Another Day in the Saltmines

Well, here we are. Another day. Another chance to keep up the good fight. The fight for what? Another shot at the "brass ring"? If I don't have it by now, chances are  that I never will.

 

     And so the world turns. We grow older; maybe, if we are lucky, a little wiser. But for some of us, life just goes on. That is just fine with me. I have no complaints. Well, I do have some, but what good would it do me?

 

       "Live hard and fast, die young, and leave a good-looking corpse!". I used to think like that. I still do to some degree. When most people are smart enough to flee a situation, I will stand my ground. I don't back down. I forge ahead. I never quit. There have been so many times when I could have just given up before in my life. I never did. I almost did once, but that is another story.

 

       For today, we are good to go. Locked, cocked, and ready to rock! Comments, Questions, Abusive Remarks?? Just bring it!

 

                 "THE DRAGON MASTER"

Food for Thought

   This bit of information goes to all of my people over at the Smoke Away site. Two members have recently returned. I won't use names, but they are affectionly known as M&M to me. Watch out for these two. They claim to be your best friend, then cut your throat when you are not looking.

      I can't believe these two persons. They literally slammed me when I decided to go back for a look, and here they are, joining again. Please steer clear of these two people. They will ask you to do something for them, then say that you are "collaborating" with some un-seen enemy.

        I have always been upfront about any of my activities. These two WILL NOT afford you the same kind of courtesy. One will wrongly accuse you, then say it was a big mistake. Never mind that you were insulted by her, and treated rudely---it was just a mistake.  The other one will call you out on a website, then say something completely stupid, like "I didn't use any names".

       Most of this was my own fault. They are BOTH neurotic wrecks of humanity. One of them even asked me to change things in my journal, so she came out looking better than was known. Yes, shame on me for doing it. It was wrong, but I thought I was doing it for the right reasons. On top of that, the other one had the nerve to challenge me to remove a post that she had made recently.

       Just be careful when dealing with these people. I gave up something that I truly cherished because of these two. I will regret that for a long time..................

Back In Time---again

  I have been asked before when is my first memory. For some reason, my first vivid memory of even existing is a few days before the first day of school. First grade, of course. I have two other pictures in my mind . I think I was younger. The first is of my mother listening to some Beatles' song. I was looking out of a window as she was packing some clothes into a bag. Then, someone pulls up in a Volkswagen "Bug", and she is gone. I'm all alone?? I think so.... Anyway, the other picture is of looking down from an apartment window. This was really high up, and seeing my mother getting into a car at night. This time, my grandmother is with me, or I am with her.

        I remember my first year of school vividly. The books of Dick, Jane, and Spot. Our little "readers" they were called. I remember being mad at the kids who stumbled through it when we had to read aloud. These were simple words, what the fuck is wrong with these kids? I also remember the kid that cried all year long. Everyday, all day. If it had been a girl, I might have been more forgiving. About halfway through the school-year, I got sick of it. I got out of my seat, went to the back corner where he was put by the teacher, and beat the shit out of him. It felt good.

       My mother was called to the school. Seems "little Johnny" is just too mean to be in class with other kids. I pleaded my case as best as a six year old could. They just didn't see that a boy crying was sooo wrong, in my eyes. I recall missing a few days of school, then going back, only to get the "crybaby" seat in the back of the room. Suited me just fine. At least the little bastard was quiet for the rest of the time I was there.

        I have never liked people, even back then. I was always quicker to fight than to talk. We moved shortly after that incident, to a small rural town. I had to ride the bus to school there. I loved it! A big ole' bus! But, there was this kid that I didn't like on the bus. He was seven (7), and I was still six. He just looked at me funny too many times.

        This boy only lived two houses down from us. I had thought about knocking on his door, and asking his mom could I kick his ass just once. But, that is just the thing that got me into trouble before. There had to be another way...I would find it.

         The very next day on the way home, on the bus, I waited 'till we stopped at his house. When he started down the aisle to the front door, I tripped him. He was pissed, so I blew him a kiss just to be sure! When he got off that bus, his books hit the ground, and he was running for my house. He didn't have long to wait. I jumped from the bus right on top of him. We fought for what seemed an eternity. Neither of us certain of victory. But then, neither of us had lost, either.

         This went on, day after day. We would depart the bus at our respective homes, and meet somewhere in the middle, fighting, clawing, punching, biting. Whatever it took to make the other give up. I remember the boy's last name, but not his first. I don't think I ever really cared. I just wanted to hurt him, and he wanted to hurt me. Why? I don't think we will ever know for sure.

        One thing I DO know for sure; when I say there are others out there like me, I speak from experience.

A Little Fun

    I recently saw an ugly incident that involved a "citizen" and an "old school" biker. This incident should never have come to pass, had the "citizen" been privy to some basic guidelines and rules. So, to keep anyone else from being hurt, I have comprised a list of things to help you identify if the person you are speaking to is an "old school" biker.

 

  If this person rolls up on a big, loud motorcycle, don't say something stupid. You know, like, "Nice Honda!".  Always, always err on the side of caution. If you don't know what they look like, then just assume EVERY motorcycle is a Harley-Davidson. No Honda rider was ever pissed off because someone called their rice-burner a Harley.

      If this person has tattos covering most of their body, please, please, NEVER ask "did those hurt?". There are only two (2) correct responses to that question in the mind of a biker; you either recieve a crushed skull, or a boot so far up your ass that your breath smells like boot-polish for a month.

      If you hear this person refer to a woman as his ol' lady, she is his wife or girlfriend; if he refers to her as his "property", then you are in serious trouble----you weren't eyeing her, were you??  Oh well, sucks to be you at that time!!

      If this person is talking about "rug-rats", he is NOT reffering to a cartoon on television.

          If this person is talking to other people who look similar to him, and you hear words like "Shovel-Head", "Pan-Head", "Knuckle-Head", "Suicide-Shifter", 6 over rake, or something else you don't understand, please don't seek to interject yourself in the conversation in hopes of understanding them. This is neither the time or place to try and cross some "social boundary".

         I can't stress this next one enough. NEVER, and I mean NEVER, look at a bunch of bikers, and call them "scooter-trash", or "biker-trash". Those words are ONLY for a privelidged  few. And, lets face it, you ain't one of them.

        This one comes from personal experience. NEVER laugh at a biker gang comprised of just women. And NEVER tell their leader that "all she needs is a 'man'". I learned exactly what the bottom of a pair of Wolverine workboots looks like behind that remark in my younger days. No, it was not pretty. These "ladies" were "special". And by that I mean that they were Lesbians. I have always carried a strong respect for women since then.

       And, last but not least, if any one of these instructions is confusing to you, then just steer clear of the guy on the scooter, with the tattoos, and the bad look on his face. We tend to call people like you "stress-relief".

          These instructions were provided as a public service.

 

HOLLA' IF YOU HEAR ME!!!

Reflections

I have raised two lovely girls. One has left home to start her own family, the other is 13 years old, and still at home. The youngest is big enough to take care of herself, so no worries there. My job as a parent was almost finished. ALMOST.

 

     Almost is the worst word in the English language. I will try to help you see just how that is so.

 

      My two daughters fell under my care, and my protection. It wasn't their fault that they were born. The way I have always seen it, they owed me nothing....I, on the other hand, owed them everything. I still expect nothing of my girls. I know that I can be a hard man to get along with. Sorry, it's just the way that I am. I, in turn, tried to provide all the things that two little girls needed through the years. They didn't always get everything they WANTED, but they were well provided for. Even if I had to pull off some "shady" things....we do as we must.

 

     Now, I have two more little ones who have come into my care and protection. But, they are grandchildren. Here is where "almost" comes in. I was only "almost" finished raising children. Thank the Gods I wasn't completely finished!  I feel a renewed spirit, a new direction, a reason to live. I know, it makes no sense at all to me, either. I was ready to just give up. But these two little ones turn to me in the daytime for everything...food, love, shelter, protection, comfort, you name it, they get it from me.

 

     I give all of this freely, without constraints, and without them ever owing me a debt. These little ones owe me nothing, for they give so much in return already. Is it unreasonable for a man like me, with my background, to feel like this? I think not. Besides, if anyone tried to harm them, I would have lots of fun reaching down their throat, grabbing them by the asshole, and turning them inside-out!!  That usually gets rid of a LOT of stress instantly.

 

        Look around you......there are far more reasons to keep fighting than there are reasons to just give up. Trust me on this....I speak from personal experience.  Questions? Comments? Abusive Remarks? Let me hear them!!

Time Out!!

 Finally, a little "me time". I am now in my fourth week of taking care of my grandchildren.  What have I learned in those four weeks? Read on, dear friend, read on.

 

   Yes, two small children CAN make more noise than an entire construction company putting up a fifty story building!! And they do so with frightening regularity. Never, under ANY circumstances, give a sixteen month old boy semi-heavy objects to play with in  the hopes that the weight will slow him down! It won't, and at that age, they have discovered just how to swing heavy objects at vital body parts,(head, below the belt, elbows, knees, you name it!).

 

  After several blows to the head from an old piston and conn rod assembly out of an old knucklehead, I finally realized that I could be in need of medical attention!! Loss of blood from head wounds is a BAD THING. DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS AT YOUR HOME.......

 

      Imagine trying to put pants on an alligator blindfolded. That is how it is when the boy needs changing. And, so help me, he needs changing frequently! And, please, let us not forget about those "nasty" surprises in some of those diapers!! I swear, some of that shit is TOXIC!!  No wonder my mom hated us boys!!(that was a joke)

 

    When little Vinnie starts doing something he shouldn't, I say to him, "stop, Vinnie".  He just turns to me and laughs, as he continues to do what he shouldn't be doing. The kid must have solid steel balls!! Someone ten times bigger than you, and you just laugh at them.....I knew I liked that boy for a good reason!!

 

   His big sis? She is a little dream. Unless the little boy gets out of hand, then she says to me, "let ME handle this, pop-pop". She has a command of spanish that is beyond my comprehension. Just a few words from her, and he stops whatever he is doing. From that point on, little Rozie is in charge. I have never seen anything like it!

 

       This little boy will have to listen to many people throughout his lifetime, but there is only one who he will pay any attention to. That one is his big sis. All in all, I would have to say this is a fun thing to do, being with them everyday. They seem to enjoy corn dogs for breakfast, ice cream for lunch, and just "whatever" for dinner.

 

     Any problems? So far, none. Yes, the boy takes the occasional "header" into the floor from running, (even when I tell him to stop). Spank them? NEVER!! I never spanked my two daughters, why would I start now? Hell, I just give them old car parts, or motorcycle frames to play with if they get too rough!!

 

      They DO cut into my time in front of this thing, but that may be a good thing. My blood pressure has been up a little, but believe me, it sure ain't from stress! Hell, I spend most of the day laughing, and playing with them. I think this could not have come at a better time....................

Continued.....

.......Duncan was nothing like Vlad. No, you see, Vlad was a "pure blood". He was born as Vampyre. Duncan was "turned", or bitten as a human, and made into Vampyre. He was "new ", wild, untamed, and unrelenting when it came to his conquests.  He and Vlad had that much in common.

 

    But wait, we never learned the lady's name in all of this. You shall learn of her name soon. I want to keep her somewhat of a secret for now. I shall reveal all soon enough. When it is time, you shall know everything.

 

   But, back to Duncan. He was nouveauv riche. Newly rich. He made a killing in the dot. com bussiness, and jumped out before the crash. He drove only the finest cars, and dated only movie stars. But this woman was different to him. She was Vampyre, as was he. He had to have her.

 

     Duncan knew that she was Vlad's "property", his "turn". It was an unwritten rule that if a Male Vampyre turns a female human for himself, she was never to be touched by another Male Vampyre. Seems Vampyres are very territorial. It was for this reason that Duncan wanted this woman so badly.

 

    No Vampyre in history had gone against Vlad, and lived long enough to speak of it to another. It was rumored that Vlad was "the one", the "Master Vampyre". Duncan thought that maybe Vlad was getting a little....how should we say, "old hat"? Vlad made the rules for Vampyre, and they followed them. For Duncan, this was too hard to swallow. He wanted new rules, and a committee to oversee Vampyre business. He was tired of Vlad having the last word.

 

   Now, enter our Lady from the first page of this little tale....

Some Answers----almost

 OK, some have asked about the problems with my liver. Well, I went to see a specialist today, a month after the problem was found. The problem? It seems that my liver was throwing elevated enzyme levels on my last blood test. Since it took a month to get to see the specialist, I suggested that maybe the lab made a mistake? It has been a month, and nothing has changed with me.

 

   He totally agreed, and wanted to run a blood test of his own, stating that a serious problem would have manifested some symptoms by now. That was not the case with me. Looking at my tattoos, he suggested maybe Hepatitas. I told him that my last tattoo was nearly five (5) years ago. He said when he sees tattoos, he automatically thinks Hepatitas...so I have to wait for six weeks to find out anymore. Sorry guys, that is the best I can give you. I'm not worried, so none of you should be.

 

    On the homefront, the grandkids are giving me a run for my money, and then some! We have a blast everyday. I seem to always come up with something different for them to do in the daytime. They BOTH love to get into my tools, and "pretend" to fix things. Now, obviously, I don't let them have sharp tools, or large pointy objects! I do, however, let them use wrenches, pliers, clamps, and some old parts.

 

     Quit gasping in horror....these are "country kids", they are tough, and know just what the tools are for, or will before too long. I never turn my back on them, and they are always under my ever watchful eye. Hey, at least I haven't made them drink motor oil yet!!  Oh, shut up, I was just kiddin'!! Everyone KNOWS kids only drink window-washing fluid!!

 

  That is about it for today. I cherish my time here more now than ever before. I seem to get so much less time alone nowadays! On the plus-side, I think lots of time alone for me is a bad thing.....that dark corner of the mind that some of us retreat to sometimes can start to grow. And that is never a good thing.

      Look for me when you see me comin', and be nice to each other; Karma can be a real bitch sometimes!!!

 

  Holla' If You Hear Me!!!

The Darkness

...She sits, staring into the darkness. She is remembering a past life. It seems like so many lifetimes ago....so very long ago. She can see it in her mind's eye, just as if it were happening now. Has it really been so long ago? More than 500 years? It couldn't be!

 

    That night, so very long ago, she made a pact with the Dark Forces. It started out innocently enough; a quick affair with a stranger. In and out, break it off clean, get away quick, no one gets hurt. Yeah, they all start out that way....  She had been seeing him for just a week, her husband never knew, and never would know. She had plenty of practice. She had had many affairs before this one. But this one was different, strange. She couldn't put her finger on it, but it was there, all the same.

 

  This man was different. He had eyes that seemed to burn right through you. He knew her every thought. He knew just how to please her; no other man had ever did that, not so completely as he did. She knew she was falling in love...and she could not stop herself. She felt as though he touched her very soul. How could he do this?

 

    He was a Count, from Romania. Money was not an issue with him. He spent it like water flowing from your hands. He wore only the finest clothing, hand made of course. He told her his name was Count Vlad. She liked the sound of it, so much so that she could get used to hearing herself say it every day, and  she liked that, too.

 

   But, on that fateful night 500 years ago to the day, she made a decision; that night, she would become Vampyre, ruler of the night. Hunter of human prey. Never to see the sunlight again. Funny thing, though. Women can be fickle. And after 500 years with Vlad, she was thinking it was time for a change.

      She had a plan, a very good one, in fact. You see, it started as just a harmless affair with another Vampyre....you know, in and out, break it off clean, no one gets hurt. All that was about to change..................................to be continued.

 

       I searched the nether regions for my muse. I found her last week, and dragged her back, kicking and screaming. I told her of an idea that I had; she listened, and finally decided to help me....for more pay!  Damn Unions, everybody has one now!!

 

 EDITOR'S NOTE:  I can not be responsible for any fears that any of you may harbor toward the Dark Forces, as mentioned in this story, which is pure fiction..........or is it???