department and found a mechanic working feverishly to unlock the driver's side door. As I watched from the passenger's side, I instinctively tried the door handle and discovered it was open." Hey," I announced to the technician, "It's open!" "I know," answered the young man.- "I already got that side."

Sighting #6: I work in a hospital and one day the doctor and I were asking a pregnant lady some questions upon admission to the maternity ward. When we asked her who we should call in case of an emergency, she stated "911".

Sighting #7: My daughter was going over to the neighbors house to visit but didn't want to miss a call from her boyfriend so she took the cordless phone with her. While at the neighbors she wanted to check back at home to see if her younger brother was okay. My daughter then picked up the neighbors phone and dialed our number. While waiting for someone to answer the phone at home, the phone she brought over with her began to ring. She immediately hung up the neighbors phone and answered our phone. There was no one there. She wanted to know who it was who called so she used our phone to call our house. The line was busy. Getting very frustrated she left the neighbors to go home and see who was on the phone. No one was on the phone. My daughter could not figure out what was going on until someone explained it to her.

Sighting #8: As systems manager of an answering service a few years back I had the pleasure of working with an especially ignorant doctor. Our system was trying to fax her messages to her place of business when a message came back informing us her fax was out of paper. When I called her office and told her about this she replied, "Oh, I'm all out of bond paper. Could you fax me some?" I'm right fuckin' on it, Babe.

Sighting #9: I was in McDonalds one time when the lady in front of me ordered a cheeseburger and requested no cheese. Now I don't know about you but that sounds like a fucking hamburger to me.

Sighting #10: Many years ago I worked in a delicatessen. The assistant manager had burnt something in the oven and smoke was pouring from the kitchen area. When the store manager came by and asked why she hadn't opened the emergency fire exit door to allow the smoke to go outside she said, "I thought about it but I couldn't find the key!"

Sighting #11: I was sitting at my University bar with some friends the other day when we overheard a man talking on his mobile phone. He was saying that he wanted to "buy, buy, buy" some shares and "sell, sell, sell" some shares. Unfortunately for him, his mobile phone actually began to ring!!! The laughter in the bar was heard for miles!! Now that's what I call an IDIOT!

Sighting #12: A friend of mine and I were on a little road trip with his wife driving. Everything was pretty quiet when she turned to us and asked, "If you are driving 70mph, about how far would you go in an hour?" Oh yeah, she's a smart one.

Sighting #13: Calling the telecommunication company to inform them my phone didn't work and that when I picked up the receiver its completely dead, the technician said from the other end "Are you calling from the number of the phone that does not work?"

(I am not the "I" in any of the above. This "I" did not create any of the above. This "I" lifted it from somewhere sometime ago, when or where, "I" don't recall.)


Sunday, August 19, 2007

The Winds of Unrest

He that troubleth his own house shall inherit the wind: and the fool shall be servant to the wise of heart. - Proverbs 11:29

Drifting on the fringes of somnolence last night, a late night movie was both my companion and antagonist. Sleep was desirous, it was 2:30 AM, but the film's appeal was strong. In the end, the film held me hostage until the obvious absence of credits gave way to an acappella voice singing "The Battle Hymn of the Republic."

Its title borrowed from the biblical scripture above, Inherit The Wind by anyone's standards, is a superb movie. Anyone who has seen it can easily understand why it has a lofty ranking among the greatest films of all time. Those who have never seen it, should consider correcting that mistake by adding it to their 'must-see' list of movies.

Inherit the Wind, based on a 1955 stage play by the same name, was released in 1960. It was an allegorical film based on the famous 1925 Scopes Monkey trial which pitted the teachings of the Bible's creationism against the theory of Evolution.

Although the names of those involved in the original trial were changed, there can be no question as to whom each member of the stellar cast portrayed. Spencer Tracy's Henry Drummond, Frederick March's Matthew Harrison Brady, Dick York's Bertram Cates, and Gene Kelly's E.K. Hornbeck, represented respectively Clarence Darrow, William Jennings Bryan, John Scopes, and H.L. Mencken.

As in the actual trial, the judge ruled against the teacher finding him guilty of illegally teaching evolution and fined him $100. The ruling was appealed and the case went before the Supreme Court only to have the charges dismissed.

I have seen that film several times over the years. Only after watching the court room scenes of it before finally falling to sleep last night, did I actually realize how laws and religious beliefs are still clashing to this day. However, it's not the intrusion of science upon religious sanctity that is in the news.

It is cruel irony that our right to the freedom of worship is being twisted and manipulated until that very "right," in and of itself, is being used to deny the rights of others. Somehow, our right to freely worship, as guaranteed by our Constitution, is also being interpreted to mean that others who have different beliefs now have the right to challenge our beliefs.

To what end? Prayer has been wrested from our schools. "The Pledge of Allegiance" has all but been outlawed because it contains the word "God." The patriotic songs, "God Bless America" and "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" are under siege because they too make reference to "God." How dare us use currency that expounds, In God We Trust !

The modern legal concept of religious freedom as the union of freedom of belief and freedom of worship with the absence of any state-sponsored religion, originated in the United States of America with the First Amendment which provided for the separation of church and state.

This issue was addressed by Thomas Paine in his pamphlet, Common Sense (1776):
"As to religion, I hold it to be the indispensable duty of all government, to protect all conscientious professors thereof, and I know of no other business which government hath to do therewith…"
The Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom was written in 1779 by Thomas Jefferson. It proclaimed:
"No man shall be compelled to frequent or support any religious worship, place, or ministry whatsoever, nor shall be enforced, restrained, molested, or burthened in his body or goods, nor shall otherwise suffer, on account of his religious opinions or belief; but that all men shall be free to profess, and by argument to maintain, their opinions in matters of religion, and that the same shall in no wise diminish, enlarge, or affect their civil capacities."
I have read the two statements above, which would serve as the basis for the First Amendment, and in neither "Common Sense" nor in the First Amendment is there even a hint that any one person or group can deny another person or group to their own beliefs.

It is the duty of our courts to uphold the laws of the land, in particular the Constitution. It is not their charge to interpret or to adjudicate otherwise. Our laws allow people to practice atheism if they believe in no god. We are free to pursue faith as Catholics, Baptists, Episcopalians, Adventists, and yes, to also practice Islamic and Buddhist faiths. However, no where is it written or implied that any member of any faith can dictate the beliefs of others.

Funny, I never took the word "God" to mean a specific god, and therefore an affront to anyone who worships a different god. After all, aren't Allah and Buddha, for example, gods also?

I fear that the message of Inherit The Wind has been lost. The venue has changed, we are not in a court of law, but rather we arguing our cases in a court of life. This time around it appears that the 'Matthew Harrison Bradys/William Jennings Bryans' of the world are winning. We need the 'Henry Drummonds/Clarence Darrows' to balance the scales suspended from the hands of blind justice that have been tipped precariously toward injustice by ... the winds of unrest.


Saturday, August 18, 2007

Things That Bug My Dog

A few days ago, I posted Ya Know What Bugs Me?, which gave a list which answered the title's question.

To my surprise my dog approached me and gave me of a list of things that bugged her. For the last couple of days she has been bugging me because I had yet to post it.

Okay Ginger, today the blog is yours!

(15 Things that Bug Dogs)

1. Leaving the Toilet Bowl Lid Down. - Humans just don’t understand that the water is cold, fresh and always tastes better there. For the little dogs that have never been able to “reach” this delightful experience – you don’t know what you are missing!

2. Not Sharing in the Fruits of Your Labor. - I don’t mean “fruit” actually. I mean that beautiful, 1½-inch steak you cooked to such aromatic perfection. We’re all part of the pack, right? Why am I not getting my share?

3. Not Understanding My Behavior. - Okay, so I like to greet strangers by leaping on them. I like to chase my tail by that lead crystal vase you call an heirloom. I’m not misbehaving; I’m a dog for crying out loud. It’s all good, like shadow chasing, helps build eye-to-paw coordination.

4. Bathing. - What is with the daily bath “thing” that humans do?And why do they inflict that obscenity upon me on occasion? Just when I think I am smelling fine, they bathe me. I really don’t understand. I’m only going to go out and roll in “something” again. They just don't appreciate the effort it takes to get that perfect doggie odor.

5. Rushing Me To Potty. - Don’t they know that there is a true art to finding the right spot? Just because they did not get up in time, they are running late, they want me to “Hurry up and potty.” Have a little respect. This is my chance to shine!

6. Being Away. - I love attention and being around people, noise and excitement. When you are away, at work, or running errands ... this is time away from me. Don’t you know? It is ALL about me. Your life should revolve around me AND I can make you regret leaving me behind....

7. Nail Trims. - They are my nails – I spend lots of time growing them and here they come again touching my feet. I hate that!

8. Not Letting Me Chase the Squirrel. - They torment me by placing a glass wall called a window between me and lots of critters outside. How annoying. All I want to do is “play” with them. The other thing they do is restrain me with this thing called the leash. I want to run forward and I am pulled back. If they can't keep up, they should just let me go. What is a dog to do?

9. Cat Nip. - Now this is one peeve that really annoys me. I see the cat roll and play and even cry out in joy in response to cat nip. I smell it, eat it, lick it and ... nothing happens. Nothing. I don’t get it.

10. Not Letting Me at the Mailman. - This is so unfair. I wait all day for the mailman and finally he comes. The anticipation is great. Then, they hold me back. Tell me to be quiet. Very annoying. They don’t appreciate the fact that the mailman comes everyday and I single handedly scare him away! My bravery and courage are unappreciated.

11. When My Owner is Playing with the Other Dog or Cat. - This really hurts my feelings. Seeing MY owner play with someone else. It is all about me... They really don’t understand.

12. Won’t Let Me at the Litter Box. - I think of it as an opportunity for a tootsie roll snack. My owners get all grossed out, run around and then actually deny me access to what I desire the most. I am actually helping to clean up. What’s the problem?

13. Expecting Me to Be at Their Beck and Call. - For a treat – I have to do some little humiliating trick and pretend I like it. What about independence, freedom and respect?

14. Sharing the Bed. - I don’t understand why I have to sleep on the floor. Why can’t I have the bed and they sleep on the floor? I work hard all day and night. I protect my owners, guard the house and scare away invaders of my castle such as the mailman, cats, squirrels, and a multitude of other creatures. I should be pampered.

15. Rolling up the Windows. - I feel such joy from the little words, “wanna go bye bye.” This gives me thoughts of having the window down with cool wind blowing through my hair, looking just dynamite as other dogs stare from the curbs in envy and awe. And just when I am really getting into it – head out, ear flapping, they roll up the window. Then I am forced to stare at other dogs going by with their heads out the window. Mega bummer.

…and one more for good measure:

16. Cats. - What really makes me angry is the agility and grace of cats. They have the gifted ability to jump up on things and escape under things with such ease. I really wish I could do that. When I try to do that, I inevitably break or knock something over.


Friday, August 17, 2007

Her Cups Runneth Over (3)

This is the third installment of a short story which began HERE.

A torrid sun; a tropical paradise; a frustrated writer; a cheating wife; a mysterious sultry woman... the ingredients for a forbidden affair? Or the recipe for murder and the perfect crime?


During the ride downtown the officers left me alone with my thoughts and grief in the back seat of the cruiser. It wasn't grief burdening me. I was becoming overcome with paranoia. I didn't kill my wife, and yet my tortured soul felt responsible. Was it not a grievous sin to wish someone dead? Did I really want her dead? Not once do I recall ever thinking how I would feel or react if she indeed did die. I tried to convince myself that I never wished her any real harm. All of those morbid thoughts of her demise sprung out of moments of anger, hurt, and shame.

The morgue was located in the bowels of the building which housed not only the police station, but the Mayor's office, the Registry of Motor Vehicles and a flower shop as well. I was struck by the irony of the flower shop as we walked the dimly lit hallways. "Can I help you, sir?" I said, "Yes, I'd like a dozen red roses." The lady behind the counter smiled, "For a special woman no doubt?" I grinned at her
"Nah! I'm just gonna stick them in the body drawer before they close it."

It was all I could do to keep from chuckling aloud. That would surely make a 'positive' impression on the two police officers with me! Yes, a grieving husband in a joking mood on the way to ID his wife's body, wasn't the normal reaction they would be expecting.

The place reeked of death and formaldehyde and I was nearly gagging as a large drawer was pulled open. The second policeman took my arm and guided me closer as the first one began to unzip the body bag.


Fifteen minutes letter I was sitting by the burly officer's desk as he hunt-and-pecked with one finger upon the keys of an antiquated Royal typewriter. I would have thought that a police station on an island resort would at least have an antiquated word processor.

He asked me all of the standard questions: When did I last see my wife? Had we had sex that night? Had we fought? What did I do and where did I go after she left? Could anyone confirm my actions and whereabouts? I knew that I would probably regret it later, but I conveniently omitted any mention of the woman Nova. It would have seemed all too cute if I was in the company of a beautiful woman while my wife was out being murdered. The police would've viewed it as a possible contrived alibi.

As he typed he spoke, annoyingly reciting each word. "Cause of death ... strangulation ... victim found hanging ... from a balcony railing ... by blue elastic material ... appears to be the ... bottom of her ...bikini swimsuit..."
He looked up at me and said, "I guess it's a fad nowadays for women to wear bikini bottoms in the place of underwear, eh Mr. Earle?"

I nodded and froze, not daring to show emotion. My mind was racing a mile a minute. She didn't put on any underwear when she went out! She had made a bold defiant point to make sure that I knew it. I was about to bring up that fact, but the words wouldn't form. "No! God no!" I blurted out.

The officer stopped and looked at me with keen interest. Realizing the error of my outburst I cried out, "You .. you're telling me that she was strangled ... hanged ... with her own underwear?" I bowed my head and buried it in my hands. The image of her naked body on that cold slab of steel was imprinted in my minds eye; the dark bruises that encircled her long neck, the raw lacerations on her knees, and the frozen fear on her face.

I listened trying to digest the man's theory of what might have happened to my wife. Although there were tests and of course the autopsy, for which I signed the waiver form, to be performed the next morning he seemed confident on several points. "There were traces of semen in your wife's vagina and about her mouth, and I'm only guessing, but it may have been from two different men." He glanced at me before continuing, "We're going to need to obtain some of your DNA. It's standard procedure, Mr. Earle. Of course, you can always refuse..."

I shook my head. If I refused it would only delay matters, besides, I wanted to know any and everything their investigation might uncover. "Of course, I'll cooperate with you in any way I can."

It was another hour before I was free to leave. I turned down their offer for a ride back to my hotel, opting instead to walk. I needed to be alone with my thoughts. Those thoughts were emotion-charged, running a gauntlet from sorrow, guilt, utter rage, and finally confusion. While I felt sorry that she may have suffered, I could not bring myself to shed a tear. For that, I felt guilt. The sorrow and guilt gave way, however, to a stronger emotion - rage! How could she? If it hadn't been bad enough that she was with another man, that night she had been with two men. My hands clenched into tight fists, my fingernails nearly drawing blood from my palms. I tried to convince myself that there had been separate trysts. I couldn't bear to think she'd been in the sack with two men at the same time!

The hotel was in sight as I began wrestling with the confusion of some troubling facts. First and foremost was the blue bikini bottom his wife had apparently been wearing, and which had been used to strangle her. I knew that she had left our suite wearing nothing beneath that miniskirt. So where did it come from?

Then there was Nova! The vision of her on the beach wearing almost nothing, save that tiny blue bikini, began replaying over and over in my head. The visions fast-forwarded to that moment where she had stood waiting by the door of my room as I stepped off the elevator. There was a stirring within my loins as that image of her red dress falling to her ankles unfolded as if I was only then living the moment. She had been wearing nothing under the dress.

Though I tried, I could not dismiss wondering if she had already used her blue underwear to strangle my wife! Why? She had no motive. She didn't know my wife. I wasn't sure if she even knew that I was in fact married. I felt a weight begin pressing upon me when I remembered that she had known who I was when we were sitting at the table in the lounge. She had known my name and that I was a published author. How much more had she known about me?

What did I know about her? I could describe every inch, every curve of her naked body. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly with the realization that except for the carnal pleasures we had exchanged, I knew absolutely nothing about her.

It wouldn't be long before the police would come to the hotel and begin asking questions to verify my answers to their interrogation. My story would be compromised once they talked to the bartender in the lounge. There was but one recourse, I had to find her before the police learned of her. I had to find Nova!
As I entered the lobby the clerk at the desk motioned to me. "Mr. Earle, I have a message that a lovely young woman dropped off for you," he said when I reached the desk. I took the sealed envelope from him and he added, "She said her name was Ms Caine and you would know who she was."

I eagerly tore upon the envelope noting that she had used the hotel stationary. I read and reread the few handwritten lines.
Mr. Earle,

Thank you again for signing my letter of reference. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you taking the time to do so. With a reference letter from a best-selling author, I feel I can now get a job with a publishing firm. It has long been a dream of mine.

Sincerely, N.
I suddenly felt numb all over. I sat down in a lobby chair and considered the irony. Ms Caine? N for Nova? I slumped back in the chair. Nova Caine? Had I been played, or what?

To be continued... HERE.