Gertie

In 2003 or 2004 I bought this bitchin' 1975 BMW sports coupe. Pristine condition, silver hardtop that purred like a million Raquel Welches lining up to suck my dick. Got it for a song and $3000. I didn't care that the gas mileage might be bad (turned out it was okay). I didn't care that the only serious repair shop charged up the ass (got one of their super sportsters for the two days I had to leave it overnight and probably did more damage to that than I did to mine).
I had a touring 1975 BMW that was gorgeous (turned the heads of two high school girls once until they actually saw me) and smooth, sleek, sexy and stately.
I mean I rocked in this beast. It weighed almost 2000 pounds. Solid steel. Get in an accident with me and your SUV would pay for it. If it made contact and didn't just roll right over. But you know what I mean.
I've had other cool cars. I had an old Fiat Spider that was the shit. Run over a puddle and the sparks would give out, causing me to pull over and wait for them to dry so I could start the car again. The convertible roof leaked, but who cared? It was a Fiat and I had short hair.
I had a 1969 VW bus that looked like it had been rolled through a breadmaker and painted by the Mary Kay Commandos. It only leaked oil through the oil pan when I was driving uphill. And it only didn't start when it was an absolute emergency.
After all of these cool cars I remember the VW best, because of its driveability. And I remember the Fiat best for its because it got me sex. Lots and lots of sex.
But the BMW...I remember it best, because it's the car that made an old woman feel like a princess.
For 20 minutes. For one ride. From her house to the church. She rode in the back and saw life anew and marvelled in how much a simple ride in a pretty car could make her feel young again. She saw houses she hadn't seen before. She noticed trees and flowering bushes she hadn't before.
She giggled and pointed and preened. She felt like a princess and I have no doubt saw the throngs lined up on the side of the road to wave to her, because this was her ride and her moment and her time.
As much as she caused me no end of consternation, frustration and heartache in the years both before and after I will always remember that day, that ride and that beautiful woman remembering and living a moment she may never have had until then.
Others will, no doubt, have more memories and closer ones. I will have only that one. And it will carry her (in my heart) into Heaven or what she and I consider Heaven to be. Because I will miss that cantankerous old witch. May she smell lavender all the way there. And may her son live through this and know the relief that eventually will come.

I planted asparagus this year for the first time. I've done some online reading about fertilization and soil requirements, but what I haven't found is what to do with the this year's shoots. Do I clip them down to keep them from flowering or let them do their thing? I've got a few that are turning ferny.
Does anyone have any advice or suggestions?

Man, I Love These

Hello, It is my pleasure to reach you after our unsuccessful attempt on our business transaction. Well I just want to use this medium to thank you very much for your earlier assistance to help me in receiving the funds without any positive outcome. I am obliged to inform you that I have succeeded in receiving the funds with the help of a new partner from Paraguay Mr Fernando Alvaro Gomez, Everything was perfectly done because we strike a deal with one of the Lady Accountant who works with the Federal Ministry of Finance (F.M.F) and she rendered a tremendous help to us .My new partner initiated this idea and everything worked out successfully . In appreciation of your earlier assistance to me in receiving the funds I have decided to compensate you with the sum of $850,000,00. Eight Hundred and Fifty Thousand United States Dollars issued in ATM MASTERCARD. . This is from my own share. I did this simply to show appreciation to you for your kind support.Presently I am in Paraguay for i! nvestment project with my own shar I am happy to inform you that I registered the ATM MASTERCARD inform of Diplomatic Security Parcel with FedEx Delivery Services to deliver it to you. Since I did not hear from you, I traveled out of the country for investment and I will not come back till end of this year.kindly contact fedex with the information below. Contact FedEx with your shipment code of: Shipment Code: CPEL/OWN/9856 Parcel Number: EG2272-NG Delivery Officer: Mr. Andrew Bolton E-mail: wwwfedex_courier@live.com Tel: +234 - 8055245117 Please reply FedEx with your address and shipment code for re-confirmation. Please,let me know immediately you receive it so that we can share the joy together after all the suffering at that time. At this moment, I am very busy here in Asuncion the capital city of Paraguay because of the investment projects which the new partner and I are having at hand. Once again, Insurance and delivery charges have been paid for, but the only fee remaining is the security safe keeping fee of $150 USD, which you will be required to pay before delivery will take effect. Also note that FedEx Services do not know the content of the parcel, I registered it as a Diplomatic Security Package, they do not know it contains ATM MASTERCARD inside. The ATM MASTERCARD has pin number 8876. Regards, Rev Vincent Fisher

So, tonight my wife and I went to this thing put on by Shalom Ministries that my mom had talked to us about and gotten us to volunteer for.
We finally said we'd go and see what it was that Mom was going on about and pitch in if needed.
What we encountered and came to love almost immediately was a supper for homeless and in need people.
Every Monday evening Shalom serves up a cafeteria style dinner for those who are in need. The needy don't have to be homeless. In fact, anyone can come down for what is really a very good meal. But Shalom does cater to those in serious need. It has a lot of regulars who are definate characters.
Mom, Dad, Katie and I got there late, because the snow had reduced streets during commute hour to a crawl, but I quickly found a spot on the serving line and got to hand out beets to whoever might want them (fewer than you'd think). Katie handled the coffee. Mom and Dad did the greetings at the door and made sure everyone had a seat and helped them carry food to their tables.
We met many colorful people. We met many wonderful people. We had a hard time not crying for some of the people.
As I stood and listened to a young man play the piano after he was done eating, another man walked up and stood beside me. A minute later, he got in front of me and asked me if I was scared. I said, not yet.
Insane people don't scare you? Not so much.
He looked at my shirt ( my George Bush "I bet you vote this time hippie") and said
you can't wear that here.
Why not?
They'll kill you.
Who will?
They will.
Who?
Anyone here. Everyone. You can't wear that. It's wrong. It sucks.
Why?
George Bush. he's why the poor people are still poor.
You're not reading the shirt right. It makes fun of Bush.
Oh? It still sucks.
Yeah, well, I'm going to wear it anyway.
Yeah? Til it wears out?
Sure. Til it wears out or I find another one.
It still sucks.
Good thing it's a free country then. Cuz I'm going to keep wearing it.
(pause, then shuffling in front of me as I try to walk away and blocking my progress for 30 seconds) Yeah, good thing it's a free country so I can walk wherever I want to.

He and I ended up hugging and laughing when we realized we liked each other's sense of humor. On the way out, he walked my mom across the intersection through the slushy snow and he and I hugged and laughed again after. Katie, also, told me that he was the one we saw driving in who was holding up traffic by walking down the middle of the one lane open on the street as if he was leading the parade.
One story I was told by a woman on the serving line right after we had filled the plate of a drunk Native American:
Oh, that's the guy who, a couple of months ago, got through the food line, then turned around and yelled "all you white people need to get back on the boat and go back to wherever you came from!". She didn't know whether to laugh or not at the time, but she said she couldn't help it. So, she laughed. I thought it proper, because most of us Whities don't know where we came from.

We'll be going back with my parents every Monday that we can. It felt good and right. The kid who played the piano after eating was wonderful. he just sat down and started playing. Couldn't have been 18 years of age. Probably didn't want to leave. Old folks who were politically active and passing out leaflets.

Hell of a time. And the volunteers were cool, too. No boundaries, no commonalities. Just friendly.
Just happy.

Just wanting to help.

HI!!!

Hi. I'm unemployed, but eager. I left my last employer, because I wanted to move and help take care of my parents who are feeble and demented (not to mention they have halitosis and constantly soil their undegarments). I am happy to take care of them and wipe their buttocks when they whoosh. In fact, my motto is: You whoosh, I floosh.
However, being a wonderful son and selfless giver does not pay well in the coin of the realm (so to speak since shit flows downhill and I am at the bottom). So, I am putting myself on the market to the highest bidder.
What do I bring to the market table? Only this:
I can drink 12 beers without puking;
I can write my name in the snow;
I can shovel shit;
My name is not Ishmael;
I can kill a mockingbird;
I once made red soda fly out a friend's nose without touching him;
I can read an entire book in one day;
In the home library, I like to play with my shelf;
I once hit a foul ball really, really far;
I once got a telephone salesperson to say "I am not looking for Dick" 20 times;
I once got a telephone salesperson to tell me that her company's online service would give me better access to donkey porn than the one I already had;
I eat radishes and Fritos together, because the belches make my wife run in terror;
I've sharted at least 5 times in my adult life;
I envy no penis, but I am a little bit jealous of Oscar Meyer;
I can start a week from tomorrow unless it's a workday.

You know what Fresno has that Spokane doesn't? A helicopter that circles around and around with its spotlight on for no apparent reason.
You know what else Fresno has that Spokane doesn't? Bars within walking distance.
You know what else Fresno has that Spokane doesn't? Streets and sidewalks free of snow.

You know what Spokane has that Fresno doesn't? Blue laws for liquor. And churches on every corner. And five fucking feet of snow!!!