Beerboy 1 calling Beerboy Mothership, Come In Mothership!!
At an emergency Press Conference President Obama just announced that he was placing himself on the Terrorist Watchlist. This is because of his close connections to hot spots in Africa. Obama also stated that he was extremely upset with the Secret Service and Homeland Security for not having already placed him on the Watchlist. "Anyone who trusts me, that is not someone I trust!" emphatically stated Obama. Obama promised that "heads would role" at the Secret Service and Homeland Security--thereby making a statement showing the justification for the President placing himself on the Terrorist Watchlist.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Saturday, December 26, 2009
David Lynch's Lost Highway
How to Enjoy David Lynch’s “Lost Highway” and Keep Out of the Loony Hospital
Lost Highway is a fantastic ride through visual and auditory symbols. After seeing the film you can feel as schizo as the main characters.
Something deep in the back of your brain tells you this film is easier to understand than any day you have ever lived through. Something up in the front of your brain says the back of your brain has finally gone completely loony. So, what is it, have you met reality face to face, or are the lawyers finally going to be able to get you declared crazy, and take away your trust fund?
Fear not, back-of–the-brainers. There’s a way for Perry Mason to get you off. You can claim to understand “Lost Highway”, and still live off your grandfather’s trust fund. Listen closely, take notes, and all will be “okay, real okie dokie, okay”.
It starts like this. The key to deciphering the plot of Lost Highway is to understand the character played by Robert Blake, The Mystery Man. I see Mystery Man as a demon seeking to recruit the character played by Bill Pullman, Fred. The relationship between Mystery Man and Fred is similar to that of the relationship a demon or demons have with a shaman. There are a number of references in the movie that I believe point toward these conclusions. First, however, I’ll discuss a few points about shamanism that will give insight into Mystery Man and Fred’s relationship.
In the New Age religious movement some people think it is desirable to be drawn into the lifestyle of a shaman. In most native cultures, though, being called as a shaman is not seen as desirable. The experience of Siberians shamans serves as a common example.
In Siberian nomadic tribes most individuals try to reject the calling to be a shaman. A tribe member knows that if they become a shaman their life will be wrecked. The tribe member has seen what happens to shamans. Shamans live a life of mental illness, being compelled by demons. Americans may prefer the word “spirit” instead of the word “demon”. Read how Siberian nomads describe the “spirits” a shaman works with, and you can see how “demon” is a more accurate description.
A newly initiated shaman’s immediate family will be emotionally devastated by the demands of the demons made on the shaman. The rest of the tribe will benefit from the shamans work. It is work, though, that most tribe members want to be done by someone other than themselves. Think of this while watching Lost Highway.
Also, consider that the anthropological evidence for the relationship between demons and shamans is such that no one should doubt that shamans really do interrelate with demons. The way it works is that a demon or demons choose the human they want and drag the human into shamanism. In native cultures the initiate and the rest of the tribe would recognize what was happening. What about in spiritually stunted cultures denying the existence of the shamanistic process? The demons are still going to come looking for initiates. The problem is that probably the initiates and those around the initiate will not realize what is happening. They have not been trained to recognize the signs of being called into shamanism. This lack of awareness about shamanistic culture is present in the world of Lost Highway.
With those thoughts in mind let’s get back to Lost Highway. For me, a key clue indicating the film has a demon-shamanistic worldview is shown when Mystery Man and Robert Loggia’s character, Mr. Eddy, are making a phone call to Balthazar Getty’s character, Pete Dayton. Mystery Man tells Pete that “In the east, in the far East…” and goes on to describe an execution technique. This reference shows Mystery Man is familiar with the Far East nomadic life. Nomadic Central Asian cultures practice shamanistic religions.
As to Mystery Man being a demon, I see this explained
in the dominant position Mystery Man has over the other characters. Mystery Man maneuvers supernaturally through the story, demonstrating omniscience and omnipresence.
One example of this maneuvering is when Mystery Man and Fred are killing Mr. Eddy. Mr. Eddy asks, “What do you guys want?” Mystery Man gives Mr. Eddy a small video player. In the video player we see moments from Mr. Eddy’s decadent, arrogant and evil life. How did Mystery Man record these moments? Why at the end of the videotape do we see Mystery Man and Fred moving just as they are in real time? I see the answer to this explained by Mystery Man being a demon. A demon could use any number of means to make such a recording of past events tied in with a live, real time event.
Another telling reference indicating Mystery Man to be a demon is when he says that Fred had invited him into Fred’s house; “I am not in the custom of going where I am not invited.” A tenet of demonic, supernatural accountability is that a demon can only overtly enter a person’s life unless first the person asks that specific demon, or another demon into their life.
I see two ways to explain how Fred made this invitation. One, is that Mystery Man is a succubus with Renee/Alice as his female disguise, and Fred invited the succubus into his life. The other explanation is that Renee, most probably through her abuse of sex, opened herself to control by demons. When Fred brought Renee into his life the demon Mystery Man came along.
The succubus theory works well for a number of reasons, but seems to have a significant flaw. During the party at Andy’s house Mystery Man and Renee appear on the screen almost at the same time. If we see the two characters at the same time, then they most probably can’t be two different manifestations of the same being.
Now, they don’t appear on the screen at the same time, and nothing in a Lynch movie seems to happen by accident. Still, because of the near joint appearance I am going to lean toward Renee being human and having invited the demon Mystery Man into her life. For Renee this invitation probably was indirect, through asking lower demons into her life by participating in debauched sex. Once the lower demons are in her life by implication she has also invited in more powerful demons, such as Mystery Man. I don’t think Mystery Man physically interacted with Renee as he does Fred.
There are other references that could indicate Mystery Man is a demon. One is Mystery Man’s knowledge of Fred’s attitude toward video cameras. Fred tells two detectives that he doesn’t like video cameras. Fred says he likes to “remember things as I want to remember them, not as they really happened”. Toward the end of the film Mystery Man aggressively confronts Fred with a video camera. I say this shows Mystery Man’s knowledge of Fred’s attitude toward video cameras. How did Mystery Man acquire this knowledge? I think he did so through demonic supernatural presence and knowledge.
I also think that the “mysterious” videos that appear on Fred’s doorsteps came from Mystery Man. One indication of this is when in the second tape the images on the video tape jump from outside the house to inside. During this jump the tape displays a high increase in static. If the entrance into the house were done by simple burglary methods the tape would not need to have an increase in static. If, however, the being doing the video taping physically dematerialized in order to pass into the house this would explain the increased static. Dematerialization disrupts the electric fields of beings and electric devices. A demon such as Mystery Man would be capable of dematerialization
Towards the end of the film Alice makes her statement, “You can never have me”. This for me indicates a demonic influence. This could be a reference to Alice/Renee being a succubus. I lean, though, toward this being a reference to the mirage existence for Fred/Pete created when Mystery Man combined the realities of Fred and Pete.
In Western and Eastern magic traditions there is belief that demons can physically combine two humans, with the consciousness of one human having dominance. In the film Pete and Fred are physically and psychically combined, with one character having dominance over the other. I will later go into more detail about implications from this combined reality. Right now I will say that if Mystery Man is a demon he would be capable of producing this combining.
The action of Lost Highway results when Mystery Man chooses to call Fred as a shamanistic initiate. This calling involves Mystery Man revealing himself to Fred and bringing Fred in on the vengeance against Mr. Eddy.
When the film opens Fred is sitting in his house. He is highly emotionally distraught, and appears to have been so for quite some time. This emotional state is compatible with the state experienced by shaman initiates just before the demons make a full fledged revealing of themselves to the initiate.
In the film one of the first instances of this revealing occurs when after sex Renee pats Fred on the back. Fred responds as though he feels something ominous in her touch. He acts as though this is a new experience for him, as though he is getting a realization from the touch. David Lynch highlights Fred’s realization about Renee by using foreboding music. Lynch also has Renee wearing black nail polish, which I see in this film as a sign of evil. In an interview I heard Lynch say that his movies are influenced by Christian morality. He also carefully picks the colors used in his movies. Interpreting black as a sign of evil would fit Christian morality.
During sex, and before the back patting a white light flash obscures the screen. I see this as an indication that Fred’s shamanistic heightened senses are flowering. After the flash Renee appears more emotionally blank. Fred is seeing through her deceptive adultery.
I know from reading and viewing documentary material about Lost Highway that Lynch spent considerable time choosing colors in Fred’s house. Lynch wanted the colors to portray specific moods. Lynch so wanted to control the mood expressed by the houses’ furnishing that he himself made at least some of the furniture. When viewing the end result I think it obvious that part of what Lynch wanted was a sense of foreboding.
Shortly after the touching incident Fred looks at Renee and sees a man’s face on Renee’s body, a face we later learn to be Mystery Man’s. This is the first overt revealing of Mystery Man to Fred. By overlaying his face on Renee, Mystery Man is giving us warning about Renee. She can’t be trusted.
There are several instances in Lost Highway that can be explained by bilocation. Bilocation is the state of being or the ability to be in two places at the same time. Belief in bilocation is part of Eastern and Western religious traditions. Both humans and demons are capable of bilocation. A recent example from TV is that of Caine, the character in the TV series “Kung Fu:The Legend Continues”, who was able to achieve bilocation.
In Lost Highway bilocation is a way to explain an incident during a party at Andy’s house. Mystery Man hands Fred a cell phone, and tells Fred to “call me, I’m at your house”. Fred calls his house, and we hear the voice of Mystery Man on the other end of the phone. We see Blake’s character at the party and hear him at the other character’s home. This dual location of Mystery Man can be explained using bilocation.
Another occurrence that can be explained using bilocation is when Fred arrives home from Andy’s party, and sees light flashes in his house. During bilocation an astral or etheric body is produced. This astral body is the etheric duplicate of the original physical body. One theory about astral bodies is that chakras are used by the astral body as sense organs. When the astral duplicate is recalled to the original physical body the dissipation of the duplicates chakras results in light flashes.
When Fred is in prison he has a premonition of the cabin scene toward the end of the film. I see this as evidence of the development of Fred’s shamanistic abilities.
After Fred and Pete combine in the prison we see Pete with a distended face. I see this as evidence of two forms having been combined. As the combining settles Pete’s outward appearance takes predominance.
There is one short scene where we see Fred rolling violently on the prison floor. The camera speed is so fast that even in slow motion it is difficult to make out Fred’s face. After watching this scene a number of times in slow motion I believe it is clear that at the beginning of the scene Fred is laying on the floor. At the end of the scene Pete is laying on the floor in place of Fred.
Earlier I mentioned that I would go into more detail about Pete and Fred’s combining. In shamanistic theory it is said that it is impossible to completely separate the two consciences. At the least, the repressed personality becomes the dominant personalities subconscious.
One character in the film states that Pete is not the same after “that night”. Sheila does this when she is confronting Pete over his infidelity. I think Sheila sensed Fred’s presence.
When Pete hears the jazz music in the garage this causes him discomfort. This is because focusing on the jazz music begins to bring Fred’s consciousness into dominance.
Renee becomes Alice through a combining of Fred and Pete’s perceptions of the world. For the dominant personality the world becomes something like a mirage. The world has a physical reality, but is altered, something like how drugs can alter the perception of reality.
Alice is drawn to Pete because she senses the presence of Fred. Alice/Renee does love Fred, she is just promiscuous.
As to why Mystery Man chooses to use Pete this could be either because Mystery Man wants to also initiate Pete, or just needs a vehicle to serve as protection and a means of vengeance for Fred. There is an indication that Pete and Mystery Man have met. When the Daytons talk to Pete about the night Pete appeared in the prison cell they say Pete was with a “mysterious man” who they had never seen before. I think this man was Mystery Man. Mr. Eddy values Pete as a mechanic. Therefore Pete is a vehicle for producing confrontation with Mr. Eddy.
Andy being killed begins the process of bringing Fred’s personality to dominance. This shows in Pete’s bloody nose. This is an indication that the physical separating of Fred and Pete is approaching.
When Alice disappears into the cabin this is the point where Fred is separated from Pete. I say this because the next time we see her, Renee has been separated from Alice. Alice was the product of Fred and Pete’s combined worldview. So, if we are seeing Renee again then Fred must be separate from Pete.
Now Fred exacts his revenge on Mr. Eddy. At the Lost Highway motel we see Mr. Eddy in an illicit encounter with Renee. Fred instinctively knows how to handle Mr. Eddy because Pete’s memories linger in Fred’s subconscious.
Why did Mystery Man decide to kill Mr. Eddy? In the dark world of demonic and shamanistic relations there is no mercy. A human gets powers from the demonic supernatural realm as long as the demons want to give the power or are manipulated into having to give the powers. If a human is either no longer useful to the demon, or the human’s ability to manipulate the demon is disrupted, then the demon can retaliate. Mr. Eddy has been arrogant and must pay.
Since Mystery Man knows Mr. Eddy’s death is coming, he needs another human to control. This is one reason why he approaches Fred. Mystery Man’s motivation for using Fred as an instrument of vengeance could be because Mystery Man believes Fred is due some justice. This is not Judeo-Christian justice. This is justice without mercy, defilement of justice defined as an individual attempting to exceed their proper place in the universe. Mr. Eddy’s arrogance and decadence exceeded the honor due him in the demonic realm, and secondarily impinged on Fred. Therefore, Mystery Man believes Fred deserves to participate in the vengeance against Mr. Eddy.
Almost at the end we see Fred driving while being pursued by police. Fred begins to go through similar physical changes as he did in prison when he combined with Pete. I think that this time Mystery Man is combining Fred with someone else other than Pete. The police will stop Fred’s car, see a driver other than Fred, and be in a similar predicament as when Pete was discovered in Fred’s prison cell. The combined Fred will be set free, then at a later date Mystery Man will separate Fred from the other person. Mystery Man will then use Fred as his shaman.
I base the latter interpretation on Mystery Man’s whispering to Fred after the killing of Mr. Eddy. I think that Mystery Man was bringing Fred into his confidence. Mystery Man told Fred to go back to his house and utter into the intercom, “Dick Lareunt is dead.” Mystery Man also gave Fred some of the details I have mentioned.
I also think it is not coincidental that pornography is prominent in the plot. In theories of demonism it has been said that extra-marital heterosexual sex and any homosexual sex produce a corruption of the soul. This corruption gives off a rebellious energy that demons can metabolize for increased power. A powerful demon such as Mystery Man would use this rebellious energy to empower his ability to achieve his schemes. Mystery Man therefore has a good reason to be around people involved in pornography.
One point I haven’t discussed yet is when we see and hear early in the film that Renee has been killed, yet we see her alive at the end of the film. One possibility is that towards the end of the film Fred has traveled to the past, and encounters Renee at the Lost Highway motel before her murder. Proof of this could be that further on towards the end of the film we see Fred delivering the intercom message that Fred hears near the beginning of the film. When we heard the intercom message in the beginning of the film we also heard screeching tires, cars driving fast and police siren noise. When Fred actually delivers the message all of the noises we previously heard are matched with action. So, I believe that at the end of the film Fred has gone back in time, before Renee’s murder.
And remember Lynch co-wrote Lost Highway with Barry Gifford. Gifford is known for writing supernatural, mystical, violent novels. Go online, read a few synopsis’ of Gifford novels, and it will be evident that my analysis is in line with something Gifford would write.
So, folks, this is the way it is, and don’t let any slick lawyer make you change your story. Save this article, file it away deep where no lawyer can slip into your house and find it, no matter how bad your hangover. This article may one day be your Holy Grail. Cling tight to this paper, live long and prosper.
by
Skip McRobert
END
Lost Highway is a fantastic ride through visual and auditory symbols. After seeing the film you can feel as schizo as the main characters.
Something deep in the back of your brain tells you this film is easier to understand than any day you have ever lived through. Something up in the front of your brain says the back of your brain has finally gone completely loony. So, what is it, have you met reality face to face, or are the lawyers finally going to be able to get you declared crazy, and take away your trust fund?
Fear not, back-of–the-brainers. There’s a way for Perry Mason to get you off. You can claim to understand “Lost Highway”, and still live off your grandfather’s trust fund. Listen closely, take notes, and all will be “okay, real okie dokie, okay”.
It starts like this. The key to deciphering the plot of Lost Highway is to understand the character played by Robert Blake, The Mystery Man. I see Mystery Man as a demon seeking to recruit the character played by Bill Pullman, Fred. The relationship between Mystery Man and Fred is similar to that of the relationship a demon or demons have with a shaman. There are a number of references in the movie that I believe point toward these conclusions. First, however, I’ll discuss a few points about shamanism that will give insight into Mystery Man and Fred’s relationship.
In the New Age religious movement some people think it is desirable to be drawn into the lifestyle of a shaman. In most native cultures, though, being called as a shaman is not seen as desirable. The experience of Siberians shamans serves as a common example.
In Siberian nomadic tribes most individuals try to reject the calling to be a shaman. A tribe member knows that if they become a shaman their life will be wrecked. The tribe member has seen what happens to shamans. Shamans live a life of mental illness, being compelled by demons. Americans may prefer the word “spirit” instead of the word “demon”. Read how Siberian nomads describe the “spirits” a shaman works with, and you can see how “demon” is a more accurate description.
A newly initiated shaman’s immediate family will be emotionally devastated by the demands of the demons made on the shaman. The rest of the tribe will benefit from the shamans work. It is work, though, that most tribe members want to be done by someone other than themselves. Think of this while watching Lost Highway.
Also, consider that the anthropological evidence for the relationship between demons and shamans is such that no one should doubt that shamans really do interrelate with demons. The way it works is that a demon or demons choose the human they want and drag the human into shamanism. In native cultures the initiate and the rest of the tribe would recognize what was happening. What about in spiritually stunted cultures denying the existence of the shamanistic process? The demons are still going to come looking for initiates. The problem is that probably the initiates and those around the initiate will not realize what is happening. They have not been trained to recognize the signs of being called into shamanism. This lack of awareness about shamanistic culture is present in the world of Lost Highway.
With those thoughts in mind let’s get back to Lost Highway. For me, a key clue indicating the film has a demon-shamanistic worldview is shown when Mystery Man and Robert Loggia’s character, Mr. Eddy, are making a phone call to Balthazar Getty’s character, Pete Dayton. Mystery Man tells Pete that “In the east, in the far East…” and goes on to describe an execution technique. This reference shows Mystery Man is familiar with the Far East nomadic life. Nomadic Central Asian cultures practice shamanistic religions.
As to Mystery Man being a demon, I see this explained
in the dominant position Mystery Man has over the other characters. Mystery Man maneuvers supernaturally through the story, demonstrating omniscience and omnipresence.
One example of this maneuvering is when Mystery Man and Fred are killing Mr. Eddy. Mr. Eddy asks, “What do you guys want?” Mystery Man gives Mr. Eddy a small video player. In the video player we see moments from Mr. Eddy’s decadent, arrogant and evil life. How did Mystery Man record these moments? Why at the end of the videotape do we see Mystery Man and Fred moving just as they are in real time? I see the answer to this explained by Mystery Man being a demon. A demon could use any number of means to make such a recording of past events tied in with a live, real time event.
Another telling reference indicating Mystery Man to be a demon is when he says that Fred had invited him into Fred’s house; “I am not in the custom of going where I am not invited.” A tenet of demonic, supernatural accountability is that a demon can only overtly enter a person’s life unless first the person asks that specific demon, or another demon into their life.
I see two ways to explain how Fred made this invitation. One, is that Mystery Man is a succubus with Renee/Alice as his female disguise, and Fred invited the succubus into his life. The other explanation is that Renee, most probably through her abuse of sex, opened herself to control by demons. When Fred brought Renee into his life the demon Mystery Man came along.
The succubus theory works well for a number of reasons, but seems to have a significant flaw. During the party at Andy’s house Mystery Man and Renee appear on the screen almost at the same time. If we see the two characters at the same time, then they most probably can’t be two different manifestations of the same being.
Now, they don’t appear on the screen at the same time, and nothing in a Lynch movie seems to happen by accident. Still, because of the near joint appearance I am going to lean toward Renee being human and having invited the demon Mystery Man into her life. For Renee this invitation probably was indirect, through asking lower demons into her life by participating in debauched sex. Once the lower demons are in her life by implication she has also invited in more powerful demons, such as Mystery Man. I don’t think Mystery Man physically interacted with Renee as he does Fred.
There are other references that could indicate Mystery Man is a demon. One is Mystery Man’s knowledge of Fred’s attitude toward video cameras. Fred tells two detectives that he doesn’t like video cameras. Fred says he likes to “remember things as I want to remember them, not as they really happened”. Toward the end of the film Mystery Man aggressively confronts Fred with a video camera. I say this shows Mystery Man’s knowledge of Fred’s attitude toward video cameras. How did Mystery Man acquire this knowledge? I think he did so through demonic supernatural presence and knowledge.
I also think that the “mysterious” videos that appear on Fred’s doorsteps came from Mystery Man. One indication of this is when in the second tape the images on the video tape jump from outside the house to inside. During this jump the tape displays a high increase in static. If the entrance into the house were done by simple burglary methods the tape would not need to have an increase in static. If, however, the being doing the video taping physically dematerialized in order to pass into the house this would explain the increased static. Dematerialization disrupts the electric fields of beings and electric devices. A demon such as Mystery Man would be capable of dematerialization
Towards the end of the film Alice makes her statement, “You can never have me”. This for me indicates a demonic influence. This could be a reference to Alice/Renee being a succubus. I lean, though, toward this being a reference to the mirage existence for Fred/Pete created when Mystery Man combined the realities of Fred and Pete.
In Western and Eastern magic traditions there is belief that demons can physically combine two humans, with the consciousness of one human having dominance. In the film Pete and Fred are physically and psychically combined, with one character having dominance over the other. I will later go into more detail about implications from this combined reality. Right now I will say that if Mystery Man is a demon he would be capable of producing this combining.
The action of Lost Highway results when Mystery Man chooses to call Fred as a shamanistic initiate. This calling involves Mystery Man revealing himself to Fred and bringing Fred in on the vengeance against Mr. Eddy.
When the film opens Fred is sitting in his house. He is highly emotionally distraught, and appears to have been so for quite some time. This emotional state is compatible with the state experienced by shaman initiates just before the demons make a full fledged revealing of themselves to the initiate.
In the film one of the first instances of this revealing occurs when after sex Renee pats Fred on the back. Fred responds as though he feels something ominous in her touch. He acts as though this is a new experience for him, as though he is getting a realization from the touch. David Lynch highlights Fred’s realization about Renee by using foreboding music. Lynch also has Renee wearing black nail polish, which I see in this film as a sign of evil. In an interview I heard Lynch say that his movies are influenced by Christian morality. He also carefully picks the colors used in his movies. Interpreting black as a sign of evil would fit Christian morality.
During sex, and before the back patting a white light flash obscures the screen. I see this as an indication that Fred’s shamanistic heightened senses are flowering. After the flash Renee appears more emotionally blank. Fred is seeing through her deceptive adultery.
I know from reading and viewing documentary material about Lost Highway that Lynch spent considerable time choosing colors in Fred’s house. Lynch wanted the colors to portray specific moods. Lynch so wanted to control the mood expressed by the houses’ furnishing that he himself made at least some of the furniture. When viewing the end result I think it obvious that part of what Lynch wanted was a sense of foreboding.
Shortly after the touching incident Fred looks at Renee and sees a man’s face on Renee’s body, a face we later learn to be Mystery Man’s. This is the first overt revealing of Mystery Man to Fred. By overlaying his face on Renee, Mystery Man is giving us warning about Renee. She can’t be trusted.
There are several instances in Lost Highway that can be explained by bilocation. Bilocation is the state of being or the ability to be in two places at the same time. Belief in bilocation is part of Eastern and Western religious traditions. Both humans and demons are capable of bilocation. A recent example from TV is that of Caine, the character in the TV series “Kung Fu:The Legend Continues”, who was able to achieve bilocation.
In Lost Highway bilocation is a way to explain an incident during a party at Andy’s house. Mystery Man hands Fred a cell phone, and tells Fred to “call me, I’m at your house”. Fred calls his house, and we hear the voice of Mystery Man on the other end of the phone. We see Blake’s character at the party and hear him at the other character’s home. This dual location of Mystery Man can be explained using bilocation.
Another occurrence that can be explained using bilocation is when Fred arrives home from Andy’s party, and sees light flashes in his house. During bilocation an astral or etheric body is produced. This astral body is the etheric duplicate of the original physical body. One theory about astral bodies is that chakras are used by the astral body as sense organs. When the astral duplicate is recalled to the original physical body the dissipation of the duplicates chakras results in light flashes.
When Fred is in prison he has a premonition of the cabin scene toward the end of the film. I see this as evidence of the development of Fred’s shamanistic abilities.
After Fred and Pete combine in the prison we see Pete with a distended face. I see this as evidence of two forms having been combined. As the combining settles Pete’s outward appearance takes predominance.
There is one short scene where we see Fred rolling violently on the prison floor. The camera speed is so fast that even in slow motion it is difficult to make out Fred’s face. After watching this scene a number of times in slow motion I believe it is clear that at the beginning of the scene Fred is laying on the floor. At the end of the scene Pete is laying on the floor in place of Fred.
Earlier I mentioned that I would go into more detail about Pete and Fred’s combining. In shamanistic theory it is said that it is impossible to completely separate the two consciences. At the least, the repressed personality becomes the dominant personalities subconscious.
One character in the film states that Pete is not the same after “that night”. Sheila does this when she is confronting Pete over his infidelity. I think Sheila sensed Fred’s presence.
When Pete hears the jazz music in the garage this causes him discomfort. This is because focusing on the jazz music begins to bring Fred’s consciousness into dominance.
Renee becomes Alice through a combining of Fred and Pete’s perceptions of the world. For the dominant personality the world becomes something like a mirage. The world has a physical reality, but is altered, something like how drugs can alter the perception of reality.
Alice is drawn to Pete because she senses the presence of Fred. Alice/Renee does love Fred, she is just promiscuous.
As to why Mystery Man chooses to use Pete this could be either because Mystery Man wants to also initiate Pete, or just needs a vehicle to serve as protection and a means of vengeance for Fred. There is an indication that Pete and Mystery Man have met. When the Daytons talk to Pete about the night Pete appeared in the prison cell they say Pete was with a “mysterious man” who they had never seen before. I think this man was Mystery Man. Mr. Eddy values Pete as a mechanic. Therefore Pete is a vehicle for producing confrontation with Mr. Eddy.
Andy being killed begins the process of bringing Fred’s personality to dominance. This shows in Pete’s bloody nose. This is an indication that the physical separating of Fred and Pete is approaching.
When Alice disappears into the cabin this is the point where Fred is separated from Pete. I say this because the next time we see her, Renee has been separated from Alice. Alice was the product of Fred and Pete’s combined worldview. So, if we are seeing Renee again then Fred must be separate from Pete.
Now Fred exacts his revenge on Mr. Eddy. At the Lost Highway motel we see Mr. Eddy in an illicit encounter with Renee. Fred instinctively knows how to handle Mr. Eddy because Pete’s memories linger in Fred’s subconscious.
Why did Mystery Man decide to kill Mr. Eddy? In the dark world of demonic and shamanistic relations there is no mercy. A human gets powers from the demonic supernatural realm as long as the demons want to give the power or are manipulated into having to give the powers. If a human is either no longer useful to the demon, or the human’s ability to manipulate the demon is disrupted, then the demon can retaliate. Mr. Eddy has been arrogant and must pay.
Since Mystery Man knows Mr. Eddy’s death is coming, he needs another human to control. This is one reason why he approaches Fred. Mystery Man’s motivation for using Fred as an instrument of vengeance could be because Mystery Man believes Fred is due some justice. This is not Judeo-Christian justice. This is justice without mercy, defilement of justice defined as an individual attempting to exceed their proper place in the universe. Mr. Eddy’s arrogance and decadence exceeded the honor due him in the demonic realm, and secondarily impinged on Fred. Therefore, Mystery Man believes Fred deserves to participate in the vengeance against Mr. Eddy.
Almost at the end we see Fred driving while being pursued by police. Fred begins to go through similar physical changes as he did in prison when he combined with Pete. I think that this time Mystery Man is combining Fred with someone else other than Pete. The police will stop Fred’s car, see a driver other than Fred, and be in a similar predicament as when Pete was discovered in Fred’s prison cell. The combined Fred will be set free, then at a later date Mystery Man will separate Fred from the other person. Mystery Man will then use Fred as his shaman.
I base the latter interpretation on Mystery Man’s whispering to Fred after the killing of Mr. Eddy. I think that Mystery Man was bringing Fred into his confidence. Mystery Man told Fred to go back to his house and utter into the intercom, “Dick Lareunt is dead.” Mystery Man also gave Fred some of the details I have mentioned.
I also think it is not coincidental that pornography is prominent in the plot. In theories of demonism it has been said that extra-marital heterosexual sex and any homosexual sex produce a corruption of the soul. This corruption gives off a rebellious energy that demons can metabolize for increased power. A powerful demon such as Mystery Man would use this rebellious energy to empower his ability to achieve his schemes. Mystery Man therefore has a good reason to be around people involved in pornography.
One point I haven’t discussed yet is when we see and hear early in the film that Renee has been killed, yet we see her alive at the end of the film. One possibility is that towards the end of the film Fred has traveled to the past, and encounters Renee at the Lost Highway motel before her murder. Proof of this could be that further on towards the end of the film we see Fred delivering the intercom message that Fred hears near the beginning of the film. When we heard the intercom message in the beginning of the film we also heard screeching tires, cars driving fast and police siren noise. When Fred actually delivers the message all of the noises we previously heard are matched with action. So, I believe that at the end of the film Fred has gone back in time, before Renee’s murder.
And remember Lynch co-wrote Lost Highway with Barry Gifford. Gifford is known for writing supernatural, mystical, violent novels. Go online, read a few synopsis’ of Gifford novels, and it will be evident that my analysis is in line with something Gifford would write.
So, folks, this is the way it is, and don’t let any slick lawyer make you change your story. Save this article, file it away deep where no lawyer can slip into your house and find it, no matter how bad your hangover. This article may one day be your Holy Grail. Cling tight to this paper, live long and prosper.
by
Skip McRobert
END
Thursday, December 24, 2009
David the Con Man--Potatos and Mercedes
David the Con Man--Turning Potatoes Into Mercedes
This lesson is about the need to be able to improvise. That’s the one thing TV most discourages, teaching the audience how to improvise. You? You need to improvise even in your sleep. Dreamtime is not down time for a scammer. You must always have your guard up. Sleep time is the perfect time to practice. Scamming is about bringing potential reality into actual existence. Scamming is about molding reality into the shape that best suits your needs. It’s about knowing that if you don’t do the molding first, someone else will, and then you’re the one scammed. So, pull out that potato peeler, run it close to the edge of reality’s peel, and cut away:
Dear Disciple,
The money is flowing in from the “wind tunnel” scam thick as a herd of buttered trout jerking through a vacuum cleaner hose. I won’t be starving this week! But, whoa, I got to be mindful of being careless! Easy money can make you fat and lazy. These big time scams are best for raking in the big bucks. But, they’re impersonal; you aren’t looking the sucker in the eye and shaking his hand. It’s the one-on-one scams that keep you sharp. So, after every successful big scam I run a small one, just to keep my edge.
I decided to use a barter scam. These can take a while to pull off; you have to keep your focus. That’s good training. Where should I go hunting for my victim? I got out a map of the East Coast. I laid it on the kitchen table, and put a bottle of beer 2 feet from the map. I pushed the bottle over and watched. The beer sloshed toward the map. Wherever the biggest puddle formed, that’s where I’d head. A big puddle settled between 2 folds in my old wrinkled map. I pushed aside the beer and read—Boston.
Early next morning I packed one small bag, made my way to the mainland, then flew down. It had been a long time since I’d been to Boston. For one day I scouted the town and made phone calls. That night I stayed in a run down motel. I didn’t want luxury distracting me.
In the morning I put on some old clothes, and went out to rent a beat up truck. Next I headed for a produce wholesale place, picked up around half a truckload of bagged potatoes and onions. Not far from there I bought me a huge salmon. The food would be my bait. Every scam needs bait.
Now it was time to get to work. It was real cold that day, and I was glad. The cold could be worked in my favor. I’d found an ideal intersection, one with stop signs instead of lights. The cars would have to stop; they couldn’t just zoom past me. There was a big parking lot on one corner. That was a necessity. I wanted lots of space for my suckers to park, get their cars well off the road. When the thought jerks through their head about pulling in to buy, I didn’t want them fretting about their car. Or rather, when he wants to park his car. Today I’m not scamming the general public. I’m looking for that one special loser.
What am I looking to rip off? Got to admit I don’t have a clue. When I see it I’ll know.
Actually, today is when I pay the public back a bit--.10 a pound for potatoes and onions. I leaned my spray painted signs against the truck so the passersby got a good gander.
Now for the waiting. It’s not so much like waiting for a fish to bite. It’s more like sitting in a blind waiting for the ducks to fly over. You do the prep work. Then you wait for fate or luck to take notice of you and figure a response to your actions.
I’d left room for a walk-way to the back of the truck. There was room for 2 beat up old couch cushions and a camp stove. It’s important to use cushions, not chairs. Get the guy low to the floor in the back of an old truck with you. Put a steaming pot of potatoes and onions in between you and him. That builds trust. A false sense of trust for him; the real thing for me.
I made a few sales; well I guess in thinking about it, it had been a fairly steady morning. As I chatted up about the world’s goings on and comings forth I looked hard in to their eyes. Hunger. That’s what I had to see. Hunger that the sucker thinks comes from not having eaten longer than he’d like. But that stomach hunger was just aggravating a big deeper down hunger. Put the stomach hunger together with the deeper hunger, and you’ve got a guy who could wake up the next morning wishing he’d been more cautious the day before.
Luck’s reaction to my trolling brought me the sucker right at the end of a run on onions. As I bagged the onions for the lady who had been at the lines end the Mercedes pulled in. It was one of those expensive silver painted numbers. Even before he got out of the car I realized he was my man. This guy didn’t need to save a few bucks on food. He was looking for another kind of bargain.
He walked up looking colder than he should, considering he’d just left the car.
“What have you got?”
“Just onions and potatoes, just the basics.”
“They any good?”
“I got some cooking in the back. Take a smell for your self.”
He climbed up my homemade stairs and walked right back. Like a rat walking into a one-way maze heading for the cheese.
“I’ll close the door a bit, keep out the wind.”
I closed the door almost shut. Close enough to being shut that passersby might think I was closed. But not slammed shut. I wanted to separate my sucker from the herd, not spook him.
“Smells good”, he mumbled, looking at the pot instead of me. That was okay.
“Can’t go wrong with potatoes and onions. Hard to screw up that.”
I sat on a cushion. As Luck had it he sat on the other one.
“You got a simple operation here. Hard for the tax man to keep up with you.”
So that’s what’s eating him: taxes. I can go there. Tell him what he needs to hear. And keep an ear reserved for figuring out what I’m taking from him.
“I wouldn’t know about that. I leave him alone, he leaves me alone. Neither of us has heard from the other in a long time.”
“They know where I live. They know every one of my phone numbers.”
“Oo, phones are a big mistake, at least having one just to your self.”
“You don’t have a phone?”
“Not for years. Having your own phone’s like a deer strapping a bell around his neck. He’s just begging for the hunters to shoot him.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Let me guess; you’ve got a TV, too, don’t you.”
“Well, yeah, of course.”
“Big mistake. That’s how the tax man gets you. TV tells you what to buy. You buy it, then you got to pay taxes on it.”
“That does smell good.”
Good, the food’s working, distracting him, making him think about short term instincts instead long term survival.
“Here dish up a bowl. Like I say, no phone, and they don’t know where you live. No TV, and they can’t flush you out.”
“Man, you got it figured out. I wish I had the guts to give up my luxury and live simple like you.”
“Oh, you got that wrong. I live plenty high on as many hogs as I want. I don’t pay taxes, remember.”
“Out of this place? You don’t look rich.”
“You’re right, I don’t look it, at least around here. I save my spending for when I’m on vacation. And I take trips a lot. It’s easier to hide from the taxman when you’re moving. A moving target is harder to hit than a sitting one.”
“Man, you got it figured out. How did you come up with this plan?”
“When you’re not being bothered by the phone and TV you’ve got time to think. It just comes to you.”
“I wish I had your guts.”
“All you got to do is just step out of the rat race. I’d be willing to help.”
“Really? That’s something to think about. I’d have to do a lot of planning ahead.”
“That’s not the way to show me you’ve got the stuff. You know those circus lion and tiger trainers?”
“Yeah.”
“The circus hires them by placing ads in the paper. What the ad doesn’t tell you is what you have to do for the audition.”
“And what’s that.”
“You have to step in to a cage full of wild cats, with nothing but your bare hands. No gun, no whip, no training, nothing, right then and there, with no second chance, right then and there, go in to the cage.”
“No way!”
“The one thing a successful cat trainer’s got to have is confidence. The circus handlers can’t teach you that, you bring that with you to the job.”
“Man, they’ve got guts.”
“It’s just being smart on the circus’ part. Now, how that applies to you and me? You want to be like me, living wild and free of the tax man?”
“You bet!”
“Then, right now, right here, you’ve got to make the commitment. No going home for a change of clothes. No telling you’re friends, no closing out your stock portfolio and bank account. You got to give it all up, never look back.”
“Pretty soon the tax men are going to take it all anyway. I can’t even go get some clothes?”
“You’ve got to be untraceable. When you left the house today you didn’t do anything out the usual. If you go back now, cart suitcases to the car, that’s going to draw attention. When the taxmen come asking for you, the neighbors are going to remember. You can’t give those tax buzzards the slightest inch, or they’ll find you.”
“Man. This is a big jump!”
“There’s a salmon in the cooler. Cook it tonight. Eating wild game purges TV and phone influences from your body. Eat the whole fish tonight. You’ll be a new man, a real man.”
“It’s all this simple?”
“Trust me.”
“You caught me at the right time. What have I got to loose. All right, I’m in. What now?”
That’s it; I know what I want from this sucker.
“You’re not going to regret this. It’s simple. I give you this truck and produce; you give me your car. I’ll give you the address for buying this stuff and what cash I’ve got. Then I drive away, and you’re on your own.”
“My car?”
“You can be traced through the car. I know how to get rid of it.”
“How am I going to figure out how to live?”
“Go a few days without a phone and TV, and it will all start coming naturally to you.”
He put his bowl on the floorboards, and stood up. Then he dug out his keys.
“Here, the cars yours.”
I took the keys, grabbed his hand and gave it a good double-handed shake. I gave him about $300 bucks.
“I feel like this is all going to work out,” he said.
I gave him the keys to the truck.
“Of course it will. You got the whole rest of the day to sell. Remember, don’t ever park where they make you pay rent.”
I had the keys loose in my hand. I didn’t pocket them. That might be too much, too final, and he’d back out. Fortunately, as I rolled the door back up 3 women walked to the truck’s rear, with that ‘looking to buy’ gleam in their eyes. He, I hadn’t gotten his name on purpose, went right to work.
I drove off slowly, didn’t want to rattle him. This had been a very good scam. I had probably helped that guy out of a big jam, and his life would be better. And I had pulled off a scam, looking the sucker right in the eye. A brand new Mercedes in exchange for all I’d spent put me way ahead. I know some Russians in Pennsylvania who are always looking to buy a Mercedes. I’m going to eat out big at a fancy joint tonight!
Yours in the faith,
David
This lesson is about the need to be able to improvise. That’s the one thing TV most discourages, teaching the audience how to improvise. You? You need to improvise even in your sleep. Dreamtime is not down time for a scammer. You must always have your guard up. Sleep time is the perfect time to practice. Scamming is about bringing potential reality into actual existence. Scamming is about molding reality into the shape that best suits your needs. It’s about knowing that if you don’t do the molding first, someone else will, and then you’re the one scammed. So, pull out that potato peeler, run it close to the edge of reality’s peel, and cut away:
Dear Disciple,
The money is flowing in from the “wind tunnel” scam thick as a herd of buttered trout jerking through a vacuum cleaner hose. I won’t be starving this week! But, whoa, I got to be mindful of being careless! Easy money can make you fat and lazy. These big time scams are best for raking in the big bucks. But, they’re impersonal; you aren’t looking the sucker in the eye and shaking his hand. It’s the one-on-one scams that keep you sharp. So, after every successful big scam I run a small one, just to keep my edge.
I decided to use a barter scam. These can take a while to pull off; you have to keep your focus. That’s good training. Where should I go hunting for my victim? I got out a map of the East Coast. I laid it on the kitchen table, and put a bottle of beer 2 feet from the map. I pushed the bottle over and watched. The beer sloshed toward the map. Wherever the biggest puddle formed, that’s where I’d head. A big puddle settled between 2 folds in my old wrinkled map. I pushed aside the beer and read—Boston.
Early next morning I packed one small bag, made my way to the mainland, then flew down. It had been a long time since I’d been to Boston. For one day I scouted the town and made phone calls. That night I stayed in a run down motel. I didn’t want luxury distracting me.
In the morning I put on some old clothes, and went out to rent a beat up truck. Next I headed for a produce wholesale place, picked up around half a truckload of bagged potatoes and onions. Not far from there I bought me a huge salmon. The food would be my bait. Every scam needs bait.
Now it was time to get to work. It was real cold that day, and I was glad. The cold could be worked in my favor. I’d found an ideal intersection, one with stop signs instead of lights. The cars would have to stop; they couldn’t just zoom past me. There was a big parking lot on one corner. That was a necessity. I wanted lots of space for my suckers to park, get their cars well off the road. When the thought jerks through their head about pulling in to buy, I didn’t want them fretting about their car. Or rather, when he wants to park his car. Today I’m not scamming the general public. I’m looking for that one special loser.
What am I looking to rip off? Got to admit I don’t have a clue. When I see it I’ll know.
Actually, today is when I pay the public back a bit--.10 a pound for potatoes and onions. I leaned my spray painted signs against the truck so the passersby got a good gander.
Now for the waiting. It’s not so much like waiting for a fish to bite. It’s more like sitting in a blind waiting for the ducks to fly over. You do the prep work. Then you wait for fate or luck to take notice of you and figure a response to your actions.
I’d left room for a walk-way to the back of the truck. There was room for 2 beat up old couch cushions and a camp stove. It’s important to use cushions, not chairs. Get the guy low to the floor in the back of an old truck with you. Put a steaming pot of potatoes and onions in between you and him. That builds trust. A false sense of trust for him; the real thing for me.
I made a few sales; well I guess in thinking about it, it had been a fairly steady morning. As I chatted up about the world’s goings on and comings forth I looked hard in to their eyes. Hunger. That’s what I had to see. Hunger that the sucker thinks comes from not having eaten longer than he’d like. But that stomach hunger was just aggravating a big deeper down hunger. Put the stomach hunger together with the deeper hunger, and you’ve got a guy who could wake up the next morning wishing he’d been more cautious the day before.
Luck’s reaction to my trolling brought me the sucker right at the end of a run on onions. As I bagged the onions for the lady who had been at the lines end the Mercedes pulled in. It was one of those expensive silver painted numbers. Even before he got out of the car I realized he was my man. This guy didn’t need to save a few bucks on food. He was looking for another kind of bargain.
He walked up looking colder than he should, considering he’d just left the car.
“What have you got?”
“Just onions and potatoes, just the basics.”
“They any good?”
“I got some cooking in the back. Take a smell for your self.”
He climbed up my homemade stairs and walked right back. Like a rat walking into a one-way maze heading for the cheese.
“I’ll close the door a bit, keep out the wind.”
I closed the door almost shut. Close enough to being shut that passersby might think I was closed. But not slammed shut. I wanted to separate my sucker from the herd, not spook him.
“Smells good”, he mumbled, looking at the pot instead of me. That was okay.
“Can’t go wrong with potatoes and onions. Hard to screw up that.”
I sat on a cushion. As Luck had it he sat on the other one.
“You got a simple operation here. Hard for the tax man to keep up with you.”
So that’s what’s eating him: taxes. I can go there. Tell him what he needs to hear. And keep an ear reserved for figuring out what I’m taking from him.
“I wouldn’t know about that. I leave him alone, he leaves me alone. Neither of us has heard from the other in a long time.”
“They know where I live. They know every one of my phone numbers.”
“Oo, phones are a big mistake, at least having one just to your self.”
“You don’t have a phone?”
“Not for years. Having your own phone’s like a deer strapping a bell around his neck. He’s just begging for the hunters to shoot him.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Let me guess; you’ve got a TV, too, don’t you.”
“Well, yeah, of course.”
“Big mistake. That’s how the tax man gets you. TV tells you what to buy. You buy it, then you got to pay taxes on it.”
“That does smell good.”
Good, the food’s working, distracting him, making him think about short term instincts instead long term survival.
“Here dish up a bowl. Like I say, no phone, and they don’t know where you live. No TV, and they can’t flush you out.”
“Man, you got it figured out. I wish I had the guts to give up my luxury and live simple like you.”
“Oh, you got that wrong. I live plenty high on as many hogs as I want. I don’t pay taxes, remember.”
“Out of this place? You don’t look rich.”
“You’re right, I don’t look it, at least around here. I save my spending for when I’m on vacation. And I take trips a lot. It’s easier to hide from the taxman when you’re moving. A moving target is harder to hit than a sitting one.”
“Man, you got it figured out. How did you come up with this plan?”
“When you’re not being bothered by the phone and TV you’ve got time to think. It just comes to you.”
“I wish I had your guts.”
“All you got to do is just step out of the rat race. I’d be willing to help.”
“Really? That’s something to think about. I’d have to do a lot of planning ahead.”
“That’s not the way to show me you’ve got the stuff. You know those circus lion and tiger trainers?”
“Yeah.”
“The circus hires them by placing ads in the paper. What the ad doesn’t tell you is what you have to do for the audition.”
“And what’s that.”
“You have to step in to a cage full of wild cats, with nothing but your bare hands. No gun, no whip, no training, nothing, right then and there, with no second chance, right then and there, go in to the cage.”
“No way!”
“The one thing a successful cat trainer’s got to have is confidence. The circus handlers can’t teach you that, you bring that with you to the job.”
“Man, they’ve got guts.”
“It’s just being smart on the circus’ part. Now, how that applies to you and me? You want to be like me, living wild and free of the tax man?”
“You bet!”
“Then, right now, right here, you’ve got to make the commitment. No going home for a change of clothes. No telling you’re friends, no closing out your stock portfolio and bank account. You got to give it all up, never look back.”
“Pretty soon the tax men are going to take it all anyway. I can’t even go get some clothes?”
“You’ve got to be untraceable. When you left the house today you didn’t do anything out the usual. If you go back now, cart suitcases to the car, that’s going to draw attention. When the taxmen come asking for you, the neighbors are going to remember. You can’t give those tax buzzards the slightest inch, or they’ll find you.”
“Man. This is a big jump!”
“There’s a salmon in the cooler. Cook it tonight. Eating wild game purges TV and phone influences from your body. Eat the whole fish tonight. You’ll be a new man, a real man.”
“It’s all this simple?”
“Trust me.”
“You caught me at the right time. What have I got to loose. All right, I’m in. What now?”
That’s it; I know what I want from this sucker.
“You’re not going to regret this. It’s simple. I give you this truck and produce; you give me your car. I’ll give you the address for buying this stuff and what cash I’ve got. Then I drive away, and you’re on your own.”
“My car?”
“You can be traced through the car. I know how to get rid of it.”
“How am I going to figure out how to live?”
“Go a few days without a phone and TV, and it will all start coming naturally to you.”
He put his bowl on the floorboards, and stood up. Then he dug out his keys.
“Here, the cars yours.”
I took the keys, grabbed his hand and gave it a good double-handed shake. I gave him about $300 bucks.
“I feel like this is all going to work out,” he said.
I gave him the keys to the truck.
“Of course it will. You got the whole rest of the day to sell. Remember, don’t ever park where they make you pay rent.”
I had the keys loose in my hand. I didn’t pocket them. That might be too much, too final, and he’d back out. Fortunately, as I rolled the door back up 3 women walked to the truck’s rear, with that ‘looking to buy’ gleam in their eyes. He, I hadn’t gotten his name on purpose, went right to work.
I drove off slowly, didn’t want to rattle him. This had been a very good scam. I had probably helped that guy out of a big jam, and his life would be better. And I had pulled off a scam, looking the sucker right in the eye. A brand new Mercedes in exchange for all I’d spent put me way ahead. I know some Russians in Pennsylvania who are always looking to buy a Mercedes. I’m going to eat out big at a fancy joint tonight!
Yours in the faith,
David
Friday, December 4, 2009
Book Update
Hi folks!
Work on the con man novel is going well. I'm well into the 3rd draft, and am working with a number of established free lance editors....Skip
Work on the con man novel is going well. I'm well into the 3rd draft, and am working with a number of established free lance editors....Skip
Easy Money!!
Beerboy 1 Calling Beerboy Mothership--Come In Mothership!!
Dear Red Haired Alien Space Babe Disciples,
I thought you'd like to know how the Space Babes are helping me make, or should I say 'get' $40,000 a month tax free...I don't need $40,000 a month to live on. No, it's that I have several pet rats, and maintaining pet rats is quite an expensive enterprise. I wouldn't need $40,000 a month if it weren'tfor the close proximity of the Indian casinos It's those darn pet rats--they love to gamble. Okay, it's my fault, I'm the one that lets the rats out of their cage. But, who can blame me--the rats look up at me through the cage bars, with tears in their eyes, begging me to let them out. Then what happens?. Those darn rats take right off to the casino!!...I was getting really frsutrated with those darned casinos! I've told them to not let my rats gamble, but no one pays any attention to me--and guess who has to pay those rats debts? That's right--me
But, don't worry, thanks to the Space Babes, I figured out a solution! It turns out that some of the Indians have friends from Russia...These Russians are from Siberia. These Siberians (I've found they prefer'Siberian' to 'Russian')have an interesting credit card plan (I've never heard of any American credit card company offering this same plan). See,it's like this--you can draw $100,000 a month off the cards, and not have to pay any bit of it back! This sounded really great, but then I thought, wait a minute, is there a catch to this plan that I'm not realizing? That's when the Siberians told that yes, there was a catch to the credit card plan. See, I'd have to give the Siberians 60% of the $100,000! But, for that fee they would promise that no one would be able to track me down to ask for any money back. See, the Siberians would get the money directly from banks,and I'd have $40,000 a month in cash to spend. The Siberians promised they would give the $60,000 a month fee they charged me to poor orphaned pet rats. And,since the banks worldwide were being bailed out by national governments,then no body was out any actual money--and think how the orphaned rats were being helped!!!
So, I'm at a casino now, writing you during a lunch break. My rats are somewhere else right now. But the casino hostess are great friends with my rats, so I'll have no trouble tracking them down!
Dear Red Haired Alien Space Babe Disciples,
I thought you'd like to know how the Space Babes are helping me make, or should I say 'get' $40,000 a month tax free...I don't need $40,000 a month to live on. No, it's that I have several pet rats, and maintaining pet rats is quite an expensive enterprise. I wouldn't need $40,000 a month if it weren'tfor the close proximity of the Indian casinos It's those darn pet rats--they love to gamble. Okay, it's my fault, I'm the one that lets the rats out of their cage. But, who can blame me--the rats look up at me through the cage bars, with tears in their eyes, begging me to let them out. Then what happens?. Those darn rats take right off to the casino!!...I was getting really frsutrated with those darned casinos! I've told them to not let my rats gamble, but no one pays any attention to me--and guess who has to pay those rats debts? That's right--me
But, don't worry, thanks to the Space Babes, I figured out a solution! It turns out that some of the Indians have friends from Russia...These Russians are from Siberia. These Siberians (I've found they prefer'Siberian' to 'Russian')have an interesting credit card plan (I've never heard of any American credit card company offering this same plan). See,it's like this--you can draw $100,000 a month off the cards, and not have to pay any bit of it back! This sounded really great, but then I thought, wait a minute, is there a catch to this plan that I'm not realizing? That's when the Siberians told that yes, there was a catch to the credit card plan. See, I'd have to give the Siberians 60% of the $100,000! But, for that fee they would promise that no one would be able to track me down to ask for any money back. See, the Siberians would get the money directly from banks,and I'd have $40,000 a month in cash to spend. The Siberians promised they would give the $60,000 a month fee they charged me to poor orphaned pet rats. And,since the banks worldwide were being bailed out by national governments,then no body was out any actual money--and think how the orphaned rats were being helped!!!
So, I'm at a casino now, writing you during a lunch break. My rats are somewhere else right now. But the casino hostess are great friends with my rats, so I'll have no trouble tracking them down!
Friday, July 31, 2009
"50/50 Jimmy"
“50/50 Jimmy”
Me and my TV’s have been sitting here in the living room munching and drinking our way through 5 gigantic Sam’s Club uber-sized cans of tomato paste and 5 cases of IPA beer, both the St. Richard Nixon brand, while watching a tape of a bizarre Ukrainian TV commercial. No, your local Sam’s Club doesn’t carry St. Richard Nixon brand, not tomato paste, beer or any product. My friends, the red-haired Republican alien space babes, they dropped off the St. Richard Nixon tomato paste and beer. If it’s good enough for the space babes, it’s good enough for me. And the babes are the ones who turned me on to Ukrainian pirate, stealth internet TV: well, sort of the ones.
Actually, it was my landlords who introduced me to the channel, but the space babes were in the grocery store’s back room at the time, and they are the ones who explained the Ukrainian TV channel to me. Before we talk about the TV channel, though, I suppose I need to talk about my landlord.
Have I mentioned that I rent my house, not that I can’t afford to buy, but that I prefer to rent, incase things get hot and I need to move at a moments notice? Well, I do, and after one quick departure I ended up in the next town, met these 3 red-haired women who own an Eastern European grocery store—and had a house next door to rent. The women, a mother and 2 daughters, live in the upstairs part of the grocery store building.
These women are used to living ‘under the radar and off the books’ which helps me live ‘under the radar and off the books’ which has helped me stay at this location much longer than usual. In fact, the red-haired women tell me they can make sure I never have to move in the middle of the night again, out of fear for the FBI and such kinds of folks. How could they make such a promise? They knew the space babes, and got me in touch with them. They met the space babes one night at Trout Lake, Washington, where there are nightly UFO visits. Once I became friends with the space babes, well let’s say the FBI and their kind are no match for the space babes.
This brings us back to the TV channel and this strange commercial. The space babes just love the commercial, and gave me a tape of it. Here I’ll play it for you:
A voice over runs as the fancy European dressed male lawyer talks amusingly with two clients in his office. This is what the voice over said:
“Can you afford to eat out at a fancy restaurant every night? Neither could I until a lawyer, Bohdan “50/50 Jimmy” Cheburko, helped me. How did he do it?”
On the screen we now see Jimmy talking with a group of friendly looking old grandmothers. The women and Jimmy are laughing and having a good time. The voice-over continues.
“Jimmy can arrange to have one of his stable of ‘grandmothers’ sue you, and take everything you’ve got. Then Jimmy will split it with you “50/50”. That’s half for you, and half for Jimmy! That’s right—50/50! And your money problems will be over for ever!”
On the screen we now see only Jimmy. He is laughing and looking off toward one of the grandmothers. Then, he turns and looks directly into the camera.
“That’s right, let me “50/50 Jimmy” Cheburko, sue you for everything you’ve got and then I’ll split it with you “50/50”, and you’ll never have to worry about money ever again!”
On the screen we again see a wide shot of Jimmy and the grandmothers, still laughing. Jimmy’s phone number flashes on the screen. Then the commercial is over.
I know what you’re thinking—‘This is obviously a scam’. Before Jimmy sues you, you own 100% of what you own. After Jimmy gets done with you, well, you only own 50% of what you owned. The space babes, however, tell me they use Jimmy’s services after every shady business maneuver they pull off. And the space babes are very happy with Jimmy’s work.
I hear a knock on the door. I can tell by the knocking that it’s the red-haired women, both on-planet and off-planet women, and they are in a party mood. They’re going to come in, see the commercial and rave about Jimmy. I still think Jimmy is pulling a scam, but haven’t been able to convince the women. What do you think about Jimmy’s deal?
Me and my TV’s have been sitting here in the living room munching and drinking our way through 5 gigantic Sam’s Club uber-sized cans of tomato paste and 5 cases of IPA beer, both the St. Richard Nixon brand, while watching a tape of a bizarre Ukrainian TV commercial. No, your local Sam’s Club doesn’t carry St. Richard Nixon brand, not tomato paste, beer or any product. My friends, the red-haired Republican alien space babes, they dropped off the St. Richard Nixon tomato paste and beer. If it’s good enough for the space babes, it’s good enough for me. And the babes are the ones who turned me on to Ukrainian pirate, stealth internet TV: well, sort of the ones.
Actually, it was my landlords who introduced me to the channel, but the space babes were in the grocery store’s back room at the time, and they are the ones who explained the Ukrainian TV channel to me. Before we talk about the TV channel, though, I suppose I need to talk about my landlord.
Have I mentioned that I rent my house, not that I can’t afford to buy, but that I prefer to rent, incase things get hot and I need to move at a moments notice? Well, I do, and after one quick departure I ended up in the next town, met these 3 red-haired women who own an Eastern European grocery store—and had a house next door to rent. The women, a mother and 2 daughters, live in the upstairs part of the grocery store building.
These women are used to living ‘under the radar and off the books’ which helps me live ‘under the radar and off the books’ which has helped me stay at this location much longer than usual. In fact, the red-haired women tell me they can make sure I never have to move in the middle of the night again, out of fear for the FBI and such kinds of folks. How could they make such a promise? They knew the space babes, and got me in touch with them. They met the space babes one night at Trout Lake, Washington, where there are nightly UFO visits. Once I became friends with the space babes, well let’s say the FBI and their kind are no match for the space babes.
This brings us back to the TV channel and this strange commercial. The space babes just love the commercial, and gave me a tape of it. Here I’ll play it for you:
A voice over runs as the fancy European dressed male lawyer talks amusingly with two clients in his office. This is what the voice over said:
“Can you afford to eat out at a fancy restaurant every night? Neither could I until a lawyer, Bohdan “50/50 Jimmy” Cheburko, helped me. How did he do it?”
On the screen we now see Jimmy talking with a group of friendly looking old grandmothers. The women and Jimmy are laughing and having a good time. The voice-over continues.
“Jimmy can arrange to have one of his stable of ‘grandmothers’ sue you, and take everything you’ve got. Then Jimmy will split it with you “50/50”. That’s half for you, and half for Jimmy! That’s right—50/50! And your money problems will be over for ever!”
On the screen we now see only Jimmy. He is laughing and looking off toward one of the grandmothers. Then, he turns and looks directly into the camera.
“That’s right, let me “50/50 Jimmy” Cheburko, sue you for everything you’ve got and then I’ll split it with you “50/50”, and you’ll never have to worry about money ever again!”
On the screen we again see a wide shot of Jimmy and the grandmothers, still laughing. Jimmy’s phone number flashes on the screen. Then the commercial is over.
I know what you’re thinking—‘This is obviously a scam’. Before Jimmy sues you, you own 100% of what you own. After Jimmy gets done with you, well, you only own 50% of what you owned. The space babes, however, tell me they use Jimmy’s services after every shady business maneuver they pull off. And the space babes are very happy with Jimmy’s work.
I hear a knock on the door. I can tell by the knocking that it’s the red-haired women, both on-planet and off-planet women, and they are in a party mood. They’re going to come in, see the commercial and rave about Jimmy. I still think Jimmy is pulling a scam, but haven’t been able to convince the women. What do you think about Jimmy’s deal?
Friday, July 24, 2009
No TV Left Behind
BeerBoy1 Calling BeerBoy Mothership, Come In Mothership!!
No TV Left Behind
No, I’m not a TV hoarder! These rumors are just vicious slurs being thrown about by the anti-TV fringe crazies. Don’t want to just take my word? Well, the Television Services Division (TVSD), a branch of Children Services Division, has even stated so! TVSD came out to my house and looked at the way I take care of my many TV’s. The TVSD case workers cleared me of any wrong doing, and in fact said I take excellent care of my TV’s! Framed copies of the TVSD certifying documents are in every room of my house—that’s every room!
So, now that we’ve got that out of the way, let me tell you why this thing about me being a ‘TV hoarder’ has been known to come up. Scattered throughout my house are 57 TV’s. This is a 2-story place, with basement. Okay, I know that sounds like a lot of TV’s. But, with so many TV’s these days desperate for a home, what else could I do? Should I just let them be orphaned, stuck at Goodwill stores, or worse yet, hauled off to the trash heap and killed?
I know you’ve seen those TV commercials, the ones by that TV adoption placement agency No TV Left Behind. Most people see those commercials and don’t give another thought to the plight of TV’s in America now days. Sometimes I wish I was one of those cold hearted jerks. My life would be so much simpler. Then a TV near me at home blurts out a happy refrain, and pulls me out of my worries. And suddenly, there I am again, happy I’m not one of those cold hearted jerks. That’s when I’m glad I’ve got 57 TV’s.
Oh, no, it’s playing again--that No TV Left Behind commercial. I’ll shut up so we can watch and listen to it together. The TV’s scattered around my kitchen are all tuned to the same channel:
On the screens we see a long shot of a big US city junkyard. Seagulls fly overhead. The debris looks like what’s left over from a garage sale, or what you’d decide to throw away while getting ready to move.
The camera shot changes to a close view of the junk. In the middle of the screen is a 28 inch TV. It is an old style large box type, not a flat screen. To the right of the TV a rat is chewing on the TV’s power cord. A seagull sits on the top of the TV, and bird droppings mark the screen. To the left a seagull chews at an old copy of TV Guide. Near the screen center is the TV’s remote control. Two rats gnaw at the remote.
Then the camera pulls back a bit. A man wearing a hunting shirt and blue jeans walks over to the TV. Kneeling on one knee he puts his right hand on the TV and lovingly strokes the top of the box. The seagulls and rats ignored him and kept doing what they were doing. The man looks at the TV.
“Hi friends, this Matt again, for No TV Left Behind. This TV here rotting away in this hellhole used to be the beloved friend of a girl, Amy, who went to a college not far from this dump”.
He hugs the set with one arm, and turns his gaze into the camera.
“That afternoon at the college football stadium when Amy’s first boyfriend ever announced he was dumping her by having the news flashed over the scoreboard at halftime, and her drunk friends thought it was hilarious--who could she turn to? After Amy ran home to her apartment, locked the door, and pulled her phone cord out of the wall--it was this TV here, who stayed up all night with her, running the channels with her looking for sympathy”.
The man picked up the remote control. The rats clung to the remote, chewing the rubber buttons.
“And later that night after downing all that beer, pizza and ice cream, when Amy was too drunk to get off the couch, this TV still didn’t abandon her. From the cozy safety of the couches deep cushions, she used this remote—“
The man held up the remote, with the rats chewing the rubber buttons.
“—this remote, to channel surf. Amy’s despair was about to deepen, though. While surfing she discovered the 11 PM local news replaying a recording of her humiliating dumping that a ‘friend’ of Amy’s had recorded at the football stadium on a cell phone, and the local news anchor, who found the recording on You-Tube, had thought the tape so hilarious he had to play it over, and over, and over. Staring into the depths of the screen she realized she had only one true friend in the universe—this TV.”
“And then, while sitting on the couch, she used her lap top, went to You-Tube, and discovered that in the few hours the tape had been on You-Tube over 3 million people had viewed her humiliation. And finding that 87% of the viewers, people who had never met her, thought her now ex-first boyfriend ever had done the right thing—how did she deal with this mounting humiliation? She looked into her TV and found a friend who didn’t laugh at her.”
I looked around the kitchen, at the TV’s crowded in to every little nook and cranny. Tears came to my eyes as I thought about the times they had consoled me. Matt continued talking.
“What about in the morning, when Amy was awakened on the couch by a call on her cell phone from that Hollywood producer, who had seen the You-Tube tape, and wanted to buy the rights to her story? While listening to the producer’s sales pitch, Amy heard noise outside her apartment, near the street. Holding the phone she went over to the window, and pulled back a curtain. Outside were hundreds of people holding signs, all supporting her boyfriend dumping her. Amy looked at the faces and realized she didn’t know any of them, these hundreds of strangers who had decided to side with her now ex-first boyfriend ever.
“Amy realized she could never attend classes at that college ever again. She accepted the producer’s money offer, money that would give her a new life somewhere else, where she could get plastic surgery to hide her You-Tube famous face, and change her name.
“When the producers assistants showed up later that night, to whisk her away in a taxi, through the still large crowd outside her apartment, Amy could only take a few things with her—2 suitcases, the lap top—and this TV.
“Then what happened, after the plastic surgery, the name change, and transferring to another college? At the new school, a haven for New Agers, she fell in with a crowd of pot smoking, cigarette smoking, vegetarian intellectuals who told Amy that TV’s were a ‘bad influence’. Those intellectuals had thrown their TV’s in the garbage. Delighted to have human friends again Amy threw the TV, and this remote control, into the trash”.
The No TV Left Behind man stood and looked passionately into the camera, holding the remote control, still with the 2 rats chewing the rubber buttons.
“Now, this once beloved TV, more loyal than any now ex-first boyfriend ever could be, lies in this trash heap. But you can help—“
Oh, no, he’s talking to me, David, who already owns 57 TV’s.
“Yes, you, by sending just 27 cents a day to No TV Left Behind, can help us to give this dear TV a good home.”
The man held the remote control in front of him, and pushed it toward the camera.
“Or, you can be a greedy jerk, spend that money on another worthless fancy coffee, and leave this TV to be eaten by rats. It’s your choice.”
What could I do? I picked up the phone, and called No TV Left Behind. I asked the woman on the other end of the phone what was the name of the TV in the trash heap. She told me that out of loyalty for her former owner, the TV had asked to be named ‘Amy’. Would I be willing to donate 27 cents a day to keep ‘Amy’ out of the rain, and away from rats?
Right then I knew I could do better. I told the woman that I would adopt Amy’s abandoned TV outright. When the woman heard my offer she yelled to her coworkers about the good news, and I heard cheers coming from the other No TV Left Behind phone operators.
As the warmth of the phone operators love sank in to me I knew I’d done the right thing. ‘Amy’ was now my 58th TV!
No TV Left Behind
No, I’m not a TV hoarder! These rumors are just vicious slurs being thrown about by the anti-TV fringe crazies. Don’t want to just take my word? Well, the Television Services Division (TVSD), a branch of Children Services Division, has even stated so! TVSD came out to my house and looked at the way I take care of my many TV’s. The TVSD case workers cleared me of any wrong doing, and in fact said I take excellent care of my TV’s! Framed copies of the TVSD certifying documents are in every room of my house—that’s every room!
So, now that we’ve got that out of the way, let me tell you why this thing about me being a ‘TV hoarder’ has been known to come up. Scattered throughout my house are 57 TV’s. This is a 2-story place, with basement. Okay, I know that sounds like a lot of TV’s. But, with so many TV’s these days desperate for a home, what else could I do? Should I just let them be orphaned, stuck at Goodwill stores, or worse yet, hauled off to the trash heap and killed?
I know you’ve seen those TV commercials, the ones by that TV adoption placement agency No TV Left Behind. Most people see those commercials and don’t give another thought to the plight of TV’s in America now days. Sometimes I wish I was one of those cold hearted jerks. My life would be so much simpler. Then a TV near me at home blurts out a happy refrain, and pulls me out of my worries. And suddenly, there I am again, happy I’m not one of those cold hearted jerks. That’s when I’m glad I’ve got 57 TV’s.
Oh, no, it’s playing again--that No TV Left Behind commercial. I’ll shut up so we can watch and listen to it together. The TV’s scattered around my kitchen are all tuned to the same channel:
On the screens we see a long shot of a big US city junkyard. Seagulls fly overhead. The debris looks like what’s left over from a garage sale, or what you’d decide to throw away while getting ready to move.
The camera shot changes to a close view of the junk. In the middle of the screen is a 28 inch TV. It is an old style large box type, not a flat screen. To the right of the TV a rat is chewing on the TV’s power cord. A seagull sits on the top of the TV, and bird droppings mark the screen. To the left a seagull chews at an old copy of TV Guide. Near the screen center is the TV’s remote control. Two rats gnaw at the remote.
Then the camera pulls back a bit. A man wearing a hunting shirt and blue jeans walks over to the TV. Kneeling on one knee he puts his right hand on the TV and lovingly strokes the top of the box. The seagulls and rats ignored him and kept doing what they were doing. The man looks at the TV.
“Hi friends, this Matt again, for No TV Left Behind. This TV here rotting away in this hellhole used to be the beloved friend of a girl, Amy, who went to a college not far from this dump”.
He hugs the set with one arm, and turns his gaze into the camera.
“That afternoon at the college football stadium when Amy’s first boyfriend ever announced he was dumping her by having the news flashed over the scoreboard at halftime, and her drunk friends thought it was hilarious--who could she turn to? After Amy ran home to her apartment, locked the door, and pulled her phone cord out of the wall--it was this TV here, who stayed up all night with her, running the channels with her looking for sympathy”.
The man picked up the remote control. The rats clung to the remote, chewing the rubber buttons.
“And later that night after downing all that beer, pizza and ice cream, when Amy was too drunk to get off the couch, this TV still didn’t abandon her. From the cozy safety of the couches deep cushions, she used this remote—“
The man held up the remote, with the rats chewing the rubber buttons.
“—this remote, to channel surf. Amy’s despair was about to deepen, though. While surfing she discovered the 11 PM local news replaying a recording of her humiliating dumping that a ‘friend’ of Amy’s had recorded at the football stadium on a cell phone, and the local news anchor, who found the recording on You-Tube, had thought the tape so hilarious he had to play it over, and over, and over. Staring into the depths of the screen she realized she had only one true friend in the universe—this TV.”
“And then, while sitting on the couch, she used her lap top, went to You-Tube, and discovered that in the few hours the tape had been on You-Tube over 3 million people had viewed her humiliation. And finding that 87% of the viewers, people who had never met her, thought her now ex-first boyfriend ever had done the right thing—how did she deal with this mounting humiliation? She looked into her TV and found a friend who didn’t laugh at her.”
I looked around the kitchen, at the TV’s crowded in to every little nook and cranny. Tears came to my eyes as I thought about the times they had consoled me. Matt continued talking.
“What about in the morning, when Amy was awakened on the couch by a call on her cell phone from that Hollywood producer, who had seen the You-Tube tape, and wanted to buy the rights to her story? While listening to the producer’s sales pitch, Amy heard noise outside her apartment, near the street. Holding the phone she went over to the window, and pulled back a curtain. Outside were hundreds of people holding signs, all supporting her boyfriend dumping her. Amy looked at the faces and realized she didn’t know any of them, these hundreds of strangers who had decided to side with her now ex-first boyfriend ever.
“Amy realized she could never attend classes at that college ever again. She accepted the producer’s money offer, money that would give her a new life somewhere else, where she could get plastic surgery to hide her You-Tube famous face, and change her name.
“When the producers assistants showed up later that night, to whisk her away in a taxi, through the still large crowd outside her apartment, Amy could only take a few things with her—2 suitcases, the lap top—and this TV.
“Then what happened, after the plastic surgery, the name change, and transferring to another college? At the new school, a haven for New Agers, she fell in with a crowd of pot smoking, cigarette smoking, vegetarian intellectuals who told Amy that TV’s were a ‘bad influence’. Those intellectuals had thrown their TV’s in the garbage. Delighted to have human friends again Amy threw the TV, and this remote control, into the trash”.
The No TV Left Behind man stood and looked passionately into the camera, holding the remote control, still with the 2 rats chewing the rubber buttons.
“Now, this once beloved TV, more loyal than any now ex-first boyfriend ever could be, lies in this trash heap. But you can help—“
Oh, no, he’s talking to me, David, who already owns 57 TV’s.
“Yes, you, by sending just 27 cents a day to No TV Left Behind, can help us to give this dear TV a good home.”
The man held the remote control in front of him, and pushed it toward the camera.
“Or, you can be a greedy jerk, spend that money on another worthless fancy coffee, and leave this TV to be eaten by rats. It’s your choice.”
What could I do? I picked up the phone, and called No TV Left Behind. I asked the woman on the other end of the phone what was the name of the TV in the trash heap. She told me that out of loyalty for her former owner, the TV had asked to be named ‘Amy’. Would I be willing to donate 27 cents a day to keep ‘Amy’ out of the rain, and away from rats?
Right then I knew I could do better. I told the woman that I would adopt Amy’s abandoned TV outright. When the woman heard my offer she yelled to her coworkers about the good news, and I heard cheers coming from the other No TV Left Behind phone operators.
As the warmth of the phone operators love sank in to me I knew I’d done the right thing. ‘Amy’ was now my 58th TV!
Thursday, July 16, 2009
No More Shark Alerts!
!!Beerboy1 Calling BeerboyMothership, Come In Mothership!!
No More Shark Alerts!
“California is sinking into the ocean!”---I know you beergirls and beerboys out there have heard that dire prediction over the years. This prediction of calamity had been coming from earthquake prophets—until the last few years. Then these predictions became metaphorical, with predictions that ‘financially’ California would ‘fall into the ocean’ and be lost forever. Guess what, though? It looks like the ocean will actually save California from ‘financially falling into the ocean’.
The solution? Well, it has to do with protecting an endangered species—in exchange for 5-6 billion a year in new tax revenues! The deal came about through wheeling and dealing by politicians.
You want the details, do you? Well, the details might be alarming to some folks, so first lets do some more background discussion, before we flesh out this endangered species debate here.
So, let’s get back to the fact this political deal making will bring in absolutely billions and billions of dollars (that’s US dollars) to the California economy. This means that California will not have to decide between fiscal responsibility and axing aid to the California Democrat party’s long list of welfare recipients. As an example, it means that San Francisco can be allowed to remain part of California, and not have to physically be cut free and cast adrift like an iceberg, to fend financially for itself.
And, okay, this might mean that we conservatives will have to give a little. Give a little on something that would normally make us cringe. That’s why I’ve been building up gently to the specifics on this deal making.
And this deal was conceived by Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger, a geniune Republican.
The main problem Arnold and California have had in trying to reach a balanced budget was trying to keep the environmental fringe, the eco-wackos, happy. There were plenty of ways to balance the budget if the eco-wackos would just play ball. A prime example of this was increasing oil production off the California coast. The eco-wackos had fought savagely to stop this. And what a shame, because the extra tax monies from this oil production increase could pay for all of California’s naughty financial excesses. Was there a way out of this predicament?
So, okay, dear reader, you keep wanting ‘details’about this endangered species stuff, please be patient—first I want to describe the benefits from Arnold’s brainstorm, that led to this deal that has saved California. What is it that Arnold cooked up to convince the eco-wackos it would be okay to let off shore oil drilling go on off California?
Well, here’s what. What Arnold came up with will give complete ‘cradle to grave’ care for all aliens in California, both aliens born on Earth and off-planet. The off-planet inclusion is important, because how else can the insanity of San Francisco be explained except as having originated in another time-galaxy?
Okay, I just heard a complaint about my calling Arnold a ‘genuine Republican’. Look, folks, do you really think a man as sharp as Arnold didn’t understand how crazy Maria Shriver was? Did he really not understand how crazy a woman she was, as demonstrated during her fawning interview of Siegfried and Roy? Of course not—Arnold married her because of how crazy she was. He wanted to live in close proximity to such a crazy lefty, to learn how they really think.
And this is what Arnold dreamed up, one night not long ago, after his eco-wacko wife had gone to bed, and Arnold was left with his cigars and brandy. Let me give you a hint about what Arnold thought up while staring at that cigar smoke:
“All of Northern California will be converted into a sanctuary for endangered strains of cannabis, and San Francisco high class culinary chefs. Disney will take over the day-to-day operations of Northern California.”
This wasn’t the end, however. As Arnold sat in his den, the cigar smoke dissipating from fully formed clouds into haze, the rest of his plan mentally materialized.
“Mt. Shasta would be declared a sanctuary for that highly endangered bird, the NBC Peacock. Pixar would be given the job of maintaining this sanctuary.”
Arnold knew all this, however, wasn’t quite enough to satisfy the eco-wackos. He crept up to the bedroom, and watched Maria as she slept. What else would make her kind happy, Arnold wondered? He blew cigar smoke over her face, and watched her nose twitch. Then it struck him, yes, he had the answer, but, boy would it make his fellow extreme right wing Republicans mad!
What was this issue? Okay, now I’ll discuss it. It’s this final issue that I knew you conservatives would find most objectionable---Shark alerts along the California coast will be banned!
That’s right, as of yesterday when Arnold signed into law the Oil Money For Sharks And All The Other Stuff The Eco-Wackos Want bill, there will no longer be any shark alerts for California coastal communities. Why?
It turns out that a major food supply for the endangered sharks are human swimmers and surfers. When the news media warn people of sharks in a coastal area this was keeping people out of the ocean. And keeping people out of the ocean was keeping food out of the water--food for sharks.
As Arnold has discovered from hanging out at eco-wacko parties thrown by his wife’s friends, this Food For Sharks issue was so important to the eco-wackos that if the shark alerts were stopped, the eco-wackos would stop their opposition to more off-shore oil drilling.
So, now that the Oil Money For Sharks And All The Other Stuff The Eco-Wackos Want bill has been signed, and off-shore oil drilling can boom unchecked, California is financially solvent! But, is everyone happy? NO! Those right wing nuts, Ann Coulter and Rush Limbaugh, immediately jumped in and opened their big mouths! “No more shark alerts!?!”, blurted out Coulter and Limbaugh, today through their various media outlets, “What do you mean no more shark alerts?”
So, will Coulter and Limbaugh screw up this solution to all of California’s money troubles? We, here at this blog hope not. But, we’ll have to wait and see!
No More Shark Alerts!
“California is sinking into the ocean!”---I know you beergirls and beerboys out there have heard that dire prediction over the years. This prediction of calamity had been coming from earthquake prophets—until the last few years. Then these predictions became metaphorical, with predictions that ‘financially’ California would ‘fall into the ocean’ and be lost forever. Guess what, though? It looks like the ocean will actually save California from ‘financially falling into the ocean’.
The solution? Well, it has to do with protecting an endangered species—in exchange for 5-6 billion a year in new tax revenues! The deal came about through wheeling and dealing by politicians.
You want the details, do you? Well, the details might be alarming to some folks, so first lets do some more background discussion, before we flesh out this endangered species debate here.
So, let’s get back to the fact this political deal making will bring in absolutely billions and billions of dollars (that’s US dollars) to the California economy. This means that California will not have to decide between fiscal responsibility and axing aid to the California Democrat party’s long list of welfare recipients. As an example, it means that San Francisco can be allowed to remain part of California, and not have to physically be cut free and cast adrift like an iceberg, to fend financially for itself.
And, okay, this might mean that we conservatives will have to give a little. Give a little on something that would normally make us cringe. That’s why I’ve been building up gently to the specifics on this deal making.
And this deal was conceived by Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger, a geniune Republican.
The main problem Arnold and California have had in trying to reach a balanced budget was trying to keep the environmental fringe, the eco-wackos, happy. There were plenty of ways to balance the budget if the eco-wackos would just play ball. A prime example of this was increasing oil production off the California coast. The eco-wackos had fought savagely to stop this. And what a shame, because the extra tax monies from this oil production increase could pay for all of California’s naughty financial excesses. Was there a way out of this predicament?
So, okay, dear reader, you keep wanting ‘details’about this endangered species stuff, please be patient—first I want to describe the benefits from Arnold’s brainstorm, that led to this deal that has saved California. What is it that Arnold cooked up to convince the eco-wackos it would be okay to let off shore oil drilling go on off California?
Well, here’s what. What Arnold came up with will give complete ‘cradle to grave’ care for all aliens in California, both aliens born on Earth and off-planet. The off-planet inclusion is important, because how else can the insanity of San Francisco be explained except as having originated in another time-galaxy?
Okay, I just heard a complaint about my calling Arnold a ‘genuine Republican’. Look, folks, do you really think a man as sharp as Arnold didn’t understand how crazy Maria Shriver was? Did he really not understand how crazy a woman she was, as demonstrated during her fawning interview of Siegfried and Roy? Of course not—Arnold married her because of how crazy she was. He wanted to live in close proximity to such a crazy lefty, to learn how they really think.
And this is what Arnold dreamed up, one night not long ago, after his eco-wacko wife had gone to bed, and Arnold was left with his cigars and brandy. Let me give you a hint about what Arnold thought up while staring at that cigar smoke:
“All of Northern California will be converted into a sanctuary for endangered strains of cannabis, and San Francisco high class culinary chefs. Disney will take over the day-to-day operations of Northern California.”
This wasn’t the end, however. As Arnold sat in his den, the cigar smoke dissipating from fully formed clouds into haze, the rest of his plan mentally materialized.
“Mt. Shasta would be declared a sanctuary for that highly endangered bird, the NBC Peacock. Pixar would be given the job of maintaining this sanctuary.”
Arnold knew all this, however, wasn’t quite enough to satisfy the eco-wackos. He crept up to the bedroom, and watched Maria as she slept. What else would make her kind happy, Arnold wondered? He blew cigar smoke over her face, and watched her nose twitch. Then it struck him, yes, he had the answer, but, boy would it make his fellow extreme right wing Republicans mad!
What was this issue? Okay, now I’ll discuss it. It’s this final issue that I knew you conservatives would find most objectionable---Shark alerts along the California coast will be banned!
That’s right, as of yesterday when Arnold signed into law the Oil Money For Sharks And All The Other Stuff The Eco-Wackos Want bill, there will no longer be any shark alerts for California coastal communities. Why?
It turns out that a major food supply for the endangered sharks are human swimmers and surfers. When the news media warn people of sharks in a coastal area this was keeping people out of the ocean. And keeping people out of the ocean was keeping food out of the water--food for sharks.
As Arnold has discovered from hanging out at eco-wacko parties thrown by his wife’s friends, this Food For Sharks issue was so important to the eco-wackos that if the shark alerts were stopped, the eco-wackos would stop their opposition to more off-shore oil drilling.
So, now that the Oil Money For Sharks And All The Other Stuff The Eco-Wackos Want bill has been signed, and off-shore oil drilling can boom unchecked, California is financially solvent! But, is everyone happy? NO! Those right wing nuts, Ann Coulter and Rush Limbaugh, immediately jumped in and opened their big mouths! “No more shark alerts!?!”, blurted out Coulter and Limbaugh, today through their various media outlets, “What do you mean no more shark alerts?”
So, will Coulter and Limbaugh screw up this solution to all of California’s money troubles? We, here at this blog hope not. But, we’ll have to wait and see!
Friday, July 10, 2009
Hollywood Aliens
Beerboy1 Calling BeerboyMothership, Come In Mothership!!
Greetings Earthlings!! I’m up on the spaceship again, being ‘abducted’ by the friendly red-haired Republican alien women! The space babes picked me up on their way home to their underground base under Mt. St. Helens. They had been down in Hollywood, called to an emergency Association of Motion Pictures meeting.
One of the onboard kegs just went dry. So, while the space babes are loading another keg, I’ve got time to post. I’m using one of their computers, so I can transmit to Earth.
Yes, the space aliens have been part of the Hollywood community since the mid 1950’s. This came about after signing a contract for use of alien identities and properties with the Association of Motion Pictures—it turns out the aliens have lawyers, too.
After the well publicized Mt. Rainer and Roswell incidents Hollywood went nuts over the UFO thing making all those low budget movies. Well, even in outer space there are lawyers, lawyers with too much time on their hands, and expensive households to keep up.
Your average everyday Joe-Sixpack alien thought the ‘Things from Outer Space’ movies were great, and never thought how they could make money off them. But, those lawyers—no way!
So, the lawyers approached the United Nations and, guess what, they found out the UN had crooked lawyers, too! So the crooked UN lawyers and the crooked alien lawyers hatched a plan. They got the aliens classified as a non-voting, off-world ethnic block. Then the aliens approached the Hollywood elites, this was during the McCarthy Communist-Under-Every-Hollywood-Rock Scare. The aliens offered to derail McCarthy in exchange for getting a royalty from every movie using an alien theme. Ever wonder why McCarthy’s attack fell apart so fast and hard? It was because of alien sabotage!
You know how every Alaskan citizen gets money from the oil government? Well, that’s how it works for aliens, but it’s with money coming from the movies. As part of the contract aliens have to limit their contact with Earthlings. Hollywood wants to control the exposure Earth gets to aliens.
And that brings us back to why the space babes were in Hollywood before they picked me up. They had been asked to come down and vote on a proposed Obama plan. After the major disappointment of the new Johnny Depp movie, Public Enemies, the Obama people figured out they had to bailout out the movie industry. As part of the bailout it was suggested that every movie script had to be approved by Pixar. Pixar never makes a movie with an underdeveloped storyline. So, now, even directors like Michael Mann and Woody Allen will have to get their scripts approved by Pixar before they can get funding. Actually Woody Allen has been using alien script consultants for years.
The space babes just got the new keg going, so I’m going to have to stop. See you later!
Greetings Earthlings!! I’m up on the spaceship again, being ‘abducted’ by the friendly red-haired Republican alien women! The space babes picked me up on their way home to their underground base under Mt. St. Helens. They had been down in Hollywood, called to an emergency Association of Motion Pictures meeting.
One of the onboard kegs just went dry. So, while the space babes are loading another keg, I’ve got time to post. I’m using one of their computers, so I can transmit to Earth.
Yes, the space aliens have been part of the Hollywood community since the mid 1950’s. This came about after signing a contract for use of alien identities and properties with the Association of Motion Pictures—it turns out the aliens have lawyers, too.
After the well publicized Mt. Rainer and Roswell incidents Hollywood went nuts over the UFO thing making all those low budget movies. Well, even in outer space there are lawyers, lawyers with too much time on their hands, and expensive households to keep up.
Your average everyday Joe-Sixpack alien thought the ‘Things from Outer Space’ movies were great, and never thought how they could make money off them. But, those lawyers—no way!
So, the lawyers approached the United Nations and, guess what, they found out the UN had crooked lawyers, too! So the crooked UN lawyers and the crooked alien lawyers hatched a plan. They got the aliens classified as a non-voting, off-world ethnic block. Then the aliens approached the Hollywood elites, this was during the McCarthy Communist-Under-Every-Hollywood-Rock Scare. The aliens offered to derail McCarthy in exchange for getting a royalty from every movie using an alien theme. Ever wonder why McCarthy’s attack fell apart so fast and hard? It was because of alien sabotage!
You know how every Alaskan citizen gets money from the oil government? Well, that’s how it works for aliens, but it’s with money coming from the movies. As part of the contract aliens have to limit their contact with Earthlings. Hollywood wants to control the exposure Earth gets to aliens.
And that brings us back to why the space babes were in Hollywood before they picked me up. They had been asked to come down and vote on a proposed Obama plan. After the major disappointment of the new Johnny Depp movie, Public Enemies, the Obama people figured out they had to bailout out the movie industry. As part of the bailout it was suggested that every movie script had to be approved by Pixar. Pixar never makes a movie with an underdeveloped storyline. So, now, even directors like Michael Mann and Woody Allen will have to get their scripts approved by Pixar before they can get funding. Actually Woody Allen has been using alien script consultants for years.
The space babes just got the new keg going, so I’m going to have to stop. See you later!
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Alien Beer Bar
!!Beerboy1 Calling BeerboyMothership, Come in Mothership!!
Excuse me for the break in blog postings—I was accidently abducted by aliens!....Well, okay, maybe the abduction can’t really be called an accident. I guess that anyone who visits Troutlake, Washington to view their nightly UFO light shows can’t be surprised if they get abducted, can’t claim abduction was an ‘accident’.
It’s just that I thought I had the abduction/ not being able to post thing figured out. You see, my lap top has a wireless connection, so I thought that even on a spaceship that I’d be able to connect to my website and make a posting. That didn’t work out! Turns out that once you get several hundred miles off-planet that the ‘bars’ on your wireless connection disappear!
So, I’m back, and I suppose now you want details about my time being abducted and off with the aliens. Well, I hate to disappoint you all, but I don’t remember much. No, it’s not that the aliens used some super-hi tech stuff to erase my memory. Actually it has to do with the quite well stocked bar the aliens had on their ship.
Did I say bar? I should have said beer bar. It turns out that it is no accident that most UFO sightings in the USA are over the NW part. That includes the first major UFO sighting in the modern USA—that isn’t Roswell, but in Washington state, near Mt. Rainer. That incident birthed the term ‘flying saucer’. And what drew the ‘flying saucers’ to the Pacific NW? It turns out it was the local beer!
I do remember when I first landed on the UFO. On the landing dock was a giant glowing blue light. A loud speaker beneath the blue light announced that the mid-afternoon blue light special in the bar had begun.
There was no one in sight at the landing, just me and my lap top. I could, however, hear lots of humanoid noise and party sounds coming from down the hall. I made way toward the noises, and found the shipboard beer bar. The aliens were just getting finished stocking with local NW beer they had teleported onboard.
The alien bouncer at the door asked me, “Earthling, are you a registered Democrat or Republican?” Upon hearing a human was in their midst, all the other aliens turned their attention to me. I could see that some of the aliens had quietly moved their hands to the handles of their death rays. I sensed this was a sensitive moment in my life. How should I answer? I looked around for clues.
I got my answer by looking over the bar counter. Behind the bar were pics of 3 famous Earth politicians: Stalin, Jimmy Carter and Richard Nixon. The pics of Stalin and Carter were grouped together engulfed in a circle. The heading over the Stalin-Carter pic said ‘Welcome to Georgia’s 2 most famous politicians—Stalin and Jimmy Carter!’ Apparently Stalin and Carter had both been on this ship before me. But, were they both from Georgia? Then I remembered, oh yeah, Stalin had been born in that country the Soviets took over, that country called ‘Georgia’. Apparently the aliens had gotten the old Soviet bloc country and the USA southern state confused.
Anyway I noticed that this Stalin-Carter pic group had been turned into a dart board. And the Nixon pic? The alien artists had surrounded the pic with old Catholic religious art. So, I took a chance and guessed the aliens on this ship leaned toward the Republicans, and answered “Republican!”, flashing my best Richard Nixon ‘V’ for victory sign.
And that’s where my memory gets fuzzy. The aliens all responded by flashing me back with ‘V’ for victory signs, and the free micro brew pitchers started materializing before me. I vaguely remember having a really good time, and being told not worry about driving home, because the aliens would transport me and my car back to my place.
The friendliest of the aliens were the ones with red hair. The red haired ones turned out to be female. It turns out that Gillian Anderson of the X-Files is worshipped and adored by all alien women. In honor of Gillian the alien women all dye their hair red. I learned that off-world sales of X-Files DVD’s are far greater than the on-world sales.
Anyway, the Republican, red-haired alien women have invited me to a party next week. I don’t know when or where. The space babes said they’d abduct me once the party was all planned. I’ll try my best to stay somewhat sober and give more details about the alien ship other than the bar. Stay tuned!!
Excuse me for the break in blog postings—I was accidently abducted by aliens!....Well, okay, maybe the abduction can’t really be called an accident. I guess that anyone who visits Troutlake, Washington to view their nightly UFO light shows can’t be surprised if they get abducted, can’t claim abduction was an ‘accident’.
It’s just that I thought I had the abduction/ not being able to post thing figured out. You see, my lap top has a wireless connection, so I thought that even on a spaceship that I’d be able to connect to my website and make a posting. That didn’t work out! Turns out that once you get several hundred miles off-planet that the ‘bars’ on your wireless connection disappear!
So, I’m back, and I suppose now you want details about my time being abducted and off with the aliens. Well, I hate to disappoint you all, but I don’t remember much. No, it’s not that the aliens used some super-hi tech stuff to erase my memory. Actually it has to do with the quite well stocked bar the aliens had on their ship.
Did I say bar? I should have said beer bar. It turns out that it is no accident that most UFO sightings in the USA are over the NW part. That includes the first major UFO sighting in the modern USA—that isn’t Roswell, but in Washington state, near Mt. Rainer. That incident birthed the term ‘flying saucer’. And what drew the ‘flying saucers’ to the Pacific NW? It turns out it was the local beer!
I do remember when I first landed on the UFO. On the landing dock was a giant glowing blue light. A loud speaker beneath the blue light announced that the mid-afternoon blue light special in the bar had begun.
There was no one in sight at the landing, just me and my lap top. I could, however, hear lots of humanoid noise and party sounds coming from down the hall. I made way toward the noises, and found the shipboard beer bar. The aliens were just getting finished stocking with local NW beer they had teleported onboard.
The alien bouncer at the door asked me, “Earthling, are you a registered Democrat or Republican?” Upon hearing a human was in their midst, all the other aliens turned their attention to me. I could see that some of the aliens had quietly moved their hands to the handles of their death rays. I sensed this was a sensitive moment in my life. How should I answer? I looked around for clues.
I got my answer by looking over the bar counter. Behind the bar were pics of 3 famous Earth politicians: Stalin, Jimmy Carter and Richard Nixon. The pics of Stalin and Carter were grouped together engulfed in a circle. The heading over the Stalin-Carter pic said ‘Welcome to Georgia’s 2 most famous politicians—Stalin and Jimmy Carter!’ Apparently Stalin and Carter had both been on this ship before me. But, were they both from Georgia? Then I remembered, oh yeah, Stalin had been born in that country the Soviets took over, that country called ‘Georgia’. Apparently the aliens had gotten the old Soviet bloc country and the USA southern state confused.
Anyway I noticed that this Stalin-Carter pic group had been turned into a dart board. And the Nixon pic? The alien artists had surrounded the pic with old Catholic religious art. So, I took a chance and guessed the aliens on this ship leaned toward the Republicans, and answered “Republican!”, flashing my best Richard Nixon ‘V’ for victory sign.
And that’s where my memory gets fuzzy. The aliens all responded by flashing me back with ‘V’ for victory signs, and the free micro brew pitchers started materializing before me. I vaguely remember having a really good time, and being told not worry about driving home, because the aliens would transport me and my car back to my place.
The friendliest of the aliens were the ones with red hair. The red haired ones turned out to be female. It turns out that Gillian Anderson of the X-Files is worshipped and adored by all alien women. In honor of Gillian the alien women all dye their hair red. I learned that off-world sales of X-Files DVD’s are far greater than the on-world sales.
Anyway, the Republican, red-haired alien women have invited me to a party next week. I don’t know when or where. The space babes said they’d abduct me once the party was all planned. I’ll try my best to stay somewhat sober and give more details about the alien ship other than the bar. Stay tuned!!
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Mike Ironne and the Free Beer
!!Beerboy1 Calling BeerboyMothership, Come In Mothership!!
“Mike Irone and the Free Beer”
Let me tell you about a friend of David the con man’s—Mike Irone. Ever have that dream where you’re out in public and suddenly realize you’re naked? Many people find that a scary dream. Mike Irone, David’s friend? Mike doesn’t find the naked dream scary because 2 or 3 times a week when he’s awake and out in public it happens to him—he suddenly realizes he’s naked! This usually happens after spending considerable time in a pub. So what dream does scare Mike? That would be the dream “Mike Irone and the Free Beer”.
The dream always starts like this. Mike is home alone. The temperature is over 100. He is sitting on his couch, staring at the empty beer bottle on the coffee table. That was his last beer. He feels okay right then, but knows that in 10 minutes the beer lust will be biting again. What to do?
Suddenly the doorbell rings. Mike opens the door, and a cute young naked blonde stands there, smiling at him. Mike immediately notices that behind her are (quick count) 12 cases of Deschutes Mirror Pond Pale Ale.
The naked blonde points to the beer, while still smiling, and says that she is with the Obama campaign, an ACORN volunteer wanting to know if Mike is registered to vote. If Mike can answer one question, all the beer (that’s ALL the beer) is his for free, thanks of Obama. What’s the question-- how many boobs does she have?
This is where the dream gets scary for Mike. The blonde has to repeat the question. Mike has been fixated on the cases of beer ever since he heard the words “Free Beer”. When he heard the words ‘Free Beer” he instantly understood why he had been born, he understood his purpose in life, he understood why he woke up that morning: he must figure out how many boobs the blonde has, and get the free beer.
So, Mike gives the naked blonde ACORN volunteer another quick look. How many boobs does she have--it would seem at first to be an easy answer: two. There’s one boob on his left with “Oba” written on it. Then on the other side of her chest there’s this other boob with “ma” written on it. That’s one boob named “Oba”, and one boob named “ma”. Mike quickly thought back to grade school: 1+1=2. Could the answer be that simple? Was he being tricked? There was only one way to find out. Mike looked the blonde square in the eyes and said “Two”. The blonde excitedly jumped up and down shaking her two boobs. Yes, Mike had answered correctly! The beer was his!
As the blonde walked down the sidewalk to the next house Mike excitedly carried the cases inside. Should he take each case first in to the living room, or all the way into the kitchen? No, the beer must be taken quickly into the living room, then when all the beer is SAFELY inside with the door closed and locked, and then he can move the cases at his leisure into the kitchen. He must first get them inside before the neighbor kids steal them off the porch.
With the cases all safely in the living room (and the front door locked) Mike did a quick check of the house, making sure all the doors and windows are locked, and that the neighbor kids are not hiding any where in the house. The neighborhood kids have, unfortunately, discovered that Mike keeps beer in his house. More than once Mike’s seen kids running down the street carrying his beer! So, now, with the house secured Mike can now sit down and enjoy his first free beer courtesy of Obama!
This is where the dream starts to get real scary. Mike goes to the drawer where he keeps his beer bottle openers, he opens the drawer, and it’s empty!! Mike looks at the label on the outside of the drawer: “Beer Bottle Openers”. Yes, he has the right drawer, but there are no openers!! Within 5 minutes Mike has ransacked the house, but cannot find any openers!
Mike starts to get that feeling, that feeling that life is scary, mean and empty. Then he starts to feel panic creeping in. Mike fights off the panic and forces himself to find an answer. Yes, that’s it: the convenience store 7 blocks away! He can buy an opener there!
Standing on the front porch Mike carefully locks the door, making very sure that it is locked. Then he warily looks around, to see if there is any sign of the neighbor kids. He doesn’t see them.
Running down the street Mike passed the blonde, standing on another porch. She was smiling and pointing at 12 cases of beer while a man standing in the open doorway stared at her boobs, while counting on his fingers. Mike waved at her and kept running.
Breathlessly he entered the store, and there, right on a rack by the cash register, are openers! Mike reached for his wallet to pay and---wait, his wallet wasn’t there. He had left his wallet at home! He can picture right where it is, on the kitchen table!
Again Mike ran down the sidewalk, this time toward his home. He unlocked the door, and rushed into the kitchen. “Hi, Mike!” It’s the two neighbor kids, Joe and Bill!
“Wow, great beer, Mike”, says Bill. “Yeah”, said Joe. And to Mike’s surprise they each hold in their right hand an open beer! There are also 14 empty beer bottles on the table, Deschutes Mirror Pond Pale Ale empties. They had snuck in like they usually do when Mike was gone, to drink his beer, but today he didn’t mind, because they had brought a bottle opener! “Quick,” said Mike picking up an unopened beer, “let me use your opener.”
Joe looked Mike in the eyes and said, “Not ever in a million years, go get your own opener”. Then Bill looked at Mike and said, “Yeah, me too”.
Mike was horrified. What should he do? If he stayed home he could prevent Joe and Bill from drinking anymore of his free Obama beer, but he can’t drink any. If he leaves to get an opener, Joe and Bill would have all the beer drunk before he got home. What could Mike do?
Don’t worry, this nightmare of a dream has a happy ending. Every time Mike has this dream he wakes up right at this point. And he finds himself alone in his house, in the living room, with 12 full cases of microbrew beer and a bottle opener. How, and why? Mike has never bothered to try and figure that out. Some things are better left alone.
“Mike Irone and the Free Beer”
Let me tell you about a friend of David the con man’s—Mike Irone. Ever have that dream where you’re out in public and suddenly realize you’re naked? Many people find that a scary dream. Mike Irone, David’s friend? Mike doesn’t find the naked dream scary because 2 or 3 times a week when he’s awake and out in public it happens to him—he suddenly realizes he’s naked! This usually happens after spending considerable time in a pub. So what dream does scare Mike? That would be the dream “Mike Irone and the Free Beer”.
The dream always starts like this. Mike is home alone. The temperature is over 100. He is sitting on his couch, staring at the empty beer bottle on the coffee table. That was his last beer. He feels okay right then, but knows that in 10 minutes the beer lust will be biting again. What to do?
Suddenly the doorbell rings. Mike opens the door, and a cute young naked blonde stands there, smiling at him. Mike immediately notices that behind her are (quick count) 12 cases of Deschutes Mirror Pond Pale Ale.
The naked blonde points to the beer, while still smiling, and says that she is with the Obama campaign, an ACORN volunteer wanting to know if Mike is registered to vote. If Mike can answer one question, all the beer (that’s ALL the beer) is his for free, thanks of Obama. What’s the question-- how many boobs does she have?
This is where the dream gets scary for Mike. The blonde has to repeat the question. Mike has been fixated on the cases of beer ever since he heard the words “Free Beer”. When he heard the words ‘Free Beer” he instantly understood why he had been born, he understood his purpose in life, he understood why he woke up that morning: he must figure out how many boobs the blonde has, and get the free beer.
So, Mike gives the naked blonde ACORN volunteer another quick look. How many boobs does she have--it would seem at first to be an easy answer: two. There’s one boob on his left with “Oba” written on it. Then on the other side of her chest there’s this other boob with “ma” written on it. That’s one boob named “Oba”, and one boob named “ma”. Mike quickly thought back to grade school: 1+1=2. Could the answer be that simple? Was he being tricked? There was only one way to find out. Mike looked the blonde square in the eyes and said “Two”. The blonde excitedly jumped up and down shaking her two boobs. Yes, Mike had answered correctly! The beer was his!
As the blonde walked down the sidewalk to the next house Mike excitedly carried the cases inside. Should he take each case first in to the living room, or all the way into the kitchen? No, the beer must be taken quickly into the living room, then when all the beer is SAFELY inside with the door closed and locked, and then he can move the cases at his leisure into the kitchen. He must first get them inside before the neighbor kids steal them off the porch.
With the cases all safely in the living room (and the front door locked) Mike did a quick check of the house, making sure all the doors and windows are locked, and that the neighbor kids are not hiding any where in the house. The neighborhood kids have, unfortunately, discovered that Mike keeps beer in his house. More than once Mike’s seen kids running down the street carrying his beer! So, now, with the house secured Mike can now sit down and enjoy his first free beer courtesy of Obama!
This is where the dream starts to get real scary. Mike goes to the drawer where he keeps his beer bottle openers, he opens the drawer, and it’s empty!! Mike looks at the label on the outside of the drawer: “Beer Bottle Openers”. Yes, he has the right drawer, but there are no openers!! Within 5 minutes Mike has ransacked the house, but cannot find any openers!
Mike starts to get that feeling, that feeling that life is scary, mean and empty. Then he starts to feel panic creeping in. Mike fights off the panic and forces himself to find an answer. Yes, that’s it: the convenience store 7 blocks away! He can buy an opener there!
Standing on the front porch Mike carefully locks the door, making very sure that it is locked. Then he warily looks around, to see if there is any sign of the neighbor kids. He doesn’t see them.
Running down the street Mike passed the blonde, standing on another porch. She was smiling and pointing at 12 cases of beer while a man standing in the open doorway stared at her boobs, while counting on his fingers. Mike waved at her and kept running.
Breathlessly he entered the store, and there, right on a rack by the cash register, are openers! Mike reached for his wallet to pay and---wait, his wallet wasn’t there. He had left his wallet at home! He can picture right where it is, on the kitchen table!
Again Mike ran down the sidewalk, this time toward his home. He unlocked the door, and rushed into the kitchen. “Hi, Mike!” It’s the two neighbor kids, Joe and Bill!
“Wow, great beer, Mike”, says Bill. “Yeah”, said Joe. And to Mike’s surprise they each hold in their right hand an open beer! There are also 14 empty beer bottles on the table, Deschutes Mirror Pond Pale Ale empties. They had snuck in like they usually do when Mike was gone, to drink his beer, but today he didn’t mind, because they had brought a bottle opener! “Quick,” said Mike picking up an unopened beer, “let me use your opener.”
Joe looked Mike in the eyes and said, “Not ever in a million years, go get your own opener”. Then Bill looked at Mike and said, “Yeah, me too”.
Mike was horrified. What should he do? If he stayed home he could prevent Joe and Bill from drinking anymore of his free Obama beer, but he can’t drink any. If he leaves to get an opener, Joe and Bill would have all the beer drunk before he got home. What could Mike do?
Don’t worry, this nightmare of a dream has a happy ending. Every time Mike has this dream he wakes up right at this point. And he finds himself alone in his house, in the living room, with 12 full cases of microbrew beer and a bottle opener. How, and why? Mike has never bothered to try and figure that out. Some things are better left alone.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Rat Wool Sweaters
!!Beerboy1 Calling BeerboyMothership, Come In Mothership!!
Rat Wool Sweaters—Thanks to Jack Lord!
The internet—next day air shipping—PayPal—all of these are just a few examples of innovations changing the definition of selling to your next door neighbor. Your literal next door neighbor might not want to buy what you sell. But you ‘internet, next day air shipping, PayPal neighbors? You bet, there’s lots of them—even if what you’re selling is sweaters made from rat hair, or ‘rat wool’—as my PR firm has advised I call it!
Yes, that’s right rat wool. Not cashmere, virgin sheep’s wool, or rayon. In the Western world rats are usually looked down at as low life scavenging germ spreaders only good for use in laboratories for testing drugs. In some SE Asian countries, however, rats are seen as symbols of prosperity and good luck. In those countries my rat wool sweaters are selling like hot cakes!
Okay, the market didn’t exist before me, I invented it. And, you may ask, ‘How much of a scam is this?’ Is he just taking laundry dryer lint and making sweaters, and calling that ‘genuine 100% virgin rat wool’? No, I guarantee we use genuine 100% rat hair. This is how the process works.
First I hand-wash each rat. I got 500 out in the meadow behind the barn. I imported black rock cobras from Northern India to protect my rat herd from predators. I even put up microphones and loud speakers so the snake hissing rattles all over the meadow. I turn the volume up real loud! You bet that keeps predators, human and otherwise away from my rat herd.
Then, before the rat dries too quickly, I strap the rat into a special custom clothes dryer. Inside the drying chamber tiny, tiny replicas of airline seats have been bolted down. Me and my assistants quickly fill the seats with wet rats. Then we set the dryer to run for 20 minutes. Don’t worry about the rats getting too hot. We’ve figured out that piping in a recording of Jack Lord singing “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” into the dryer negates the effects of the heat on the rats.
After 20 minutes the beeper sounds and the dryer stops. The rats are smart enough to figure out how to get out of the seat straps, so all you have to do is leave the dryer door open. Once out the rats rush back to the feed barn where they know a big dish of watermelon washed in their favorite merlot wait.
While the rats are unbuckling, I’m busy with the laundry lint trap. The trap collects the rat hair. Weaving the hair is easy, using the George Forman Rodent Hair sweater grill adapter that can be used with his burger grill.
Then I take pics and put them up on the website. So far, so good—they’ve been selling great!
Rat Wool Sweaters—Thanks to Jack Lord!
The internet—next day air shipping—PayPal—all of these are just a few examples of innovations changing the definition of selling to your next door neighbor. Your literal next door neighbor might not want to buy what you sell. But you ‘internet, next day air shipping, PayPal neighbors? You bet, there’s lots of them—even if what you’re selling is sweaters made from rat hair, or ‘rat wool’—as my PR firm has advised I call it!
Yes, that’s right rat wool. Not cashmere, virgin sheep’s wool, or rayon. In the Western world rats are usually looked down at as low life scavenging germ spreaders only good for use in laboratories for testing drugs. In some SE Asian countries, however, rats are seen as symbols of prosperity and good luck. In those countries my rat wool sweaters are selling like hot cakes!
Okay, the market didn’t exist before me, I invented it. And, you may ask, ‘How much of a scam is this?’ Is he just taking laundry dryer lint and making sweaters, and calling that ‘genuine 100% virgin rat wool’? No, I guarantee we use genuine 100% rat hair. This is how the process works.
First I hand-wash each rat. I got 500 out in the meadow behind the barn. I imported black rock cobras from Northern India to protect my rat herd from predators. I even put up microphones and loud speakers so the snake hissing rattles all over the meadow. I turn the volume up real loud! You bet that keeps predators, human and otherwise away from my rat herd.
Then, before the rat dries too quickly, I strap the rat into a special custom clothes dryer. Inside the drying chamber tiny, tiny replicas of airline seats have been bolted down. Me and my assistants quickly fill the seats with wet rats. Then we set the dryer to run for 20 minutes. Don’t worry about the rats getting too hot. We’ve figured out that piping in a recording of Jack Lord singing “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” into the dryer negates the effects of the heat on the rats.
After 20 minutes the beeper sounds and the dryer stops. The rats are smart enough to figure out how to get out of the seat straps, so all you have to do is leave the dryer door open. Once out the rats rush back to the feed barn where they know a big dish of watermelon washed in their favorite merlot wait.
While the rats are unbuckling, I’m busy with the laundry lint trap. The trap collects the rat hair. Weaving the hair is easy, using the George Forman Rodent Hair sweater grill adapter that can be used with his burger grill.
Then I take pics and put them up on the website. So far, so good—they’ve been selling great!
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Labs on Prozac
The call has gone out from Washington, from Obama and former President Hillary Clinton, that we US citizens, members of the ‘village’ of the United States, need to band together during this tough time. As unemployment numbers rise, we need to be creative, and think of ways to help our fellow US villagers. So, here is my contribution. I’ll explain how you to can use Prozac to con your neighbors for big money!
It goes like this. First you find a well to do neighborhood. You’re looking for people with lots of loose cash. Then you prowl the neighborhood and look a house harboring an overly friendly dog, like, say, a Labrador. For the dog to work as a target it will need to spend time alone outside, like in the backyard.
Then this is where the Prozac comes in. Get some ground beef, and mix the powder from several capsules of Prozac in with the meat. Then when the dog is outside, call the dog over to the fence. Get the meat-Prozac to the dog.
Not long after the dog munches the Prozac laden meat, the dog will get extremely friendly. Imagine a Lab on Prozac! Labs have gotten so friendly anyway that they are close to being dangerous as pets. So, a Lab on Prozac? Yeah, you can just picture what that would look like, right?
Keep this up for a few days. Then, early one morning you blanket the neighborhood with some flyers. These need to be the cheap homemade put somewhat professional looking kind of flyers that homeowners are used to finding on their doorsteps. What does the flyer say? It advertises you as a dog psychologist!
You need to hit every house on the block, not just the house with the Lab. It would be suspicious if you only leafleted the house with the recently freaking out dog.
Well, dear readers, if this were a David the con man story, I’d add lots more details. But, insiders like you, well, I know you can pull this off without me explaining every detail. Do this right and you’ll make lots of money!
It goes like this. First you find a well to do neighborhood. You’re looking for people with lots of loose cash. Then you prowl the neighborhood and look a house harboring an overly friendly dog, like, say, a Labrador. For the dog to work as a target it will need to spend time alone outside, like in the backyard.
Then this is where the Prozac comes in. Get some ground beef, and mix the powder from several capsules of Prozac in with the meat. Then when the dog is outside, call the dog over to the fence. Get the meat-Prozac to the dog.
Not long after the dog munches the Prozac laden meat, the dog will get extremely friendly. Imagine a Lab on Prozac! Labs have gotten so friendly anyway that they are close to being dangerous as pets. So, a Lab on Prozac? Yeah, you can just picture what that would look like, right?
Keep this up for a few days. Then, early one morning you blanket the neighborhood with some flyers. These need to be the cheap homemade put somewhat professional looking kind of flyers that homeowners are used to finding on their doorsteps. What does the flyer say? It advertises you as a dog psychologist!
You need to hit every house on the block, not just the house with the Lab. It would be suspicious if you only leafleted the house with the recently freaking out dog.
Well, dear readers, if this were a David the con man story, I’d add lots more details. But, insiders like you, well, I know you can pull this off without me explaining every detail. Do this right and you’ll make lots of money!
SeabirdJoJo
Seabirdjojo, as soon as I figure out how to reply to a post I'll respond to you. gee, it's complicated!!!
Monday, June 22, 2009
Logical Hair Cut?
The new Star Trek movie is great. But what's with this haircut style of the Vulcan men? Vulcan men are supposed to be ultra logical--so that dorkish hair style of theirs must be the most 'logical' men's hair style in the universe, right? No way!!...
Hair Health
On the serious side, I've mentioned that I'm a big fan of alternative medicine. I've got many books that medical pracitioners use, and take over 50 pills, tabs, powders, etc., a day--so you can see I'm serious about alternative medicine...So, a thought came to me the other day--'I wonder if one reason women live longer than men is because women take better care of their hair?'...Women will take mineral and vitamin supplements for hair. These supplements end up supplying more nutrients for other parts of the body than just hair. Also, hormonal imbalance can cause hair loss, and women are far more likely to seek to correct these imbalances than men--often times to keep their hair looking good, but ultimately adding to overall health...
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Obama Underground Railroad
Beerboy1 Calling BeerboyMothership! Come in Mothership!!
Remember that controversy over Obama’s train trip to Washington DC for his inauguration, the trip that retraced the train trip Abraham Lincoln took to Washington for his inauguration? Will, that controversy is small to what would have happened if Obama had followed the advice of some in his PR department. Some PR friends working in Hollywood. Obama turned them down. Why? The PR people told him to get to Washington for the inauguration by using the Underground Railroad!
This would have been a modern updating of the Underground Railroad. The proposed plan would have had Obama dressed up as a McDonald’s employee. He would have been followed to a McDonald’s in Atlanta by a CNN news team. The McDonald’s happens to be built over the ruins of a mansion that housed a stop along the original underground railroad. The radical left considers McDonald’s to be the modern equivalent for blacks of a slave plantation.
The plan was for Obama to walk in without any secret service and pretend he was a regular employee. The CNN team would have arrived several minutes earlier and pretended to be doing a news piece unrelated to Obama. Obama would have worked a few minutes taking orders, and then slipped back by the French fry vat. Under the vat is a trap door leading to a tunnel in the foundation of the old mansion.
After Obama was sure the door could be opened he would make the secret CNN hand signal to a black woman CNN employee working in disguise in the backroom. The woman would have video taped Obama going down into the tunnel. Several of the other black McDonald’s workers would have been encouraged to follow Obama. Why? At that point Obama would have revealed who he really was.
Unfortunately the real tunnel doesn’t go very far any more. So, the PR team had made an arrangement with some of their Hollywood movie friends. The movie team had made special effects recreating important stops along the old Underground Railroad system. Fortunately for Obama’s PR team many of these old stops are now covered by McDonald’s restaurants. This would make it easy to continue incorporating the slave plantation and McDonald’s-as-modern-slave-plantation themes.
CNN had planned at this point to issue a ‘Breaking News’ report. They would have shown what I described above. Then they would have cut to a McDonald’s in Washington, DC. This McDonald’s has an Underground Railroad tunnel coming up in the men’s rest room. Obama would have burst out of the trap door, still dressed in his McDonald’s uniform. From there he would have driven to the Inauguration Ceremony. While dressed in the McDonald’s uniform, and wearing slave shackles, he would have begun his speech “Free at last, free at last, thank God, I’m finally free at last from taking French fry orders!”
While Obama himself thought this was a wonderful idea, fortunately his wife Michelle did not. So, this plan lays in wait on a shelf somewhere...
Remember that controversy over Obama’s train trip to Washington DC for his inauguration, the trip that retraced the train trip Abraham Lincoln took to Washington for his inauguration? Will, that controversy is small to what would have happened if Obama had followed the advice of some in his PR department. Some PR friends working in Hollywood. Obama turned them down. Why? The PR people told him to get to Washington for the inauguration by using the Underground Railroad!
This would have been a modern updating of the Underground Railroad. The proposed plan would have had Obama dressed up as a McDonald’s employee. He would have been followed to a McDonald’s in Atlanta by a CNN news team. The McDonald’s happens to be built over the ruins of a mansion that housed a stop along the original underground railroad. The radical left considers McDonald’s to be the modern equivalent for blacks of a slave plantation.
The plan was for Obama to walk in without any secret service and pretend he was a regular employee. The CNN team would have arrived several minutes earlier and pretended to be doing a news piece unrelated to Obama. Obama would have worked a few minutes taking orders, and then slipped back by the French fry vat. Under the vat is a trap door leading to a tunnel in the foundation of the old mansion.
After Obama was sure the door could be opened he would make the secret CNN hand signal to a black woman CNN employee working in disguise in the backroom. The woman would have video taped Obama going down into the tunnel. Several of the other black McDonald’s workers would have been encouraged to follow Obama. Why? At that point Obama would have revealed who he really was.
Unfortunately the real tunnel doesn’t go very far any more. So, the PR team had made an arrangement with some of their Hollywood movie friends. The movie team had made special effects recreating important stops along the old Underground Railroad system. Fortunately for Obama’s PR team many of these old stops are now covered by McDonald’s restaurants. This would make it easy to continue incorporating the slave plantation and McDonald’s-as-modern-slave-plantation themes.
CNN had planned at this point to issue a ‘Breaking News’ report. They would have shown what I described above. Then they would have cut to a McDonald’s in Washington, DC. This McDonald’s has an Underground Railroad tunnel coming up in the men’s rest room. Obama would have burst out of the trap door, still dressed in his McDonald’s uniform. From there he would have driven to the Inauguration Ceremony. While dressed in the McDonald’s uniform, and wearing slave shackles, he would have begun his speech “Free at last, free at last, thank God, I’m finally free at last from taking French fry orders!”
While Obama himself thought this was a wonderful idea, fortunately his wife Michelle did not. So, this plan lays in wait on a shelf somewhere...
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
!!Beerboy1 calling BeerboyMothership, come in Mothership!!
Hi Folks! Some of you have asked how I support myself. So, here is how I do it--it has to do with being a pet rat owner. Or, more specifically, owner of rats that were former Federal laboratory research rats. All of my rats have been former federal laboratory research rats that came to live with me after their working careers were finished. As Federal employees the rats qualify for life insurance--$500,000 worth! And rats live at the most up to 4 years. I do love my dear rats, really, I do. When each one dies I am heartbroken. The $500,000 the Federal government gives me each time one of my dear rats dies can not possibly make up for the loss of my dear gone pet. But, the money does help. So far in the past 4 years 26 of my former Federal employee rats have died. Yes, you are correct, that is a lot of grief to go through. So, you can easily imagine that the $13 million dollars I've received has been little consolation. Still, the money does help...
Hi Folks! Some of you have asked how I support myself. So, here is how I do it--it has to do with being a pet rat owner. Or, more specifically, owner of rats that were former Federal laboratory research rats. All of my rats have been former federal laboratory research rats that came to live with me after their working careers were finished. As Federal employees the rats qualify for life insurance--$500,000 worth! And rats live at the most up to 4 years. I do love my dear rats, really, I do. When each one dies I am heartbroken. The $500,000 the Federal government gives me each time one of my dear rats dies can not possibly make up for the loss of my dear gone pet. But, the money does help. So far in the past 4 years 26 of my former Federal employee rats have died. Yes, you are correct, that is a lot of grief to go through. So, you can easily imagine that the $13 million dollars I've received has been little consolation. Still, the money does help...
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
!!Beerboy1 calling Beerboymothership, come in Mothership!!
Some of you have asked what I read. I read non-fiction. The 3 main categories I like to read about are alternative medicine, alternative history and Eastern orthodoxy. I also read myth, folklore, history, and ancient history. Some recent books I've read are Nazi International, The Templar's Legacy in Montreal, and Miracles in the Last Days.
Some of you have asked what I read. I read non-fiction. The 3 main categories I like to read about are alternative medicine, alternative history and Eastern orthodoxy. I also read myth, folklore, history, and ancient history. Some recent books I've read are Nazi International, The Templar's Legacy in Montreal, and Miracles in the Last Days.
Monday, June 15, 2009
VAMPIRE ALERT!!
You've seen Suzanne Somers on TV, pushing all those health supplements, eating right, and her books. Guess what? The editors at this blog just got a scoop--Suzanne Somers is actually not an extreme health fanatic, but a vampire! That's why she looks like she's 18 instead of 62! Her eternal fountain of youth is blood, not Vitamin C. Suzanne just pretends to be into health foods as a cover story for why she looks so young!
You've seen Suzanne Somers on TV, pushing all those health supplements, eating right, and her books. Guess what? The editors at this blog just got a scoop--Suzanne Somers is actually not an extreme health fanatic, but a vampire! That's why she looks like she's 18 instead of 62! Her eternal fountain of youth is blood, not Vitamin C. Suzanne just pretends to be into health foods as a cover story for why she looks so young!
!!This is Beerboy1 calling BeerboyMothership--This is Beerboy1 calling BeerboyMothership--Come in Mothership!!
June 11
The first draft of the David the Con Man novel is done--over 73,000 words! When the manuscript is done the word count will be between 80,000-100,000. Now my PR man, Burke Allen will get me in touch with freelance fiction editors he has worked with. Once we determine the best editor for the project, then I'll get the manuscript done. Then Burke will find me an agent. I'll keep all of you posted...
All Blog posts by Skip McRobert copyright by Skip McRobert, 2009
June 11
The first draft of the David the Con Man novel is done--over 73,000 words! When the manuscript is done the word count will be between 80,000-100,000. Now my PR man, Burke Allen will get me in touch with freelance fiction editors he has worked with. Once we determine the best editor for the project, then I'll get the manuscript done. Then Burke will find me an agent. I'll keep all of you posted...
All Blog posts by Skip McRobert copyright by Skip McRobert, 2009
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