Shelby's man Dan came by this morning with Zinny, the Wiener dog. As we headed downtown to a popular breakfast spot, Dan told me that Zinny lived up to her breed while he's had her. Apparently every time she jumped in his lap, she hit his dick.
As we sat outside and ate, with Zinny on a lease, we were surrounded by beautiful Pensacola women, walking their dogs. Fortunately, Zinny had Dan under Wiener control.
Just kidding Shelbs, Dan's a great guy and your old Pops approves. I'm looking forward to visiting his gun store and I'll be taking apart the front end of my truck with him soon, to get access to the possible problem.
It's been nice to have Zinny back, but now she's just hanging out on Shelby's work chair, waiting for her to come back tonight.
After my downfall in Tennessee, we lived down in Tampa for a while, and I've met many of her friends there. It is now in the cross hairs of a new major hurricane and I suggested to her that we act as a refuge for them, if needed.
I haven't heard back from her yet...
This Post is for Shelby, who always worries about my diet when she travels. So here it is, so far.
I had Shredded Wheat with raspberries for breakfast at 0430, threw out the old carton of eggs and fried up three from the new one for brunch, followed by a big strawberry topped with Dark Chocolate Hummus for lunch. Chocolate Peanut Butter ice cream also slipped into the mix, a couple of times.
I miss Zinny, but since I don't have her I thought about some local travel before the hurricane hits, but I've cancelled my Debit Card. You can't be adventurous without a Card.
Zinny is home Sunday or Monday and my new Card arrives in a week or so. I can be cool here as long as the hummus and ice cream lasts.
If you had asked me eight years ago, at the age of seventy, where I would be now, I certainly couldn't have perceived this.
Hanging out with leftover physical remnants of former lives, inside my grand-daughters garage, with nothing left but memories.
I quit drinking on my 70th birthday and lasted for a year. My life with Steph at the time in a beautiful log home at the base of the Grand Tetons in Idaho was good, until we moved to Tennessee.
I quit smoking on my 50th birthday and have lasted a lifetime. I shook my son Riley's hand and agreed to stop if he never started. We achieved that agreement.
On my 30th birthday I had a threeway with my Japanese wife Marci and a pretty young girl from Iowa, in a motel somewhere in the midwest.
On my 10th birthday, I have no idea where my family and I were living, somewhere on the West Coast. But I was coming alive and looking forward to my twenty year cycles.
It's really tough being an old drunk, I don't recommend it to anyone, and I'm glad my shotgun is in the back of my blown engine truck in Dan's garage.
Shelby texted me yesterday evening, from somewhere in the U.S. and asked how my day was going. I told her it was about a five, and she said Better than a 0.
That's true, because at zero, you're dead.
I woke up this morning at five, and it's been falling rapidly due to yesterday. I've been looking forward to sobriety while being responsible for Zinny this month while Shelby travels.
A couple trips to the bar prior to her departure were enough for me to loose that privilege. I don't blame her at all, but now I have little reason for anything.
So yesterday I hooked my bright orange flowered shirt to my belt and walked my semi-naked self a good ways up to Richey's East, and bought a jug of Seagrams. The hell with the bar, I'll just drink at home.
I put the bottle into a yellow plastic bag I had in my back pocket, and proceed to get lost going home. I walked way more than I should have, but made it back.
Nurse Jen burst into the Cave later and was happy I was staying away from the Z. I had my own cocktail going on, with my own booze. I can take care of myself, don't need no seedy fucking bar.
This morning as I took my wallet out of my shorts, I saw that my new debit card was missing. The only place I used it yesterday was Richey's so I called the manager Ben and he checked the video footage and watched me slip the card back into a slit in my wallet and put it back into my front pocket. Yep, that was me, orange shirt and all.
I had no idea where the card was so I froze and canceled it, new one in a couple of weeks. This blog's host is going to direct bill me $180 shortly to keep it going another year, and who the hell knows what's going to happen now!
I found a great website today with a bunch of free tools, called TinyWow.
I used the Image background fade to recreate this shot of my favorite grandkids:
Then I rounded it with the Image round tool:
I went to an art show last night off 9th Ave with Shelby, her new man Dan and his young daughter Anna. Our friend Homer had sixteen pieces to sell and I think he did well.
They were all headed afterwards to the wine bar downtown but since I hadn't drank for a couple days, I chose not to, and walked home. I cruise this neighborhood every day and I knew exactly where I was, and how to get back.
I really wanted to buy a meal somewhere to give to the homeless woman I saw hunkering down under the freeway on ramp before we left to the show, but it was late, and I found none. Sorry hon.
Riley called me and offered to put his resources towards fixing my truck, which I declined. He has two beautiful baby daughters to care for, way more important than my ride. Thank you anyway son.
I like Dan, my dead truck is in his garage, he owns gun stores with virtual reality shit, but I told her I don't need a babysitter while she's gone. I lived six years alone on a dead end street in Tennessee, I could handle a month sober watching Zinny.
Well, so much for that. I had a couple drinks at the bar today because I'm depressed as hell, but I've now lost the privelege of watching Zinny while Shelby travels this month, because I'm an old drunk. Zin is staying with Dan...
Hmmm, that was my motivation to stay sober. Now I don't know what the fuck I'm going to do.
I think I'm looking good, slimmed way down and working on my abbs. I'm insanely tanned from walking everyday, just in shorts, around this Pensacola neighborhood.
But, I'm perceived as just an old drunk. I've met and become friends with many of Shelby's girl friends, a couple of which I wouldn't have minded sitting on me and having the best time they've had in a while, but those days are gone.
I've gone from a single man living in a small house in Tennessee, that did whatever he wanted to, and fucked around with anyone that got his dick hard, to here.
I would love to shut this place down securely and go traveling in my old truck, but I can't, because she's dead. I was talking to a big ol boy named Blood at the Z today, a Harley man with many bikes, and he recommended a guy to fix my truck.
So here it is, from a napkin I wrote on from the bar that I'm not supposed to be at: Mike, at Express Lube, 1650 E Mile Rd, here in Pensacola I presume.
Blood called him from the bar, told him it was a 1988 Mazda B2200, and he seemed to know what to do.
If anyone can hook me up with this guy, thanks...
Dan checked all of the possible and fixable item's on my old truck engine and said it goes deeper. I'm grateful for the diagnostic work he's performed in his garage, but she needs a major overhaul from a mechanic and I can't afford another dime on her.
So, I don't know what's going to happen next, but I just put an order in to cancel the insurance in a couple weeks. This also means I have to go down and do something with the registration I worked so hard to obtain, because she can't go uninsured.
At least I have a roof over my head, until the next hurricane hits, and I have power, internet and water. As I watch what's happening to our neighbors up North, with no real help from our government, I am grateful, pissed off, and wish I had a drink.
Meanwhile Israel is fighting to destroy global terrorism and our incredible military is sitting on their hands unable to help because Joe is sleeping on the fucking beach and Kamala is out campaigning in California.
Now the dock workers strike! Our pathetic government could have evoked the Taft-Hartley Act and kept those Teamsters on the job, past the election. But they have not and our economy is going to be hurting real bad, shortly.
I suppose this is good for me since Shelby will be gone most of this month, and I won't be able to afford much at the grocery store, which means I have fewer bags to carry back to the house.
Well, I fell off the wagon for a couple days. I'm not proud of it, but blowing the engine in my truck, and losing my mobility and a road trip I've been planning on for months, knocked me off it.
I am now back on that wagon, and I'm not counting days or weeks anymore. I'm just looking straight forward with a fuck the world attitude, working out and walking.
I had a fun time and some good grub at Hub Stacy's on the Point last evening up near Dan's place. It looked run down and barely open when we pulled up, but when we walked in, Dan, his daughter Anna, Shelby and I were lucky to get a table.
The band was just starting up and my only complaint about the joint was that they were playing too loud. It was a fun time and here's a little video.
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