Tuesday, August 31, 2010

R&R - Race and Recreation

1962 Rolls Royce Silver Cloud II

We checked out the antique car museum while at the Boothbay Railway Village.

I was surprised to find this beauty in a museum near the salt air of the ocean and for it to be in such mint condition.

Pardon me ...
I guess someone at the museum had a sense of humor and had been watching too many Grey Poupon commercials.

In any event, I did get a chuckle out of it.

There was quite a large collection of antique automobiles and trucks in the place. There were several Ford Model T's and A's. The '37 Packard Rollston Phaeton was once nice machine.

In The Harbor

After feasting at the Lobster Dock, a cruise through the harbor was a nice treat.

Right Whales

Why limit the sightseeing to the harbor?

They were not the wrong whales. They were definitely the Right whales!


Sunday, August 29, 2010

Staycation - Make That Vacation

The usual installment of "Butterfly Dreams" will be delayed a few days.

I'm off for the week until Tuesday, Sept. 7.  It was meant to be a stay-cation,  with no particular traveling plans.  Since it is the first week I've actually taken off in five years, I was looking forward to 10 days of some lazy R&R.

...But then we had an offer we couldn't refuse! 

A friend gave us use of his time-share cottage in Boothbay Harbor in Maine.  We'll be here today, 8/29 until 9/2. He and his family will be staying here from the 3rd through the 6th of September for the upcoming Labor Day weekend. 

The picture is the view from the screen-enclosed back porch of the small cottage.  The cool salt air is refreshing and invigorating.

It took me awhile to find  Wi-Fi access so I could post this on the IBM laptop.  I'm not comfortable using a laptop, so I don't know how much posting I will try to do between now and next Friday. 

(On Word I will work on the story and plan to have the next installment up on Friday. )

After the 2 1/2 drive north, we found a cozy restaurant overlooking the harbor and enjoyed an excellent sea food dinner.  Tomorrow we'll hit the shops and do some sight-seeing.

I should have done this a long time ago!


Friday, August 27, 2010

A Child's Book Report: the Bible

( The following was shamelessly stolen from Mushy. )

A child was asked to write a book report on the entire Bible.

Through the eyes of a child…

The Children's Bible in a Nutshell

In the beginning, which occurred near the start, there was nothing but God, darkness, and some gas. The Bible says, 'The Lord thy God is one, but I think He must be a lot older than that. Anyway, God said, 'Give me a light!' and someone did.

Then God made the world.

He split the Adam and made Eve. Adam and Eve were naked, but they weren't embarrassed because mirrors hadn't been invented yet.

Adam and Eve disobeyed God by eating one bad apple, so they were driven from the Garden of Eden...Not sure what they were driven in though, because they didn't have cars.

Adam and Eve had a son, Cain, who hated his brother as long as he was Abel.

Pretty soon all of the early people died off, except for Methuselah, who lived to be like a million or something.

One of the next important people was Noah, who was a good guy, but one of his kids was kind of a Ham. Noah built a large boat and put his family and some animals on it. He asked some other people to join him, but they said they would have to take a rain check.

After Noah came Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Jacob was more famous than his brother, Esau, because Esau sold Jacob his birthmark in exchange for some pot roast. Jacob had a son named Joseph who wore a really loud sports coat.

Another important Bible guy is Moses, whose real name was Charlton Heston. Moses led the Israel Lights out of Egypt and away from the evil Pharaoh after God sent ten plagues on Pharaoh's people. These plagues included frogs, mice, lice, bowels, and no cable.

God fed the Israel Lights every day with manicotti. Then he gave them His Top Ten Commandments. These include: don't lie, cheat, smoke, dance, or covet your neighbor's stuff.

Oh, yeah, I just thought of one more: Humor thy father and thy mother.

Bible guy to use spies, Joshua fought the battle of Geritol and the fence fell over on the town.

After Joshua came David. He got to be king by killing a giant with a slingshot. He had a son named Solomon who had about 300 wives and 500 porcupines. My teacher says he was wise, but that doesn't sound very wise to me.

After Solomon there were a bunch of major league prophets. One of these was Jonah, who was swallowed by a big whale and then barfed up on the shore.

There were also some minor league prophets, but I guess we don't have to worry about them.

After the Old Testament came the New Testament. Jesus is the star of The New.

He was born in Bethlehem in a barn. (I wish I had been born in a barn too, because my mom is always saying to me, 'Close the door! Were you born in a barn?' It would be nice to say, 'As a matter of fact, I was.')

During His life, Jesus had many arguments with sinners like the Pharisees and the Democrats.

Jesus also had twelve opossums.

The worst one was Judas Asparagus. Judas was so evil that they named a terrible vegetable after him.

Jesus was a great man. He healed many leopards and even preached to some Germans on the Mount.

But the Democrats and Republicans put Jesus on trial before Pontius the Pilot. Pilot didn't stick up for Jesus. He just washed his hands instead.

Anyways, Jesus died for our sins, and then came back to life again. He went up to Heaven but will be back at the end of the Aluminum. His return is foretold in the book of Revolution.


Wednesday, August 25, 2010

From the Halls of Montezuma

The moral of the story:    Don't mess with a Marine!
-Thanks, Cathy

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

The E-mail Must Go Through

Just Released Photo:  Prototype of Coffin Proposed For Dolly Parton.
-Thanks Don

Creeping around to the bedroom window, two private detectives finally caught their client's wife in bed with another man.

"Just as I suspected," said the first. "Let's go after him."

"Great idea," the other replied with lust in his eyes. "How soon do think he'll be finished?"


A woman walked into a convenience store and asked the clerk if they sold extra-large condoms.

He replied, "Yes, we do. Would you like to buy some?"

"No," she said, "but do you mind if I wait here until someone does?"


A bloke was sitting on a bus when a gorgeous woman next to him starts breastfeeding her baby. The baby won’t take it so she says, “Come on, eat it all up or I’ll give it to this nice man here.”

Ten minutes later, the baby is still not feeding so she says again, “Eat it all up or I’ll give it to this nice man here.”

The bloke says, “Listen, love, can you make your bloody mind up, I should’ve got off four stops ago!”

-Thanks Phil



Between 18 and 22, a woman is like Africa. Half discovered, half wild, fertile and naturally Beautiful!

Between 23 and 30, a woman is like Europe. Well developed and open to trade, especially for someone of real value.

Between 31 and 35, a woman is like Spain, very hot, relaxed and convinced of her own beauty.

Between 36 and 40, a woman is like Greece, gently aging but still a warm and desirable place to visit.

Between 41 and 50, a woman is like Great Britain, with a glorious and all conquering past.

Between 51 and 60, a woman is like Israel, has been through war, doesn't make the same mistakes twice, takes care of business.

Between 61 and 70, a woman is like Canada, self-preserving, but open to meeting new people.

After 70, she becomes Tibet .. Wildly beautiful, with a mysterious past and the wisdom of the ages. An adventurous spirit and a thirst for spiritual knowledge.


Between 1 and 80, a man is like Iran, ruled by nuts.

-Thanks Cathy



Australian Medical Association researchers have found that patients needing blood transfusions may benefit from receiving chicken blood rather than human blood.

It tends to make the men cocky and the women lay better....

Just thought you'd like to know.

-Thanks Cathy




-Thanks Don

A mother is driving her little girl to her friend's house for a play date.

"Mommy," the little girl asks, "how old are you?"

"Honey, you are not supposed to ask a lady her age," the mother replied. "It's not polite."

"OK", the little girl says, "How much do you weigh?"

"Now really," the mother says, "those are personal questions and are really none of your business."

Undaunted, the little girl asks, "Why did you and Daddy get a divorce?"

"That's enough questions, young lady! Honestly!"

The exasperated mother walks away as the two friends begin to play.

"My Mom won't tell me anything about her," the little girl says to her friend.

"Well," says the friend, "all you need to do is look at her driver's license. It's like a report card, it has everything on it."

Later that night the little girl says to her mother, "I know how old you are. You are 32."

The mother is surprised and asks, "How did you find that out?"

"I also know that you weigh 130 pounds."

The mother is past surprised and shocked now. "How in Heaven's name did you find that out?"

"And," the little girl says triumphantly, "I know why you and daddy got a divorce."

"Oh really?" the mother asks. "Why?"

"Because you got an F in sex."

-Thanks again, Cathy


Monday, August 23, 2010

Butterfly Dreams (30)

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

They had died when helping thwart a plan to undermine the government of the United States. Now Ben and Susan have returned from the dead and they must bring that government down. Standing in their way are Michael Black and Michelle Gray, the bodies of whom they now occupy.
-(The Story begins HERE)-
Sleeping With the Dead

I could just make out the subtle swirling pattern of a craftsman's trowel upon the ceiling. I could sense some movement in the patterns, each one sliding beneath adjacent swirls.

Up there was something else moving, no, several somethings. The spiraling downward arc of them was bringing them toward me. The objects were blue and seemed to be fluttering as if on wings. Butterflies, dozens of them, were swarming above me.

He could feel the tickle of the fragile creatures as they alighted upon his bare skin. He began to giggle in spite of himself as their tiny legs carried the winged insects across his skin. Nearby, he could hear the gleeful laughter of another. To his left lie a naked prepubescent boy, he too covered in the little blue butterflies.

Across the lawn an attractive woman in a skimpy white bikini busied herself emptying the inflated kids' pool onto the lawn. Standing near her were two young girls. They were giggling and pointing at the two lads. She picked up two matching pieces of garments and shook her head. She turned and shouted, "Boys, how many times have I told you to keep your bathing suits on?"

At once, disturbed by the sound of her voice, and as if of a single mind, the butterflies took flight. He gasped as he watched the contrast of their blue forms against the low-flying clouds, their westerly edges tinted in a soft reddish glow of the setting sun. Then, they vanished into the pre-dusk sky.

She clapped her hands and barked, "Into the house now! It's time to clean up before supper."

The other boy had a head start for the house and he raced to catch up to him. He nearly caught him as he reached the sliding door. Behind the glass barrier the winner of the race stuck out his tongue and then darted from view. As he slid the door open he caught sight of his reflection. The face looking back at him was identical to the one who had passed through the entry before him.

I opened my eyes and squinted. There were no butterflies. The patterns on the ceiling were not in motion. Remembering that I was not alone, I twisted my head to the right. Her back was to me but I could hear Susan's steady respiration. I breathed a sigh of relief that she was still covered by the sheet.

Sitting up, I swung my legs off the bed and rested my elbows on my them. A quick glance at my watch revealed that it was two in the morning. That I had managed to grab a few hours of much needed sleep was appreciated, but I was troubled by the perplexing reverie still fresh in my mind.

It couldn't have been a dream I thought to myself. Had someone tapped into my mind while I was sleeping? Had the images of the young boys been channeled into me while I was asleep? If so, for what purpose? Was there any significance to the dream?

... And then there were the butterflies, those damned butterflies! Like Michelle's recurring dream, mine too featured the presence of swarming blue butterflies against the backdrop of a reddish sky. The similarity of the dreams, however, ended there.

In her dream as she explained it, she was naked and alone on a street. From the signage on a motel she was able to place her dream self somewhere in the southwest on the famed Route 66. Conversely, I was not central to my dream, but rather was viewing the back yard scene from another vantage point.

I lie back down and focused my eyes once again at the ceiling. There was something gnawing at me. There was something in the dream that filled me with chilling dread. Yet, I tried to will the patterns to move once again. I closed my eyes.

He reached the bathroom in time to see the other boy climbing into the bathtub. To his right he could hear the water running in the shower stall. There on the hamper lie the two pieces of her bathing suit. Although steam from the hot water had fogged the glass door he could just about make out some of the more interesting details of her naked body.

When he saw her hand reaching to shut off the water he hurried to the tub and climbed in with the other boy. With anticipation the two of them watched as the shower door swung open. Even though it was a nightly routine, they'd never lost their fascination of seeing her naked.

After wrapping a towel about her long black hair, she grabbed a bar of soap and a large sponge and walked toward them. Obviously unashamed of her nudity, she knelt by the tub and began to lather the sponge. Leaning forward she began to run the sponge over the other boy's body. He watched her breast squished against the rim of the tub waiting for her to lean farther. On cue it slid from the rim and dangled in air, its large tip only inches from the water.

The water draining in the tub, she dried the two of them in turn with a large towel. She turned the faucets on to refill the bathtub and stood up. Placing her foot on the toilet seat she ran the towel over her leg.

"Boys, go get dressed for supper," she whispered. She looked up and raised her voice, "Girls, it's your turn. Come on now."

Because it was at eye level he stood still, his eyes transfixed on an area high up on her inner thigh. There was something on her leg below and to the right of the jet-black curls of hair.

He pointed and exclaimed, "One of the little blue butterflies landed on your leg!"

She patted him on the backside and laughed, "No. That one lives there. Now, off you go."

The two girls, as naked as the boys entered through the bathroom door at the same time they were leaving. They stopped, covered their giggling mouths and pointed at the funny little things hanging between their legs.

I struggled to open my eyes. My body was damp from heavy perspiration. I was in a state of arousal. I felt something hot against my neck. My hand was running across bare skin. Turning my head, lips touched against mine. They parted to accept the tip of a probing tongue.

( To be continued ...

Where It All Began )

№ 2027

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

best cellar novels

A tip of the hat to Cathy for sending me these.


Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Mail Box

It looks like it's about time to clean out the e-mail box again. I'll share some of them with you. Lucky you!

Did you ever wonder why earrings became so popular with men?

A man is at work one day when he notices that his co-worker is wearing an earring.

The man knows his co-worker to be a normally conservative fellow, and is curious about his sudden change in "fashion sense"

The man walks up to him and says, "I didn't know you were into earrings."

"Don't make such a big deal, it's only an earring," he replies sheepishly.

His friend falls silent for a few minutes, but then his curiosity prods him to ask, "So, how long have you been wearing one?"

"Ever since my wife found it in my truck."

(I always wondered how this trend got started)

A truck driver sees a girl about to jump off a bridge so he stops.

"What are you doing?" he says.
"I'm trying to commit suicide," she says.
"Well, before you jump give me some oral sex."

So, she does.
After she's finished, the trucker says, "Wow! That's a wasted talent. Why are you committing a suicide?"
 "My parents don't like me dressing up like a girl.”

A new Priest at his first mass was so nervous he could hardly speak. After mass he asked the Monsignor how he had done.

The Monsignor replied, "When I am worried about getting nervous on the pulpit, I put a glass of vodka next to the water glass. If I start to get nervous, I take a sip."

So next Sunday he took the Monsignor's advice. At the beginning of the sermon, he got nervous and took a drink. He proceeded to talk up a storm.

Upon his return to his office after the mass, he found the following note on the door:

1) Sip the vodka, don't gulp.
2) There are 10 commandments, not 12.
3) There are 12 disciples, not 10.
4) Jesus was consecrated, not constipated.
5) Jacob wagered his donkey, he did not bet his ass.
6) We do not refer to Jesus Christ as the late J.C..
7) The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost are not referred to as Daddy, Junior and the Spook.
8) David slew Goliath; he did not kick the shit out of him..
9) When David was hit by a rock and was knocked off his donkey, don't say he was stoned off his ass.
10) We do not refer to the cross as the 'Big T.'
11) When Jesus broke the bread at the last supper he said, "Take this and eat it for this is my body." He did not say,"Eat me."
12) The Virgin Mary is not called 'Mary with the Cherry'.
13) The recommended grace before a meal is not: Rub-A-Dub-Dub thanks for the grub, Yeah God.
14) Next Sunday there will be a taffy pulling contest at St. Peter's not a peter pulling contest at St. Taffy's.

While suturing a cut on the hand of a 75 year old rancher, who's hand was caught in the gate while working cattle, the doctor struck up a conversation with the old man. Eventually the topic got around to Obama being elected by a mass of media-led, brainless liberals to be our president.

The old rancher said, "Well, ya know, Obama is a 'Post Turtle'".

Not being familiar with the term, the doctor asked him what a 'post turtle' was.

The old rancher said, "When you're driving down a country road on you come across a fence post with a turtle balanced on top, that's a 'post turtle".

The old rancher saw the puzzled look on the doctor's face so he continued to explain. "You know he didn't get up there by himself, he doesn't belong up there, and he doesn't know what to do while he's up there, and you just wonder what kind of dumb ass put him up there to begin with".

Bubba was fixing a door and he found that he needed a new hinge, so he sent Mary Louise to the hardware store. At the hardware store Mary Louise saw a beautiful teapot on a top shelf while she was waiting for Joe Bob to finish waiting on a customer.

When Joe Bob was finished, Mary Louise asked, "How much is the teapot?"

Joe Bob replied "That's silver and it costs $100!"

"My goodness, that sure is a lotta money!" Mary Louise exclaimed.

She then proceeded to describe the hinge that Bubba had sent her to buy, and Jo Bob went to the backroom to find a hinge. From the backroom Joe Bob yelled "Mary Louise, you wanna screw for that hinge?"

To which Mary Louise replied, "No, but I will for the teapot."


Monday, August 16, 2010

Butterfly Dreams (29)

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

They had died when helping thwart a plan to undermine the government of the United States. Now Ben and Susan have returned from the dead and they must bring that government down. Standing in their way are Michael Black and Michelle Gray, the bodies of whom they now occupy.
-(The Story begins HERE)-
Abra Cadaver

In her self-imposed exile behind that locked door, I knew she would find no solace. She would not be able to channel any of her memories or to call upon her past experiences for guidance. She would find none, for they were gone.

As cruel as those who had resurrected her without memories had been, I understood the method to their madness. Replete with memories she would have been an unwilling puppet, an uncontrollable subject. Without memories, her mind was an open book with blank pages. Alas, the script was being written upon those pages by unseen hands.

I reasoned that imparting what I knew of her life, past and present, could only cause her more harm than good. This was no more evident than when she had found that folder only minutes before.

I was a certain that once she gained control of her emotions, she would be coming out of that room to face me. She would be full of questions. She would be wanting some answers. The answers to those questions, I feared, might be better left unanswered.

Yet, I could empathize with her. Both Michelle and I had gone through resurrections of our own. We too had awakened from death's sleep only to find find ourselves in bodies alien to us. We, however, had returned with our memories and identities intact.

I pounded my fist upon the arm of the sofa and growled, "What right have they to play God?"

I glanced at the bookcase against the far wall. Most of the books upon the shelves had been part of the collection that had belonged to our benefactor, the late Bishop King. Crossing the room I stood before a section of books which were housed behind closed glass doors. Rare and valuable, they were once King's prized possessions.

I scanned the spines searching for a particular tome. Finding the desired title, I removed it from the shelf and opened the book to the title page. I nodded in awe but was not surprised that Bishop King would have owned a copy of its first publication from the year, 1818.

With cautious fingers I turned the pages until I came to the author's introduction to the novel. Although it was fiction, I could feel the hairs on my neck bristling. Written almost two hundred years before, the eerie prescience of the passage was unnerving.

"I saw the pale student of unhallowed arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together. I saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the working of some powerful engine, show signs of life, and stir with an uneasy, half vital motion. Frightful must it be; for supremely frightful would be the effect of any human endeavour to mock the stupendous mechanism of the Creator of the world."

I closed the book and read in a soft whisper the title upon the leather-bound cover, "Frankenstein: or, The Modern Prometheus." Mary Shelley would have surely turned over in her grave had she known how prophetic her literary masterpiece had become. I returned the book to its place on the shelf and closed the door.

Modern technology had far surpassed the science of the author's days. There were no electrodes powered by lightning storms giving life to a lifeless body. It was not alchemy that had brought Susan and Ben back from the dead.

Likewise, it was not the practice of magic that had given Michelle and myself a new existence. No one had chanted a mystical incantation such as Abra Cadaver. I groaned as soon as the phrase formed in my mind. Still, the phrase formed again and escaped as a vocal utterance, "Abra Cadaver, rise ye the dead and live ye hereafter."

I heard her gasp before I realized that she was standing by the open door of the guest room. She had heard my ill-advised chant. Her face was ashen and she began to tremble. She took one step in my direction, staggered and then collapsed onto the floor.

I knelt beside her and touched her neck. Her skin was warm but clammy. She looked up at me and tried to speak. Touching her lips with a finger I shook my head and said, "Don't talk. Let me help you into bed. You need to rest."

She remained silent until I set her down upon the bed. Placing her hand on my arm she pleaded, "Lie next to me. Please, don't leave me alone."

I shook my head, "No. I don't think that would be a very good idea."

Tears were forming in her eyes and she began to sob, "It ... it's true, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" I responded. "What's true?"

"You ... you think I'm a monster!" she asserted.

"A monster? No. I don't think any such thing. Why would you think that?"

She ran the back of her hand across her cheeks and whimpered, "I saw you with that book. I heard you say its title!"

I swallowed hard and tried to find the right thing to say. "You're still upset about that folder you found. Your imagination got the better of you." Seeing that the tears were still flowing down her cheeks I offered a small but desperate white lie, "Look, I couldn't sleep. I was looking for something to read."

Whether she believed me or not, it was not apparent as she reached for a box of tissues on the end table next to the bed. Clutching the used tissue in her hand she forced a weak smile and muttered, "I don't want to be alone. Please lie next to me. Please?"

Giving in to her and against my better judgment I nodded, "Alright, but only until you fall asleep."

"Thank you," she whispered as I sat own on the other side of the bed and began removing my shoes.

When I turned around I was stunned by the sight of her. She was standing with her back to me, her derriere bathed in the glow of the table lamp as she slid her panties down the smooth contours of flesh. She was looking back over her shoulder, fully aware of her attentive audience.

Unable to turn away I watched as the final piece of garment slipped from her body. She pulled back the sheets and lie down but did not pull the material over her naked form. From her provocative posture it was obvious that she had no intentions of covering herself.

When I pulled the sheet over her and lie on top of it next to her she tendered a groan of disappointment. She lifted the edge of the sheet but let it fall back onto her when I belched a single order. "Go to sleep."

When I finally heard her steady breathing of sleep I relaxed my guard. I lie there for several minutes staring at the ceiling. I tried to fight the need to sleep. I tried ...

( To be continued ...

Sleeping With the Dead )