Twice in this young year, enemy posters have seen fit to tell me that their real-life wives have gone on record in telling them that they would prefer to remain married to them, rather than to be with Ferrerman.
How does this subject ever come up??!!
(couple #1 finishes having sex)
"Was it good for you, Bambi darling?"
"Well, no, Sub. But, it wasn't your fault. It was Ferrerman's fault!"
"Come again?"
"I didn't even come the first time! I was imagining you were Ferrerman, dear. First of all, he's not as big as he claims with that 'Two Nines' business. The 'little man in the boat' might as well have drifted out to sea for all he cared! It was clumbsy and awful!"
"So, you prefer me to FERRERMAN! Awesome! WINNING!!!!"
Well, I can only imagine that it went down like that as actually, I was nowhere in the vicinity. However, in this threads, that guy and the nightwatchman/redneck have both volunteered that their significant others, in a recent taste test, preferred them over Ferrerman, hands down. No doubt 4 out of 5 dentist's wives prefer their men as well. What's a Ferrer to do?
It's one thing on the threads to 'be inside a posters head', but, in their wife's head? In the bedroom? Or the kitchen? Or while the wife is day dreaming at work? Just how does Ferrerman factor into such a question? I've been married- one and a half times at last count- and i've never asked those wives if they wanted to be with someone else. They could figure that out on their own, without any prompting from me. I like self-reliant, proactive women, I guess.
My best guess is that they are looking for some sort of validation from their respective wives. Something- anything- that will prove their superiority over Ferrerman, in the threads. The wife, no less, prefers ME to Ferrerman! So, there you go- Obama will lose handily in '12! End of story!
Well, oki doakie. That's better than a Foxnews link even. I'm still alone and in the dark as to how I figure into that equation. It reminds me of Jimmy Carter talking about the chat he had with young Amy about nuclear arms proliferation. Amy was maybe 10? She wasn't secretary of defense either. Carter kinda lost me there. Then he lost the country.
And anybody who discusses Ferrerman as a potential lover or spouse with their wife- WITH their wife- has lost a battle to Ferrerman that Ferrerman didn't even know he was trying to win.
Yikes. Winning?
Not if you don't play....
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Sunday, January 29, 2012
And the wonder of it all....
There is a tragically NutraSweet, terminally blonde in the threads who could honestly find the *goodness* in Adolph Hitler. I'm probably not kidding. She could think that Hitler and Elie Wiesel should get along if only they would sit down and discuss their differences...
Oh my. She believes that, because she likes both me and the poster generally know as *Sam*, that despite our differences in politics, that fucking punk-ass, piece of shit and I could be friends.
I KNOW! LOL! OH MY....
"You know, Adolph, except for the my people hating and the final solution thing, you're not a bad guy!"
"And you, Elie, despite your Lord killing history, money-grubbiness and general lack of hygiene, I like you. That's why I'll kill you last!"
"Let's have another round! Fraulein! More Maneshewitz!"
Oy vey!
I may have mentioned that the 'keep your friends close/enemies closer' thing never works. Expounding on that, I must also add that, one is judged by the company one keeps. To that end, I don't have any good friends that are racist, hate-filled, fuckheads. I have some less close friends who have their moments but, I've had my moments as well so, there's a bit of a curve in the grading. I try to walk in their shoes a bit before I pass judgement or delete them from Facebook. I'm a Ferrerman, not a messiah.
I'm also a Groucho Marxist in that I could never be a member of a club that would have me as a member. Thus, my past, present and future problems with dregs and cliques. Once you join the gangs or refuse to join the gangs, kids, you're fate is sealed. Stay in school and stay off drugs while you are at it.
On the threads or IRL, you are judged by the company you keep. If part of that company is a soulless scumbag like a Sam, I do not want to be part of that company. If other people somehow see redeeming social value in such a scumbag, I cannot help but question their assessment of my own wonderfulness. I know I'm wonderful. Several of my friends know that I am wonderful. But, none of these friends thinks that a miscreant like (for example) a Sam is wonderful. Not being mean but, if they did, they wouldn't be wonderful because I wouldn't be wonderful!
I don't have to be wonderful. That's not the point. Just don't elevate some scumbag to near-Ferrerman status. They are undeserving and it cheapens the Ferrerman experience. The punk's not even in the same league.
Oh my. She believes that, because she likes both me and the poster generally know as *Sam*, that despite our differences in politics, that fucking punk-ass, piece of shit and I could be friends.
I KNOW! LOL! OH MY....
"You know, Adolph, except for the my people hating and the final solution thing, you're not a bad guy!"
"And you, Elie, despite your Lord killing history, money-grubbiness and general lack of hygiene, I like you. That's why I'll kill you last!"
"Let's have another round! Fraulein! More Maneshewitz!"
Oy vey!
I may have mentioned that the 'keep your friends close/enemies closer' thing never works. Expounding on that, I must also add that, one is judged by the company one keeps. To that end, I don't have any good friends that are racist, hate-filled, fuckheads. I have some less close friends who have their moments but, I've had my moments as well so, there's a bit of a curve in the grading. I try to walk in their shoes a bit before I pass judgement or delete them from Facebook. I'm a Ferrerman, not a messiah.
I'm also a Groucho Marxist in that I could never be a member of a club that would have me as a member. Thus, my past, present and future problems with dregs and cliques. Once you join the gangs or refuse to join the gangs, kids, you're fate is sealed. Stay in school and stay off drugs while you are at it.
On the threads or IRL, you are judged by the company you keep. If part of that company is a soulless scumbag like a Sam, I do not want to be part of that company. If other people somehow see redeeming social value in such a scumbag, I cannot help but question their assessment of my own wonderfulness. I know I'm wonderful. Several of my friends know that I am wonderful. But, none of these friends thinks that a miscreant like (for example) a Sam is wonderful. Not being mean but, if they did, they wouldn't be wonderful because I wouldn't be wonderful!
I don't have to be wonderful. That's not the point. Just don't elevate some scumbag to near-Ferrerman status. They are undeserving and it cheapens the Ferrerman experience. The punk's not even in the same league.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Secret Ferrerman
They're given you bad icons and tryin' to take away you're name....
Well, that's the mean streets and dark alleys of Topix. That's the way it goes. Just about every day I'm amazed and bemused at how ridiculously serious some very retarded people take the virtual world of Topix. There hasn't been this much WINNING since Charlie Sheen last threw up on his shoes.
I private message with several women on Topix. It's pretty mundane stuff, mostly topical, friendly stuff, as much about life as anything on the threads. You can't always know who is aligned with who so you have to take people at face value. Thus, spankability aside, I prefer my women like I like my politicians: liberal and thoughtful. If I wanted a mean, crazy bitch, I'd get married again. I tell myself that every day.
Just the same, I'm careful not to reveal Ferrerman trade secrets loosely in PM's. Neverminding that Topix reserves the right to read them, you always have to reserve the notion that someone might let someone else read them too. To that end, these PM's are pretty much what I could post on the threads. My enemies are such that, unless I confess to their beliefs about me, I'm just fucking lying about everything. This just makes it easier to be honest which, by the way, is still the best policy.
There isn't much to lie about anyway as I'm pretty much the same in real life as I am here or on the threads. I'm not a secret agent or a war hero there or in not-so-private messages but, I can mess around like that here. No license to kill but, my literary license is valid.
You know what? I've already said to much. Perhaps I'll let Johnny Rivers finish this tale:
Well, that's the mean streets and dark alleys of Topix. That's the way it goes. Just about every day I'm amazed and bemused at how ridiculously serious some very retarded people take the virtual world of Topix. There hasn't been this much WINNING since Charlie Sheen last threw up on his shoes.
I private message with several women on Topix. It's pretty mundane stuff, mostly topical, friendly stuff, as much about life as anything on the threads. You can't always know who is aligned with who so you have to take people at face value. Thus, spankability aside, I prefer my women like I like my politicians: liberal and thoughtful. If I wanted a mean, crazy bitch, I'd get married again. I tell myself that every day.
Just the same, I'm careful not to reveal Ferrerman trade secrets loosely in PM's. Neverminding that Topix reserves the right to read them, you always have to reserve the notion that someone might let someone else read them too. To that end, these PM's are pretty much what I could post on the threads. My enemies are such that, unless I confess to their beliefs about me, I'm just fucking lying about everything. This just makes it easier to be honest which, by the way, is still the best policy.
There isn't much to lie about anyway as I'm pretty much the same in real life as I am here or on the threads. I'm not a secret agent or a war hero there or in not-so-private messages but, I can mess around like that here. No license to kill but, my literary license is valid.
You know what? I've already said to much. Perhaps I'll let Johnny Rivers finish this tale:
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Check here
Lots of loose talk these days about taxes. Ron Paul doesn't think anyone should pay taxes and fans of the others currently running for the republican nomination are just about ready to go to war because Obama thinks rich people should pay more. This outrages working class republicans because they have been told that rich people are job creators not *rich people*. We are regularly reminded that, 'no poor person ever gave me a job!'
Duh. Neither, they might add, is it a good thing to rob Peter to pay Paul. Peter doesn't think so. Paul disagrees.
Many people act as if they alone are being asked to support poor people- usually black and certainly democrat. It's as if the IRS regularly comes to their home or work and turns their pockets inside out everytime some little colored kid needs breakfast. It's not that way, of course. Hyperbole aside, their federal taxes have not gone up under Obama. If state taxes have, that's not Barack's doing. It's the business of the individual state's, the same states that some think ought to be totally left alone by the Federal government so that they can enjoy sovereignty like the founders allegedly intended because, left to their own devices, they'll surely prosper. Alabama can have slaves again. Idaho can go to war with Iran. California can go to war with Colorado and take their water. Mississippi can carry on as it always has. No one will know.
But, all that seems a bit extreme even though some people might see it as a start....
We've had social programs as safety nets for our poorer citizens and those trying not to become poorer since FDR and The Great Depression. FDR was a democrat and, though long dead, is hated by republicans for all that he did, just as democrats revere him. They act as if he set up all this stuff just yesterday along with Saul Alinsky and Barack Obama. The truth is though, since FDR passed we've had a lot of republican presidents and none of them have done much to eliminate these programs. they seemed more concerned with making their rich friends- JOB CREATOR FRIENDS- more creative than in making poor people poorer. Most recently we had GW Bush. Just three years ago he finished up an eight year term in office where he could have allayed the non-benevolent fears of all republicans that poor people might have refrigerators and televisions but he went to a couple of wars instead.
These republicans always have bitched about poor people having such luxuries on the government dime but they never expect anything to be done about it until a democrat is in the White House. Stupid fuckers! They are like people who love football but go to a soccer game and wonder why they don't throw the ball and/or run with it. They either just don't get it or they are at the wrong game. Timing is everything.
But, since no IRS people are actually coming to any republican homestead, taking cash and giving it to folks across the tracks and since, as a taxpayer you actually have no control how the government spends whatever you couldn't hide in the Cayman Islands, could we maybe have a little fun with our tax returns?
You'd still have to pay (unless you're a heroic job creator) but, like the presidential fund, you could have the OPTION of checking a box if you want $1 to go to an out of work guy named 'Jimmy' or a single mom raising four kids. It's a choice, America. And that dollar will not effect your refund. Checking the box might make some people pleased that they are helping out a brother or a sister. NOT checking the box might cheer up others and make them think they fucked some loser.
It's all political sleight of hand, of course, but maybe it will shut up some of these assholes.
Duh. Neither, they might add, is it a good thing to rob Peter to pay Paul. Peter doesn't think so. Paul disagrees.
Many people act as if they alone are being asked to support poor people- usually black and certainly democrat. It's as if the IRS regularly comes to their home or work and turns their pockets inside out everytime some little colored kid needs breakfast. It's not that way, of course. Hyperbole aside, their federal taxes have not gone up under Obama. If state taxes have, that's not Barack's doing. It's the business of the individual state's, the same states that some think ought to be totally left alone by the Federal government so that they can enjoy sovereignty like the founders allegedly intended because, left to their own devices, they'll surely prosper. Alabama can have slaves again. Idaho can go to war with Iran. California can go to war with Colorado and take their water. Mississippi can carry on as it always has. No one will know.
But, all that seems a bit extreme even though some people might see it as a start....
We've had social programs as safety nets for our poorer citizens and those trying not to become poorer since FDR and The Great Depression. FDR was a democrat and, though long dead, is hated by republicans for all that he did, just as democrats revere him. They act as if he set up all this stuff just yesterday along with Saul Alinsky and Barack Obama. The truth is though, since FDR passed we've had a lot of republican presidents and none of them have done much to eliminate these programs. they seemed more concerned with making their rich friends- JOB CREATOR FRIENDS- more creative than in making poor people poorer. Most recently we had GW Bush. Just three years ago he finished up an eight year term in office where he could have allayed the non-benevolent fears of all republicans that poor people might have refrigerators and televisions but he went to a couple of wars instead.
These republicans always have bitched about poor people having such luxuries on the government dime but they never expect anything to be done about it until a democrat is in the White House. Stupid fuckers! They are like people who love football but go to a soccer game and wonder why they don't throw the ball and/or run with it. They either just don't get it or they are at the wrong game. Timing is everything.
But, since no IRS people are actually coming to any republican homestead, taking cash and giving it to folks across the tracks and since, as a taxpayer you actually have no control how the government spends whatever you couldn't hide in the Cayman Islands, could we maybe have a little fun with our tax returns?
You'd still have to pay (unless you're a heroic job creator) but, like the presidential fund, you could have the OPTION of checking a box if you want $1 to go to an out of work guy named 'Jimmy' or a single mom raising four kids. It's a choice, America. And that dollar will not effect your refund. Checking the box might make some people pleased that they are helping out a brother or a sister. NOT checking the box might cheer up others and make them think they fucked some loser.
It's all political sleight of hand, of course, but maybe it will shut up some of these assholes.
Monday, January 23, 2012
A trimmed history of public hair
When I was a young Ferrerman, my friend and I used to raid his dad's sock drawer where he kept his Playboy magazines from our curious eyes. No weird boyhood adventures of circle-jerking (we weren't from Texas!) just, pre-pubescent exploration. We had heard through the neighborhood news network (older dudes) that women had hair down there. Well, where the Hell was it? We knew where 'down there' was (in relative proximity to our own down there but, decidedly different) but, where o' where was the hair?
A simpler time, indeed. Today one could click on any porn site and look at a thousand naked women until they might find one with pubic hair. Rookies might see that *one* and say that she needs to see a doctor about that! There shouldn't be such growth there! GAAAROOOSSSS!
In the 60's Hugh Hefner was not allowed to show pubic hair. He wouldn't push that envelope until the 70's after Penthouse publisher, Bob Guccione, opened that envelope and spread it out on the table. Hef relied on the airbrush to make his 'mates both perfect and legal for public consumption. Before the trend of women going bald took off, I recalled the generally reliable Playboy Advisor column deeming the desire for shaving women's pubic region clean to be 'pedophila'. He surmised that one female letter writer surely had been raped as a child and wanted to relive that experience. Oh. Of course... Another wondered if she should submit to her boyfriends request that she shave, He wrote him off as a creep who wanted to be with a young girl. Oh. Well, you sure have to read between the lines!
I quit reading after that. The dude seemed to know his stuff about which wine to serve with what dish and the stereo system drama of the day, but, he was stuck on stupid with the pedo/shaving question.
Who knows why each woman or man defoliates the forest. It's a trendy, popular thing to do is likely the number one answer. You and the girlfriend saw it in a porno, you wondered aloud....she thought it looked OK.... The next thing you know, razor sales and wax treatments are way up. Similar to the ubiquitous bottled water.
Ya know, it's not my vagina. This is still America. If a woman wants to do that, it is her business. I grew up desiring bush, believing in it's existence and liking it. If the carpet doesn't exactly match the drapes, I don't care. Contrast is nice. Odd though that, in an era where seemingly anything goes, pubic hair has all but gone away, as if it were the 60's again.
A simpler time, indeed. Today one could click on any porn site and look at a thousand naked women until they might find one with pubic hair. Rookies might see that *one* and say that she needs to see a doctor about that! There shouldn't be such growth there! GAAAROOOSSSS!
In the 60's Hugh Hefner was not allowed to show pubic hair. He wouldn't push that envelope until the 70's after Penthouse publisher, Bob Guccione, opened that envelope and spread it out on the table. Hef relied on the airbrush to make his 'mates both perfect and legal for public consumption. Before the trend of women going bald took off, I recalled the generally reliable Playboy Advisor column deeming the desire for shaving women's pubic region clean to be 'pedophila'. He surmised that one female letter writer surely had been raped as a child and wanted to relive that experience. Oh. Of course... Another wondered if she should submit to her boyfriends request that she shave, He wrote him off as a creep who wanted to be with a young girl. Oh. Well, you sure have to read between the lines!
I quit reading after that. The dude seemed to know his stuff about which wine to serve with what dish and the stereo system drama of the day, but, he was stuck on stupid with the pedo/shaving question.
Who knows why each woman or man defoliates the forest. It's a trendy, popular thing to do is likely the number one answer. You and the girlfriend saw it in a porno, you wondered aloud....she thought it looked OK.... The next thing you know, razor sales and wax treatments are way up. Similar to the ubiquitous bottled water.
Ya know, it's not my vagina. This is still America. If a woman wants to do that, it is her business. I grew up desiring bush, believing in it's existence and liking it. If the carpet doesn't exactly match the drapes, I don't care. Contrast is nice. Odd though that, in an era where seemingly anything goes, pubic hair has all but gone away, as if it were the 60's again.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
In touch with reality
Absolutely no one admits to watching reality TV. This must be why it's so popular. There's only like a hundred some shows just about logging or, so it seems.
I look at a lot of them, even if I don't always remember the titles and some are actually quite good. Some are OK and some suck. It's just like regular TV dramas in that respect.. The characters are real even if they don't always act like it but, I think a lot of dramatic license is given and taken in the interest of story telling. It's my understanding that, in most cases, a producer and camera crew is embedded with the stars whether they be ice road truckers, pawn shop owners or gold miners. No doubt there is a lot of waiting around for something to happen and then weeks of editing to make it as interesting as possible. Well, isn't that just like real life?
Asute viewers can kinda tell when the drama is a little contrived as on "Survivor" or "Big Brother". Some of blow ups are rather obviously producer fueled to spice up the show. The world is full of crazy, overly dramatic people but not all of them are attractive enough or desiring to be on those shows. So, the producers have to dance with the ones they brung.
I like the gun shows on cable but, I also despise them. Evidently, your average gun store owner is an egotestical....blowhard who loves to blow shit up usually with fully-automatic weapons you and I can't buy but, also with bazookas, flame-throwers and mortars, also unavailable at WalMart. It's the manufactured drama that gets me though. Amidst all the gunplay, we have to see the continuing drama of the blossoming love of the owners daughter and one of his gun mechanics and the conflict that presents. Of course, the intent is to show these people as real people with real emotions that aren't simply limited to whooping and hollering when an old Buick explodes. Sheesh. I don't really care. Norm Abrahms always showed us how to hammer a nail, never how to nail Mrs Norm. I like to see how things are made and then, how they are used. Norm never built the house and then blew it up. I'm just saying. I appreciate the skill involved in shooting guns. I like and shoot guns myself. But, guns are primarily for killing people. As much fun as shooting is, when it becomes a team sport, it's called war.
With the various trucking and logging shows, if you've seen one, you've seen 'em all. It's very dangerous to drive on ice roads in Alaska or those insane, 3rd world roads in Peru. Felling trees in the forest or catching halibut in the Bering Sea really is dangerous. There seems to be enough dramatic danger there to go around and, usually no chicks to fall in love with. Because of that though, there has to be male on male conflict, up to and including fisticuffs. I get that part. I have worked commercial construction for years and, shit happens when you get boys together. We weren't 'allowed' to fight but, stuff happens. Some of the confrontations- maybe all- seem real. However, I wonder if there are producers in the background....
"We just filmed Rick saying that you blow dead dogs, Butch. How does that make you feel?"
There's a very pointless show about oil workers in Texas that features macho-stunting on a regular basis. The guys are all in their twenties, buff and tatooed. They might all be on work release from prison, too. Most of them seem destined to go back.
But, of all the faults of reality TV, the most annoying is time.
Everything has to be done "yesterday".
"I need a fully functional, Abrahms A1 tank."
OK.
And I need it to fly!"
OK.
"And I need it by Saturday...."
The reality car shows are all like that. Knowing full well that there is an auction on the weekend, why not wai tuntil Wednesday to start looking for an interesting car to build at the last minute? You know- make it interesting. Fuck all that planning that non-TV businesses do. Pussies. That's just not real.
I look at a lot of them, even if I don't always remember the titles and some are actually quite good. Some are OK and some suck. It's just like regular TV dramas in that respect.. The characters are real even if they don't always act like it but, I think a lot of dramatic license is given and taken in the interest of story telling. It's my understanding that, in most cases, a producer and camera crew is embedded with the stars whether they be ice road truckers, pawn shop owners or gold miners. No doubt there is a lot of waiting around for something to happen and then weeks of editing to make it as interesting as possible. Well, isn't that just like real life?
Asute viewers can kinda tell when the drama is a little contrived as on "Survivor" or "Big Brother". Some of blow ups are rather obviously producer fueled to spice up the show. The world is full of crazy, overly dramatic people but not all of them are attractive enough or desiring to be on those shows. So, the producers have to dance with the ones they brung.
I like the gun shows on cable but, I also despise them. Evidently, your average gun store owner is an egotestical....blowhard who loves to blow shit up usually with fully-automatic weapons you and I can't buy but, also with bazookas, flame-throwers and mortars, also unavailable at WalMart. It's the manufactured drama that gets me though. Amidst all the gunplay, we have to see the continuing drama of the blossoming love of the owners daughter and one of his gun mechanics and the conflict that presents. Of course, the intent is to show these people as real people with real emotions that aren't simply limited to whooping and hollering when an old Buick explodes. Sheesh. I don't really care. Norm Abrahms always showed us how to hammer a nail, never how to nail Mrs Norm. I like to see how things are made and then, how they are used. Norm never built the house and then blew it up. I'm just saying. I appreciate the skill involved in shooting guns. I like and shoot guns myself. But, guns are primarily for killing people. As much fun as shooting is, when it becomes a team sport, it's called war.
With the various trucking and logging shows, if you've seen one, you've seen 'em all. It's very dangerous to drive on ice roads in Alaska or those insane, 3rd world roads in Peru. Felling trees in the forest or catching halibut in the Bering Sea really is dangerous. There seems to be enough dramatic danger there to go around and, usually no chicks to fall in love with. Because of that though, there has to be male on male conflict, up to and including fisticuffs. I get that part. I have worked commercial construction for years and, shit happens when you get boys together. We weren't 'allowed' to fight but, stuff happens. Some of the confrontations- maybe all- seem real. However, I wonder if there are producers in the background....
"We just filmed Rick saying that you blow dead dogs, Butch. How does that make you feel?"
There's a very pointless show about oil workers in Texas that features macho-stunting on a regular basis. The guys are all in their twenties, buff and tatooed. They might all be on work release from prison, too. Most of them seem destined to go back.
But, of all the faults of reality TV, the most annoying is time.
Everything has to be done "yesterday".
"I need a fully functional, Abrahms A1 tank."
OK.
And I need it to fly!"
OK.
"And I need it by Saturday...."
The reality car shows are all like that. Knowing full well that there is an auction on the weekend, why not wai tuntil Wednesday to start looking for an interesting car to build at the last minute? You know- make it interesting. Fuck all that planning that non-TV businesses do. Pussies. That's just not real.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
The words of the profits
In the 90's, I had a pretty good job with a decent, rather progressive construction company that I shall call Ratmo Construction, LLC for the purposes of this post. 'Progressive' somehow has become an ugly word these days as republicans spew it out of their mouths calling anything that keeps us from falling back into the 19th century, progressive. (Then they spit, making a mess of their computer screens).
Ratmo actually treated us pretty good during the Clinton years. They offered us a Simple IRA that they matched our contributions to, to the tune of 3%. One year they surprised us by rewarding us and instituting a Paid Time Off policy where we could earn up to a weeks paid vacation. Every six months I was eligible for 50 cent raises. Insurance was free for individual employees and reasonable for familes. Twice a year they would cater lunch for us and all the other trades on big jobs. Closer to home, they sprung for pizza and pop at meetings when the IRA or safety was discussed. Christmas meant a company party at a fine dining establishment. So what happened?
GW Bush happened. All these goodies began to go away about the very moment he took office. It was as if I memo went out that day: "Fuck these motherfuckers! They can ALL be replaced!"
This was true. First they went for the 12 man finishing crew, laying off ten of those guys and subbing out the bulk of the work to an outfit that employed illegal aliens of the Mexican persuasion. Word was that a consultant had consulted this idea to them. Yes, it does make business sense at many levels to not have responsibility for your employees. Not paying workman's comp for them is a huge savings alone. No PTO, no drug tests- no etc. etc. etc. All this works well for the Chinese I might add before any repugs in the non-reading audience get too patriotic. In fact, they do it better....
The finishers were a warning that most all of us were finished as well. We were regularly warned that we could be next. In fact, saying 'good morning' to our diminutive boss, Little Jimmy, usually was met with the response: "Y'all motherfuckers can be replaced by Mexicans!!!" instead of the usual, 'And good morning to you!' Little Jimmy hadn't changed with the appointment of Bush to the presidency. He had always been a prick. The only difference was, his prickness was now sanctioned from the top tier of the company. The idea was to get us to quit and not be eligible for unemployment. But, that didn't take. As I used to hold my hand up about five feet three inches in the air, one inch above Little Jimmy's head, I used to tell him: "You must be this tall to fuck with me."
Well, that didn't help my association with him but, after five some years of him being him, it really didn't hurt either as you might think. He was a prick no matter how nice you were to him. Might as well have some fun. Have you ever seen me on Topix? LOL!
The handwriting had been on the wall since they fired the finishers. They got me and 15 of the painters in February of '02 with Little Jimmy citing 'Osama Bin Laden and 9/11...' as the *reason* until I, speaking for the crew, told him to shut his fucking midget mouth up. That the company had him, all by his little lonesome, break the news to those of us who had bothered to show up that day spoke how little they cared about his life, nevermind our own. He was visibly shaken from the get go.
Laid-off, I collected unemployment and may or may not have supplemented that with cash from working for a house painter. I'm not sure about that....I just remember having a lot of money after that. Maybe I invested well.... I worked for other companies after that, some in similar size to Ratmo but none as good as Ratmo had been in the 90's. Are any companies close to that good today? Well, construction is hurting, of course, but evidently all the employee-fucking changes that probably happened at your job too didn't actually keep that from happening, did they now?
And they're still not done with us yet.
Ratmo actually treated us pretty good during the Clinton years. They offered us a Simple IRA that they matched our contributions to, to the tune of 3%. One year they surprised us by rewarding us and instituting a Paid Time Off policy where we could earn up to a weeks paid vacation. Every six months I was eligible for 50 cent raises. Insurance was free for individual employees and reasonable for familes. Twice a year they would cater lunch for us and all the other trades on big jobs. Closer to home, they sprung for pizza and pop at meetings when the IRA or safety was discussed. Christmas meant a company party at a fine dining establishment. So what happened?
GW Bush happened. All these goodies began to go away about the very moment he took office. It was as if I memo went out that day: "Fuck these motherfuckers! They can ALL be replaced!"
This was true. First they went for the 12 man finishing crew, laying off ten of those guys and subbing out the bulk of the work to an outfit that employed illegal aliens of the Mexican persuasion. Word was that a consultant had consulted this idea to them. Yes, it does make business sense at many levels to not have responsibility for your employees. Not paying workman's comp for them is a huge savings alone. No PTO, no drug tests- no etc. etc. etc. All this works well for the Chinese I might add before any repugs in the non-reading audience get too patriotic. In fact, they do it better....
The finishers were a warning that most all of us were finished as well. We were regularly warned that we could be next. In fact, saying 'good morning' to our diminutive boss, Little Jimmy, usually was met with the response: "Y'all motherfuckers can be replaced by Mexicans!!!" instead of the usual, 'And good morning to you!' Little Jimmy hadn't changed with the appointment of Bush to the presidency. He had always been a prick. The only difference was, his prickness was now sanctioned from the top tier of the company. The idea was to get us to quit and not be eligible for unemployment. But, that didn't take. As I used to hold my hand up about five feet three inches in the air, one inch above Little Jimmy's head, I used to tell him: "You must be this tall to fuck with me."
Well, that didn't help my association with him but, after five some years of him being him, it really didn't hurt either as you might think. He was a prick no matter how nice you were to him. Might as well have some fun. Have you ever seen me on Topix? LOL!
The handwriting had been on the wall since they fired the finishers. They got me and 15 of the painters in February of '02 with Little Jimmy citing 'Osama Bin Laden and 9/11...' as the *reason* until I, speaking for the crew, told him to shut his fucking midget mouth up. That the company had him, all by his little lonesome, break the news to those of us who had bothered to show up that day spoke how little they cared about his life, nevermind our own. He was visibly shaken from the get go.
Laid-off, I collected unemployment and may or may not have supplemented that with cash from working for a house painter. I'm not sure about that....I just remember having a lot of money after that. Maybe I invested well.... I worked for other companies after that, some in similar size to Ratmo but none as good as Ratmo had been in the 90's. Are any companies close to that good today? Well, construction is hurting, of course, but evidently all the employee-fucking changes that probably happened at your job too didn't actually keep that from happening, did they now?
And they're still not done with us yet.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Shovel ready!
You know who doesn't read this blog? Well, thousands of people, that's who. But, that's not important now.
Two fellas who evidently do not read my blog, rolled up in a van earlier today and offered to shovel my concrete areas. This was all well and good but, I was just about done.
"Well, it's still snowing, sir" the passenger astutely observed. "Catch you later?"
I thanked them but, no thanks. With 6 to 8 inches expected, regular non-readers might recall that my strategery (sic) is to get it while I can before it gets me. Luckily, this storm has produced voluminous but light, fluffy snow that a wore-out, broke-down old Ferrerman can pretty much push out of the way in under ten minutes. Not bad at all.
It's a veritable winter wonderland out there! Enjoy!
Two fellas who evidently do not read my blog, rolled up in a van earlier today and offered to shovel my concrete areas. This was all well and good but, I was just about done.
"Well, it's still snowing, sir" the passenger astutely observed. "Catch you later?"
I thanked them but, no thanks. With 6 to 8 inches expected, regular non-readers might recall that my strategery (sic) is to get it while I can before it gets me. Luckily, this storm has produced voluminous but light, fluffy snow that a wore-out, broke-down old Ferrerman can pretty much push out of the way in under ten minutes. Not bad at all.
It's a veritable winter wonderland out there! Enjoy!
The Waitress Protection Program
Back in the day....I invented the Waitress Protection Program.
Well, OK, I named it. There had been gentlemen before me and after me, it's just that none of them were Ferrermen with a playful, creative streak.
The restaurant/bar business usually involves late hours, some cash and often crazy ex-boyfriends/spouses. The place I worked was actually a safe, suburban neighborhood but, as we all know, bad things can happen anywhere, anytime. And parking was such that you might have to walk a block or two to your car. The WPP was a service all us guys performed for any waitress who asked. If a woman was having trouble with an ex, a bartender or cook would see them safely to their car. I don't recall any waitress getting jumped by her ex on our watch so, it must have worked. And for one couple, Steve and Lynn, it helped romance blossom. Steve was built like a brick wall- literally all cinder blocks and rebar on a concrete foundation with a brick venneer that the diminutive Lynn saw through easily. Nice couple. And, OK, Steve just worked out and was actually flesh, bones etc. (I'm working here- give me some license!)
I've seen gentlemen take up for ladies in the threads and it's rarely pretty, nor does it end well. You get a bunch of imaginary people going at it on the internet and things are bound to go crazy. No gentleman wants to sit passively at his keyboard while some misogynist asshole screams "bitch! C-word! Whore!" at a woman but, there's nothing but bandwidth between you and the fuckin' pussy so, what are you gonna do? The internet tough guy act is so easy a caveman could do it. I don't know why guys bother. It almost always exacerbates the situation.
The other night, however, I had grown tired of one jerks dismissal of some of my female posting friends as "whores, prostitutes, hookers, dykes" and other unfriendly adjectives. My friends can take care of themselves. Quite well, actually. These are grown women who, though undeserving of such vitriol, can "take it" and dish it out far better than their opponent. You know, if you start cussing people out on the internet, you've already lost the battle and the war. As well as any self respect you may have claimed to once have.
If a dude claims to have been a combat Marine...and a Christian...and a loving husband and father....how does he rationalize spewing filthy invectives at a woman, IRL or on the internet?
Well, in the name of conservative politics, of course! Who knew? Liberal women are, it seems, "hookers" for democratic party ideals, he later explained. He simply meant that they prostitute themselves to a cause that is so evidently destroying the country he fought for in Viet Nam while in gradeschool. Thus, he's a patriotic warrior of sorts.
Sheesh. The dude had actually 'cleared a path' for this internet fight, asking others to 'step aside' because I had wondered if he spoke to his real life wife in this manner. I'm guessing he anticipated that I would then call his woman bad names because, she has claimed to be a democrat in the past.
Well, that wasn't gonna happen. I already knew that I didn't talk to liberal women that way. I just wondered aloud if he did. You know- the ol', "do you kiss your mother with that mouth???" Very effective. He had claimed he had a PHD in USMC trained 'psych ops'. I guessed he had missed the class where, lacking internet killing capabilities, you have to know not to get locked in a corner by your adversary who is an accomplished painter who knows, you always paint your way out of the room, especially if you are painting a floor. On the internet, Painting 101 trumps Psych Ops.
Lacking sufficient skills in the gentlemanly art of internet combat, my adversary was easily defeated, left to only explain his vitriolic rampage by proclaiming his enduring love and respect for his wife who- by the way- would rather be with him than Ferrerman any day. The things couples discuss in the bedroom! Oh my....
He also later apologized to the woman he had most recently called a whore.
*******
He had never slept in a better bed, Ferrerman decided.
Well, OK, I named it. There had been gentlemen before me and after me, it's just that none of them were Ferrermen with a playful, creative streak.
The restaurant/bar business usually involves late hours, some cash and often crazy ex-boyfriends/spouses. The place I worked was actually a safe, suburban neighborhood but, as we all know, bad things can happen anywhere, anytime. And parking was such that you might have to walk a block or two to your car. The WPP was a service all us guys performed for any waitress who asked. If a woman was having trouble with an ex, a bartender or cook would see them safely to their car. I don't recall any waitress getting jumped by her ex on our watch so, it must have worked. And for one couple, Steve and Lynn, it helped romance blossom. Steve was built like a brick wall- literally all cinder blocks and rebar on a concrete foundation with a brick venneer that the diminutive Lynn saw through easily. Nice couple. And, OK, Steve just worked out and was actually flesh, bones etc. (I'm working here- give me some license!)
I've seen gentlemen take up for ladies in the threads and it's rarely pretty, nor does it end well. You get a bunch of imaginary people going at it on the internet and things are bound to go crazy. No gentleman wants to sit passively at his keyboard while some misogynist asshole screams "bitch! C-word! Whore!" at a woman but, there's nothing but bandwidth between you and the fuckin' pussy so, what are you gonna do? The internet tough guy act is so easy a caveman could do it. I don't know why guys bother. It almost always exacerbates the situation.
The other night, however, I had grown tired of one jerks dismissal of some of my female posting friends as "whores, prostitutes, hookers, dykes" and other unfriendly adjectives. My friends can take care of themselves. Quite well, actually. These are grown women who, though undeserving of such vitriol, can "take it" and dish it out far better than their opponent. You know, if you start cussing people out on the internet, you've already lost the battle and the war. As well as any self respect you may have claimed to once have.
If a dude claims to have been a combat Marine...and a Christian...and a loving husband and father....how does he rationalize spewing filthy invectives at a woman, IRL or on the internet?
Well, in the name of conservative politics, of course! Who knew? Liberal women are, it seems, "hookers" for democratic party ideals, he later explained. He simply meant that they prostitute themselves to a cause that is so evidently destroying the country he fought for in Viet Nam while in gradeschool. Thus, he's a patriotic warrior of sorts.
Sheesh. The dude had actually 'cleared a path' for this internet fight, asking others to 'step aside' because I had wondered if he spoke to his real life wife in this manner. I'm guessing he anticipated that I would then call his woman bad names because, she has claimed to be a democrat in the past.
Well, that wasn't gonna happen. I already knew that I didn't talk to liberal women that way. I just wondered aloud if he did. You know- the ol', "do you kiss your mother with that mouth???" Very effective. He had claimed he had a PHD in USMC trained 'psych ops'. I guessed he had missed the class where, lacking internet killing capabilities, you have to know not to get locked in a corner by your adversary who is an accomplished painter who knows, you always paint your way out of the room, especially if you are painting a floor. On the internet, Painting 101 trumps Psych Ops.
Lacking sufficient skills in the gentlemanly art of internet combat, my adversary was easily defeated, left to only explain his vitriolic rampage by proclaiming his enduring love and respect for his wife who- by the way- would rather be with him than Ferrerman any day. The things couples discuss in the bedroom! Oh my....
He also later apologized to the woman he had most recently called a whore.
*******
He had never slept in a better bed, Ferrerman decided.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
My right foot.
I'm bigger than most men. I know this from showering in health clubs and from watching porn. Many of the men in porn just don't measure up to a Ferrerman. There's a reason some of them keep their shoes and socks on.
HUH?
Um, I'm talking about my rather large, right big toe. What did you think?
I've got a favorite pair of deck shoes I wear around the house because they are comfortable as all get out. For all intents and purposes though, they should have been in a landfill long ago. The thing is years ago I tossed a better pair just because the heels had worn down and they were beginning to deteriorate and I've regretted it ever since. I got good use out of them for sure but, could have gotten more. That the right big toe has broken through makes them that much more comfortable. I don't like wearing shoes but they are necessary. Except for this pair and my work boots, they all feel tight on me and kinda constricting.
And, I'm not deformed. The left big toe is the same size but does not cause it's side to wear out. The only thing I can figure is, like being right-handed, I am right-toed, as well. I also don't look at men's feet (or women's) and I was just being cute about the porn angle and I sure don't belong to any Health Club or shower with men. I'm also wearing just socks right now 'cause it's freaking January. And, I've never seen the film, 'My Left Foot' though Daniel Day Lewis is a great actor.
I hope this clears that up!
HUH?
Um, I'm talking about my rather large, right big toe. What did you think?
I've got a favorite pair of deck shoes I wear around the house because they are comfortable as all get out. For all intents and purposes though, they should have been in a landfill long ago. The thing is years ago I tossed a better pair just because the heels had worn down and they were beginning to deteriorate and I've regretted it ever since. I got good use out of them for sure but, could have gotten more. That the right big toe has broken through makes them that much more comfortable. I don't like wearing shoes but they are necessary. Except for this pair and my work boots, they all feel tight on me and kinda constricting.
And, I'm not deformed. The left big toe is the same size but does not cause it's side to wear out. The only thing I can figure is, like being right-handed, I am right-toed, as well. I also don't look at men's feet (or women's) and I was just being cute about the porn angle and I sure don't belong to any Health Club or shower with men. I'm also wearing just socks right now 'cause it's freaking January. And, I've never seen the film, 'My Left Foot' though Daniel Day Lewis is a great actor.
I hope this clears that up!
It's only you and me and we just disagree
He has some good ideas, I guess. The 'war on drugs' is a ridiculous waste of money and, if a person wants to fire up a joint at the house, who is the government to say they can't? Marijuana is a natural plant with useful medicinal properties as well and I think that, as a doctor, he recognizes that as well. However, as a cantankerous old man, his musing that the Civil Rights Act is unconstitutional and if a redneck asshole wants to bar Blacks from his crappy diner, his individual, sacred right to do so supercedes any rights that society in general should have.
Remember when democrats/liberals used to be the nit-pickers? The one's who, to protect the rights of the athiest or Jewish kid got prayer in school banned? (Ferrerman's note: This also is rumored to have something to do with the "separation of church/state" also in the constitution and, currently underfire as well.) Remember how outraged some folks were at this? And, 'Affirmative Action'? Why, they demanded to know, were minorities given preferential treatment over the majority?
Well, because if we, as a society, do not look after our rights, who will look after ours?
There is no smaller minority than you, the individual. However, you are also the majority at least as far as you are concerned in your everyday life. This is where it gets complicated. You are all about you but, your neighbor (let's call him, 'Fred'- Hi Fred!) is all about Fred. We are, in fact, a nation of you's and me's. There's 300+ million of us you's and me's. Simply, we can't all make up our own rules as we see fit as we go through life being you's and me's. This would be chaos and anarchy. It's already tough enough that some individuals amongst us choose to end others lives because they don't like them or they refused to hand over money that you wanted. Society has laws to deal with these issues. It's not perfect and it's usually after the fact but, it's the best way of doing things. The idea is to encourage others to not do criminal acts. It's a good idea.
I'm not saying that a Ron Paul presidency would be anarchy but, it would be a huge step in that direction. It's a step that we as a society do not need to take. We already have the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness and that's neither constricting or wide-fucking-open to interpretation as some would have you think. It's common sense. You live here, you play by our rules. The architect does not own the building and neither does the janitor. We all do have an interest in it though. Yes, some more than others. That's the way it is, was and always will be.
WE THE PEOPLE, not ME THE PEOPLE.
Remember when democrats/liberals used to be the nit-pickers? The one's who, to protect the rights of the athiest or Jewish kid got prayer in school banned? (Ferrerman's note: This also is rumored to have something to do with the "separation of church/state" also in the constitution and, currently underfire as well.) Remember how outraged some folks were at this? And, 'Affirmative Action'? Why, they demanded to know, were minorities given preferential treatment over the majority?
Well, because if we, as a society, do not look after our rights, who will look after ours?
There is no smaller minority than you, the individual. However, you are also the majority at least as far as you are concerned in your everyday life. This is where it gets complicated. You are all about you but, your neighbor (let's call him, 'Fred'- Hi Fred!) is all about Fred. We are, in fact, a nation of you's and me's. There's 300+ million of us you's and me's. Simply, we can't all make up our own rules as we see fit as we go through life being you's and me's. This would be chaos and anarchy. It's already tough enough that some individuals amongst us choose to end others lives because they don't like them or they refused to hand over money that you wanted. Society has laws to deal with these issues. It's not perfect and it's usually after the fact but, it's the best way of doing things. The idea is to encourage others to not do criminal acts. It's a good idea.
I'm not saying that a Ron Paul presidency would be anarchy but, it would be a huge step in that direction. It's a step that we as a society do not need to take. We already have the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness and that's neither constricting or wide-fucking-open to interpretation as some would have you think. It's common sense. You live here, you play by our rules. The architect does not own the building and neither does the janitor. We all do have an interest in it though. Yes, some more than others. That's the way it is, was and always will be.
WE THE PEOPLE, not ME THE PEOPLE.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
In this episode, Ferrerman goes crazy!
I'm very upset about how the Italian government has handled that cruise ship accident.
I'm upset that they are handling it! What in the HELL right does government have to arrest an individual simply because he cannot drive a boat? And the owners of the cruise ship- job creators, by the way- have a right to hire whoever they please, even if those employees are pussies who scamper away when there is drama. If you don't like the way the captain drives- don't go on the cruise!
Now, I know what you're going to say: "Temporarily insane Ferrerman, the government has duty to protect it's citizens! You take that back!"
Well, no, they don't and I will not. The government's only duty, if you read the Constitution in the dark and listen to rightwing radio, is to cower in fear of the citizens. That's it. And it's too big at that. This is why we have men spending hundreds of millions of dollars trying to become president so they'll have less to do. The job only pays $400k a year anyway. That's not enough for leader of the free world so, cut back on the duties a little bit.
Closer to home- the BP oil spill. The government has no right to criticize BP for a mistake that Barack Obama's secret army surely caused anyway. If you hate America and don't like British Petroleum spilling oil into our ocean, don't buy their gas! It's that simple. If a business fails, it fails.
"Well, temporarily insane Ferrerman, the courts shall see that millions of dollars paid by the cruise line will help that failure along because people died and the environment was destroyed and the survivors deserve to be compensated for their losses! Jerk!"
Well, show me what part of the Constitution says that! NO PART! Tort reform is necessary. Aren't you sick and tired of people getting rich off of our hard-working corporate citizens by whining to the courts about the death and/or dismemberment of their loved ones? Again- these are job creators people! They stand on their own two feet, why don't you?
RON PAUL 2012!
I'm upset that they are handling it! What in the HELL right does government have to arrest an individual simply because he cannot drive a boat? And the owners of the cruise ship- job creators, by the way- have a right to hire whoever they please, even if those employees are pussies who scamper away when there is drama. If you don't like the way the captain drives- don't go on the cruise!
Now, I know what you're going to say: "Temporarily insane Ferrerman, the government has duty to protect it's citizens! You take that back!"
Well, no, they don't and I will not. The government's only duty, if you read the Constitution in the dark and listen to rightwing radio, is to cower in fear of the citizens. That's it. And it's too big at that. This is why we have men spending hundreds of millions of dollars trying to become president so they'll have less to do. The job only pays $400k a year anyway. That's not enough for leader of the free world so, cut back on the duties a little bit.
Closer to home- the BP oil spill. The government has no right to criticize BP for a mistake that Barack Obama's secret army surely caused anyway. If you hate America and don't like British Petroleum spilling oil into our ocean, don't buy their gas! It's that simple. If a business fails, it fails.
"Well, temporarily insane Ferrerman, the courts shall see that millions of dollars paid by the cruise line will help that failure along because people died and the environment was destroyed and the survivors deserve to be compensated for their losses! Jerk!"
Well, show me what part of the Constitution says that! NO PART! Tort reform is necessary. Aren't you sick and tired of people getting rich off of our hard-working corporate citizens by whining to the courts about the death and/or dismemberment of their loved ones? Again- these are job creators people! They stand on their own two feet, why don't you?
RON PAUL 2012!
Monday, January 16, 2012
What can I get cha?
Back in the late twentieth century, I was a bartender. It's not a lifetime occupation for most people so, inquiring minds often wanted to know what my 'real job' was. Was I a student, working my way through law school perhaps? Work in a factory? Sell real estate? No. Well, did I do anything resembling honest work?
I did painting on the side when stuff came up but, frankly, the bar money was good and, given the late hours and the whoring I did after work, I didn't have to have two full-time jobs. At times I worked with my BIL painting and hanging paper for him. He'd say he'd pick me up at eight instead of the usual six-ish for a 7am start because he knew I was used to working nights. I said don't worry about that as I can get my ass up early enough. But, he insisted. It occured to me that he wanted to sleep an extra hour and I was the reason. He's a very smart guy.
So, one afternoon this dude is sitting at the bar and he needs to know what my real job is. I tell him I paint on the side and he feigned interest in that for a bit but, clearly was going through the motions of Bar Talk 101, a course I had actually barely passed in Bartending School. If I hadn't gone on a basketball scholarship.... He then asks what I did in my spare time that might be more interesting than painting. Well, then as now, I write.
"Have you been published?"
No, I hadn't.
"Then you're not a writer."
Oh. Well, that's one way of looking at it. It might even be the way of looking at it. Hell, I was in my twenties. My goal wasn't to write the great American novel or a sitcom. I just enjoyed writing then as now. I thought the guy was kinda ignorant and dismissive. I didn't like him. I asked what he did in his spare time (when he wasn't drinking in a bar at 2pm, annoying a bartender) and he replied:
"I play golf."
Are you in the PGA?
"No", he was not.
Then you ain't no golfer, says I.
He wasn't at all nonplussed by this. I had never seen the guy before and he left shortly after this exchange. Honestly, I think he was kind of a jerk and used to being treated like a jerk in kind and really didn't seem to care. Like maybe that was his real hobby?
Tending bar, I think, prepared me for the internet. I had to be quick and think on my feet. And, like 'Roadhouse', I had to be nice until it was time to not be nice. We weren't beating people up but, verbal sparring could break out at any moment. I was ready far more often than not. When I was good I was very, very good. And when I was bad, I was better.
Last call!
I did painting on the side when stuff came up but, frankly, the bar money was good and, given the late hours and the whoring I did after work, I didn't have to have two full-time jobs. At times I worked with my BIL painting and hanging paper for him. He'd say he'd pick me up at eight instead of the usual six-ish for a 7am start because he knew I was used to working nights. I said don't worry about that as I can get my ass up early enough. But, he insisted. It occured to me that he wanted to sleep an extra hour and I was the reason. He's a very smart guy.
So, one afternoon this dude is sitting at the bar and he needs to know what my real job is. I tell him I paint on the side and he feigned interest in that for a bit but, clearly was going through the motions of Bar Talk 101, a course I had actually barely passed in Bartending School. If I hadn't gone on a basketball scholarship.... He then asks what I did in my spare time that might be more interesting than painting. Well, then as now, I write.
"Have you been published?"
No, I hadn't.
"Then you're not a writer."
Oh. Well, that's one way of looking at it. It might even be the way of looking at it. Hell, I was in my twenties. My goal wasn't to write the great American novel or a sitcom. I just enjoyed writing then as now. I thought the guy was kinda ignorant and dismissive. I didn't like him. I asked what he did in his spare time (when he wasn't drinking in a bar at 2pm, annoying a bartender) and he replied:
"I play golf."
Are you in the PGA?
"No", he was not.
Then you ain't no golfer, says I.
He wasn't at all nonplussed by this. I had never seen the guy before and he left shortly after this exchange. Honestly, I think he was kind of a jerk and used to being treated like a jerk in kind and really didn't seem to care. Like maybe that was his real hobby?
Tending bar, I think, prepared me for the internet. I had to be quick and think on my feet. And, like 'Roadhouse', I had to be nice until it was time to not be nice. We weren't beating people up but, verbal sparring could break out at any moment. I was ready far more often than not. When I was good I was very, very good. And when I was bad, I was better.
Last call!
Tell us about the rabbits, Ferrerman.
I looked out the window and saw the body of a rabbit in the street. Yikes. There's been one camped out by my air conditioner the past week or so. I went outside to have a smoke and check on him or her....
My little cutie was present and accounted for, hunkered down in a ball of it's warmth, wondering where the tasty green things were and who exactly had ordered all this white stuff.
Bunnies, like a lot of animals, don't have a lot of street smarts. Their defense technique seems to be playing statue when a Ferrerman appears. I can actually get as little as three feet or so away from one before he scampers off. Once last summer, one sat down next to me for a full five minutes. Whether the bunny felt comfortable by me or was too dang scared to move, we'll never know. But, we co-exist pretty good. I notice they like to eat the broadleaf weeds in the backyard and this is not a bad thing. Come Spring, i'll throw down some shade grass seed before the Maples get full. Why I need more grass to mow is a story for another day. It's the suburbs.... Nuff said?
This reminded me of a horrible day in Memphis, several years ago. Cop friend, David, knocked on my door one morning.
"Ferrerman", he said, "I think Josey Wales got run over".
Damn. Josey Wales was my part time cat. Like most free-range kittys, he had another family and I was used to him being gone for days and even a week at a time. Despite his wandering, he knew his name and, yes, he did answer to it. I admired his catitude. Though we had a few fights and I had even pulled my pistol on him and he had drawn blood from me, he was very affectionate. He was always out fighting and or fucking. A neighbor gal came a-knocking once and informed me that Josey had impregnated their cat. I told her Josey wasn't gonna pay child support! She kinda took me serious at that and explained that she had only meant to offer me a kitten. I thanked her but passed on that.
So, David and I walked to the entrance to the complex. Though smashed, I recognized his gray/white coat. David set up orange cones and while I shoveled up the remains, he called the city. It was a fucked up day.
I was in the habit of looking out the backdoor for Josey (and checking for criminal activity) and it hurt every time I did that the rest of the day. That afternoon my buddy, Kip called and I told him what had happened. As I absentmindedly opened the door, in ran the Josey Wales, meowing, cussing me out for taking so long! I told Kip he was back and hung up. I ran over to Josey and hugged his kittycat self.
Of course, he had no idea of the hurt I had felt that day. He's a cat, ya know. You just feed them, right?
My little cutie was present and accounted for, hunkered down in a ball of it's warmth, wondering where the tasty green things were and who exactly had ordered all this white stuff.
Bunnies, like a lot of animals, don't have a lot of street smarts. Their defense technique seems to be playing statue when a Ferrerman appears. I can actually get as little as three feet or so away from one before he scampers off. Once last summer, one sat down next to me for a full five minutes. Whether the bunny felt comfortable by me or was too dang scared to move, we'll never know. But, we co-exist pretty good. I notice they like to eat the broadleaf weeds in the backyard and this is not a bad thing. Come Spring, i'll throw down some shade grass seed before the Maples get full. Why I need more grass to mow is a story for another day. It's the suburbs.... Nuff said?
This reminded me of a horrible day in Memphis, several years ago. Cop friend, David, knocked on my door one morning.
"Ferrerman", he said, "I think Josey Wales got run over".
Damn. Josey Wales was my part time cat. Like most free-range kittys, he had another family and I was used to him being gone for days and even a week at a time. Despite his wandering, he knew his name and, yes, he did answer to it. I admired his catitude. Though we had a few fights and I had even pulled my pistol on him and he had drawn blood from me, he was very affectionate. He was always out fighting and or fucking. A neighbor gal came a-knocking once and informed me that Josey had impregnated their cat. I told her Josey wasn't gonna pay child support! She kinda took me serious at that and explained that she had only meant to offer me a kitten. I thanked her but passed on that.
So, David and I walked to the entrance to the complex. Though smashed, I recognized his gray/white coat. David set up orange cones and while I shoveled up the remains, he called the city. It was a fucked up day.
I was in the habit of looking out the backdoor for Josey (and checking for criminal activity) and it hurt every time I did that the rest of the day. That afternoon my buddy, Kip called and I told him what had happened. As I absentmindedly opened the door, in ran the Josey Wales, meowing, cussing me out for taking so long! I told Kip he was back and hung up. I ran over to Josey and hugged his kittycat self.
Of course, he had no idea of the hurt I had felt that day. He's a cat, ya know. You just feed them, right?
Support Our Fake Troops!
Maybe all wars should be fought this way. Get a few guys who can't quite get their stories to gel, on the internet and have them tell those stories on threads. Nobody really get's killed or wounded, no innocent civilians get bombed. Just whoever gets the good icons wins! The bad icons go to liberal, communist, mooseslime loving cowards!
Several years ago I saw an old co-worker in the beer store. After an exchange of pleasantries, Mike told me that Karl K. had died.
Did Karl tell you he had died, I asked.
Mike was nearly literally rolling on the floor, laughing his ass off.
Karl had been one of the most prolific liars I had never known. To my knowledge, I had never met him. He had worked everywhere I had worked though and so, we knew the same people. His lies were so ridiculous they were funny. He had once fallen off six sections of scaffolding, spraying paint all the way down until he hit the deck. Of course, he survived, climbed back up and finished the job. I heard that one and asked if he was a joker. Nope. Karl was the kind of guy who just had to out-do everything anyone else did. Someone had probably fell off one section so, he had to do six. He was quite famous for his lies in the paint world. Other liars paled in comparison to him.
I'm sure Karl claimed military service as well but, it's not my job to remember all his stories. Not even sure it was his. Many liars forget their bullshit as soon as they speak it and move on to something else. Karl was likely pathological in his lies. Others tell lies for a *reason* of sorts, not necessarily to self-promote but to promote a cause. These people are often called politicians.
It's not good enough to simply blindly support a war. Some need to have the background of service to *authenticate* their support. "I was THERE, man!" This qualifies that you know what you're talking about and, on internet forums, you're opponent does not. In fact, you know he's a commie-loving, mooselime faggot because you know one when you post to one! I bet you don't even know what an MRE is! What was your MOS?! You don't even have one because you have no idea what it is! I will call in an airstrike on your lib ass!
It goes that way. The first liar doesn't have a chance. Some become Gunny Hartman in "Full Metal Jacket". This works fairly well on the internet because no one can see who they're dealing with. Real life can be a different story when it is readily apparent that the person isn't actually ten feet tall and bullet-proof. On paint crews I have worked on, some guys lied to puff themselves up and/or warn others not to fuck with them. That they have killed before, means they can and will kill again....
I had a fella chat me up one day. He asked me if I was the same age as "Gary". Indeed I was. "So, you were in the war too?" What war would that be? "Vietnam, man!"
No. I was one of those pussies who used my gradeschool and highschool deferments. I feel shame....
We pulled out of 'Nam in '73. The war officially ended in '75, the year Gary and I graduated different highschools together. Gary would later change his service to Operation Desert Storm after an actual VietNam veteran pinned him up against the wall on a job and told him that if Gary told one more motherfucking lie about serving in 'Nam, he was gonna beat his fucking ass. Desert storm became a much safer and even beliveable story.
But, fool me once, shame on you. My honesty didn't endear me to Gary. He never told me he had been in 'Nam or Desert Storm because we were the same age. These were stories he told others. It just made me doubt pretty much everything the guy ever said. I mean, the guy told me he could paint! Couldn't prove that to me though....sloppy motherfucker....
On the internet such stories back up a person's hawkish views. You can advocate bombing Iran because you've been there and though you know first hand that war is hell, this also means it's necessary to defeat the liberal-socialist agenda in that country....
Okie doakie....
Just how is it that anecdotal stories trump fact? One old guy on Topix likes to talk about being in the Marines. That's great. Though a few million have served, only him and a friend of his are *actual* Marines. Everybody else is lying. There's little doubt in my mind that either one of these guys were in the Marines. It's just that one did his 'Nam servivce before we got there and the other, after we left. The first guy got angry with me when I mentioned a guy I had worked with had been a combat Marine in 'Nam. The man posted back that I was full of shit- I wasn't there!
Evidently, his MOS wasn't reading comprehension. Again, a guy I worked with.... I corrected him. Well, I tried....
It turned out my former co-worker hadn't been a Marine either! Who knew? Not him. In fact, according to this guy, no one on Topix has ever been a combat Marine but him and the other guy! I guess that no one can come out of any war without being a hawkish, war-loving republican. To hear them tell it....
Maybe that's the way it should be? Our liars against their liars. No one gets hurt. The only casualty is truth.
Several years ago I saw an old co-worker in the beer store. After an exchange of pleasantries, Mike told me that Karl K. had died.
Did Karl tell you he had died, I asked.
Mike was nearly literally rolling on the floor, laughing his ass off.
Karl had been one of the most prolific liars I had never known. To my knowledge, I had never met him. He had worked everywhere I had worked though and so, we knew the same people. His lies were so ridiculous they were funny. He had once fallen off six sections of scaffolding, spraying paint all the way down until he hit the deck. Of course, he survived, climbed back up and finished the job. I heard that one and asked if he was a joker. Nope. Karl was the kind of guy who just had to out-do everything anyone else did. Someone had probably fell off one section so, he had to do six. He was quite famous for his lies in the paint world. Other liars paled in comparison to him.
I'm sure Karl claimed military service as well but, it's not my job to remember all his stories. Not even sure it was his. Many liars forget their bullshit as soon as they speak it and move on to something else. Karl was likely pathological in his lies. Others tell lies for a *reason* of sorts, not necessarily to self-promote but to promote a cause. These people are often called politicians.
It's not good enough to simply blindly support a war. Some need to have the background of service to *authenticate* their support. "I was THERE, man!" This qualifies that you know what you're talking about and, on internet forums, you're opponent does not. In fact, you know he's a commie-loving, mooselime faggot because you know one when you post to one! I bet you don't even know what an MRE is! What was your MOS?! You don't even have one because you have no idea what it is! I will call in an airstrike on your lib ass!
It goes that way. The first liar doesn't have a chance. Some become Gunny Hartman in "Full Metal Jacket". This works fairly well on the internet because no one can see who they're dealing with. Real life can be a different story when it is readily apparent that the person isn't actually ten feet tall and bullet-proof. On paint crews I have worked on, some guys lied to puff themselves up and/or warn others not to fuck with them. That they have killed before, means they can and will kill again....
I had a fella chat me up one day. He asked me if I was the same age as "Gary". Indeed I was. "So, you were in the war too?" What war would that be? "Vietnam, man!"
No. I was one of those pussies who used my gradeschool and highschool deferments. I feel shame....
We pulled out of 'Nam in '73. The war officially ended in '75, the year Gary and I graduated different highschools together. Gary would later change his service to Operation Desert Storm after an actual VietNam veteran pinned him up against the wall on a job and told him that if Gary told one more motherfucking lie about serving in 'Nam, he was gonna beat his fucking ass. Desert storm became a much safer and even beliveable story.
But, fool me once, shame on you. My honesty didn't endear me to Gary. He never told me he had been in 'Nam or Desert Storm because we were the same age. These were stories he told others. It just made me doubt pretty much everything the guy ever said. I mean, the guy told me he could paint! Couldn't prove that to me though....sloppy motherfucker....
On the internet such stories back up a person's hawkish views. You can advocate bombing Iran because you've been there and though you know first hand that war is hell, this also means it's necessary to defeat the liberal-socialist agenda in that country....
Okie doakie....
Just how is it that anecdotal stories trump fact? One old guy on Topix likes to talk about being in the Marines. That's great. Though a few million have served, only him and a friend of his are *actual* Marines. Everybody else is lying. There's little doubt in my mind that either one of these guys were in the Marines. It's just that one did his 'Nam servivce before we got there and the other, after we left. The first guy got angry with me when I mentioned a guy I had worked with had been a combat Marine in 'Nam. The man posted back that I was full of shit- I wasn't there!
Evidently, his MOS wasn't reading comprehension. Again, a guy I worked with.... I corrected him. Well, I tried....
It turned out my former co-worker hadn't been a Marine either! Who knew? Not him. In fact, according to this guy, no one on Topix has ever been a combat Marine but him and the other guy! I guess that no one can come out of any war without being a hawkish, war-loving republican. To hear them tell it....
Maybe that's the way it should be? Our liars against their liars. No one gets hurt. The only casualty is truth.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
PISSED!
Four Marines.... allegedly.... were caught on tape, peeing on the bodies of dead, presumably Taliban fighters. This has caused much gnashing of teeth.
My bottom line is that this was an ignorant thing to do. It's just not enough to kill a man? I don't know what the Uniform Code of Military Justice says about this but, the superior officers are pissed and there will be some sort of Hell to pay after the incident is studied and adjudicated. Until then, the Court of Public Opinion (still the highest court in the land!) will have to argue punishment somewhere between dishonorable discharges and Congressional Medals of Honor for the alleged perpetrators. I can live with whatever the high command determines as punishment.
Lots of nasty, despicable things happen in war. The vast majority of us never experience the horrors of war but, we have a pretty good idea of what goes on from the better war movies we have seen, as well as our imaginations. It's by no means limited to soldiers and Marines. We lost 4,000+ men and women in Iraq. The locals there lost more than 100,000 men, women and children. You don't have to be trained soldier to know the horror of scraping a buddy's body parts off of your body. You can be an Iraqi mother, mourning the loss of her child. It's no less horrific on the sidelines as it is on either side of the battlefield.
In the usual internet ramblings about this pissing incident, some asshole brought up the popular urban myth of the hippies spitting on returning soldiers in the Vietnam era.
I say "myth" because it didn't happen. I say "it didn't happen" because it's never been documented that it had happened. But, more directly, I say it didn't happen because I just cannot fathom a man, fresh from the jungles of Vietnam, fighting to survive on the razor's edge of war, being spit upon by hippies and not ripping off their heads and shitting down their necks. What would you do, today, if someone spit on you, angry at your parking technique or support of a black presidents healthcare plan?
Yet some people perpetuate this myth because....it illustrates the communist disdain that liberal democrats have for Jesus Christ and the Goddamed FLAG!!?? I guess....
There'a a lot of fake veterans on Topix. It's a good place to be all that you can be. Not actually knowing these imaginary people in real life, there's always a chance that a certain someone really did fight in a war. But, sheesh....when a guy posts that he made 47 combat jumps with the Marines while serving in 'Nam and google tells you that the 173rd ARMY Airborne made the one combat jump in VietNam, well, who are you gonna believe? He's old war buddies with another Marine who managed to fight in 'Nam though only a year older than me while my candyass was dreaming about boning Suzy Rottencrotch in study hall. Ho hum. I'm not doubting they served, i'm just doubting their stories.
Could one guy- just one- post that he spent four years stateside during VietNam and that he pissed in the General's Cheerios one morning?
I'd believe that!
My bottom line is that this was an ignorant thing to do. It's just not enough to kill a man? I don't know what the Uniform Code of Military Justice says about this but, the superior officers are pissed and there will be some sort of Hell to pay after the incident is studied and adjudicated. Until then, the Court of Public Opinion (still the highest court in the land!) will have to argue punishment somewhere between dishonorable discharges and Congressional Medals of Honor for the alleged perpetrators. I can live with whatever the high command determines as punishment.
Lots of nasty, despicable things happen in war. The vast majority of us never experience the horrors of war but, we have a pretty good idea of what goes on from the better war movies we have seen, as well as our imaginations. It's by no means limited to soldiers and Marines. We lost 4,000+ men and women in Iraq. The locals there lost more than 100,000 men, women and children. You don't have to be trained soldier to know the horror of scraping a buddy's body parts off of your body. You can be an Iraqi mother, mourning the loss of her child. It's no less horrific on the sidelines as it is on either side of the battlefield.
In the usual internet ramblings about this pissing incident, some asshole brought up the popular urban myth of the hippies spitting on returning soldiers in the Vietnam era.
I say "myth" because it didn't happen. I say "it didn't happen" because it's never been documented that it had happened. But, more directly, I say it didn't happen because I just cannot fathom a man, fresh from the jungles of Vietnam, fighting to survive on the razor's edge of war, being spit upon by hippies and not ripping off their heads and shitting down their necks. What would you do, today, if someone spit on you, angry at your parking technique or support of a black presidents healthcare plan?
Yet some people perpetuate this myth because....it illustrates the communist disdain that liberal democrats have for Jesus Christ and the Goddamed FLAG!!?? I guess....
There'a a lot of fake veterans on Topix. It's a good place to be all that you can be. Not actually knowing these imaginary people in real life, there's always a chance that a certain someone really did fight in a war. But, sheesh....when a guy posts that he made 47 combat jumps with the Marines while serving in 'Nam and google tells you that the 173rd ARMY Airborne made the one combat jump in VietNam, well, who are you gonna believe? He's old war buddies with another Marine who managed to fight in 'Nam though only a year older than me while my candyass was dreaming about boning Suzy Rottencrotch in study hall. Ho hum. I'm not doubting they served, i'm just doubting their stories.
Could one guy- just one- post that he spent four years stateside during VietNam and that he pissed in the General's Cheerios one morning?
I'd believe that!
Ferrerman shovels it!
We finally got the shovel-ready snow that Obama promised! Bitch McConnell and the Boner guy tried to stall it in Congress but, the president did an end-around on them while they were out of session. Ha! Whupped 'em again, Josey!
It wasn't the four to eight inches he had promised though. You ladies know what I'm talking about. A bill starts out strong and then gets watered down via cuts and earmarks as the special interests get fed. We get what we get, after they're done getting theirs. Or, maybe the wind changes.
So, what I'm getting at is, I've got a system for shoveling snow that, interestingly enough, doesn't involve a snow blower. I've only been defeated once in recent memory and been forced to carbon footprint it. My system is to take ten minutes out of my busy life, AS the snow is falling, and get it every inch or two. For most snows this means simply pushing it out of the way while it's light and fluffy or before it gets too deep, wet and heavy. It's not only smart and easy to do it this way, it's heart smart. Once you get to a certain age, no matter how tough and strong you used to like to think you were, cold weather can be tougher and stronger. Snow is nothing to die for.
My system failed last year when the wind was whipping about so fiercely that I couldn't begin to keep up. We got twenty inches that day. I seriously looked at all that snow and contemplated reverting to my old system of letting it go until June. You Floridians know that's the best time to shovel snow. You know- before it gets too hot. I assume that's how they do it.
That day, I was out there with shovel in hand, plotting the deaths of the snow plow drivers who had added insult to injury by adding about four m-effing feet of snow to the driveway apron, when my lovely neighbor, Kate volunteered her snow blower. Kate's a wonderful person year 'round. You know that show on TNT, "Leverage"? She looks like the dark-haired, English gal's prettier sister. YES!
Oh Lord, that helped! But twenty inches of snow is a formidable opponent even with the gas-powered help. I made a mental note to ask Kate's husband, Jack, (who looks like the handsome guy on the Channel Two News, only handsomer- giving equal time to the ladies here, NOT being gay!) to purchase a self-propelled model for future freak storms. But, you know, that's asking a lot. I wouldn't even ask the less attractive neighbors that.
TWO HOURS later, it was finally a fait accompli! In American words, it was done.
I like my system better and it works 99% of the time. Perhaps in a previous life I was Amish. But, the snow needed killing that day and I needed heavy artillery.
And good neighbors.
It wasn't the four to eight inches he had promised though. You ladies know what I'm talking about. A bill starts out strong and then gets watered down via cuts and earmarks as the special interests get fed. We get what we get, after they're done getting theirs. Or, maybe the wind changes.
So, what I'm getting at is, I've got a system for shoveling snow that, interestingly enough, doesn't involve a snow blower. I've only been defeated once in recent memory and been forced to carbon footprint it. My system is to take ten minutes out of my busy life, AS the snow is falling, and get it every inch or two. For most snows this means simply pushing it out of the way while it's light and fluffy or before it gets too deep, wet and heavy. It's not only smart and easy to do it this way, it's heart smart. Once you get to a certain age, no matter how tough and strong you used to like to think you were, cold weather can be tougher and stronger. Snow is nothing to die for.
My system failed last year when the wind was whipping about so fiercely that I couldn't begin to keep up. We got twenty inches that day. I seriously looked at all that snow and contemplated reverting to my old system of letting it go until June. You Floridians know that's the best time to shovel snow. You know- before it gets too hot. I assume that's how they do it.
That day, I was out there with shovel in hand, plotting the deaths of the snow plow drivers who had added insult to injury by adding about four m-effing feet of snow to the driveway apron, when my lovely neighbor, Kate volunteered her snow blower. Kate's a wonderful person year 'round. You know that show on TNT, "Leverage"? She looks like the dark-haired, English gal's prettier sister. YES!
Oh Lord, that helped! But twenty inches of snow is a formidable opponent even with the gas-powered help. I made a mental note to ask Kate's husband, Jack, (who looks like the handsome guy on the Channel Two News, only handsomer- giving equal time to the ladies here, NOT being gay!) to purchase a self-propelled model for future freak storms. But, you know, that's asking a lot. I wouldn't even ask the less attractive neighbors that.
TWO HOURS later, it was finally a fait accompli! In American words, it was done.
I like my system better and it works 99% of the time. Perhaps in a previous life I was Amish. But, the snow needed killing that day and I needed heavy artillery.
And good neighbors.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
If nominated, I will not run...
Observant, dedicated non-reader, Annie, found where I have been nominated for the Topix Hall Of Fame. There's a website run by famous Topix nemisis, Ginny Hoge, where she has nominated me for this prestigious honor. Fellow nominees are my BFF, Hegel, truly interesting writer, The Debil and also a bunch of people I don't care about.
It's nice to be nominated but, if elected I probably won't serve. One reason is I don't know what I'd have to do and so, I don't wanna do anything. I also don't think I want my face done in bronze. Maybe they don't do that. I don't know. Still, it's nice and I do appreciate the sentiment. Usually you have to be inactive for five years and I won't be retiring anytime soon as clearly I'm at the top of my game.
I was the first Ferrerman to post on Topix. Ever. This is pretty special to me. I'm very proud to have broken down that barrier for all Ferrermen who may follow. Once I crossed that line, I crossed many more lines as many folks on Topix will tell you.
It should also be noted that I was the first bottom-spanker to post anywhere on Topix (other than The Human Sexuality Forum, I suppose). How many hundreds of women didn't even know they had spankable bottoms until Ferrerman came along? Maybe thousands.
Of course it hasn't all been moderate to severe spankings for deserving, exclusively female bottoms. I've had to deal with a ton of anti-Ferrerman sentiment for that (jealous bastards!) and several tons more for my liberal political views. It hasn't been easy....
Well, OK, yes it has! The thing about hate-filled, allegedly conservative reichtards is, they don't have a leg to stand on. Unless you're chatting with Idi Amin, you just can't justify killing or enslaving people because they are poor or because of their political views. Such types are preaching to their own choir of Idi's. I've dealt with that but, not countered it with much heart. What can you do with sociopathological political viewpoints on the internet? Can't change a moderates opinion but, you can finesse the shit out of them. The psycho's want you to out-psycho them. A Ferrerman doesn't lower his game that far.
And, it's all about game. Whether it's making dick jokes or charming women with spankable bottoms or fighting reichtards, it's all just a game. A game I think I play rather well- for a Ferrerman!
It's nice to be nominated but, if elected I probably won't serve. One reason is I don't know what I'd have to do and so, I don't wanna do anything. I also don't think I want my face done in bronze. Maybe they don't do that. I don't know. Still, it's nice and I do appreciate the sentiment. Usually you have to be inactive for five years and I won't be retiring anytime soon as clearly I'm at the top of my game.
I was the first Ferrerman to post on Topix. Ever. This is pretty special to me. I'm very proud to have broken down that barrier for all Ferrermen who may follow. Once I crossed that line, I crossed many more lines as many folks on Topix will tell you.
It should also be noted that I was the first bottom-spanker to post anywhere on Topix (other than The Human Sexuality Forum, I suppose). How many hundreds of women didn't even know they had spankable bottoms until Ferrerman came along? Maybe thousands.
Of course it hasn't all been moderate to severe spankings for deserving, exclusively female bottoms. I've had to deal with a ton of anti-Ferrerman sentiment for that (jealous bastards!) and several tons more for my liberal political views. It hasn't been easy....
Well, OK, yes it has! The thing about hate-filled, allegedly conservative reichtards is, they don't have a leg to stand on. Unless you're chatting with Idi Amin, you just can't justify killing or enslaving people because they are poor or because of their political views. Such types are preaching to their own choir of Idi's. I've dealt with that but, not countered it with much heart. What can you do with sociopathological political viewpoints on the internet? Can't change a moderates opinion but, you can finesse the shit out of them. The psycho's want you to out-psycho them. A Ferrerman doesn't lower his game that far.
And, it's all about game. Whether it's making dick jokes or charming women with spankable bottoms or fighting reichtards, it's all just a game. A game I think I play rather well- for a Ferrerman!
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
To pee or not to pee?
A couple years back I had an incident involving a folding ladder and my thumb. Yikes! I believe I covered that at the time. Regular dedicated non-readers will recall that I damn near broke my thumb and invented some new swear words in the process.
But, that hot, August night later found me out in the backyard, smoking a cigarette and suddenly needing to pee. Three o'clock in the am, wearing only boxers, I slipped Mr. Johnson out of the friendly confines and relieved myself.
You fellas know that it's very natural and freeing to pee outdoors, au natural. You ladies know that, given our equipment, it's pretty darn easy. Admit it- your jealous! Maybe some of you gals can write your names in the snow but, it requires a lot of jumping around while squatting. We just wave the wand around and thank god for cursive writing and that extra beer we had.
But, ya know, it is not legal to go around peeing in public, even on your own property. If you've ever been to Mardi Gras it seems that that is half the arrests their police make during Carnival. They need to be more generous with port-a-potties. The restaurants and bars get (understandably) snippy about non-patrons using their bathrooms. They like it to be pay as you go....
Anyways, I got to thinking about the water shortage- and were looking at a world-wide one soon- and it dawned on me that we could save untold billions(?) of gallons of water if we men would pee outside more. Do the math. Three and a half gallons to flush away a few cups of coffee or a couple of Millers? Times that by 150 million guys, several times a day. That's a lot of water! So, why not?
Well, it's a lot of dicks too and therein lies the rub.
The neighbors, most likely, do not want to see Ferrerman's penis several times a day. I drink a lot of coffee, water and have a few beers at times. Even the ones that do want to view, will tire of it soon enough. More importantly, their business is not my business. It's one thing to enjoy the warmth of a dark August night, definitely another the light of a January day. This isn't France or the French Quarter where any alley can be seen as a bathroom. And that there are 300 million plus people in this country alone and many of them are children or church-going old ladies, well, clearly we have to practice a bit of decorum and not let our private activities go public.
Perhaps though, in what's left of my lifetime, the water shortage will become very real. The GOP can convince you that we can't live without oil but, I promise you, we CANNOT live without water. I don't know if they are stupid and are trying to get rid of the EPA so they can again destroy lakes and rivers to facilitate the need for water resources that their friends own but, I wouldn't be surprised. Their goal does seem to be to get out of this life with as much money as possible, as if that would impress the God that likely isn't even there....
Think about this the next time you plunk down a couple of dollars for a plastic bottle filled with water that may be the same as what comes from your own tap. Think about the 60's when gasoline was 25 cents a gallon. Go fill your tank now.
And, if the rest of the neighborhood is asleep tonight, water your rose bushes. Why not?
But, that hot, August night later found me out in the backyard, smoking a cigarette and suddenly needing to pee. Three o'clock in the am, wearing only boxers, I slipped Mr. Johnson out of the friendly confines and relieved myself.
You fellas know that it's very natural and freeing to pee outdoors, au natural. You ladies know that, given our equipment, it's pretty darn easy. Admit it- your jealous! Maybe some of you gals can write your names in the snow but, it requires a lot of jumping around while squatting. We just wave the wand around and thank god for cursive writing and that extra beer we had.
But, ya know, it is not legal to go around peeing in public, even on your own property. If you've ever been to Mardi Gras it seems that that is half the arrests their police make during Carnival. They need to be more generous with port-a-potties. The restaurants and bars get (understandably) snippy about non-patrons using their bathrooms. They like it to be pay as you go....
Anyways, I got to thinking about the water shortage- and were looking at a world-wide one soon- and it dawned on me that we could save untold billions(?) of gallons of water if we men would pee outside more. Do the math. Three and a half gallons to flush away a few cups of coffee or a couple of Millers? Times that by 150 million guys, several times a day. That's a lot of water! So, why not?
Well, it's a lot of dicks too and therein lies the rub.
The neighbors, most likely, do not want to see Ferrerman's penis several times a day. I drink a lot of coffee, water and have a few beers at times. Even the ones that do want to view, will tire of it soon enough. More importantly, their business is not my business. It's one thing to enjoy the warmth of a dark August night, definitely another the light of a January day. This isn't France or the French Quarter where any alley can be seen as a bathroom. And that there are 300 million plus people in this country alone and many of them are children or church-going old ladies, well, clearly we have to practice a bit of decorum and not let our private activities go public.
Perhaps though, in what's left of my lifetime, the water shortage will become very real. The GOP can convince you that we can't live without oil but, I promise you, we CANNOT live without water. I don't know if they are stupid and are trying to get rid of the EPA so they can again destroy lakes and rivers to facilitate the need for water resources that their friends own but, I wouldn't be surprised. Their goal does seem to be to get out of this life with as much money as possible, as if that would impress the God that likely isn't even there....
Think about this the next time you plunk down a couple of dollars for a plastic bottle filled with water that may be the same as what comes from your own tap. Think about the 60's when gasoline was 25 cents a gallon. Go fill your tank now.
And, if the rest of the neighborhood is asleep tonight, water your rose bushes. Why not?
Thursday, January 5, 2012
To kill for
Before there were crazy people on the internet, there were crazy people in real life.
(Ferrerman note: There are probably still crazy people IRL but, the government has wisely herded them to the internet where people making sudden moves around them results in much less chaos.)
When I lived and worked down south (and was not on the internet) I worked with a lot of crazy people. One of the things crazy people love to do, is kill people. I was quite bemused by this because I never actually saw any of these crazy people kill anyone though they spoke as if they did this all the time. I was, for the most part, considered sane because I had never killed anyone. Well, I had never talked about having killed anyone so, watch it. I'm just saying.
I say I was "bemused" because it would regularly bemuse me what people- mostly men- would kill for. It didn't take much for some. As a for instance, I may have one day lamented getting caught and chewed out by the boss for taking a long lunch. More often than not, there would be a crazy person within earshot who, upon hearing that, proclaim: "I'd kill a man who talked to me like that!"
Oh, really? Well, could you kill him for me, I asked in a bluff calling manner?
"No. He didn't talk to ME like that! No man talks to ME like that! I'd kill a man talk to me like that!"
Oh. So, how many men have you killed then, I asked in a bluffier tone, designed to promote a quizzical look on dude's face. Anything thing you'd like to share?
"I'd killa man that talked to me like that!"
Yeah, I got that part....
Of course, these guys had likely never killed anyone and weren't going to kill me no matter how much I went on to fuck with them about this. They just seemed to have a compulsion towards bravado that is not limited by any means to the southern states but is as common as cornbread. About as palatable too.
Ya see, everyone gets talked to like that and it's really kinda rare that folks kill for this. Yes, people do go postal and on some streets and certainly some prison cell blocks, having words will result in violence up-to and including death but, think about how many times you have argued with anyone and how many have resulted in your death or the death of your co-arguer. I'm gonna guess none. Most people just aren't wired to kill at the drop of a hat in polite society. This makes Jesus happy. It's also a pretty good deal for most of us as we go about our daily lives, especially rude cab drivers or sales clerks. It works out pretty.good for the vast majority of us in real life.
If you think about it, the internet and certainly Topix, is a perfect place for crazy people to be. In the real world, with the way I talk to Sam (to name just one idiot) he HAS to kill me. He'd have to kill any man that talk'd to him like that! But, he wouldn't. Why not? Because I'd beat the fuck out him. He knows it. That's why it's better for him that he, from the comfort, safety and privacy of his mother's basement, spends his days and nights obsessing over Ferrerman and anyone vaguely associated with Ferrerman, like Barack Obama, whom Ferrerman supports and various women with spankable bottoms that are Ferrer-friendly.
If not for Topix, Sammy might be waving a gun around everywhere in public that people might upset him or even actually shooting folks causing possible headlines like this:
SUSPECT IN SLAYING OF 6 AT WALMART BLAMES "FERRERMAN" FOR PATHETIC LIFE AND SOCIALIST/FASCISM OF PRESIDENT
Instead of that horror, we instead get stupid polls trying to convince largely imaginary people on the internet Ferrerman is really everyone of Sam's *personas* on Topix and, thus, he and Barack Obama must be stopped.
We should all appreciate less crazy people on the streets where they are so much harder to scroll over or snicker about.
(Ferrerman note: There are probably still crazy people IRL but, the government has wisely herded them to the internet where people making sudden moves around them results in much less chaos.)
When I lived and worked down south (and was not on the internet) I worked with a lot of crazy people. One of the things crazy people love to do, is kill people. I was quite bemused by this because I never actually saw any of these crazy people kill anyone though they spoke as if they did this all the time. I was, for the most part, considered sane because I had never killed anyone. Well, I had never talked about having killed anyone so, watch it. I'm just saying.
I say I was "bemused" because it would regularly bemuse me what people- mostly men- would kill for. It didn't take much for some. As a for instance, I may have one day lamented getting caught and chewed out by the boss for taking a long lunch. More often than not, there would be a crazy person within earshot who, upon hearing that, proclaim: "I'd kill a man who talked to me like that!"
Oh, really? Well, could you kill him for me, I asked in a bluff calling manner?
"No. He didn't talk to ME like that! No man talks to ME like that! I'd kill a man talk to me like that!"
Oh. So, how many men have you killed then, I asked in a bluffier tone, designed to promote a quizzical look on dude's face. Anything thing you'd like to share?
"I'd killa man that talked to me like that!"
Yeah, I got that part....
Of course, these guys had likely never killed anyone and weren't going to kill me no matter how much I went on to fuck with them about this. They just seemed to have a compulsion towards bravado that is not limited by any means to the southern states but is as common as cornbread. About as palatable too.
Ya see, everyone gets talked to like that and it's really kinda rare that folks kill for this. Yes, people do go postal and on some streets and certainly some prison cell blocks, having words will result in violence up-to and including death but, think about how many times you have argued with anyone and how many have resulted in your death or the death of your co-arguer. I'm gonna guess none. Most people just aren't wired to kill at the drop of a hat in polite society. This makes Jesus happy. It's also a pretty good deal for most of us as we go about our daily lives, especially rude cab drivers or sales clerks. It works out pretty.good for the vast majority of us in real life.
If you think about it, the internet and certainly Topix, is a perfect place for crazy people to be. In the real world, with the way I talk to Sam (to name just one idiot) he HAS to kill me. He'd have to kill any man that talk'd to him like that! But, he wouldn't. Why not? Because I'd beat the fuck out him. He knows it. That's why it's better for him that he, from the comfort, safety and privacy of his mother's basement, spends his days and nights obsessing over Ferrerman and anyone vaguely associated with Ferrerman, like Barack Obama, whom Ferrerman supports and various women with spankable bottoms that are Ferrer-friendly.
If not for Topix, Sammy might be waving a gun around everywhere in public that people might upset him or even actually shooting folks causing possible headlines like this:
SUSPECT IN SLAYING OF 6 AT WALMART BLAMES "FERRERMAN" FOR PATHETIC LIFE AND SOCIALIST/FASCISM OF PRESIDENT
Instead of that horror, we instead get stupid polls trying to convince largely imaginary people on the internet Ferrerman is really everyone of Sam's *personas* on Topix and, thus, he and Barack Obama must be stopped.
We should all appreciate less crazy people on the streets where they are so much harder to scroll over or snicker about.
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