The Cat is Trippin

So I took the cat to the vet yesterday and got her spade. They sent her home with all the usual precautionary instructions, plus four syringes preloaded with some sort of oral pain killer. I don't know whats in those fuckers, but I wish it came in six packs. She got her 1st dose (something like .4 ml) this morning when I got up around 7 Am or so. When I left around 8:30, she was laying on the kitchen floor, belly up and eyes closed, her paws contently kneeding up into the air. When she does open her eyes, her pupils are dialated to the size of saucers. Damn, looks like fun. Wonder what one of those syringes squirted into a gin and tonic would do for the owner?

First eBay Auction

I looked at my bank balance today and realized that I was one poor mofo that had spent way too damn much $$. With that in mind, I asked myself the eternal question, "What Would Killer Do?" After ruling out turning tricks for $10 on the corner, I decided I would sell some of my photography on eBay. Hell yeah!

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=7335369056&rd=1&sspagename=STRK%3AMESE%3AIT&rd=1

Like I said, its my first auction, so be gentle with me. Take a look and tell me what you think.

New Cat

Sometime last week, I noticed a new kitten hanging out in my back alley. The little thing seemed starved for attention, but she had a flea collar on her so I figured someone was taking care of her. She was still out there Friday night though, so I decided to go ahead and bring her in the house. She practically devoured a bowl of food, and literally gulped down a bunch of water as well.
I took her to the vet Saturday morning and got all her shots and vaccinations taken care of. She also got some flea medication which seems to be working very well. I went to PetSmart and bought her some toys and stuff yesterday, plus a new red collar to replace that useless flea collar.

She's sacked out on the back of the futon as I type. She isnt destructive, couldn't care less about the fish tank, and seems quite content to be off of the mean streets of Baltimore. She's not much of a snuggler, but she loves to be pet. I can't for the life of me figure out why anyone would abandon such a sweet cat.

here's some pics I took last night:

Fear and Loathing in Canton on a Thursday Night

Yesterday, I thought about all my problems and realized that most of them could be overcome by hard work, perseverance, and a rededication to the effort... or I could just go out drinking. With that in mind I went down to Nacho Mamas and took my usual place at the corner of worthless information and useless opinions. Mr. Jim was just leaving as I showed up, so I grabbed his stool at the end of the bar and made myself at home.

I was somewhere towards the bottom of my first beer when Mark and Janet acquired a hubcap margarita. "Come on, let's drink it real fast!" they say as they hand me two straws. Oh, the peer pressure! The high pressure sales tactics! I swear, Janet twisted my arm behind my back while Mark forced the straws into my mouth! I simply had no choice but to drink until my brain froze. between the three of us, that margarita was history in three minutes. Ten minutes later, as our brains began to slosh around in a vat of tequila, Janet and I both agreed that perhaps that wasn't the best of ideas. We enjoyed our new found warm sense of well being anyway.

And so the night went. I ended up hanging out there with a rotating cast of usual suspects until closing time. Janet and her friend went off in quest of an espresso martini or something like that, Sarah hung out for a while after her shift and had a couple of coronas with me at the end of the bar, and Pat Ruth (the great nephew of the babe himself) came in all liquored up and hung out for a while too. Jen the bartender was feeling like shit, so I hung out and provided moral support as much as I could. I dont like it when my bartenders are feeling right poorly, so I did what I could for her, which wasn't much. She made it through to the end of the shift though, and only went outside to toss her cookies three times. Her dedication to the cause of alcohol abuse is admirable.

I decided to walk home and leave the car in Canton after closing Mamas down. Canton was swarming with cops, and in spite of all the water I'd drank over the last hour and a half, I was still all sorts of liquored up. I got home, took a handful of aspirin and multi-vitamins, and crashed out on the futon.

All in all, I had a mighty fun time! As a plus, I have one of those hangovers that leaves you kind of tranquil, and serene. Sort of like the calm after the storm. Problems? What problems? Its all good! But should any arise today, not to worry. Mamas opens for business at 11 AM daily.

Boiled Alive

A writer by the name of Claire Wolfe wrote a book a while back called, Don't Shoot the Bastards... Yet. She saw the writing on the wall though, and knew that unless something drastic changed, the time for shooting would come. In my opinion, this Real ID bill is a big step towards that ugly day.

We are the frog thats being slowly boiled alive. They will never "come for our guns", but they will take them chunk by chunk, piece by piece. The days of the 50 cal already look to be numbered. Sure it doesn't affect me, but it will when they come after 30 cals, or 20 cals with a muzzle velocity over 1700 fps, or have a range of over 100 yards. One by one they will all be labeled "sniper rifles", "assault rifles", or some evil moniker to be determined. A bill with a catchy title will be introduced, a little known amendment added on, and another class of firearms will be outlawed. One more tooth in the Bill of Rights will be removed.

Dont own guns? Dont think this affects you? Guess again. How do you feel about having to run your National ID card everytime you visit Planned Parenthood? Do you think the federales need to know what kind of birth control you use? If you don't care if the Federales know, how about the 7-11? The private sector is going to capture your information every time you swipe that little card, which will no doubt be required as part of your credit card authorization. What will they do with this information? Why sell it of course.

Consider also that with an RFID chip in your wallet or purse, it will be quite easy to keep tabs on your whereabouts. Know those anti-shoplifting sensors you pass through everytime you go to a store in the mall or enter and exit a WalMart? Those sensors monitor RFID chips just like the ones in your new ID. Why only track deodorant and CDs when you can track the people buying them too?

Of course, a lot of this information is already available. You leave a paper trail and a log file of your whereabouts every time you use your ATM or credit card. As it is now though, you have to comb through several databases to get that info. Thanks to Real ID though, it will all be kept in one convenient database for law enforcement, the IRS, and God knows who else to look at. Won't it be wonderful when johnny law can tell how many margaritas you had at the bar that night just by running your license plate?

Maybe I am paranoid. Maybe none of this will come to fruition, and we will look back on this and laugh. Then again, in ten years we may be too busy reloading to laugh.

Its not time to shoot the bastards yet, but I'd think about cleaning and oiling your weapon.

American Idull

Last night, I realized for the 1st time that the Simon guy from American Idol is not of this world. He is a demon from hell, sent here to harvest souls. At the very least, he was a mortal man who signed his soul over the devil in exchange for his strange powers of mass hypnosis. What else can explain the appeal of that abomination? Think Im exaggerating? Take this into consideration.

I get a call last night from a friend of mine who's all upset. My friend, who we will refer to as "Alice", had forgotten to pay her cable bill and had her service turned off. As a result, she had no way to watch her favorite TV show, American Idol. I tried to explain to her a couple of times that Idol was on FOX, a broadcast TV network, and that all she needed was an antenna, available from any WalMart or Radio Shack. This concept seemed lost on her though, and she didn't have access to a vehicle at that moment anyway. Whatever was she going to do? Bowman to the rescue! I ended up putting my phone in front of my TV, turning on American Idol, and letting her listen to it in Florida while I went back downstairs and listened to the ball game. When I picked up the receiver at 9, she was still there and amazingly grateful. Without me and my quick thinking, she would have missed out on this huge event.

Its so evil its creepy.

Fucked Up Weekends

Good times aren't so good when someone doesn't make it home alive.

Its something that everyone knows I suppose, but no one ever thinks about it until it happens. This weekend, the unthinkable happened.

Larry Dean was a damn fine man. Although I only had the pleasure of knowing him for a brief period of time, he struck me as a guy who had a real knack for living. That love for life showed through in everything he did. His friendly, outgoing nature made him a person you simply enjoyed being around. He was like a fire on a cold night. You could just feel the warmth radiating from him.

That fire went out early Saturday morning when Larry was killed in a car accident. He was killed in a one car accident outside of Frederick Maryland, just hours after we all sang along to Hank Sr.'s I'll Never Get Out of This World Alive. It's such a strange, surreal feeling to know that he will never be out with us again. We'll never see him show his 'Ask Me About My Cock' belt buckle, or show us his latest ink.

We will grieve his loss, and we will carry on with our lives. In time we will still go to shows and enjoy ourselves, just like we always have and just like Larry would have wanted. But we will do so without a good friend. We will also do so with the knowledge that life is a fragile and precious thing, something I don't think any of us will ever take for granted ever again. He will be sorely missed.

The Full Moon Saloon will never seem the same.