TJW's blog

It's 65 F and raining. And I'm drinking to outlaw country: singers with a distinct twang, depressed drawl, dig? Leaves turned a while ago. I'm about to turn from sedated to sedation, there's a difference, believe me. Finish a drink, go out for a smoke. Play with the rabbit. Check on the snakes - heat lamps working, nice and cozy, super duper. Roof on the homestead is tin so the raindrops ting and bling and snap and sing as Willie Nelson sings,...

Visited mama this past weekend, just for the hell of it. She cooked the whole time I was there, well, cooked and fed me. Come taste this, come taste this again . . . by the time the meal was ready I'd tasted so much it was all I could do to finish my plate. And each time I tasted she'd hold the spoon or fork up to my mouth, cup her hand underneath and feed me. Then she'd dab my mouth with a napkin. After eating she'd insisted that I take a nap...

Folks say Florida doesn't get all four seasons, well, I'm here to say that it does indeed; just gets all four in a single day. Winter in the pre-dawn, Fall by late morning, Spring by noon, Summer by afternoon then Winter in the evening then . . . humma humma.

Sometimes, accidental like, one of the snakes bites me instead of the mouse and I don't want the snake to let go. Other times, when nothing bites, scratches, scrapes, cuts nor otherwise inflicts me I wish that I had been, you know, one or some or all above. Sometimes I like the discomfort. The flinch. Pain. Because the moment gives me an opportunity to endure. And if I endure it. I am still strong. Endurance. Strength. Cut scrape scratch bite me...

Car wreck last Saturday, car totaled, got a whack to the head, don't remember shit about the collision. Just what I need: another whack to the head. Fuck.

About twenty minutes into my shift my phone rang. Sir. Had to take all my gear off and by the time I had the call had ended. Voice mail. Which I never check. Called back. "Hello?" "Sir?" "Hello, son. I just thought you'd want to know that sis died this morning." "Aunt Betty?" "Yes, just thought you'd want to know." Aunty Betty, eldest of seven children and the sister of six brothers - dead. She'd always called me heartbreaker. Hey, heartbreaker...

"Jack." - - - - - "Jack . . . hey, I'm recording you." Looking up from my book, "Why?" "I'm going to ask you a couple of questions and I want proof of your reaction." "Ummm..." "One of them is kind of, uh, dirty - " "Yeah? Alright, go ahead." "Would you rather have unlimited threesomes for a year or one night with the woman of your dreams?" "What do you mean? " "So, you have a choice of - " "No, I understand that. I mean you said 'unlimited' and...

It's done: my will. Sissy gets my animals and ... that's it. I have nothing. Live paycheck to paycheck. So sissy will take care of my babies. I know she will. Just in case ... Samantha (sissy) will look after my babies. Another comfort, another closure (and I still hate that fucking word).

Went just like I expected: met the physical requirements no problem (push ups, sit ups, pull ups humma humma) but my medical history makes me incompatible with military service. Still, good to know that I'm still fit (in body, at least and minus the headaches and medication) and I'm fine with it all. My serving days are officially over and that is some kind of closure - hate that fucking word.

Welcome back you coward! You're a coward! A real man would stand up for the weak! You kill women and children for oil! Fucking baby killer! Government puppet! Just follow your orders, coward! You have the blood of the innocent on your hands! No blood for oil! No blood for oil! And they drove away.