Monday, December 16, 2019

THE NAKED GIRL IN THE BEAR CLAW FOOT BATHTUB





I guess I knew who Frodo was back then, but I didn't think I'd see her naked, taking a bath in one of those old-time porcelain bathtubs with bear claws.
But there she was, Frodo, a naked girl who could have fallen out of a Botticelli painting.

The kitchen was right next to the bathroom.
All present in the apartment were as usual in the kitchen, waiting to eat, or preparing food, so we saw Frodo, and she saw us, with no shame or complaint.

She wasn't doing that much bathing.

Just sitting.

Soaking up the moment.

Richie was the name of her boyfriend.
He looked like a big mouse.
He had a long nose.
And like a mouse, he had whiskers that made him look like a mouse.
He even had a squeaky voice.
I couldn't figure out what Frodo saw in him.
Oh well, one doesn't always know what makes humans do what they do.

The main activity of Richie was growing his pot plants. I mean, I don't think he did anything else.
Well, he smoked cigarettes. And he complained all the time that there wasn't anything to eat. He never bought food, but he sure could eat the food of others.

Frodo and Richie were just one more scene from within the Boulder Bohemian apartment on Pearl Street where I lived off and on for a number of years.

The building had allegedly once been a brothel,
and the apartment where I lived was once in a flood, and under water.
There were quite a few floods in Boulder. The following years refer to the major floods in Boulder County’s recorded past as noted in Boulder’s Floods and Flood Management: Past & Present, City of Boulder 2016:
1844, Month unknown
1864, May and June
1876, May
1894, May
1897, June
1909, July
1914, June

One day Frodo and Richie left, going somewhere else.




IT'S ABOUT RENEWABLE RESOURCES AND THE NAKED GIRL IN THE BEAR CLAW FOOT BATHTUB






Saturday, November 23, 2019

UNICORN POOP




'By putting out cotton candy flavor and - what is it - unicorn poop flavor, look, this is a kid product and we have to put the kids first,' Mitt Romney argued. 







I quit smoking a long time ago.
Nicotine.

I stopped the pot smoking an even longer time ago.

But if I still smoked, I'd vape.

I'd grab that unicorn poop flavor pronto, and inhale the shi* out of it.


Literally inhale the poop out of it!


I just hope there's a picture of a unicorn on my vaping device.




IT'S ABOUT RENEWABLE RESOURCES AND UNICORN POOP


Friday, November 22, 2019

TURKEYS DON'T FLY







Although I don't fly much (turkeys don't either), I was glad to see that if I wanted to I could place my cooked turkey into a carry on luggage.

I don't want to do that.

I want to bring a live turkey.

*

My turkey, Sam, is my companion and service animal.
I am deathly afraid of dogs because of a childhood trauma event, which I won't go into.

Sam is quiet and respectful.
I would never eat him unless there was no more food after my plane crashed.

Gobble, gobble, gobble.




IT'S ABOUT RENEWABLE RESOURCES AND TURKEYS






'''''

Thursday, October 03, 2019

BREAKING NEWS





When I cannot stand listening to any more interminable, breaking news I switch to my Light Classical Baroque channel, or to the channel with Contemporary Instrumentals; but if I'm highly irritated by the steady drone of Cable news, I go to the channel with Hard Rock.
I don't drink or use drugs (except my diabetes and heart meds), or I would be dead by now.


IT'S ABOUT RENEWABLE RESOURCES AND BREAKING NEWS





Thursday, September 05, 2019

MR. SHARPIE AND TWEETOMANIA




The other three men look puzzled.  Do they think Trump is off his rocker?








I called up the folks at Sharpie and I said, “Do me a favor, can you make the pen in black?" Trump said. “Can you make it look rich?”



Donald Trump's signature is not indicative of a stable genius.

If your son or daughter had penmanship like his, what would you think?

Maybe Trump is afraid of earthquakes, and his signature is a seismic reflection of his fear.

Nonetheless, Trump's ego is alive and well.
At least alive.

His Sharpie pen has a mind of its own.
it goes where it wants to go, and Trump follows.

His sharpie doesn't tweet, so Trump must.

Trump has Tweetomania.

He would go nuts (more than he already is) if he couldn't tweet.



IT'S ABOUT RENEWABLE RESOURCES TWEETOMANIA AND MR. SHARPIE

Sunday, September 01, 2019

MISS LUCY AND MISTER HOMO

















In my eighth-grade art class I made a sculpture that resembled these recently found skulls.
Especially the full cranial reconstruction (on the right).

My mother thought I was Picasso or Rodin (I'm not sure she knew who Rodin was).

She loved my ugly, little sculpture that was supposed to be a self-portrait.
I think she discarded all my personal things except this one little sculpture.
Archaeologists will have to do some digging to find out where it is now.

Man's itch to find out his origins (and his rib-mate woman's origins) is never-ending.
I don't have this particular psoriasis.
I am more concerned with modern man and his existence right now---which seems more and more precarious.

Who really needs to know about Neanderthals or the evolution of Homo Sapiens when we have our Netflix and YouTube?



IT'S ABOUT RENEWABLE RESOURCES AND OLD BONES




Wednesday, August 21, 2019

THE CHOSEN ONE AND MORE CHOPPER TALK




There is something rotten in Denmark.
Denmark won't give me Greenland...I mean, sell me Greenland.
Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen is nasty.
Women can be, as they say, nasty.
They sometimes beat your behind with a magazine, and do other things.
If I can't have Greenland, then I'll just have to settle with Trumpland where there are a lot of greens, if you know what I mean.
No, I don't mean vegetables; I'm talking about the greens on a golf course.
I am the chosen one.
People have chosen me to lead them.
I lead---they follow.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
There was no collusion.




IT'S ABOUT RENEWABLE RESOURCES AND GREENLAND