swinging party down the line

that's all one can hope for these days. the swine flu (God forbid we should rile the pork producers and actually they're right - this is a human virus now, leave pork out of it), but people are dying. doesn't something similar happen every flu season? when i get the flu i don't even go to my doctor unless i need a refill on the percodan (not). i'm thinking i'll play this one out, avoid the hype. lay low. stay easy. and look for a swinging party down the line.

be real

obama didn't create this mess. eight years of cowboy bush did. if you aren't clued into that basic fact then move to crawford TX. you'll be about as welcome there as you would be here. feel free to practice your irrelevant intolerance since you no longer live in the world but in your tiny little compound surrounded by fences and gates. good thing you have a pool. you'll need it when iran and korea launch. as if. grow up.

hard to break

just like any crawford i've ever known, ol' robert can't be whipped by one, two or three or even four. the old boys behind main st. in wall tried but couldn't move that gang out of place. now he's been told he's whipped but you and i, and we, know better. and now that he's got that brand new four barrel carburetor, i suspect he'll make more trouble than he did before. if that's actually possible.

my cat did some meth or something

I think Willie did some meth or coke tonite. He came back in from outside, tipped over my beer and immediately hit the iPod speaker dock and navigated to the Killers and then the Fray using the old touch wheel. I was impressed with his ability and choice until he went at clawing my leather man-recliner, or tried to before I cuffed him hard. Then I grabbed him to check whether he was was on drugs and he shot out of my hand like a bolt of lightening and right into the glass patio door. BOINK. SPLAT. Rargh, spasm, mee-ouch. As he lay twitching on the Spanish tile gasping for air, I approached with great caution because he's tricked me before into buying him Fancy Feast (the little tweaker). But, before I got to him, the ceiling cat, the evil all-white Caspar came in. He's her cat and he's a bastard. He watches me when she's away. Maybe or perhaps very likely he's not ceiling cat but actually a demon.
On his demonic entrance, Willie came to life and rose up and got Masonic (Willie's Fifth Degree Mason) on Caspar's ass. During a 30 second crazed sword-fight frenzy, they damn near knocked my 42" plasma off the wall. I swear I saw them run up a wall, across the ceiling and tip over a forty pound clay cactus planter during a very entertaining scuffle. Willie is cleaning his paws right now and Caspar ain't quite as white as he was before he annoyed Willie. Some of you might know or remember Willie has Pueblo, CO hobo-camp experience. You don't mess with hobos or their cats. We all know that. I think. Oh yeah and I forgot to mention that Willie trains at the Gilbert County Island Flood Irrigation Ninja Prefectory for Cats. So he did have an advantage over Caspar. Plus, Caspar's a pussy.

TeevBow Update

we're just upgrading our marketing from Teever-Bowman to TeevBow for president, 2012. Or earlier if need arises. We are working on a platform but our initial access to platform grade plywood was limited. Notwithstanding our campaign team risking it's life for 2x4's and cinder blocks and concrete at the abandoned housing development in north Rapid, we'll push through.

at a limpin' run

how to get motivated these days besides just hangin' on and driving a used saturn with a buck 30 on it?
any ideas? anyone? i been at a limpin' run since my leg almost bugged off last year. on it's own accord.
the highlight of my day today was explaining the NFPA to an Operations Manager, explaining to another how to buy a forklift battery using a phone and/or the internet and downloading Pandora to my crackberry.
i'm sure i must be some poor somebody's hero, but of course i'd rather not be. i am too good at lazy. if anyone's looking for that, call. i'll make some chili. bring beer.

the copper penny

i was let out of the house by the person in charge so i hopped in my truck and headed to 'downtown' gilbert with my sights set on the copper penny. a fine, historical establishment with pool and darts and wackos and normals. my perfect element, exactly. i will definitely be going back after having made sure the bouncer (dave) and the bartenders (lindsey and kim) know my name. from the hit on my AMEX gold, i'm sure they will.
anyway, i met a strung out meth head with bad breath, a girl with barely concealed boobs so big i couldn't stop looking and a few really cool folks, but i'm home now and someone is gonna be mad when i crawl in. could be me and the cat on the couch tonite.

Update: The couch it is. With the cat. At least he understands my wandering. It's not like I was the one that pooped in her shoe. Probably her cat that did that. He's trying to drive a wedge, I think. Jealous little fink.

rain

i hope it rains tomorrow so i can stay inside and watch the masters and snack on the homemade tamales i bought for a buck apiece - two beef, two pork, two pollo. all for six bucks.
the lady at the circle k sells them for extra cash from the back room. she and her sister make them. they're awesome and so long as i don't get the ptomaine, i'll keep buying them. really, they're awesome and now i have a real homemade tamale source. i'll be on the look out for some excellent chorizo next. it has to be fresh. made on site. and when they give you your change, they'll do it in spanish.

473 million

is the amount of money spent on and by the beer industry in sodak in 2008. about a million of that comes from people i know. they also buy trucks, guns and attend bonfire keggers. sometimes they fight, but that doesn't stop the flow of beer. it's a commodity. never to be criminalized. it's part of the holy trinity of weed, pizza and beer. and cable. i added that to the trinity. and music. and BBQ. and driving down a dirt road with a great friend listening to the jim carroll band while chasing a herd of cows. my friend assures me he can jump from the window onto the the back of one of these cows ...
he positions himself accordingly but no dice, the cows fan out. i can't get him close enough
he gets back in and we replay JC's perfect gravity

my new pool

i love this pool. small but with a rock waterfall that lights up at night. it's like staying at a miniature sheraton.
it was 92 today in phoenix. the pool was as cold as ... well not as cold as hell, but not like south dakota either. a hot-cold gig is rejuvenating. it's just cold up there now.
but i don't live in SoDak anymore, i live in the valley of the sun, so tomorrow morning i'm gonna toast a couple of eggo waffles, slather 'em with a bit of salted, sweet cream butter, douse 'em with the chokecherry syrup that i got from my 2012 pres-campaign runnin' mate and bestest girlfriend Pat B, and chomp beside the pool. i'll be grinnin' the whole time. because as country dick sang, i'm a happy boy.
hasta manyana

PS: Pat, you are a sweetheart; this syrup is awesome!

hound dog taylor and the houserockers

just when i thought i was living in the perfect paradise, it got better. ole hound dog set up his kit in the backyard. so i'm gettin' some ribs prepped for the grill. gonna adorn them with some north carolina pig perfector, bone suckin' sauce it's a gol' dang hootenanny! just wish ole' festus could be here (RIP Mr. Parker) and of course, you're invited too

happy easter

is it next week? cripes i don't keep track. a holiday? not for me now and never really was. a weird space in time built around rabbits and hard-boiled eggs. the fact that they got this spruce goose to fly is 89% of its cachet. of course there are peeps (gag) and chocolate rabbits but i grew up poor so my rabbit was always hollow.
it took me awhile to figure out the good friday mystery of forehead dust. i thought maybe they just finished reading the new york times and inadvertently touched their forehead. you know, the ink dust. i'm glad i don't practice a face painting religion. it saves time. i don't have to explain the smudge. but hey, you catholics go ahead. rock on.

digging tamara

i met tamara last night at the spurr lounge in laveen. unfortunately on probably my last night there because i'm moving back to the east valley and about 40 miles away. bummer? the spurr is the best cowboy/indian bar i've found in this otherwise chain-sports-bar wasteland. people remember you there. i get my bottle of bud with a frosted mug. it's not advertised. i asked sammy, the bartender, why not, and she said we quit offering it but we know you like 'em so we keep a few in the freezer for you. dang - how can times be so tough when you have friends like these?
anyway, tamara was a young pretty little thing that pulled up on the stool next to me when others more distant were available and immediately engaged me in conversation. i couldn't figure out whether she was asian, latino or otherwise so i went out on a limb and simply asked her. turn's out she's navaho. i told her if i ever bought a kachina doll, i would want it to look just like her.
i'd forgotten that kachina's were hopi but she still thought it was sweet. i hope she gets everything she wants in life. she ought to.

i can't find arlys klundt on facebook

after a great deal of very little or maybe even no effort, i still can't find arlys klundt on facebook. he is apparently not one of the estimated 200 million users. i did speak to his father lyle, currently employed as a janitor at the school in kadoka. he gave me some news and assured me that arlys was alive and well but that he could provide no further information, national security or something.
i met with some teever ops guys (yeah, i hire spec-ops guys in situations like this). they surveilled lyle for some time but no evidence of arlys or his whereabouts ever surfaced. he's like a ghost or a ninja.
but my spec-ops guys did get the skinny - arlys sells frozen pizza for a distributor in south korea for a Brazilian pizza company operating out of las vegas, nevada. my guys (spec-ops), have confirmed. i'm going to korea next week to try to bring him back. lyle thinks he's gone native. i'll hook up with my SEAL contacts and get him home. bet on it.

i ain't a cowboy, but i know a few

marty, darty, lee, scott (even though he defected to north dakota), grant (they had the bucking barrel - that was a collarbone breaker). joe dubya who's prca on broncs right now. that temple SOB who rode bulls, I don't remember how he died. probably a car accident. somebody comment and fill me in.
it was great to grow up in a town that had a place called the 'rodeo grounds'. horses and bulls, a few calves for the ropers and steers for the boys. loose meat sandwiches and beer. beat the shit out of luchenbach, tx, didn't it?

PS: we used to sneak up under the bleachers and steal the old cow hands' beer and hats, the beer is gone but i still have the hat

diana deserves

a front and center

the moonie is on a bender

or some kind of weird downward spiral. i asked if i could speak with her regarding administrative matters - she said, "no, i have to get up at 1 AM, i really can't talk". WTF. she works for a mortgage broker? at 1 AM? am i reliving the song Jane Says by Jane's Addiction? is the broker pimping her? i doubt it because she ain't all that healthy lookin', but i'll delve no further - though i wonder if that shopping cart down by the mailboxes is her new home
sad times

making friends

years ago in minneapolis my sister in law brought her mother (who I knew) and her new husband (who I did not know) to the family workplace (beautiful bambino children's clothing). I was VP of Production which meant I channeled the work flow and actually acted as the head cutter and pattern layout guy. well, in-law step-dude shows up and he's kind of identified as an asshole so they say go hang with the teever, he's cool and can show you how we run this show. he does. we discuss tools and boats. i show him how to safely use a reciprocating straight knife. turns out, he's not an asshole. he's ok. but sucks with the knife. can't keep a line. he could never cut velvet.
later, i get a report back, step-dad says to sister i law's mom who reports back to me that he said, 'I like that guy, he knows how to make friends'.
One of the best compliments I've ever received.

teever/bowman push G20 for more global warming

the teever/bowman political alliance is taking on this rash of global cooling and rampant snowstorms by pushing a global warming agenda at the G20 conference in europe. while attracting little support for their ambitious agenda, they were seen eating strawberry crepes with thick, farm-fresh cream at a small cafe near the louvre. pat was resplendant in feathered carapace while teever donned a cotton, black and white striped shirt and leather beret. it was rumored that later they would be attending an absinthe tasting affair at the botanical gardens near le gare sud'est. before we could confirm, they bought a baguette, some jam, a bit of butter and a servicible knife and sped off on a Vespa.