Thursday, October 18, 2007


Yes, I think I've been poisoned, by the noxious exhaust of my neighbor's crippled car. It's what is known in some quarters as a "rice rocket," a cheap car modified to look racy and make lots of power. Unfortunately, the owner was clueless enough to believe the claims made for all the hop-up parts he added, and never stopped to think that a cheap hecho en Mexico motor might not be strong enough for the abuse he has subjected it to.

Anyway, this morning I realized that my clothing (now in the laundry basket) smells of boiled antifreeze and unburned gasoline. I like cars, yeah, but I'm not really interested in smelling like one. Especially one that, on its best day, couldn't possibly pass a smog test.

I may have to bundle up my duds and send 'em to Al Gore. No, he couldn't squeeze into 'em these days. But he could sniff them.

My jazz-man neighbor had people over to his pad last night. Seems some local group hired him to play piano for a show in honor of Jimmuh Carter that's happening in a few weeks. They plan to serenade him with songs from Camelot, though some clever soul has rewritten the lyric so instead of bawling "Camelot! Camelot!" they are singing "Habitat! Habitat!"

I don't care if Senile Peanut Boy has been known to pound a nail into the frame of a low-income house when photographers are there to record the event: This is downright hokey. And to hear these clowns rehearsing (each in his/her own key) at 11:00 last night did not warm my soul.

Besides, all I can think of when I hear the word "Habitat" is not humanity, but those yellow-tinted transparent plastic tubes and boxes that snap together to house hamsters, mice and gerbils.

This could easily lead me into another rant about the government, "insurance for all," "housing for all" and all that happy horsecrap. But I will refrain, except to note that I, who cannot afford a house and pay my own doctor/pharmacy bills, am damn sick and tired of paying for those even worse off than I to own homes and get free medical treatments.

Never mind that. Work calls, and though I'm trying to ignore the call, it's getting louder....


Kelly said...

oh did you hear about the 1.5 billion dollars we are going to give to Mexico to fight the "drug war" oh and we are NOT going to oversee the distribution of funds because it might offend them ....

the end is near I can just feel it

we might as well give 11 year olds birth control pills without their parents permission...

oh yeah we are doing that too

lowandslow said...

Just show up at the county hospital and sign in as Senor Scribbler. I'm sure they'll get you right in...and give you a housing voucher and probably Green Stamps, too.

John said...

I wish you could have recorded it or somehow had video of the outside of the place with the splendid sound track. Maybe with someone doing a Billy on the side of the building.
Well, it would be funny if it wasn't next door spilling through the walls.

That's life in the fast lane I guess, Carter tributes, and who knows what