Boat of Bubble Wrap

Monotony to calamity to pain.

Sandals in the snow.100_0654

Boots in the tropical terrain.

Chasity belts for the weak.

Thongs around the strong.

Island sanctuaries for all who fear every wrong.

I have been to the land of sanctified goods.

Born witness as the, wicked rest in the sun.

Drinking the Kool-Aid from a golden cup.

And, inhaling from the mighty vine.

High on the prospect of retrieving the grand prize.

Paddling back in a boat of bubble wrap…

I had forgotten to enjoy the ride.


Paint me in a river of my tears
Whisper hope and truth – courage in my ears
Remind me when I reach the other side
I’ll b thankful for every tear that I cried

Bonnie Raitt


Gnawing on It

I will try to make this as smooth a transition, as possible.  Course, I say that, but when traveling with two, four-legged, friends, the opposite is typically the case.  The getting into the car, packing up the dogs, bringing treats, a leash, etc.  If by chance a leash or two, is forgotten?  A belt is always worn that can double as a ‘in case of emergency’ tether.

Pretty much, where I go, the dogs go.  Unless extreme weather gives the finger to keeping dogs in too hot a car.  Or, meteorologists imply that the current not habitable cold temperatures would not be good for chasing the great outdoors.

Other than the above mentioned, bad form temperature intensities, my friends are with me always!

When we evolve from Home Sweet, Home to New Hampshire’s vast rural nation?  It can be quite an undertaking.  As many writers do, I have an imagination that could be deemed a lethal weapon.  And, of a restless nature, my need to get up an go, can be almost as frightening.

Hour upon weary hour with Bogie and Mattie; I have developed their character analysis.  But with a twist.  Who were these lovely creatures in a former life?

Mattie, the hound mix, is no less than an eloquent expression of canine grace.  Having been abused before I met her. She has developed an edge.  Pretty simple stuff…She does not like; unspayed female dogs, over bearing male dogs, loud noises, quick movements, her little brother (Bogie) on occasion.

She is a Georgia Peach on steroids mixed with the aloofness of a Wallflower and lightly salted with all the athleticism of her great ancestors.  She is serious as shit!  No comedy!  No jokes!  Just cut to the chase and show her some love.

Bogie, a Beabull!  Is an anomaly!  Part beagle, he insists that he can hold his own out in the great north woods.  Part bulldog, he cannot hold his own.  And, is what many would call, delusional, in thinking he was ‘all that and a bag of chips!’

I refer, on exceptionally long trips, to Mattie as, Big Pat!

sword 1

Along the same lines of road monotony…Bogie is referred to as, Little Dot!

Big Pat and Little Dot were/are members of a backwoods bowling team.  They are the only ones on the team.  No one else feels comfortable playing with them.

Big Pat, in my fantastical mind, wears a polyester shit with an emblem.  The emblem displays bowling pins falling here and there.  Underneath the neon thread?  Her name: Big Pat.

Big Pat does not have a last name!  She listens to such music as; Black Sabbath, Joan Jett and when feeling soft inside…Led Zepplin.

Big Pat does not really like Little Dot.  She does for the first five minutes they are in the lanes.  After that, with the chaos and comedy, Big Pat pops a Pabst Blue Ribbon.  She is often spoken to about bringing open containers into ‘Your Balls in the Way Bowl-a-rama.’  Usually, the owners back off after Big Pat admonishes a switch blade.  And/or, worse case scenario, Big Pat will threaten to expose her left breast.

Unbelievable, but true, Big Pat is tough as nails and a beauty!

Little Dot had done the comedy circuit at Salisbury Beach.  She even branched out to Revere Beach.  And, Chinatown in Boston.  Her career never took off after the ‘incident.’

Little Dot had been spotted by Boston PD…peeing two miles from a playground.  The arrest would certainly have done her stand-up career…in.  She took a plea agreement.  So, now besides, bowling with Big Pat.  Little Dot volunteers at the Home for Wayward Aspiring Comics.


She currently is in charge of the Bingo games on Wednesday afternoons.  Happy with the gig.  Little Dot has had the pleasure of meeting such greats as; David Spade, Pee Wee Herman and Jackie Gleason’s son.

Little Dot is in actuality, rather round.  Most of her stand-up routine consists of physical jokes.  Walking and falling.  Talking and chewing gum.  And, on rare moments, hurling her Humpty Dumpty frame…into the crowd.

Little Dot had been raised in an orphanage north of Boston.  Unfortunately, they stacked the beds from floor to ceiling.  Last or…first, one on the totem-pole?  Little Dot got the bottom bunk and received a life debilitating injury.  Having been stuck beneath many other larger than life…tots!  The circulation to both her brain and limbs became severed!  Little Dot, though, as adorable as a ferret, is slow on the uptake.  And, stopped growing after the age of one!

Little Dot doesn’t mind that Big Pat seems confused about her sexuality.  After all, Little Dot experimented down at the local shelter…back in her youth.

Big Pat, appreciates Little Dot, for her open mind.  Just the mere fact that Little Dot, will make-out one week and have an out an out brawl…the next?  Makes Big Pat want to keep Little Dot around.

Little Dot and Big Pat have been ‘friends’ for a lifetime or so.  Often, after a heated big ball game, the two will sit in the back of Pat’s remodeled school bus.  Discussing such things as;

Why squat to pee?

Why does hand size matter?

How to kill a person with one bite to the jugular

Where Little Dot could find one of those cute little ‘dog collars’ made of leather with spikes on it?



I love Little Dot and Big Pat.  Never one to think too much about someone’s past.  Or, someone’s future…I’m uncertain about the idea of dying and coming back in another form.  That the gods decided to make all of us…cats, dogs, humans, etc., live life over and over again, until we get it right.

I am certain that Mattie and Bogie; the not so comic but funny as shit, duo, were professional bowlers in a past life!

Valley of the Dopes

Segmented segments from enriched with egotistical gene soil readers:

Today, we will see how anything can be answered with a lyric!

Dear RandomwordbyRuth:

Problems with the bath?

being in the tub. Here’s an idea It’s a fact that more and more stressful and fast paced,
the need for water hot tubs and high blood pressure massage.
Modern Spa is a good solution. Another type
of sanitizer is called” It’s always best to follow the hot tubs and high blood pressure instruction on the sanitizer you are using.

Wet from the Inside Out-


Well, Bonita, Spanish for I lay me down with a taco and wake up smelling like sawdust!

you caught me in the squeeze play on the cheesy side of town
Throw me a dime, throw me a line
‘Cause there’s a fat man in the bathtub with the blues

Read more: Little Feat – Fat Man In The Bathtub Lyrics | MetroLyrics

honey do list
honey do list


Honestly. Don’t people realize that 4% of the income from the top 1% of wage earner’s income is a lot of money? That money is used to employee many people. Think of it. The rich are just like the middle class. They buy stuff. So, if Joe Millionaire wants to put a 500k addition on his mansion, which would employ a small army of workers, and now he doesn’t have that 500k cause Uncle Sam took it, don’t you think that army of workers will be affected? Exactly. Joe Millionaire may not put on the addition this year. People don’t get this. They say take from the rich and give to the poor. Yeah… now all those workers who were going to build the addition are collecting checks from the government because they didn’t get a contract for the job. What a joke. Anyway,

Yours in Faith

John McCain

Your lovin’ give me such a thrill,
But your lovin’ don’t pay my bills;

Money don’t get everything it’s true,
What it don’t get I can’t use;

Read more: Barrett Strong – Money (that’s What I Want) Lyrics | MetroLyrics

Yo, Bitch, What’s Happening?

Hey this is a great post. Could you keep me updated with any other info similar to this? If travelling to the UK why not stay at Stafford hotel and watch a Shakespeare play!

Brussels to you and yours

Mac Beth

Sitting in an English garden waiting for the sun
If the sun don’t come
You get a tan from standing in the English rain
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen
I am the walrus

Distant Cousin

WTF has happened to Facebook?  Everywhere I go I am de-friended.   Is that a word yet?  I know that, fuckin’ ridiculous is a word?  Or, at least, two words!  And, I think all this liking stuff has made us all looking fuckin’ ridiculous in the eyes of our dog.

Down and Out in Biloxi


Well, when I’m hurtin I have a dangerous tongue
I lose it and use it like a gun
Oh wont you stop me if you see me takin aim!

Valley of Pain/Bonnie Raitt

Readers/Fans/Relatives from the Bad side of Town

Most certainly a good bath cleanses the soul from the stench of living on thin dimes and a dream.  And, therefore, you never hear the ‘rich’ complain about having too much money.  Ever thought of that?  That is because it is most likely soiled and in need of a weeks washing down at the Sit n Spin on this.

England had once had the pleasure of my company but I met up with a woman named Lucinda at the Avon.  We had a night on the Strafford with plenty of hard cider and frivolous English play.  After that I hung up any hopes of dating buck tooth women with a shine for potty mouth with an accent and breast that sway from side to side.

‘Til next time…don’t leave your light on…they’re looking for us all!


A Robin Hood Smile

fear_ancient (Photo credit: postbear)

There are a lot of different ways to cope with anxiety.
One way is to exaggerate your biggest fear. This might not seem like good therapy,
but it really is. Start by making a descriptive account of your fear, using a
lot of emotion. Do this three, or four times, and by
the last time, you will notice that your fear has been minimized.


Why do we push the envelope? Jump the bridge to river abyss full knowing it is too deep for the dog paddle…and that happens to be the only stroke you know!
Ask for something that isn’t ours? Believe in our wants…not our needs!
I suppose it comes down to feeling that feeling of falling.
Personally, I know there are persons out there who despise me. Dislike what I stand for. Believe what I write to be a wordy carnage to the soul.
You know…it really doesn’t matter…for those are the one’s in which we aim our evil arrows.
There are Robin Hoods and there are Whitey Bulger’s with fake tiara’s and knock off smiles from a cosmetic dentist.

‘Tis better to have lived a life of enriched acknowledgement of the sins of all…than to work day and night and night and day pretending we have an all access channel to ‘glass houses!’

Accomplish your fears everyday…

Fear Yourself
Fear Yourself (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Sometimes I miss that feeling of falling
Falling on over the ledge
You know I miss that feeling of falling
Falling on over the ledge
And when my mind it gets to worryin’
And I just can’t get no rest
Oh Baby, that’s when I call you up instead

It’s after midnight baby, I’m sittin’ here all alone
I tried to call your number baby,
But you weren’t at home
I been a good girl baby, through with all that mess
But the way I’m feelin’ now, darlin’
Well it scares me half to death

Well I miss that feelin’, of fallin’
On over the ledge

That summer night in Texas, baby
Too hot and wet to sleep
I heard you pull up in the distance
You’re comin’ to get me relief
We went screamin’ down the highway, baby
So much faster than we should
You pulled me over in the moonlight
Man, I still can feel that hood

Well I miss that feeling of fallin’,
On over the ledge
When that rain starts baby, I want to take a real
Good look at that ledge

It ain’t something you get over
You might think you made it through
You can turn your head and walk away
But it never takes it’s eyes off you

It’ll push your foot right through the floorboard

Ghost fear
Ghost fear (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

Make you cut them streamers down his back
You waste what’s precious and you can’t afford
It runs your life right off the track

Keeps you boilin’ in that poison
Only the truly twisted know so well
You don’t need drugs to show you heaven, baby
’cause there’s plenty clean in hell

That miss that feelin’ of fallin’
Of fallin’ on over the ledge

When the blues start callin’ I want to crawl way up close to the ledge

Load Up the Gun Rack

There is nothing more Zen like or better place to find yourself back from left of center…in the middle where you belong. Then mowing a 40 acre lot on a New Hampshire once in a life time day…senses sharp, rhythm in sync with the universe of nature’s goodness and a Marlboro Red with a Arizona Lite Half n Half Iced Tea.

Load up the shotgun, put it in the gunrack
Load up the shotgun, put it in the gunrack

For those Kodak moments music should always be applied. The two best Top Ten Ruth‘s Billboard Tractor Pulling Stuck in the Mud songs go to Bonnie Raitt:

Papa Come Quick
Papa come quick, Jody’s gone to the city
What we gonna do now that Jody’s gone
She left a note on the TV and Papa it’s a pity
What we gonna do now that Jody’s gone.

Mama’s been cryin in the kitchen since mornin
She cried right through As The World Turns
I seen it myself and Papa it’s a bitch’n
Let’s haul ass before the baby gets burned.

Gas up the old Ford, get out the road map
They got a head start about half a day
Load up the shotgun, put it in the gunrack
Jody’s with Chico down in East LA.

It must’ve been that wild-eyed, silver-tongued schemer
A girl like Jody don’t think for herself.
Him and that Harley and his damn Jalapena
Smokin that stuff’ll make you hurt yourself.

Smokin that stuff'll make you hurt yourself.
Smokin that stuff’ll make you hurt yourself.

Papa come quick
Papa come quick
Papa come quick
Papa come on.

Gas up the old Ford, get out the road map
They got a head start about a half a day
Stop at the Mobil, pump up the flat wheel
Jody & Chico and his ding dang deal.

No Business

Yes, I’m lonely-hope you don’t catch it
Don’t want to be down where I last behaved
I broke his heart now I can’t patch it
This time it’s grave.

I kept track of all the love that I gave him
And on paper, well, it looked pretty good
He left a note that said he couldn’t stay here
As if I could…

You say you're itching baby, so go ahead and scratch it  But if its jumps off, don't look at me
You say you’re itching baby, so go ahead and scratch it
But if its jumps off, don’t look at me

I guess my love’s got no business, no business calling his name
I guess my love’s got no business, no business to blame.

One of these days I thought we’d get it together
After all that boy was made for me
But all he left me was a mouth full of feathers
Little bird got free.

He always said my love was one sided
I tried to keep up with supply and demand
But there was one way that pie was divided
It was a big piece plan.

Well, now I’m getting desperate, baby getting illegal
I got the law doggies on my trail
The hawk’s out and I could use and eagle
To go my bail.

One of these days I thought I'd get it together
One of these days I thought I’d get it together

You say you’re itching baby, so go ahead and scratch it
But if its jumps off, don’t look at me
You swore to God that I couldn’t catch it
But your dog’s got fleas.