I’ll be washin’ my underwear to get ready to go to Austin. I only do that on special occasions, but like Fidel, I usually burn, and buy new. Zman has a post up with a link to a news story where the law in Austin is goin’ into bars lookin’ for drunks to arrest. Damn, talk ’bout shootin’ fish in a barrel… Where’s the sport in that? Hell, you can be in a Hotel bar, stayin’ in that hotel, and still get bitchslapped for the buzz you have goin’ on. That just ain’t right. Now, if you’re drunk, AND you’re bein’ an asshole, then hell, you’re gonna get whats comin’ to you one way or the other. That is sportin’. If I’m gettin’ shithammered in the hotel bar where I’m stayin’, payin’ twice/three times what beers costs for the ambiance, then why arrest me if I’m not bein’ an asshat. You’re just killin’ tourism. Go ahead, get that rep’ goin. Hell, I live in a town where “prohibition” started. Some ol’ ‘gal, can’t remember her name now, started that stuff, and man, my town’s been dry for quite a while now. Most of my life ‘matter of fact. That didn’t stop me. I knew where the city limits were.  But even up here in Buckeye Country, the law don’t shoot fish in a barrel like that. Bears might get the occasional speedey salmon on the freeway but that’ll happen if you’re led footed.  Hell, just read the news, you’re free to burn couches down on 13th and High, but your ass WILL go to jail for lightin’ it up… if you got caught on tape. Or caught by a police on a horse, in Ohio.  Who couldn’t see that one comin’?
I don’t plan on burnin’ any couches in Austin. I plan on sittin’ on a plenty of ‘em though. I don’t plan on bein’ an asshole in Austin. Somethin’ tells me the compeition would be too much for me, and I don’t want to be completely shamed, but I do plan on gettin’ lit. In a bar. In a hotel where I’m stayin’. I won’t have to drive. That’s the damned perfect set up. I’m gonna have to start practicin’ on my backerds abc’s, and my hokey pokey sobriety test dance… If I’d have known there was gonna be so much prep for this meet, I might have started practicin’ earlier. There’s gonna be alot of folks there though. It’s gonna be fun, If I can stay out of the pokey.  As long as they don’t pick somebody else at the bar and ask me if I “know” their name, I might pass.  “Ok, who’s that person at the end of the bar with the mullet?”  Awww, you mean Zman, Zonker, aka Mullet from the right side of the Mason Dixon…  If I don’t get that question, I’ll be … passable.  Try expalinin’ those expletives to an officer, or an officerette…  I can hear it now, “Hey Eric, ’splain this to lucy, will you?”
Should we just go ahead a pick a designated drunkard? Somebody that maybe doesn’t have a room on Friday night, to have one furnished by the city, and then free his/her hind end so they can be back for Saturday night. Then throw that person’s straw out of the stack and draw anew for Saturday nights sacrficial sauceer…? (frenchy word, form Apocolypse now) Then again, if we all wound up in the pokey on the same weekend, now, wouldn’t that just be memorable. Blown-Eyed inmates… I think the enforcement in Austin is just waitin’, warmin’ up, gettin’ good at arrestin’ intoxicated people in preparation for the big game in September. Gonna be lot’s of Scarlet and Grey in the Austin’ pokey come September time.  I hope somebody down there in Tejas is greasin’ some palms to avoid the above scenario, well, just the part about join’ to the pokey.
Hey, If it happens to me, I’ll write a jail review, or “preview” for my Buckeye bretheren, if you will.

My man Zonker got popped by the man. Apparently, they caught him before he could completely shave off the mullet…

Hell, it seems like everything nowadays will kill you if you don’t quit it. I went to the doctor a couple(3/4 weeks ago) ’cause gout was stompin’ on my foot to get a new prescription ’cause mine wasn’t refillable. I ranted a bit about that appointment in a “Sawbones” post, and now I see Dax has drunk the cool-aid. That’s cool. Good luck buddy. Me, I went back to the doctor the other day, he told me the BP was still “high”, and that some kind or another of somethin’ in my blood was high too. Shit, ain’t that the point. Words were exchanged, alcohol this and alcohol that, and does your wife get on you about it. What do you think Doc? You’re the smart fellow thats gonna live forever, why you askin’ such a stupid question, hell yeah she does. I’m an easy target. Actually she doesn’t get “on” me about it, she gets “gone” me about it.

I know my opinions on life differ from many, but damnit, it is mine, and I ought to be able to live it like I want as long as I ain’t doin’ harm to anybody. Is it “good” for me, my “lifestyle”? No. Duh. Will it kill me? Well yeah, eventually. Will I live forever if I “quit it all”? Nope. So, basically doc, you want me to comeback every month to be chastised, and “pay up sucker” for “life prolonging information”…

Man, I just can’t do it. Well, I probably could, but more precisely, I don’t want to do it, so I’m not goin’ to. Next conversation I have with the doc is gonna be ’bout what I just said. Unless he’s willin’ to give me a guarantee to live forever, then all this “side shit” can be ignored ‘far as I’m concerned. If it don’t hurt, I don’t need it treated. I won’t sue for “negligence”. Hell he warned me. So did momma. The last prescription he gave me for that gout lasted ’bout 5 years. I hope this one does too. I don’t need another momma/babysitter. I need my foot to stop hurtin’. And it has.

I get the “health kick deal”, I really do. I used to be fit for ’bout anything. Deal is, life deals you one discardable card, and that’s the death card. It’s gonna come up. You won’t know when, or where, but it’ll be there. You can stop doin’ things you like in life in order to pretend you can extend it, but in the end, when it’s time, it’s time. Period.

Anybody see any “trophies” for “Healthiest Dead Person” lately. Right. You see about as many of those as you do “UnHealthiest Dead Person” trophies. Same difference(< –stupid phrase no?). Dead is dead. Died healty, died unhealthy, what’s the difference? Hit by a bus, stomped by a bull, or just died ’cause he died…

I don’t need another wife, one at a time is a plenty. If I had another, I’d have married a doctor. One can write prescriptions, the other can’t. Maybe I ought to switch. Tryin’ to find that needle in a haystack is about like keepin’ a frog from jumpin’. The naggin’ would likely be similar. Both can write check’s my ass can’t cash though. Uptick would be only one person naggin’.

‘Neckson’s gonna get some(and he) advice some may deem odd, when he goes to get married, if he does. Don’t. Man, if you do, then marry a doctor. That way you’ll only have one nag that takes your money and tell’s you what (to do/not do), to deal with… Trust me son. You’ll live longer.

Some citislicker ’round here got to pokin’ fun at me about the gas can, bow saw, jumper cables, crecent wrench, and vise grips, and work boots in the bed of my truck. He was all like, “hey man, you too stupid to fill up that you’ve got to carry a gas can ’round in case you run outta gas?”

Naw, I fill up, ’cause the gas pump I use is behind the plant where I work and they deduct it straight from my check. Hell, ask my wife and daughter, “gas is free”…

Next came “Well, if you do run outta gas in that thing you better hope there’s a station close, ’cause you’ll need all the gas in that can to get to the station”.

I said… “Slick, if I run outta gas, I’m gonna get out, cut a limb off a tree, throw some gas on it, start a fire, sit down, get warm, then make a call. One of my other neck buddies will come with the gas can that can get this thing to the back of the plant where gas is free”… This is Ohio in the spring, and even I ain’t dumb ‘nough to freeze to death.

Dumb ass Citislickers…

has been bery bery goot to meh. Well, not really, but it is gettin’ to be that time of year again. ‘Neckson came home from his buddie’s house ’bout 8:20 tonight. Turns out the freshman had a scrimmage with the sophomore’s today. Of course the first thing outta his pie hole is “Hey dad, I bounced one off the wall”. After several other seemingly pointless questions from me to him, it turns out, he was the only one all day to “hit the fence”. Two doubles acommpanied that effort. You’d think sophomore right fielders would learn.

Fielding questions resulted in, “turned a double play”. Screw up questions resulted in, “got one caught in my sweats and couldn’t dig it out”. Understandable I guess. He wears baggie stuff, and it’s ’bout a 39 degree high here today. More questions led to a strong desire on his part for an exit to just get on with his evenin’. Which he did. There was to be a scrimmage tomorrow night against another “freshman team”. It has been canceled. It’s supposed to snow later tonight on the first day of spring. Imagine that. Snow, in Ohio, in Spring. Wacko weather her folks. I swear. Truly wacko. 70 degress one day, 25 the next mornin’. It is the way it is.

I was lookin’ forward to the scrimmage tomorrow. There’s about, oh 5 fella’s on the freshman team that I helped coach last year that are on this team. I want to see ‘em play. There’s some additions of kids that our team played against last year, and they’re pretty good. This ought to be a danged decent team if they don’t start “promotin’ people”. If they keep that group of freshman together as long as they can, they’re gonna acheive on all levels until they graduate, and some will go on to acheive further on the ball field.

Grades are ‘Neckson’s vice. He’s realized a little too late, but not TOO late that people at this level don’t give a flyin’ F at a rollin’ doughnut if you can ball, they wanna make sure you can score on tests first… Hey, I’ve been preachin’ it, and doin’ what I could to reinforce that train of thought, but once you’ve got the horse to the water, you still can’t make it drink.

I’m excited about this group. I am. If they keep ‘em together, and they still have sports in my school system that don’t caught you half a mil’ to particpate in, this group could do some special things. School levy’s in this area in the recent past have pretty much gone the way of taxation without representation. If they keep goin’ that way, I’m gonna have to think fast, meet with the others, and see what the “non millionaire” parents are plannin’ for their children’s extracuricular activities sportswise. If I have to get him in Legion ball, and things like that, well I will, but I just think it sucks High school athletics have become “hostage” in my district so it’s with mixed feelings that I’ll vote FOR the next levy. Part of me wants it to pass, the other part of me is tired of having sports held hostage and used as a human shield for lack of cash, continuation of “magnet schools”, and extra weight on my back. If the voters finally kill athletics after shool, fine, now screw you all. I’ll not vote for another levy ever.

I drive right by the high school every day on my way to work, so if they bring up transportation to and from. Byte me. I care not. Have rig, can drive. Both ways. I’m really sick of that whole situation. We got a highschool that could rival some of the shoppin’ mall’s you all shop at. I ain’t shitin’ you. But we can’t afford “athletics” at 3 highschools and 5 middle schools? You know the word please… I’m tired of fundraisers for this and that. I do it, barely, because it’s a pain in the ass, and I should’ve been pretty much done with the “heavy lifting” fundraisers when travel ball was over with. They aren’t subsidized.

Aww, hell. I’m just glad it’s baseball season again, and glad I’ll get to watch some games, and I wish Japan all the luck in the world tonight as they take on the Cuban’s. Democracy needs to win tonight, and since our team was lame, I’m wishin’ the Japanese all the luck in the world. I’d like to read about Fidel bein’ pissed over the loss, and I hope the 7th inning stretch turns into a mass defection of the cuban team so they can all come over here and make some jack… Just my opinion…