I’ve been rather busy running up and down the Parkway between two houses and trying to remember what stuff is where. As such, I barely have the time or energy for an update, but here ‘tis:
The House by the Parkway (North) will be listed for sale, probably next week. If any of youse are interested in buying what will most certainly become an historic site (“Jimbo blogged hereâ€), please let me know. If you buy the joint, I’ll throw in a selection of excellent booze.
I finally received a quote for the repairs and restoration work to be done on my beloved Gibson dreadnaught. As I expected, the work will cost approximately five or six time what I paid for the guitar back in 1964, but it is money well spent. That guitar and I came together when we were both young, and it has served me well on the many roads we’ve traveled as we’ve grown old together.
My father, also a guitar player and singer, always said to me, “Son, if you can play guitar, you’ll have friends no matter where you go.†Of course, he was right. It turns out that he always was right, even though there were times when I was young and “smart” and believed that he was always wrong. I’m happy to say he lived long enough for me to tell him that I wasn’t so goddamned smart after all, and that he was always right.
Now if I could just get the Gibson peeps to repair and restore my sorry ass.
Behold what was delivered today to the new House by the Parkway, Farther South.
I suppose you can guess what the next project will be. The good news is that we had someone measure the windows to have these babies made, and the same person will hang this veritable shitload of blinds. I want nuttin’ to do with it, as I would screw it up for sure. Blinds hung with duct tape would not be very cool.
To quote a friend, “Living in two houses and not really living in either one can get pretty old.” True, dat.
Nobody captures the essence of the Seaside Heights Boardwalk in photos better than Lynne. All the photos are excellent, but the ones that really knocked me out are those of the carousel animals. Go HERE, then click the link to the boardwalk pics.
Enjoy.
The best part for us Jersey Peeps is that we can recognize damned near exactly where every pic was taken. We grew up “walking the boards†in Seaside Heights.
Lynne brings it all to life, in spades. Looking at the pictures, I can smell the fries with vinegar and the unmistakable aroma of sausage, peppers and onions frying on the bigass griddles up and down the boardwalk.
I’ve been reading Dax’s blog ever since I started this one in 2002. I met Dax in 2004 at an infamous blogmeet in Helen, Georgia and have seen him several times since then. Dax has also has done a bit of pickin’ with me and Denny (the “younger” half of the Elderly Brothers). Good guy.
Dax has a new domain, and he states the reason for the change here. So to keep up with Dax Montana, please update your blogrolls/bookmarks/rss feeds to http://www.justdamn.com. Do it now.
This site is again experiencing a spam attack. You peeps don’t see it, but the behind-the-scenes battle is furious. It is like dealing with a swarm of locusts. One of the downsides of the information age is that some drooling troglodyte, with the click of a mouse, can essentially barge into thousands (more like millions) of cyber homes and shit on the carpets.
May every gottdamned one of them die a slow, painful death.
Still bereft of the desire or ability (assuming I ever had any) to string more than a couple sentences together, I thought I would share the following video, which shows a guy doing an imitation of a dick with legs being positively giddy upon having successfully wiggled himself into a giant prophylactic-colored balloon.
I suppose it also could remind one of a sperm with legs and a tee shirt trying to pierce an ovum.
My friend Mike, the computer maven, sent me the test, observing that it might make for a more interesting post than yet another “staring at a blank page†post, such as I offered yesterday. He’s certainly right about that.
Take the test here. Remember, think before you answer.
I read a bunch of blogs and surfed the web for a while searching for some bloggy inspiration. Then I sat here for fifteen minutes staring at a blank page, and it continued to stare back at me. I’d say the blank page won the stare down.
I blame The One and the rogues and punks he surrounds himself with for wounding my muse.
