Dr. Beads

Sunday, September 25, 2005

Chow Line

My son asked me what people in the military eat. I told him that it probably depended on whether the squad or whatever was on the move and/or in an unsafe place, vs in a stable position in a safe location. Depending on the situation, they might eat basically canned food (formerly K Rations and the like, now MREs), or they might have a regular camp kitchen set up.

Then something waved to me from my memory. "My father told me that he liked the food in the Navy."

My son's reply: "I like the food in prison. [Pause.] You can just drop me off near San Quentin. My parole agent will take it from there."

Saturday, September 24, 2005


The crisis appears to be over, at least for the moment. My dreams have been downgraded from FUBAR to SNAFU.

Recent dreams have revolved around the usual nonsense -- a college reunion (at which I received much unwanted attention from someone who was my classmate in a different school of higherlearning), work ('nuff said), and guest appearances by my late mother.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

REM Rebound

OK, the true crime stuff is over. I can't stand it any more.

After last night's wakey-wakey time (from about 3:30 to whenever), I fell asleep briefly and dreamed that:

a.) there were many wild rats and mice in the garage,

b.) there were also several feral cats in the garage (menacing me instead of the rodents),

c.) the dog ran away to certain death,

d.) a plague hit the planet, causing many young children to grow fur overnight, and

e.) as a result of d.), my furless son, though older than the furry kidlings, was in danger of kidnapping.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Maybe warm milk with honey would help (me, not her)?

I've been on a "true crime" reading binge.

The result is that, when I wake up in the middle of the night and can't get back to sleep, I worry about Beth Short*, instead of work or health or finances.

- - - -
* Elizabeth Ann Short, aka the "Black Dahlia," tortured, murdered, bisected, and dumped in Los Angeles in 1947.

Saturday, September 10, 2005

Got a (French) Quarter?

I found a quarter in the laundry. It's very tarnished, almost as if it had been sitting in polluted water.

It's a Louisiana state quarter.

Saturday, September 03, 2005

I Got Your End Times Right Here

Rehnquist is dead.

You want end times?

I got your end times right here.

There Will Be No Body Count in N.O.

There will be no body count in New Orleans.

The Repugs/Retardicans/Fucktardicans will claim a public health risk and will have the entire area bulldozed or burned.

They dismantled the parts of government that actually serve and protect the citizens regardless of power or money, and the result is that a city that was 2/3 black (and largely poor) was the victim of a preventable disaster of Old Testament proportions.

The fucktards who claim to love Jesus Christ, yet don't follow his teachings, let it happen. Made it happen. It wasn't the revenge of the God of the Old Testament. It was the result of a smirk and a prayer to the gods of old-boyism and cronyism and oil money.

There will be no final counting of the bodies of the old, the young, the sick, the desperate, who drowned in their lower-floor apartments.

The survivors are being shipped to Republican strongholds.

What a coup for redistricting.

Too bad I don't really believe in a Hell or other forms of divine retribution.