Monday, October 31, 2005

Happy Halloween?

I love Halloween. I love taking the kids trick-or-treating, I love trick-or drinking (thanks, Contagion!), I thoroughly enjoy scaring older kids to tears, and there's just this primal, pre-Christian feeling about that I truly love.

Well, for the first time EVER, I had to miss it. I had every intention of asking for the night off, but you see, I, amadumbass.

When asked to fill in for the Day Porter at work (oh yeah, I didn't tell you: I'm a night custodian working in the schools as of 3 weeks ago.), I said, "Sure, I could use the overtime."

Yes. A dumbass.

I went in at 6 am. I got home 15 minutes ago. Sixteen hours. STRAIGHT!

Dumb. Ass.

I tried to make up for not being able to scare kids tonight by scaring kids at school, and while somewhat satisifying, it just wasn't the same, though I did get to break up no less than 3 fights during lunch hour in such a way as to cause the little darlings to have to go change their shorts.

One mohawk - sportin' kid asked me if today was The Devil's birthday. I looked as though I was thinking about it and said, "Ya know, I'm not sure. I'll ask him next time I see him." His eyes grew wide for about a half-second before he said, "Heeey!" I smiled and walked away.

Some really wierd shit happened as well, and it started right when I got to work.
The first was, I got a call on my radio from the office. It was "The Boss".

(Not my boss; "The Boss", as anyone in education knows, is The Secretary)

It seems someone broke her wall clock (which she fixed) and a picture frame (which was shattered) and left the jagged remains on the office counter. Now, the last people in the building were myself and the day porter; we went in on Saturday to change a TON of lights and to turn the clocks back.

(Yes, Saturday. DUMB. ASS.)

All I could honestly say was that if I or she (the DP) had broken them, we'd've left a note letting The Boss know. Was anyone in the building after us? No. Was the alarm set? Yes. Were all the doors locked? Yes. Did anyone bring their kids in over the weekend? Stupid question, but No.

We were at a complete and total loss.

About 2o minutes later, I get ANOTHER call on my radio: "Wes, come to the office, please."

(I still get a queasy feeling in my gizzard when I'm summoned to "the office".)

I get to the office to be confronted by a kindergarten teacher asking if I knew how her lamp got broken. She said the door was locked, and when she went into her room, she noticed her lamp was broken and did I know anything about it.

What could I say? "Honestly, I have no idea. Let me take a look at it." I follow her to her room and notice that yes, this is a room in which I turned the clock back, but in a corner away from the clock, there stood her broken lamp.

Now, I was expecting a knocked over lamp with glass on the floor. Nooo, the lamp was standing, but the five "branches" with the shades and bulbs on them were snapped in half!

What the hell?! What could I say to THAT? These people have GOT to be thinking that I'm breaking their shit, and I don't blame them! I would think I did it, too, if I didn't know that I didn't do it.

Whathebloodyhell'sthis?! Doors locked and secured, windows closed, alarm properly set, no message from the alarm company saying they were alerted?

I just don't know.

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

I F*cking Knew It!

Yeah, I knew the Sox won before I even heard it on the radio. I knew they were playing tonight, and I deduced from the sounds of fireworks and gunfire as I left work tonight that the White Sox, had indeed, won the World Series. Though not a Sox fan myself (I'm a casual fan of St. Louis, you know, that team that keeps on chokin'?), I have to say, "Congrats!"

At least it wasn't the Cubs.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

And Now. . . A Poem

This little literary gem was sent to me by my Dad. I hope you both enjoy it. Just forget the fact that it reads like he's yelling it - he's hard of hearing.

REDNECK LOVE POEM

SUSIE LEE DONE FELL IN LOVE;
SHE PLANNED TO MARRY JOE.
SHE WAS SO HAPPY 'BOUT IT ALL
SHE TOLD HER PAPPY SO.

PAPPY TOLD HER, "SUSIE GAL,
YOU'LL HAVE TO FIND ANOTHER.
I'D JUST AS SOON YER MA DON'T KNOW,
BUT JOE IS YER HALF BROTHER.

SO SUSIE PUT ASIDE HER JOE,
AND PLANNED TO MARRY WILL,
BUT AFTER TELLING PAPPY THIS,
HE SAID,"THERE'S TROUBLE STILL."

"YOU CAN'T MARRY WILL, MY GAL,
AND PLEASE DON'T TELL YER MOTHER,
BUT WILL AND JOE, AND SEVERAL MO'
I KNOW IS YER HALF BROTHER."

BUT MAMA KNEW AND SAID, "MY CHILD,
JUST DO WHAT MAKES YA HAPPY.
MARRY WILL OR MARRY JOE -
YOU AIN'T NO KIN TO PAPPY!"

Brought to you today by the letter X.

Saturday, October 22, 2005

And. . . Cue Crickets!

*chirp, chirp. chirp, chirp*

Why Not Another One?

This is a short one, played to the tune of "The Gallant Forty Twa", of which the Clancy Brothers do a great rendition (If you care to, YOU can look it up. C'mon, do I have to do EVERYTHING?) ;-)
Again, unfamiliar terms can be found here, except for "gutty boys" which is from the gutter, or thugs.

Black Watch

You've heard about the B-men, the cruel RUC,
You've heard about the Black and Tans, a plague on history,
But there’s another regiment the devil calls his own,
They’re known as the Black Watch, commisioned by the throne.

Chorus:
Strolling down the Falls Road with riot guns and gas.
Terrorising women as they're coming out of Mass.
A bunch of Scottish critters we never will forget.
Thank God we know the IRA sure aren't beaten yet.

These soldiers come from Scotland, a place you all know well,
From the hardest part of Glasgow, the gutty boys do dwell.
They're given a British uniform, they're given a British gun,
They joined a British regiment to have themselves some fun

Chorus:

When I grow up and marry and have a little son,
I’ll tell him of the regiment, the terrible things they've done.
And when that he grows older, becomes a man like me,
He'll become a volunteer and set old Ireland free!

Chorus 2x.

Sectarian Songs Continued

Ok, this one may take some splaining. Firstly, the tune's the same as "I've Got A Brand New Pair of Roller Skates" ("You've Got A Brand New Key"). And now, some definitions thanks to Wikipedia .

1. A Sarsen (sp) is an armored vehicle used by the Brits in the North of Ireland.
2. UDR = Ulster Defence Regiment.
3. RUC = Royal Ulster Constabulary.
4. SAS = Special Air Service, Britain's Spec. Ops.
5. DUP = Democratic Unionist Party, led by that paranoid bigot, Ian Paisley. (Hey, don't believe me? Check out his quotes on the same page. Loooony!)

And now. . . by "The Irish Brigade". . .

Kinky Boots

I drove my Sarsen through your garden last night
I kicked your front door down around at midnight
Something's telling me, boy, that your avoiding me
And when I find you, you will run for your tea.

Chorus:
I've got a brand new shiny helmet, and a pair of kinky boots.
I've got a lovely new flak jacket, and a lovely khaki suit.
And when we go on night patrol, we hold each other's hand,
For we are the British Army, and we're here to take your land.

My good friend Bertie, he's in the UDR.
To search for weapons he will go near and far.
Up around by Kappa, you'd never find him there.
The only gun he'll get there is an Armalite in his ear!

Chorus

My good friend Trevor, he's in the RUC.
But now they've handed him his redundancy.
Folks along the border won't be seeing him any more,
That provo sniper will be missing him for sure!

Chorus

My good friend Nigel, he's in the SAS.
He says a child is just as good as the rest.
Now they've gone and posted him way down to Crossmaglen,
He wishes to blazes, he was back in jail again!

Chorus

My good friend Sammy, he's in the DUP.
An upstanding member, as all the world can see.
I said, "Go up to Donegal, if you want to have some fun."
He said, "I'll take a run there, if I have nothing on."

Chorus

Thursday, October 20, 2005

What Fresh Hell Is This?

Ever heard of the "Backyardagins"? Baby Boy's watching it right now. These little cute, animated creatures are singing about being castaways. You know, shipwreck victims?! I'm waiting for the happy cannibalism song, or anything having to do with dying painfully of exposure, or dehydration. Maybe shark attack?
It's all being sung to samba music. It's quite cheerful, really. Makes me want to scuttle a cruise ship.

"I will die, I will die,
Then my meat you will fry,
Try my liver, try my kidney, try my rump roast or thigh."

And I thought Dora was twisted!

Crap and corruption!!! She's up next! Fucking Shoot. Me. Now!

Monday, October 10, 2005

Folk Ballads CAN Save Your Life!

A very good friend and former band-mate sent this to me from Making Light, found here (http://nielsenhayden.com/makinglight/archives/006448.html#006448)
It's long, but bear with it - it's worth the time. Oh, and there's a quiz at the end, so no cheating!

Things I’ve learned from British folk ballads

Don’t ignore warnings. If someone tells you to beware of Long Lankin, friggin’ beware of him.

If someone tells you not to go by Carterhaugh, stay away.

Same goes for your mother asking you not to go out hunting on a particular day.
Portents about weather, particularly when delivered by an old sailor who is not currently chatting up a country maid, are always worth heeding.

If someone says that he’s planning to kill you, believe him.

If someone says he’s going to die, believe him.

Avoid navigable waterways. Don’t let yourself be talked into going down by the wild rippling water, the wan water, the salt sea shore, the strand, the lowlands low, the Burning Thames, and any area where the grass grows green on the banks of some pool. Cliffs overlooking navigable waterways aren’t safe either.

Broom, as in the plant, should be given a wide berth.

Stay away from the greenwood side, too.

Avoid situations where the obvious rhyme-word is “maidenhead.”

If you look at the calendar and discover it’s May, stay home.

The flowing bowl is best quaffed at home.
Don’t drink with strangers.
Don’t drink alone.
Don’t toss the cups or pass the jar about in bars where you haven’t arranged to keep a tab.
Drinks of unusual or uncertain provenance should be viewed askance, especially if you’re offered them by charming members of the opposite sex.
Finally, never get drunk and pass out in a bar called the “Cape Horn.”

Members of press gangs seldom tell the truth.

Recruiting sergeants will fib to you shamelessly. They are not your friends, even if they’re buying the drinks. Especially when they’re buying the drinks.

If you’re drinking toasts, mention your One True Love early and often.

If you’re a young lady, dressing yourself in men’s array and joining the army or the navy has all sorts of comic possibilities, but you yourself aren’t going to find it too darned humorous at the time.

If you are an unmarried lady and have sex, you will get pregnant. No good will come of it.

If you are physically unable to get pregnant due to being male, the girl you had sex with will get pregnant.
No good will come of it.
You’ll either kill her, or she’ll kill herself, or her husband/brother/father/uncle/cousin will kill you both.
In any case her Doleful Ghost will make sure everyone finds out. You will either get hanged, kill yourself, or be carried off bodily by Satan.
Your last words will begin “Come all ye.”

Going to sea to avoid marrying your sweetie is an option, but if she hangs herself after your departure (and it’s even money that she’s going to) her Doleful Ghost will arrive on board your ship and the last three stanzas of your life will purely suck.

If you are a young gentleman who had sex it is possible the girl won’t get pregnant. In those rare instances you will either get Saint Cynthia’s Fire or the Great Pox instead. No good will have come of it.

New York Girls, like Liverpool Judies, like the ladies of Limehouse, Yarmouth, Portsmouth, Gosport, and/or Baltimore, know how to show sailors a good time, if by “good time” you mean losing all your money, your clothes, and your dignity.
Note: All of these places are near navigable waterways. In practical terms this means that if you’re a sailor you’re screwed (and so are any young ladies you happen to meet).
See also: Great Pox; Doleful Ghost.

If you are a young lady do not allow young men into your garden.
Or let them steal your thyme.
Or agree to handle their ramrods while they’re hunting the bonny brown hare.
Cuckoo’s nests are right out. And never stand sae the back o’ yer dress is up agin the wa’ (for if ye do ye may safely say yer thing-a-ma-jig’s awa’).

Never let a stranger teach you a new game. No good will come of it.

Sharing a boyfriend with your sister is a bad plan.

Having more than one True Love at a time is a non-starter.

If you’re a brunette, give up.

Not that being a blonde will improve the odds much.

If your name is Janet, change it.

If you are a young lady and an amorous soldier, sailor, ploughboy, blacksmith, cavalry officer, or other young man fails to stop the first time you tell him he’s being too bold, knock off the maidenly protests and take more direct measures. If saying “no” the first time didn’t stop him, you’ve no reason to believe that twice will work any better.

Professions to be particularly wary of: clerks, salty sailors, serving maids, blacksmiths, highwaymen, gamblers, rank robbers, stonemasons, soldiers, tinkers, and millers. Anyone described as “jolly,” “bold,” or “saucy.”

Supernatural creatures are best avoided. If they can’t be avoided, they should be addressed respectfully. If a supernatural creature sets you a task you’re well and truly screwed.

If you are a young lady and a soldier promises to “marry you in the morn,” it means he’s already married.
And has kids.
And he’s not going to marry you anyway.
Even if you’re pregnant.
Which you will be.

If you’re a young unmarried lady with child, and your pregnancy embarrasses or inconveniences someone else, consider yourself a sitting duck.

Don’t meet with your young gentleman alone, or at odd hours, or in isolated locations, even if he says he’s taking you to be married. Next thing you know your Doleful Ghost will be telling your mother all about it. While he may say “Come all ye….” in the last stanza or two this will be small comfort.

Young ladies who feel uneasy should always act on their feelings. If in your good opinion you fear some young man (however handsome, rich, and well-spoken) is some rake, depend upon it: He’s a rake. Rakes will protest that you have them all wrong. They’ll be fibbing. Never go anywhere with a rake, particularly to isolated spots.
See above: Doleful Ghost.

If you are a young lady and someone arrives to tell you that your boyfriend was slain on a foreign battlefield, take it with a grain of salt. Especially if you’re carrying a broken token.

If a former significant other turns up unexpectedly after a long absence, don’t throw yourself into his/her arms right away.

That goes double if they refuse to eat anything.

Triple if they turn up at night and want you to leave with them immediately.

Have nothing to do with former boyfriends who turn up and say it’s no big deal that you’re now married to someone else and have a child.
If their intentions are legit, that’s got to be a problem. If it’s not a problem, their intentions are not legit.

You are justified in cherishing the direst suspicions of a suddenly and unexpectedly returned significant other who mentions a long journey, a far shore, or a narrow bed, or who’s oddly skittish about the imminent arrival of cockcrow.

If you are a young lady and you meet a young man who says his name is “Ramble Away,” don’t be surprised if, by the time you know you’re pregnant, it turns out he’s moved and left no forwarding address.

A fellow who’s a massively accomplished flirt hasn’t been spending his time sitting around waiting for his One True Love to come along. Furthermore, odds are poor that you’ll turn out to be his One True Love who will reform him.

If you arrange an assignation with your new sweetie, a little foot page will be listening in and will carry the news to exactly the last person you’d want to hear the story.

If your girlfriend insists that you go back to sleep after some odd sound woke you, it’s time to dive out the window and run for the hills right then.

If you’re hiding in the hills, don’t inform anyone exactly where you’re sleeping, particularly not an attractive member of the opposite sex.

If your girlfriend serves eels in eel broo, make sure you see her eat some first.

Informing your current significant other that you’re about to be wed to someone else is … risky.
Even if you’re doing it as a joke, or to test their love.
Especially if you’re doing it as a joke or to test their love.
Testing someone’s love in general isn’t too bright.

Not even sending a talking goshawk to tell your significant other that the engagement is off will not help you. You’re going to find yourself at the bottom of a well full fifty fathoms deep.
A Doleful Ghost may get involved.

If, after you inform your current significant other that you’re to be wed to someone else, he or she suggests that the two of you meet in some lonely spot for one last fling, do not go.

Inviting your old flame to your wedding is a bad idea.

If your old flame invites you to his/her wedding, leave town.

If your old flame shows up uninvited at your wedding, start eyeing the exits. There’s a chance he/she is a Doleful Ghost. Be that as it may, no good will come of it.

If you’re out hunting, make sure of your sight picture before you pull the trigger/loose your bow. Especially so if you’re near a navigable waterway or the greenwoodside.

Do not allow the words “I wish” to pass your lips.

Avoid oaths, particularly when you’re near navigable waterways or the greenwoodside.

If the jailer indicates his willingness to take your gay gold ring to carry a message to your sweetheart, see if he’ll take that same gay gold ring to leave the door open and look the other way for five minutes while you or the sweetheart (as appropriate) escape.

Always use the buddy system. “Bare is brotherless back,” as Grettir the Strong put it; and if Grettir was worried about going places alone, you’d better worry too. So bring a friend with you. Friends keep bad things from happening. If things go badly anyway, you’ll need their help. And if things go well (hey, it could happen), it’ll be nice to have a friend along to share the laughs.

Moving to America for a minute:
Do not, for any reason, mess with a man’s Stetson hat or a man who is wearing a Stetson.

Pop quiz!

You are a beautiful young lady named Janet. On the first of May you meet a man in a patch of broom down by the greenwoodside. He invites you to his home on the far side of the sea, and earnestly entreats you to keep his invitation secret from your parents. The ship is leaving right away, this very night!
What should you do?

A) Woo hoo, sounds like fun! You’ll go, have a great time, and return home happy, healthy, and with some great gossip for your chums.

B) You blow loudly on a police whistle and run home as if jet-propelled. You tell mom and dad what just went down, put on a Stetson, and load your forty-four caliber revolver with silver bullets.

C) You decide that it would save everyone concerned a great deal of trouble if you skipped ahead a bit and hanged yourself right now. Your Doleful Ghost informs mom of the situation.

D) Rather than go with him you disguise yourself as a man and join the Army. Next time you’re marching through the Lowlands Low you seduce a beautiful young lady. She is so amazed to discover that she isn’t pregnant that she hangs herself. Her Doleful Ghost gets confused and drives the young man you met down by the greenwoodside mad. He delivers a long speech that begins “Come all ye wild and roving lads a warning take by me….”

Friday, October 07, 2005

A New Little Somethin' Special

This is something I'm gonna call, "Sectarian Song of the Month", or "Erin Go Bragh!", I'm not certain which yet.

Those who know me, know that I like Irish rebel songs. If they offend you, tough, I like singin' 'em! I recently came across lyrics of fairly modern IRA songs, and since this is My House, I'll share 'em with yas.


MY LITTLE ARMALITE
(tune: Home, boys, home)

And it's down in the Bogside, that's where I long to be,
lying in the dark with a Provo company,
with a comrade on me left and another one on me right
and a clip of ammunition for my little armalite.

I was stopped by a soldier, said he, "You are a swine!"
he hit me with his rifle and he kicked me in the groin
I begged and I pleaded, sure me manners were polite,
but all the time I'm thinking of my little armalite.

And it's down in Crossmaglen, that's where I long to be,
lying in the dark with a Provo company,
with a comrade on me left and another one on me right
and a clip of ammunition for my little armalite.

Sure a brave RUC man came marching up our street,
six hundred British soldiers he had lined up at his feet.
"Come out, ye cowardly Fenians, come on out and fight."
But he cried, "I'm only joking!", when he heard the armalite.

Sure it's down in Kilwilkie, that's where I long to be,
lying in the dark with a Provo company,
with a comrade on me left and another one on me right
and a clip of ammunition for my little armalite.

Sure, the army came to visit me, 'twas in the early hours,
with Saladins and Saracens and Ferret armoured cars.
They thought they had me cornered, but I gave them all a fright
with the armour-piercing bullets of my little armalite.

And it's down in the Falls Road, that's where I long to be,
lying in the dark with a Provo company,
with a comrade on me left and another one on me right
and a clip of ammunition for my little armalite.

When Pryor came to Belfast, said he, "The battle's won",
the generals, they have told him, "We've got them on the run."
But corporals and privates, when on patrol at night
said, "Send for reinforcements, it's the bloody armalite!"

And it's up in Ballymurphy, that's where I long to be,
lying in the dark with a Provo company,
with a comrade on me left and another one on me right
and a clip of ammunition for my little armalite.


Hopefully soon, I'll be able to fix it so you can actually hear what it's supposed to sound like, but that's all I got for now.

Slainte!

A Special Day This Month

My brother-in-all-but-blood, ChemicalNova, has a birthday this month -- the 8th, to be exact.

There are very few people in the world with whom I've ever been closer than Chem. We've known each other since the 4th Grade, have shared great times as well as truly shitty ones, and I'm proud to say that he's the best friend I've ever had.

Lately, Chem's informed me of certain goings - on in his life; he's getting good marks in school, he's happy and content in his job, and, most importantly, he's met someone (I happen to think) who is more than special to him. I haven't seen him this happy to be alive in ages, and I pray things only get better for him!

So "Cheers!" ChemicalNova. Happy Birthday to ya, my brother!

So Much For ToH

All year long, I was looking forward to going to the Trail of History rendezvous in Glacial Park, McHenry County. I got Thursday through Saturday off at work, had a sitter lined up to watch the kids, and everything turns to complete and utter SHITE! My folks aren't able to come up to watch the kids, as they're taking care of a sick friend in their house.

Oh well, nothing I can do about it. Life just keeps on a' suckin'!