Saturday, August 29, 2009


The only photographic evidence of her existence, prior to me, was a blurry shot of a blond headed girl of about four, opening a Christmas present. Though I thought this odd, I didn't question it. I was in love and though I felt cheated not being able to look into her past, I did not take it to heart.

Laura and I were at a party at Judy's house one night. She was three years younger than I and had gone to a different Highschool. Someone brought out a yearbook. I wanted to see my baby's school picture. She began to cry.

"If you look at that", she screamed, "I will never speak to you AGAIN!"

Wow. Girl's and their pictures! Who knew?

School pics can be as bad as drivers license photo's. Okay. I got that. There have been shots of me that I felt didn't flatter and i won't volunteer them to others. This 5'7", 117 pound, platinum haired beauty of mine had a right to be vain. I wouldn't judge her based on a bad photo. I had the real thing, in living beauty before me. I did not look at the yearbook.

Yes, it was odd that there were no family pictures of her. Her half-brother, Jim, had a photo studio at the time. There were plenty of current photo's of her, their other brother and sister and the parents. Just nothing prior to her 16th birthday. I come from a large family. There is photographic evidence of me and my six siblings from birth to today. My current FB profile pic shows me at age five. I'm still a cutie. That pic just portended my handsomeness...

Since I hadn't peeked at the pic that night at Judy's, Laura did not leave me. We dated for three years, married and divorced after about two years. That's a story for another day.

It was a few years after the divorce that I met Leslie, a girl who I worked with and who, it turned out, had grown up next door to Laura. Small world I thought. I knew the address, knew the house but hadn't recalled meeting Leslie back then. So, you knew Laura M, I asked.

"Yeah", she snarled, "I knew that fat, ugly pig!"

No. Perhaps she was mistaken. Maybe she meant Barb, Laura's not so attractive sister? My ex was thin, blond and very good looking. Barb, not so much. Perhaps Leslie was jealous. Maybe Laura had stolen a boy from her in school?

"That fat pig couldn't get any guy!" she declared.

Well, she had gotten ME! What was this 'fat, ugly, pig' business all about? I wasn't fond of Laura at this point in my life but, fair is fair. This had been a beautiful, desirable young woman. How could Leslie be so bitter and so wrong?

"Did you know she had a nose job?" Leslie offered.

This was incredible. Thin, blond and good looking as she was, the one thing you could physically disparage about Laura was her nose. It was a bit big. Just a bit. If she had had a nose job, I argued, it would have resulted in a cute, perky slightly turned up nose a la say, Meg Ryan. I told Leslie she was crazy. She told me she would bring in the yearbook the following evening.

Well, I'll be damned. Her picture didn't speak a thousand words, it spoke ten thousand. And then some. And most of those words would be followed by question marks.

Why, how, did this woman look so dramatically different from the age of 15 to 16? I looked at her and I saw Barb and their father. She had a nose that only a potato farmer could love. She seemed hulkish in the photo. Fat. I could understand the hair not being platinum. How many true blonds are there? I never cared about that. This had been one of the best kept secrets of the 20th century. In five years with this woman, no one had slipped up. They would talk about her beauty but never in "as compared to..." terms. Nobody had seen fit to mock her former self until Leslie even though hundreds of people, like Leslie, had known the before Laura as well as the after.

To Leslie, Laura would always be the 'before'- the "fat, ugly, pig!" No amount of plastic surgery could change that.

I was in shock. How could I have not known? Mind you- this was the one who had ripped out my heart, shown it to me and hoped I died. I could have laughed. I could have snickered. I could have gotten the last relationship word with this revelation. Fuck you pig!

What I got was closure. This had tied up the rise and fall of our love into a bundle that I could now stow away. NOW, I understood.

That July 3rd evening when I first laid eyes on the leggy, tanned blond might as well have been her birthday. The old Laura ceased to exist that night. In her mind. I met the new improved Laura- the only Laura there had EVER been- that night. All the taunts, childish abuse from her peers, never happened that night she met the handsome, GTO driving Ferrerman. She had the wonderfull, attentive boyfriend she had cried herself to sleep dreaming of, countless nights before. Life was new and good just as it had always been...

The horrible, emotional things she did to me- I now knew why. I quit taking them personally after that. It wasn't personal. She was purging herself. You can change your nose, your hair, boobs and face. Whatever. You cannot change your soul.  You can let your 'looks' change you....

I haven't seen her in close to thirty years. Perhaps she aged well, perhaps not. But, I have to believe, her soul is as ugly as the day she was 'born'.

I like to think not. I'm still a romantic at heart.

Monday, August 24, 2009

The War Against Introverts

A couple of seasons ago, FOXNEWS brought us the War On Christmas. The brilliant minds there got together and decided that, since some stores opted to wish "Happy Holidays" and "Seasons's Greetings" to customers instead of "Merry Christmas" and "Happy Birthday Jesus", Democrats hated Xmas.

Now we have Barak Obama's "War To Turn America Into Communist Russia Or China And Kill All Of Us That He Doesn't Just Enslave In FEMA 'Camps'". Or, what is also called, his "First Term".

Now we also have "Ferrerman's War Against Introverts".

None of these wars were or are actual wars like the world has come to know wars in the past couple of thousand years. Each are political and/or media driven slights of hand to deflect the public's attention from what is actually going on in the world and what the powers behind these wars actually want to accomplish. FOXNEWS seems to think that they will help America by working to destroy- at all costs- the presidency of Barak Obama. They are doing this for the good of America, to protect America and to make the White House safe again for Republican Presidents. Good luck with that you patriots you. Nothing says "I LOVE MY COUNTRY!" like those who want to destroy it for it's own good. Why, it's what the founders had in mind...

But, enough about the rise and fall of the Obama empire. Whatever happens with that, happens and America will go on. Unless FOX get's nuclear weapons...

There is no war against introverts. You might have heard that elsewhere. Ferrerman is not at war against introverts. Never has been, never will be. Ferrerman IS at war with ninnies and some dregs and some of these people do claim to be introverts but, unless you're a ninnie or a dreg, this should not cause you alarm. If you are shy or quiet, Ferrerman does not wish to mock or scorn you. Truth be told, Ferrerman is somewhat shy and quiet himself. Ferrerman has been mocked and scorned for being quiet himself and didn't care for that. Loud obnoxious people have generally been the one's to do this. Ferrerman does not enjoy the company of these types of people and chooses to avoid them.

Kinda sounds like Ferrerman is an introvert, doesn't it? No. Won't go that far. Can't go that far. I don't care for labels and I am, by nature, not a joiner. I can't blindly buy into any philosphy or join a fraternity or sorority that would demand that I do. I can't go along with the crowd. Nearly a year ago I was asked to join the "regulars", those that regularly post in the Amy/Abby threads and, at the time, in other threads they called their own. They liked my writing and my irreverent wit. I was new to the internet and Topix and I wondered how you could "join" a group on a public forum where anyone was free to post. I just didn't get that. I and thousands of others could post or not post as we chose. I was told I would receive protection from trolls. If trolls attacked, regs would come to defend me.

What? I can handle that by myself. I can either fight back or ignore and move on to another thread. It's the internet, not the streets of Chicago's west side. A gun forum or a stupid birther thread is nothing I can't handle myself. Truth be told, i've rarely had a "troll" follow me around. Recently one of the dregs has been trolling me but, that's different. It's not "trolling" when they do it. So I've been told...

I've come to realize that the "protection" that they offer is protection from them. They are no different from any gang in any city in the country in that they offer family where their might be none and protection whether it is necessary or not. The mean streets of reality can be rough. Kids join gangs that beat on them with the understanding that those beatings stop once they join and future beatings by others will be answered for,,,by the gang. You're either with us or against us because it's "us" against "them".

I'm the "them" here. I've seen dozens of posts in multiple threads where people- especially those who might be "introverts"- have been warned to fear me. Me personally as the who I am in real life and me as the "ex-ferrer" the "Ferrerman" and any of my known and unknown "troll names". People have even been told to fear those who WERE NOT me but had similar ISP's or irreverent wit. Ferrerman, Master of Disguise that he must be, could be anyone, anywhere at anytime. BE AFRAID! Especially be afraid if you are an INTROVERT. He eats innies for breakfast! Then he snacks on innnies while pondering what innies to have for dinner!

I am not against introverts. I have no magical internet powers. The ninnies do and one of them has used her magical power to troll my name and even a replica avatar to incite anti-ferrer sentiment among the great un-washed. She spent a weekend trolling my name and a few others to wage a war against her and the introverts. I didn't even have to show up. But, I did. At least long enough to show that it wasn't me posting under all those names. Watching terri that day was like watching "Fight Club". Very strange. Her friends all knew she was doing this. They approved. It wasn't Ferrer fighting with her but it "could" have been...

Folks, if you are shy and quiet and don't like loud parties- I hear ya. If you like imaginary bubble tea parties on the internet, I think you're silly. I respect your right to be silly though. I cannot and will not reach through the intertubes, rip off your head and poop down your neck for this. I am not your enemy. There is no war. I am not the boogieman.


See? I'm not scary. I just want to be left alone.

You'd think that introverts would understand that...

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Gimme five minutes

I am a combat ready painter. I can be dropped behind enemy lines with one or two good men and nothing but a brush and a PO number for Sherwin Williams and I will get the job done. Men who have been wise enough to know this have hired me to work for them. Others, who could not see this, did not last long with me.

Donnie Silver was one of those who could not see this. Donnie already had a crusty old combat veteran in his employ, Old Sam, and he did not acknowlege the genius and talent of Sam who was a legend in Memphis. Sam had worked for everyone as I seemingly had and it was odd that though we had worked for so many of the same people and knew the same painters, our paths had only briefly crossed once. My buddy Kip had introduced us a few years earlier.

"THIS" he said proudly, "is Sammy R!" Kip might as well have been introducing me to the Prince of Bulgaria. I didn't care. Neither did Sammy. Whatever he was doing at the time, he stuck his head up just long enough to say "hey" and went back to doing whatever he was doing.

Sammy hung vinyl for Donnie Silver. Donnie was the biggest vinyl hanger in Memphis and lest he or anyone else forget this fact, he would mention it six or twenty times a day. Silver was branching out into painting and he needed me to help Sam help him become the next biggest commercial painting contractor in Memphis. Part of the deal was, with me being well known in town, I needed to keep my employment on the QT since most of the companies I had worked for knew me and hired Silver to hang their vinyl. Donnie was plotting to take all their painting business away from them and he didn't want to tip his hand and endanger his vinyl hanging business.

The idea of being a top-secret, ninja painter appealed to me for about 3 seconds. The idea of a good paycheck appealed to me a lot longer. I agreed to keep the secret.

That evening, Kip and I were drinking beer on my back porch.

"I've got a new job" I said, "But, it's top secret and, if I told you, I'd have to kill you".

Kip didn't even look up from his Budweiser. He said "Okay".

So, I told him the details.

"You know he's a fucking idiot, don't ya?"

I knew that. I agreed. Kip told me that Donnie had asked him on a job once, while Kip was rolling a wall out, why painters didn't roll side to side. Why do they roll up and down?

This wasn't merely a stupid question. This was insanity. Anyone who has ever painted a wall knows you roll up and down. It is, how you do it. Nevermind there are reasons 'why'. To cut to the chase, rolling sideways is just plain stupid. Try it if you don't believe me. Do it all day. I hope you know a chiropractor and have deep pockets. Next you can check the level of gas in your tank with a cigarette lighter.

Donnie wanted to re-invent painting even though he never exactly said so. He told Sam how to do things. He told me how to do things. Sam had learned to be patient with him. I had not. Bosses in the past had tried to tell me the wrong way to do things and then been kind enough to go away and allow me to do the job right. Donnie intended to be more hands on. The first night I worked for him (Sam could not work nights because he liked to be drunk by supper) Donnie handed me a bag of 5minute quickset, a mudpan and a knife and a map of 20 offices on four floors that had pin-hole divots in them that needed to be filled. I told him that we needed spackle for this. He told me this was "faster". But, it's not, I protested. Humor me, he ordered.

I should have figured out that night that humoring him was what I had been hired to do. He was as serious about tilting at the windmills of commercial painting as Don Quixote but about as prepared for it as well. Five minute mud sets rock hard in five minutes, ergo, the catchy name. It's a powder that you mix with water until you get it just right and then you hurry your ass to use it before it sets up...inside of five minutes. I should have left the building that night and never looked back. The guy had just so complicated a simple task in his quest for speed. He was a nut. And, though it drove me nuts, I got the job done. Donnie was one of those "time is money" guy's that was always looking for a competitive edge to save money no matter what it cost him. I was one of those guys who just needed a paycheck.

I think I lasted two months with him. He continued to have insane "fast" ideas about things that took time to do no matter what. Most of them seemed to be about five-minute mud.

"If they sold one minute mud" Sammy said "Donnie would buy it".

He knew Donnie was an idiot. Sammy knew that quickset dries by a chemical reaction. He and I had both tried to explain this to Donnie but, what did we know? Though we both were experienced painters, neither Sammy nor I were the biggest vinyl hangers in Memphis. Who were we to talk? Donnie always wanted to put box fans blowing on his five minute mud to make it dry faster. Sigh. Until they invented one minute mud, that would have to do. Until then, quickset would not dry by chemical reaction but by fans.

So, I put up with Donnie's insanity because it was like a bad movie that I knew sucked but was still curious as to how it ended. The bad movie ended one night on a job at a bank. Donnie was his usual scatter-brained self. He had two more of his non-painting vinyl hangers on the job and both Bo and The Other Sam were longtime employees of his and thus, over me. Donnie couldn't make up his mind about what he wanted me to do. he had given me 3 different assignments inside of five minutes. You could watch mud dry in that time...

Bo had his ideas as well. Sammy was home passed out. The Other Sam was smoking a joint or slamming a forty. Maybe both. I got a little cranky.

"Hard to believe you've been divorced twice, Ferrerman!" Donnie snickered.

"I don't get along too well with bitches", I replied.

I thought we were gonna go at that. I kinda hoped we would. But that went right over Donnie's head. He was talking marriages and I was talking him. He finally lined everybody out and went off to see a play he did not care to see, with his wife. I'm sure he took the director aside and edumacated him on how to streamline his play. I'm sure he explained to the director that he was the biggest vinyl hanger in Memphis.

Later that even, Bo laid me off, as per Donnie's instructions. I was not unhappy about this. It was the price I needed to pay for not quitting that night two months earlier. I stayed for the end of the movie. I should have listened to the reviews and never walked into the theatre.

Last I heard of Donnie, he was back on crack and booze. His wife had kicked him out. I don't know if the crack or the divorce happened first but, it was all over for him. He had been a bad drunk and drug addict for years before getting straight and becoming the biggest vinyl hanger in Memphis and he's one of those people who are either/or when it comes to vices. Either he stops completely or he goes all out. My buddy, Tim, saw him at his company Xmas party. Donnie was pointed out to him by another painter. The crack diet had cost him some 80 pounds as well as his home and family.

"That's Donnie Silver!" the guy said. "He used to be the biggest vinyl hanger in town!"

This doesn't please me to know this, even now. I couldn't have helped the guy even if I had been there to try. Some people just won't listen. They get too big for their own damn good.

I need to get back into combat soon.

Friday, August 21, 2009


I've gotten a lot of comments lately in this venue about a few of my recent blogs. I use comment moderation for a variety of reasons. It's convenient and it gives me control over what is, well, MY blog. Plus it pisses off people like the girl who INSISTS that I publish her taunts even though half of those (there were six) included my actual name and the name of a friend of mine. As if these people cannot create enough trouble on their own, they DEMAND that I help them.

I don't mind criticism even if it's not constructive. Certain people are not going to like what I write regardless of what I write. That's life.

I see it as incongruous though that some people would like to condemn my censoring of their comments yet they opt to make these comments anonymously. I think these people are pussies for doing this. Although, having said that, a couple may not be gifted in the comment leaving process and actually not know how to sign in. I understand that. And, true, some people might choose to remain anonymous on this forum because they fear retribution from my enemies one of which went so far as to post on multiple threads that anyone posting on those Topix threads without an avatar was subject to hijacking of their screen name. Well, she warned them... And me too. My name was hijacked by a ninnie and my avatar was also hijacked by that same ninnie and, yes, they can do that again. In fact, on a new, young bloggers blog I noticed that (likely the same ninnie) posted to the young lady as "ex-ferrer". The kid took the bait. Welcome to the blog world, kid. Those are your friends. But, you already knew that...

Now, I read that blog and looked at others because I'm as vain as the next guy. Wait. Check that. Is the next guy that irrational fella? I could never be that vain. I could never write about doing my girl, in a public forum. I'd have more respect for her than that. Well, that's just me. And, I thought I might read interesting things about me. I did not.

Anyway, I noticed that some of these blogs were 'invitation only'. I have to suspect that some of my anonymous commenters also have these invitation only blogs. Hmmm. I'm called "cowardly" for not blindly allowing comments to my blog by people who post comments anonymously and may or may not have blogs of their own that are invitation only. Pot, meet silver chalice. Glass house, meet rock.

No one is expected to 'sign' their Christian name to these blogs. Screen names would suffice. There is a difference between those who choose to praise ferrerman but don't wish to incur the wrath of ninnies and dregs and those that are pussies. I understand and will protect the anonymity of those innocent people. I already have. Turns out, it's necessary.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Theatre of the Absurd

Of course I know how funny this is. I have the ability in life to take a step back and look at what is happening to someone and think about how I would react if what was happening to them, was happening to me. I don't take a lot of what I see at face value. Fifty two years of life have taught me that little is what it appears to be. Like journalists are told, "If your mother says she loves you, check your sources..."

Yes, it is funny to me that a gang of imaginary girls on the internet despises me so much that one has even posted that her government job and the Patriot Act has given her the ability to reach beyond the internet and that, if she chooses to, she can have some Marines take care of me. I did laugh out loud at that. This particular girl is a self-professed alcoholic. Very troubled. It was doubly humorous to me that she prefaced her ability to have me killed with the observation that a previous post by "me" on that thread, wasn't from Ferrerman. The post she referred to had no avatar or ISP and it did not have my tone. A DRUNK girl saw this. No one else did. Nice that she noticed but, then she goes on to threaten to have me taken care of. Ya gotta take the bad with the good, I reckon.

This was on a thread called TRIVER TORN on the Science and Technology forum of Topix, if you're scoring at home or in a non-descript room in the basement of the Pentagon.

The so-called "psychologist" then stepped in and diffused the girl's curiousity by promising that she could virtually spank one of the male ninnies. Most ninnies can be persuaded with glasses of virtual bubble tea and freshly baked brownies...

Hey, death threats aside, how can I NOT find this amusing? This is a retarded slice of virtual life that, if you tried to make it up and sell it to Hollywood, you'd never get near a producer.

How would you explain, for example, that a woman you have never met, is so afraid of your real self stalking her real self, that she hijacks your screen name, your avatar and the names of other internet people that you do not know, so she can convince her internet friends that you are stalking her with malice aforthought?

I'd have to give a big ol' Southern 'Do WHAT now?" to that if it were happening to someone else. I'd laugh and say it was stupid.

It is. It is like the reality show "Big Brother". It's just like that except the boys and girls are un-seen 'cause it's on Topix, not on TV, The boys and girls involved surely aren't as attractive as the characters on TV but, who knows? I could post a photo of a pretty girl on an avatar, change my name to Brigid and address the issues of Amy and Abby as a woman. Who would know? who would care?

I think this has already been done. The so-called "psychologist" recently admitted that she initially got on Topix as a professional assignment. That assignment recently ended but, she had made friends and enjoyed their company so much, that she opted to stay. She did not explain what the assignment was and she didn't mention how her friends responded to this, well, duplicity, however, it appears they all took it in stride.

That doesn't strike anyone as, oh, I don't know- pretty fucking bizarre?! Anyone? Hello?

For over a year now, these (mostly) girls have been in constant virtual contact with each other and one of them reveals that her persona was created for a professional assignment. Oh, I see, like Donnie Brasco infiltrating the mafia. Except this Donnie Brasco liked the mob so much, he stayed! Who couldn't "get" that? Donnie- you scamp! You came here to get the goods on us but- hey!- you like us! You really like us! Now who wouldn't laugh at that? Who wouldn't accept that?

Well, I wouldn't. To my knowledge, none of these people have ever met in person. Isn't that kinda odd? The so-called "psychologist" is French and has a staff of assistants and students (who write stories for her...) and seems to live a fabulous life that includes many trips to Europe. Yet, she's never been to Chicago to meet with her two virtual best friends even for a weekend? That's not odd? Anyone?

When the feud with the ninnies began, the so-called "psychologist" mentioned that, by the way, she had received a pornographic picture of my dick from me, a couple of months earlier. Somehow, despite daily correspondence with the ninnies, she had failed to mention that in TWO MONTHS! Of course, it had troubled her greatly. She felt hurt, violated and disgusted all those months but, it slipped her mind. Until there was a reason to mention it...

That, I didn't find funny. It was absurd but, it wasn't funny. I didn't do that. I wouldn't do that. I was very pissed that someone would lie and say that I did. But, most of the ninnies took that as truth. The so-called "psychologist" equated it to a virtual rape. This frightened the ninnies. She said that the note along with the photo explained that this was what she was missing. It could happen to any of them at anytime...

Um, nobody wondered why it took her TWO FUCKING MONTHS to give her gal-pal's a heads up?

Her story has changed about the photo over the last couple of months. Most recently she stated that it was a mis-understanding and that someone had hijacked my Facebook account, evidently for just this one dastardly deed done to one specific person...

Hello, again- no one else amongst my family and friends on FB has had any similar trouble- nothing even close- and this hijacker chose HER out of all the people I actually know?! Not my neices, sister-in-laws, sisters, there friends and so on and so on...?

Well, of course it is because I'm obsessed with her and no one else. Because I think she's full of shit and I don't buy the psychologist crap just like I didn't buy the "I'm in the mob" crap I heard from a couple a dozen dude's in 15 years of tending bar. I didn't send them pictures of my dick either. She set off my bullshit meter was all. I reserve the right to call 'em as I see 'em.

My GOD! It's the internet! You can't see these people! And, when you do, you are seeing what they want you to see. It's like these freaks you see on NBC when Chris Hansen is busting pedophiles. They think they're charming a 13 year old girl and we see that it is a grown police officer. Even after so many airings of the program, these guys are suspicious yet they walk into strange houses hoping to have sex with a child. Never mind morals, they willingly leave logic and common sense at the click of a button.

So, why did this so-called "psychologist" single me out for virtual destruction? There's no half million dollar prize for winning this topix game like on Big Brother. There's no prize at all. There's really only the virtual friendship of a dozen or so ninnies at stake. I don't want that at all. I was asked to join their gang of regulars last fall. I declined. What's to "join"? It's Topix. You sign in, make a comment and either hang in the "conversation" or move on to something else. It is like a gang in that they offer "protection" from other posters who might flame you. Fuck that. I've gone into gun forums by myself. What are they gonna do- shoot me? Claim to have received pictures of my penis? Puh-leeze, been there, had THAT done...

So, why do I care? Because this happened to ME. Without me, I'm nobody. And nobody is going to take up for me but, me. I'm very selfish in that I care about me.

The so-called "psychologist" might be a psychologist. Could be a woman, could be a man. Could be a pretty woman. Could be a 300# lump of human shit. I don't know. I don't care. I'm not a ninnie having virtual tea parties with someone I've never seen nor will see.

I'm outa this Topix freak show and done with all the freaks that go with it.

And any ninjas or delta force guys or any other wanna be hero's that mightcould show up at the house, well, you might find me to be more than a handfull.

And ladies, lacking photographic evidence, ya'll might find me to be more than two hand fulls...

Monday, August 17, 2009


Not really. I mean, I do win in that i've given up on the inanity of Topix and the vulgar insanity of the ninnies. I win there but, that's like saying your head feels better ever since you quit beating it against a brick wall.

I'm not going to spend a lot of time on this ninnie shit. I didn't threaten anybody and I didn't reveal anyones true identity. Anyone who tells you that I did is a liar and a ****. If you think I did this, feel free to think that. If you SAY I did this, fucking prove it. Since you cannot, shut the fuck up.

I'm done with these people. But, before I go, here's a message for all you lackeys who might want to portray yourselves as victims:

If you want to portray a guy as a crazed stalker, DO NOT leave (so far) three vulgar taunts on a ferrerman's blog. That's kinda stoopid. Also, don't publish posts on your blog where your cohorts offer to publish any personal information about a ferrerman. That too is stoopid. And easily copied.

I am done with you freaks.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Ninnies Revisited

A few weeks back I self-censored one of my blogs about introverts. In deference to a young lady who is a former member of the introverts, I deleted it. She is a truly introverted person and was kinda hurt, thinking that I had taken a shot at her and any quiet types like her. I hadn't of course as I have no problem with people being shy or quiet. I actually prefer them to their opposites who are loud and obnoxious. And neither do I have a problem with people who are regular posters on Topix. When I speak disparagingly of 'ninnies' and 'dregs', I do NOT mean introverted people or regulars. Let's make no more mistakes about that.

I personally do not post much in Topix these days. Frankly, since the change, not too many people do. Since the Tribune dropped out there are no fresh news stories to comment on (no Cubs and Sox stuff for example) and this has taken a lot of fuel out of the fire of the forums. It's pretty lame. I'm not even sure if a lot of regular posters know how to access what is now the Chicago Forum. I like to think that some simply found better things to do.

One other change that I noticed is that boys are now allowed to post with the ninnies now. Though boys could always also be introverts, until recently boys could not post in the introverts quorum, the thread that the ninnies called "home". You can thank Dr. Rodney Luther King for this new found right. That, would be, me.

It was nothing really special on my part. I hadn't set out to do it. But, mine and other 'boys' posting on the girl's private thread is what had brought about the flame war in the first place, a couple months back. Ya'll know the drill there. The 'lackey' screamed foul and I screamed back. It was the usual Topix vitriol and it was silly, stupid and pointless and it would have died out real quick except for one thing.

The complete lie about the picture of my penis. That kinda changed everything.

Why did she do that? Why lie about a real person like that?

For the same reason you lie about WMD's. If you want to go to war, you have to rally the support of the people who will be fighting that war for you. You have to give them an evil, despicable, crazy enemy who must be vanquished. That's how it's been done throughout history. To maintain control over people, those people have to be united against a common enemy. Cheney and Bush knew this. So did the head cheerleader. Or maybe she was just being mean.

I guess that I was supposed to leave Topix forever at the first flare up. It could be argued that a smart guy would have done just that. I recalled my first father-in-law often telling me that the best way to argue with a woman was with your hat. Put it on your head and leave. I understand that but, except for when it rains or I'm painting over head, I don't wear hats. Plus, I kinda got this 'fuck with me- i'll fuck with you' way of dealing with life. She wasn't someone who could fire me. I would quit when it suited me.

After I wrote the initial ninnie blog, one of them protested that I had mentioned an aspect of her life and she took umbrage with this. She wondered aloud for several days how I (or anyone) could find her life so interesting as to mention it in a blog. It didn't bother her but, she spoke of it for several days though, it didn't bother her. I should mention that it didn't bother her...

It didn't bother me that it didn't bother her. The blog wasn't about her. Some of the ninnies and some dregs think that the sun rises and sets on them, BECAUSE of them. What bothered me was the hypocrisy of someone who regularly read stories about people on the net written by the head cheerleader (and others) getting upset that something vaguely about 'her' was written on the net. They ALL got upset about this. They are ALL hypocrits. If you giggle because the cheerleader takes quotes from various Topix threads and uses them to portray others in a bad light, then giggle along with this. If you have a problem with this, explain to me how I should not have free speech but any ninnie should. Explain to me also, how any non-innie or reg is fair game to be made fun of but, if I call a liar a liar, I'm somehow a 'troll' and 'obsessed' and a 'stalker' for doing so. Evidently Jack Nicholson was right. You can't handle the truth.

But, alas, this will fall on many deaf ears. An irrational dreg told me recently that nobody reads my blog. The cheerleader told him so. Gotta like a man who thinks for himself.

Topix has changed. The ninnie thread too. Not just are boys now welcome (as long as they take a test to judge how introverted they are) non-introverted women are welcome as well. The girls don't (so far) have to take a test. They had to let some rather bawdy broads in lately along with the boys cause several true introverts had left the club. Membership was down. As long as the new girls and boys behave themselves, nobody will claim to have received photo's of their genitalia. There are I think just three things ninnies are forbidden to discuss:

(1) Sex
(2) Politics
(3) Anything interesting

So now, thanks to Dr. Rodney Luther King (ME!) anyone with a pulse who sometimes likes to be alone, from Florida to Minnesota and New York to California, can be a ninnie. Well, anyone but a ferrerman that is. You have to have some degree of exclusivity. I can live with that.

Besides, only the really cool ninnies get to go offshore...

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

The People Have Spoken

Well, actually they haven't spoken as much as they have shouted so that other people can't speak. But in a sense, they have spoken in that their screaming rants seem to be saying a resounding "NO!" to national healthcare and a resounding "YES" to insurance company profits.

Multi-gazillion dollar corporations are what have made this country what it is today and, by golly, they WILL take us to the Armeggedon and, damnit, that is the way Baby Jesus wants it.

This seems to be what the republicans are screaming at town halls all across the country. Remember when McCain wanted to debate Obama only at town halls? Was the man deaf? You can't hear a thing with all those republicans screaming. If it weren't for Jon Stewart and Keith Olberman watching FOXNEWS for me, I would have no idea that these idiots were screaming about "death panels" for Sarah Palins folks and her Down Syndrome baby and that this was the basis of ObamaCare. Awfull. I mean- who knew?

So the people have spoken and they don't want any of this communist socialist healthcare that Obama wants to force on us and we should do just fine with the medicare and private insurance that has been so wonderfull ever since insurance was invented.

But, screaming is not going to help anything. If you scream too long and too loud you will get a sore throat. Then you'll have to go see a doctor. Who the fuck can afford that?! You gotta be a rich republican or a congressman or senator for that.

So, here's my solution. MANDATORY HEALTH INSURANCE. Think about it. It worked for car insurance. They noticed that millions of people were driving around with little or no insurance on their vehicles. They hired people to study the problem. I think these people were called "lobbyists". They determined that un-insured motorists were costing billions of dollars each year in damage to their profits. Despicable. The carnage!

So, they lobbied Congress or whoever about this travesty and got mandatory liability insurance passed in all states. This means if you have an '86 Buick and you crash into someone with a new Audi and you kill them, you have to be able to pay them 10 grand so that a qualified Doctor can pronounce them dead. If you don't have mandayory health insurance, you will be fined (say, $100) and be told to get it. This process will repeat itself at the discretion of the police who will recognize very quickly that it is also a money-maker for their municipality.

That's what it's all about. Your friends and neighbors are screaming in town halls and seriously thinking about violent revolution in this protect the interests and quarterly reports of multi-billion dollar entities like insurance companies. Barak Obama is not planning to enslave the USA. We're already slaves. We're slaves to the corporations. We're both whore and john to the pimps that are the banks, the oil companies, insurance and on and on. They all want a piece of us and they're all getting it whether it be taxes, interest or how we are treated when we get sick. And they all want more. Our money is a house of cards that can collapse at anytime. Maybe- maybe- the powers that be can keep this from happening. I doubt it. If they might be too greedy for our own good, how can we trust them not to be too greedy for their own good? Where does it end?

It makes me sick to see my fellow Americans behave this way. They are like the rat in a concentration camp helping the guards to get another ration of food.
To hell with everyone else! *I* live another day!

That's what *they* count on...

Mystery Man

We had to go into one of the unproductive meetings we had at the restaurant where Larry and I worked. The Greek would scream about how the entire staff sucked and was fucking ruining his business. he would eventually calm down, the meeting would adjourn and we would go out drinking. i hadn't worked with Larry long so i thought we ought to go out and get something to eat and chat a bit before we hit the bars. In those days, I liked restaurants a lot more than I do now. I had a professional curiousity about how other places did things. Plus dinner would be a more civilized way of getting to know Larry better than a noisy bar.

But there was to be no getting to know Larry better. I had already ascertained from work that he was a fairly quiet guy. I understood that. I'm not a real chatterbox myself. I figured that polite dinner conversation was in order. I asked Larry where he had gone to school.

"I'm not saying", he replied. "Why do you need to know that?"
I didn't need to know that. It was just a simple, innocuous question, one that anyone who had ever gone to school before could answer.

Not Larry. That and where he had grown up, where he lived now and even- and i'm serious about this- his last name, were not for public consumption.

Wow. I work with the guy, drink beer with him and was sitting down to a meal with him, and he wouldn't even say where he had gone to highschool.

He told me that he would never lie. He opted instead to not discuss his personal life with anyone, at all.

Well, that's weird but, I really didn't much care. If mundane information was top-secret in his life, that was his business. Fast forward a couple of decades, and I am the same way on the internet. Some people IRL will tell you there whole life story within ten minutes of knowing you. Some people take longer to open up.

A few months after that informative dinner, our cocktail waitress, Bonnie, asked for a ride to her boyfriend's bar. She promised a couple of free drinks if one of us would take her. I said sure. I knew enough about her boyfriend to not like him. He was a coke dealer, he carried a 45 and his bar served just about anyone near the age of 16 or better. That was his business. We figured we'd check it out for a couple of beers and move on.

Between closing our bar and "a few beers" we found ourselves closing the dealers bar. After last call we finished our beers outside by our cars and watched the under aged crowd stagger about. Larry was telling me a story about whatever when I saw Bonnie approach the boyfriend. She was crying. Next, he threw her on the ground. I rushed over.

I told him to get his fucking hands off of her. He looked at me incredulous and asked why.

Because, I told him, you don't hit women!

I thought about the 45. I thought about the six bouncers moving into position. I thought about beating his ass but there were now seven reasons not to to this.

The kid was done man-handling her. His lead bouncer went over to talk to him. The others eye-balled me. What would happen?

The bouncer came to me and thanked me. I appreciated that. He asked me if I would take her home. Bonnie was beyond hysterical by now and her only other option was the drunk boyfriend. That couldn't be good.

Go home with this guy, Bonnie, he said, He'll take care of you.

I led Bonnie back to my car. I had forgotten about Larry. Incredibly, he began to pick up his story where he had left off. I sarcastically thanked him for having my back and told him i'd deal with him later. Un-fucking-believable.

In the car, Bonnie was as inconsolable as a wounded child. She seemed to hyperventilate as she tried to talk through her tears. She refused to tell me where she lived. She wanted only to go to "his" house. As I drove out of range, I told her that wasn't gonna happen. She had parents. Where did they live? My apartment was an option but, not a good one. I had neighbors who appreciated my quiet existence even if they didn't say so. After ten of the longest, loudest minutes of my life, we agreed that I would take her to the boyfriend's parents house. I was only reasonably sure that he lived elsewhere but, if I met a mom and dad, I had done all I could. Daddy had raised him, daddy could deal with him. I explained the circumstances to the folks, and headed off, disgusted with Larry, Bonnie and the dealer.

Life can turn on a dime and stop on a penny. Bonnie wasn't physically hurt by the punk. In his altered state, shooting me could have been an option. As it was, he had displayed no pistol. The bouncers could have gone to town on me. But, in the end, nobody got hurt. I was disappointed in Larry, of course but, it's not like we were old school buddies... Least ways I came out of that night unscathed and newly armed with the knowledge that Larry could not be counted on in combat situations. Some guys are friends and you just know about them. Some guys you just drink with and wonder why.

I got over my anger at Larry but kept him at a distance. Bonnie quit her job the next day. Several weeks later I learned that Larry and Bonnie had been having a secret affair, before, during and after that night. Funny that the motherfucker never mentioned that over beers...

Some people you never really know. Others you know too well. Even if you don't know where they went to highscool.

Monday, August 10, 2009


Regular non-readers of this blog (of which there are millions) know that I've recently had issues with some of the people who refer to themselves as the 'innies' in the Topix world. These innies (or ninnies as I refer to them) are the select sub-group of the 'regulars' (dregs) who post day and night on Topix. (Note: though a lot of people are regular posters, not all posters are regulars. It's pretty much that simple)

Topix recently- for whatever reason- dropped it's association with the Chicago Tribune. It was probably money. Isn't everything about money? This threw a lot of people's lives into chaos. Where would they find Amy and Abby!? How would they get through the workday without Topix!? People tried posting on the new Trib forum and didn't like it. Topix put all the threads that had been on Trib Topix in the past onto a forum called The Chicago Forum. It's all the same to me. Near as I can figure, Topix is it's own entity and the trib was just a sponser. Topix is world-wide. There are forums for small towns in the US. It can be acessed in freaking Viet Nam and India. It's the INTERNET kids- the WORLD WIDE WEB. It's bigger than all of us.

Or is it? The dreg who portrays herself/himself as a psychologist, 'found' several threads from the past and posted them everywhere she could so that others could re-live or experience past whacky hi-jinks. What fun! Another dreg, one who is quite irrational in his ways, saw these revived threads not as a happy wind-fall but as a offering from Topics, a 'thank you' for not just making Topix what it is today but for BEING Topix...

I'm paraphrasing because I don't know how to link or cut and paste but, in his eyes, Topix was targetting them with these revived threads because they brought a good sized following to Topix- that people sought them out on Topix...

My God! This side of Donald Trump have you ever seen such self-importance? Usually someone has to be face down in a mirror of Peruvian marching powder to have such ego.

I suggested that he/they try not posting for a day. Topix would either shut down or beg them to come back. Maybe even pay ! Call me cruel but I like to feed an ego 'till it explodes. But, this is the same guy who chastized a young regular for taking up too much of the dregs time with her young drama- valuable time that he and the dregs could otherwise be spending helping others (!). Then I think they discussed threesomes and, well, he's an expert at that...

Of course, the irrational dude is serious. If I made people like this up, you wouldn't believe me?

Many of the regulars (and even some of the dregs) ARE kind and helpfull people. Some are funny and insightfull. The problems discussed each day in Amy and Abby are problems that millions of people experience and want to talk about. Anybody can glean some valuable info from these threads.

But, only an irrational dreg can believe that they ARE Topix. He may not always drink beer, but when he does, i'm sure he drinks Dos Equis.

I will close now. I'm off to peruse an Obama thread. There's about a hundred of them. Hey, do you suppose he knows that? Do you suppose he cares?

Sunday, August 9, 2009

That's Politics

My family is very political. Except for brother Pat (who must have been dropped on his head as a baby) we are all liberal democrats. We all cried tears of joy when Barack H. Obama was elected President of the United States. When those against us cried tears of despair for the man's election, well, we weren't going to let them rain on our parade. Oh well, that's politics. One team wins and the other loses. Kinda like baseball. The game goes on despite who wins it all from year to year. The game is bigger than this years champion, last years or the next. That's baseball.

Remember in the sixties when some hippie wag declared that, "The revolution will be televised!"? Well, I don't know what he was smoking...but, it seemed very profound at the time.

I don't think though that this nostradumbass knew that in the future that television would have such a profound impact on American culture and politics. I think he meant that "the revolution" would be reported by television, shown on the nightly news- not created by television. I don't think that the guy figured on a FOXNEWS. Who did?

Jon Stewart did a great piece on The Daily Show illustrating how FOXNEWS manufactured the current disruptions at various town hall meetings. Talk about a news cycle. They create the vitriol, suggest that people repeat said vitriol to the powers that be and then they REPORT it as news! Truly fucking amazing. This is why I get all my FOXNEWS fron Jon Stewart and Keith Olberman. If I must listen to such bullshit, I want it sweetened with the milk of human comedy.

If there is a revolution as they seem to be calling for, it will be televised and it will be "Brought to you by, the good folks at FOXNEWS- where we're always 'fair and balanced' Halliburton (a subsidary of your friends at KBR) and by Wall Street-' We didn't see this depression coming but, what the fuck, let us do what we want!'"

America is and mightcould always be, the greatest country in the history and in the future of this world. The very bottom line of this whole mess is that the majority of us chose a black man as our leader. FOXNEWS and every asshole on every political thread in any venue of the internet can deny this all they want- and accuse me and others of playing the race card- but, these people are upset because we elected a "nigger" as president. It is that simple. It IS that wrong. I WILL be that honest about it.

America right now is like a spoiled brat of a 16 year old child. The house this child lives in is a warm, comfortable home. There is food on the table, the shelter is a good home. It is a good life.

The child needs nothing but WANTS everything. And, when does that child want it? NOW! The kid "deserves" and demands it RIGHT NOW! Why, because it's "unfair!" Other people have this-that and the other thing! I want that!

There's no talking to a child like this. You should have seen it coming back when they promised to hold their breath until they turned blue. You hoped that they'd grow out of it. But, now they are threatening to run away- start their own family. TO HELL WITH THIS FAMILY!, they cry.

Enough with the metaphors. These greedy republicans know it's all about money and power. God forbid they wait four years and create a candidate who can defeat Obama (though I doubt such a man exists and I'm certain it ain't the woman they have in mind...). No, they have to try to destroy America in these four years to have a chance in 2012. Yeah, fuck America. Destroy this country to prove how much you love it! If we're fighting in the streets in four years it's ONLY because the majority of us foolishly decided to falsely elect a nigger/muslim/not born here/communist/marxist/every-thing-FOX-can-think-of...PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA!

Yes, he's my president. He's your president too. You don't like it- deal with it. If you can't deal with it, fuck you.

And, go clean up your room, America. As long as you live under my roof, it's my rules...

Monday, August 3, 2009


I have been asked by one of the millions of non-readers of this blog to do a "special request blog" . This request was made by a non-reader whom I will refer to as "K" because her name is Kamilla. "K" is, for some reason, in the dark about Toilet Paper Orientation. Well, I suppose we all are. I'll try to help.

So, your toilet paper has come out of the closet. What does this mean? In most cases it means that the old roll has been used up and it's time for a new one.

What is the proper orientation for toilet paper? Well, isn't that just a debate for the ages!? It is my belief that, like human sexuality, left handedness and sports team loyalty, TP orientation is decided at birth. Some churches might disagree with me on these issues but, that's what they're there for- to foster disagreement and collect money. Modern Technology and the SCOTT Corporation seem to agree with me.

Well, they're surely going to Hell! Maybe. Maybe not. How much money do they have?

How do I change my roll? You can't. I just told you! It's decided at birth. It is what it is. No amount of praying or crying will change your roll. Just place the roll on the roller and be done with it! GAWD!

No, I mean should it be placed inside or outside? Oh, hell! I have no earthly idea. Hmmm. That's a tough one. I would write Ask Amy about that.

More Fences!

I was up here last night pretending to be doing some work, when i heard Margret next door talking to her boy, "Sparky" (not his real name). Sparky doesn't throw a ball very well, having learned from his father, Bill, who also doesn't throw very well. So, whether he meant to throw north or not, the ball must have gone west as I heard Margret admonish him and Lilly the dog, to "stay out of Ferrerman's garden".

"That's our garden!" Sparky protested. "Dad said so!"

I usually do not pay attention when they habitually negotiate EVERYTHING with their boy but, this aroused my curiousity. How could my carrots be their carrots?

Margret explained to Sparky that the iron near the edge of the back fence- that one right there with the red plastic ribbon on it- was a property iron, demarcing their property and Ferrerman's. The kid wasn't having any of it. "DAD SAID IT'S OUR GARDEN!"

Hmmm. In a few dozen salutations and conversation with Bill, somehow this had never come up. You would think that this issue might have arose when I planted the seeds or while I daily tended to 'maters and broccoli in the other patch nearby. But, it never did. I can't say that Bill ever said "your" when referring to my garden but I know that he never said "my".

Now, it's possible that Sparky totally misunderstood his dad's take on ownership of the garden. It's also possible that just once the boy actually listened to his dad and it was when dad told him about the garden. But, I've got to believe that if a guy has the temerity to browbeat one neighbor into building a fence she doesn't want, he might also be delusional (if not un-informed) about property lines. I had laid the carrot plot out after eye-balling Mr. O's old fence, leaving myself about a foot and a half on the side to access from Bill's side. Not being anal, I didn't measure. This wasn't rocket science. Regardless, the aforementioned property iron proves I was well within my own address, something I already knew.

In highschool I took a business law class. I always wondered why. The one thing I remember from the class is the story the teacher told of how someone who lived on a corner lot had allowed a neighbor to cut across his yard and that, after something ridiculous like 20 years, the neighbor sued and won ownership of the yard because of that access. Do WHAT now!? The law is hilarious when it's being taken so seriously. But, I remembered too my Dad's tale of neighbors back in Ohio who each year tried to encroach there garden onto our property. Dad was a Civil Engineer, with a glance he could spot property markers of any kind, anywhere. Each year he had to re-educate those neighbors and they had to retreat their garden.

Since Bill isn't likely to bring this up anytime soon, I will. His quest for yard domination must be stopped now before he builds an army and aquires tanks. (I learned that in History class). And, I'm thinking that I need to stop Lilly from cavorting in my backyard as well. The ashen look on Margret's face when I broached the idea of a fence now speaks to that. There just might be some weird law regarding that and it mightcould be that Bill has thoughts of coveting my entire backyard for Lilly's enjoyment and Sparky's errant ball throwing. Or maybe Bill was a Cattle Baron in a previous life and he just hates sodbusters.

Well, no one wants a range war. Sometimes they just happen. A fence is not in the budget now. A little conversation and a suppy of Liquid Fence is. I guess good fence's DO make good neighbors. That's a shame.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Good Fences...

The old guy behind me recently stopped by to give me the heads up that he was having a new fence put up. He wanted me to know that the workers would be on my property and that the job would most likely be done in one day. Of course, that was all fine with me. He was getting a high-dollar vinyl fence to replace the stockade fence that had seen better days about five years previous. Mr O is a super nice guy. it was the first time that I had occassion to meet him. He's a retired Union electrician and i'm a barely employed, commercial painter so, we had a nice chat about the trades, the economy and life and work in general. He also told a great story about his first day on the job as a soldier in the Korean War.

As they drove towards base camp, he remarked to the driver how smart it was that the tents and the uniforms were white, in preparation for the coming winter.

"We're finally getting smart", he said.

The driver turned as white as the tents. He slammed on the brakes, threw it back into first and spun around a one eighty and got the hell out of there. The Chinese and North Koreans in the camp they had almost entered were too stunned to realize that American G.I.'s had nearly "invaded" them. Mr O and his mates safely found their camp several minutes later. I'll think about that every time I get a little lost in the future.

With the construction of Mr O's fence, I was also able to meet Lynn, a katty korner neighbor of mine, next to Mr O. Her stockade fence- well, what was left of it- was coming down as well. Lynn's a sweet, pre-maturely gray lady about my age. She might be too sweet. With her yard now open, she invited me to take a look and discuss fences.

If she had her druthers, she would take down the remnants of her fence and be done with it. Her children are highschool age, her dog is old and well behaved and she didn't need a fence to corral them. So, why build one? Neighbor Bill's forsythia seemed to be a nice enough "fence" in itself...

It was neighbor Bill who insisted on a fence. Rather, he insisted on Lynn building and paying for a new fence. I had to give a Southern, "Do WHAT now?" to that information. You can ask a neighbor to take down a decaying fence. But, how do you demand that a neighbor put up a new fence in it's place? It seems to me that if I want a fence, I should pay for that fence. If my neighbor wants a high-dollar fence, I should be gratefull that he builds one and that I benefit from it. Hooray for him and hooray for me too. Bill has a different take on the hooray for me aspect of life.

I was too late in planting the seeds of sedition in Lynn's mind. She had already contracted to have a simple, non-treated pine, stockade fence erected. Oh, she appreciated my imput and I bet she wishes we had met a couple of weeks earlier but, she was commited to the fence and the notion of being done with the whole thing as quickly and cheaply as possible. Good fences are said to make good neighbors and now I know this is true.

After Lynn's fence went up, I chatted with Bill's wife about the influx of new fences and how nice it was. She was dissappointed that "her" fence" wasn't of the fancy variety of "my" fence. They had been hoping at least for a more expensive pressure treated fence. Lynn had gotten the least expensive option, much to their dismay. As we talked, their dog ran about my yard. Lily is a pretty collie and very good natured for a dog that has never been trained. I like her. They like the open space of our yards so that Lilly can run about, catching but not actually retrieving balls thrown for her. Yep, it's as if my yard is their yard.

"Ya know", I told her, "I really like Mr O's fence. I think I'd like to put one up here."

With that, I think I knew just how white that fella's face got that day back in Korea.