The mostly True Story of Johnson Avery

One guy, every time I tell him something says, "Furry eel?" Perhaps he means "fer real" or the more correct, "freel". Not sure. I just know eels are ocean creatures and are decidedly un-furry.

I never see a Holden automobile in the US. They are Australian cars and I remember they were pretty cool. We got Yugo's here and they were not cool. I wonder the reason.

Look, all I'm saying is if you ain't some Yankee jerk transplant...quit acting like one. Know what I mean??

The only time I ever rode a helicopter ended with me being told to get out while it was still hovering. I had been out to the USS Ranger (AKA USS Danger for her propensity to kill crewmembers and catch fire) and the seas were too rough to small boat back. I was excited to get to ride the helo home. The ride was bumpy and loud, but I didn't care. Then we got to my ship, a destroyer, and it looked so small, but so tough, from above. I was still taking in the sleek lines, the bristling weaponry, and the overall "warship-ness" of her when a dude walked over, snapped a line to a d-ring on my life jackets front, and said, "Step out". Seems I forgot that we were too small to have a flight deck. Twas a tad frightening.

The word: Gerbiliscious. You figure out how to use it.

Pt. I
Johnson Avery was a truck driver for The West Georgia Asphalt Company. Which is funny if you think about it. I mean, who differintiates between West Georgia and East Georgia? Maybe between coastal Georgia and the rest, but Western Georgia ? Nah. Georgia is just pretty much Georgia. But irregardless, which, I am told is not a word, but I use it and you know what I mean so I think that fits all the requirements for being a word, Johnson Avery was a truck driver.
Pt. II
Now the curious thing about The West Georgia Asphalt Company is that they spell "asphalt" "assfault" as if the buttocks were somehow to blame for things. And everybody told ol' BoDean that it wasn't correct but he didn't seem to care. He liked it that way. BoDean was intellectual in much the same way that a hound dog is a shellfish.
Epilog
Johnson Avery retired from The West Georgia Assfault Company and now collects his meager pension on the seventeenth of every month. He chose the seventeenth because, unlike the twenty ninth, thirtieth, or thirty first, every month has at least one seventeenth. Keep her between the ditches, Avery. Out.

I like W. E. Abernathy well enough as a name. But how cool would the name N.E. Ware be? Yeah, I know.

I looked up the story of the Cadillac coat of arms, but it turned out to be rather boring in a French sort of way. Sorry. Stupid, frequently. But boring...NEVER.

Another way the bank can make money without raising fees is to put customers' kids in safety deposit boxes and make them pay to get them back. Now you would have to stash a favorite child or they may not come back. But still, it seems a sound theory overall. But I think we need to implement the policy with care as there seems to be a fine line here between revenue generation which is necessary, and kidnapping which is more or less a felony.

I think our wives are called our better half because we spend the better half of our life waiting for them. Word.

A list of places I've driven:
1. USA
2. Mexico
3. Australia
4.Japan
4. Thailand
5. Grand Cayman
6.Guam
7.Philippines
8. Korea
9. Hawaii. Not technically a foreign country, but go ahead... you read the street signs. hey, Hawaii, Buy a freakin' consonant for crying out loud. What the heck is Mōiliili, Waialae, or Kalihi Uka anyway?

Bob worked at a golf course. On the weekends he played there. One of his partners owned a Humidor in Gulfport and would bring him some really nice cigars. Bob would bring them home and bring them across the street to me. The first time I was like, "Wow, thanks. This looks really expensive. I can't wait to smoke it." Then I realized that it had a cap on the end, making it impossible to draw. I was confused. "Hey... Bob. How do I smoke this? It's got no hole in the end." "Oh yeah," Bob said, "You'll need one of these" and he hands me a golf tee. "Just dig this on down in the end and you can smoke it." So, for a year I smoked $20 cigars with a golf tee hole gouged into them. Eventually I learned of the existence of cutters and punches.

I like substituting "retarded" for "retired". I know I am not alone, but like "pull my finger" it just never gets old. I crack up hearing "I am retarded navy. I was retarded after 26 years. Actually, I'm kind of enjoying my retardment" even if I'm just hearing it from myself.

Lastly, I guess when it comes to the Iraq war I am Pro-we gave it a shot and Anti-we ain't getting it done. I'm not a peacenik or (if you remember the 60s) a pinko fag, but I am realistic and don't allow pundits and sloganeers to make up my mind for me. I voted for Bush and I supported the war. But now I wonder if and how we will ever be able to disengage. That question prompted this weeks wordage:

Tin Can Bomb 28 Aug 2006

Marched in, gonna save the blameless
Dug in, we're gonna save them all
This evening I sip my coffee
This evening more soldiers fall

So what do we do now?
How can we walk away?
How can we pack up and go?
But how do we keep doing
What ain't been getting it done?
And killing our boys in the road

I don't figure they're fighting for freedom
I don't figure they're fighting for oil
I don't figure they know exactly
What brought them into this war

Don't say that they're wrong for going
They're patriots fair and square
But I reckon there's blood been spilled
On the hands that sent them there

So what do we do now?
No exiting gracefully
So how do we get them back home?
How do we stay there
When bombs are blowing up daily?
And killing our boys in the road

I wanted to see Sadaam fall
I wanted to take Iraq
I read it all in the papers
Attack or be attacked

But where has this gotten us?
And where is it leading to?
How do you wash your hands clean?
'Cause I need to wash mine too

So what do we do now?
When do we call it a day?
Swallow our pride and let go?
How do we tell a mother
Her son died a hero's death
From a tin can bomb beside the road !?

Marched in, gonna save the blameless
Dug in, we're gonna save them all
This evening I sip my coffee
This evening more soldiers fall

Ed
Brandon Blvd

The fonts of the chorus starting small and getting larger are meant to convey discussion of the war rightly becoming louder and more public. (Although, even though it is formatted as stated in my template view, the blog view does not seem to reflect it. Blogger is giving me fits this morning, so I don't know...)

Tin soldiers and Nixon's coming, out
Ramblin' Ed

Mama said knock you out. Unhhh! my mama said knock you out...

Mama snakes might out to teach the youngins to chew their food. Here be a half swallowed lizard and a choked to death snake. Ah...the suburban wilderness.






Hop Two Three (Fore)








New post in draft form. Needs to be prettified prior to uploading it.
Ramblin' Ed

Borrowed a Blue Something

Autumn breezes toss

Magnolia fragrances

through my bedroom window.

What right do they
have to enter
when you are not here.

(Don't know who wrote that, but I like it)

This will be the writing blog. Something old (fashioned), something new, something borrowed, and something blue (font). OK, got the "borrowed" out of the way. Let's get on with it.

I can't put my finger on it
But there's something not the same
Maybe in the way you kissed me
Or the way you spoke my name
Maybe how you stopped believing
When I said that I didn't mean
To be on the floor with Rachel
Left hand down her jeans

It ain't easy being something
Mama ain't raised me to be
But Mama never warned me
Just how tempting life can be
And I want to be your good man
Like I promised at the church
Though I do recall the preacher said
"For better... gettin' worse"

*-Chorus-*
Might not be all that good
But I ain't misunderstood
Who I am
That's who I'm going to be
Don't look for trouble, no
It finds me on it's own
If you can't stand the kitchen
Stay out of the heat

Spent some time in West Virginia
Down around White Sulphur Springs
Pretty easy to get a tumble
But those girls all want a ring
Them wanting to be somewhere else
Kept me looking good enough
Might have said some things that I didn't mean
Stretched the truth a little bit about love

*-Chorus-*
Might not be all that good
But I ain't misunderstood
Who I am
That's who I'm going to be
Don't look for trouble, no
It finds me on it's own
If you can't stand the kitchen
Stay out of the heat

I'm sorry about my nature
I've got no excuse at all
Yes, I'd love you overlooked it
And that whole Rachel thing gone wrong
If you'd turn back on your love light
I could turn back on my charm
We could spend the night turning each other on
Now that couldn't cause no harm

*-Chorus-*
Might not be all that good
But I ain't misunderstood
Who I am
That's who I'm going to be
Don't look for trouble, no
It finds me on it's own
If you can't stand the kitchen
Stay out of the heat

2 hot, slow nights on Brandon Blvd ending the 21st of August, 2006
It is, apparently, untitled

"Something new" has now been dispatched. Now, Old (fashioned) and blue (fonted) will appear together on your screen. Do not make any adjustments to your monitor, I will handle it all from this end.

Broken snails and whirlwind tails
Old magnets on the fridge
Sleeping bags with tattered tags
And foxgloves on the ridge

Idaho and Kosovo
With two points in between
Sandman sneaks about your sleep
And peppers all your dreams

I didn't know I never knew
And so I didn't care
But bumble flew a bee or two
The honeysuckle air

Fee and Fi met Foe and Fum
With Tweedle Dee for dinner
Whilst Jerry Falwell paced outside
Proclaiming them all sinners

You never see the reason
For the shifting sands of time
But magic colors everything
That slips outside the lines

If green were hair and red were air
And shrubs could dance the tango
Then Dr. Suess would be my muse
And my rhyme for this, 'zerdango'

This was that which was before
A flicker still subconscious
That fell to page just thisaway
Arranged in rhyming nonsense

Ed
Just now, 2006

Billy, don't be a hero, don't be a fool with your life
Billy, don't be a hero, come back and make me your wife (Huh??), OUT
Ramblin' Ed

Are They At Least Ill Tempered Sea Bass??

I saw one of those infernal "Proud Parent" bumper stickers that I am not so sure was completely thought out. Seems this person was the proud parent of a "Super Gobbler" at Turkey Creek Elementary.

Speaking of things that are not completely thought out...I hope... was the United Van Lines truck that had big, bold letters proclaining "S & M Moving". Seriously. I took a mental picture, have a look.

When Tom Jones' It's Not Unusual gets stuck in your head, you are basically screwed.

What Do These Things have in Common? (Answers at bottom)

A) Cell Phone, Alligator Clip, Duct Tape (Easy)

B) Gin, Fig Newton, Strawberry Seeds (Moderate)

C) Desk Calendar, Decorative Mirror, Fireplace Log (Difficult)

When people come through the door, they will frequently ask, "How ya doin'?" I mess with them. What they think I say is, "Hi." But what I'm really saying is, "High."

Like the dog that I am, my aliegence can be bought with food.

Poll your congressman and find out where they stood on the flag burning amendment. Then ask them if it might be OK to smear bug guts across a flag, which is pretty much what you're doing with one of them patriotic US flag motif bug screens you buy for your 4X4 F-250 Super Duty King Cab. If they say bug guts is OK, ask them why. If they say guts are not, ask where the Constitutional Amendment banning bug screens stands right now. If they trivialize the question, ask them what good they are then?

Bang! Bang! On the door, Baby..... B-52s in Love Shack

I'm changing my name to P. Dribble. The older I get, the more that it's like.

How can you say you like someting better than something that you have never tried? You can like being married to your wife, but how can you say that you like it better than being married to another woman if you've never been married to the other woman? You can imagine you'd like it better. You can like the idea of it better. But I don't think you can say you like it better because it isn't a fair comparison. I like the life I've led, but how would it have turned out if I had stayed home as the area exploded with opportunity? Maybe I would have met the perfect woman, found the perfect job and fell into the perfect 2 car, 3 kid suburban life. I say I like my life and that is true. I just don't know if I can say that I like it better. I suppose I'm to the "what if" stage of life.

I think a lot more mattresses get sold every day than we think. It's surprising, really.

There's a customer that has this really nice Lincoln that comes in to the bank very frequently. Her front plate says "This car belongs to Jesus". I figure one day I'm just gonna hop in it and go for a ride. I don't see much of a problem with it. However, should I find myself on the hard end of an explaination for my actions with a Hillsborough County Sheriff's Deputy, I believe I will tell him not to worry. This car belongs to Jesus, and Jesus loves me.

I don't know whether to be a bootlegger or a pimp. NASCAR was born out of bootlegging. But a pimp gets to wear a fur coat.

The cat's screaming at the back door and the wife's screaming at the front door. Who do you let in first? Keep in mind that the cat will shut up once you let them in.

If you'd shine half a shoe, you'd do half a job- Capt Phil Coady, Commanding Officer, USS Antietam

In the paper, I read Opinions first, Editorials second, Local news third and National news fourth. If I cannot get to the local and national news it's no biggie. Murder, suffering, scandal, and war. All you gotta do is change the byline. But I like to read the Opinions and Editorials to either find like minded folk or to confirm my suspicion that everybody else is a freak-in' moe-ron!

Words writ, but not in anger:













Been Tryin' 17 August 2006

I used to paint the town
In shades of black. In shades of jealousy
I didn't have direction
In my hard carousing life

I just grabbed for what I wanted
Did not separate the wants from needs
And absent any guidance
Darkness overtook the light

Can't you see what you need
I am here on bended knees
And I'm tryin' to talk to angels
Can't you see

When the clouds were breaking
From the thunderstorm's unpretty truths
You were close beside me
When the moon slipped through the mist

It's so hard to be holy
We have never been the patient kind
Trapped in Southern gothic
How'd it ever come to this?

Can't you see what you need
I am here on bended knees
And I'm tryin' to talk to angels
Can't you see

Nothing's ever easy
Might the future bring us troubled times
Then can I lean on you for comfort?
Because you can lean on me

When every breath's a gamble
Have to play the cards the way they're dealt
But if you get all right with Jesus
Don't gotta worry 'bout those things

Can't you see what you need
I am here on bended knees
I've been tryin' to talk to angels
Can't you see

Ed
Brandon Blvd

Answers to What Do These Things have in Common?
A) Nothing; B) Nothing; C) Nothing

Enconsed in Wisconsin

I know a lot of people feel like they were destined for great things. I kinda know how they feel, although I just felt like I might be destined for things.

I thought it was a moth because it was night and fairly near the front entance lights. Then I decided, no, it's a bat. But it was kinda slow to be a bat. Turned out to be a doggone hummingbird. A couple of moments later my favorite lesbian Puerto Rican girl (I have a strict don't ask-don't tell policy on Puerto Ricanism, though) drove up and I motioned her over to look. We watched a couple of minutes. She said, "That 's nice. What's you're name." I said "It's Ed, my gay friend, but I must warn you, I am not like you. I am caucasion." We cracked up.

I do enjoy that burps still taste like watermelon even when it's been hours since you ate it.

I don't know which would be better. If I was to become a pimp or a bootlegger. A bootlegger can be the life of the party and impress underage chicks. But a pimp gets to wear a fur coat.

I have found that it's the scary things that seem to frighten me the most.

Maybe I'm old fashioned. Maybe I expect too much in this life. But I still cling to the belief that when you flush your toilet, ALL the turds shoud hasten on down the drainpipe, regardless of their relative bouancy.

For Ed Abbey:
We were re-writing Puff The Magic Dragon

Snuffaluffacus, the magic dragon lived by Sesame Street
And talked with his plugged nose in the autumn mist in a land called Woolymammothville,
Little jackie paper loved that rascal Snuffaluffacus,
And brought him red wool and yellow birdfriends and other fancy stuff. oh

Snuffaluffacus, the magic dragon lived by Sesame Street
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Woolymammothville,
Snuffaluffacus, the magic dragon lived by Sesame Street
And talked with his plugged nose in the autumn mist in a land called Woolymammothville.

Yeah I know. It seemed it would be cooler when I was thinking about it. Like they might say at a Devil Ray's game, "It's a swing and a miss."

These be the words of the day:

Run Down The Lines 8 August, 2006

Run down the lines
The disappearing lines
Run down the lines
The thin, white, lonely lines

Been known as a road tripping fool
Since I was old enough to drive
There's something about moving on down
That makes you feel like you're alive
You know what I'm saying
It's nothing new I'm putting out
Don't always get where I'm going
But I get where I am right now

Run down the lines
The disappearing lines
Run down the lines
The thin, white, lonely lines

I was drinking beer and killing time
With a mellow young Wisconsinite
In a joint on down Peewaukee way
On a pleasant summer's night
Just barely old enough to shave
He was wise way beyond his years
Said, "I'm gonna paint my El Camino black
And ride them dark ponies out of here"

Run down the lines
The disappearing lines
Run down the lines
The thin, white, lonely lines

I looked at his face, it was then I knew
He was way past the thinking part
Said he had two hundred dollars saved
That he knew wouldn't take him far
"But it really ought to get me somewhere
Past that city limit sign
If I only make it out to Buttholeville
That'll be fine...All part of the design"

Run down the lines
The disappearing lines
Run down the lines
The thin, white, lonely lines

I took a long draw on that fifty cent draft
I sat and thought it over some
I said, "Boy, that isn't much of a plan
But it's exactly what I would have done
This place can never hold you
But it's always where you're from
Boy, paint that El Camino black
And you let them dark ponies run"

Run down the lines
The disappearing lines
Run down the lines
The thin, white, lonely lines

Ed
Brandon Blvd.

Bonus words what been writ:

(This may or may not yet be complete...depends on if I get bit by the lightning bug of inspiration again or not.-Ed)

DADG 8 August 2006

Don't consider myself as the crying kind
Don't think of myself as a man who'd beg
Don't like to play games where somebody gets hurt
Hearts ain't really that strong
And what is it worth?

The days passing by and I'm so confused
I don't understand what I think I feel
Though I don't want to feel like I'm being used
Let me tell you what's real
Let me tell you the truth

Give me a reason to hold you tight
Baby, I wanna make love all night
Make time stand still
Give me an answer that don't mean no
I wanna make love real soft and slow
You know we will

I never knew much about a woman's ways
I never could read in between the lines
Just say what you mean, or maybe mean what you say
Like I'm doing right now
To grab this moment in time

Give me a reason to hold you tight
Baby, I wanna make love all night
Make time stand still
Give me an answer that don't mean no
I wanna make love real soft and slow
You know we will

Ed
Brandon Blvd.

She's the best looking girl in Buttholeville, out
Ramblin' Ed