I'm refining my Tuna Bean Slabs recipe. You start with one can of the best tuna you can get, you know, solid white albacore in water. For a personal batch, I mix the drained tuna up with mayonnaise nicely, with a little seasoning.

Then I add two boiled eggs and continue mixing until it becomes tuna/egg sandwich mix. But here's my new twist! I add about five spoonfuls of Bush's barbecue beans, draining the liquid off as I spoon and blend them into the mix.

Meanwhile, I've got these little hamburger buns that I bought at Dollar General during the Thanksgiving crash and burn. I split a couple in half and put them on the small grill, and I'm air frying them.

Just when they start to look toasty, I pull them out. Then I spread the mix on the four buns. You will still have a bowl of Tuna Bean left that can handle you another round.

Then you stick the tray back in the air fryer, but wait, you got options! You could add anything you want to these little sliders as they make their last trip in. Cheese? Crushed garlic?

Watch the edges of the bread through the window, when they brown, they're done.

I eat them on a paper towel on my cutting board right below my little air fryer, with a knife and fork.

Tuna Bean Slabs!

That Florida plate reader scam is really something. Somehow I ended up in a special toll lane while visiting my grand-daughter down in Tampa recently, and I got an invoice in the mail for using it.

The lane is called a SunPass lane and it's for the rich folk that can afford their per mile fees, which are being logged by an intricate Big Brother license plate scanning system.

My fine was $4.82 for a three mile errant lane selection, of which $2.50 was an Administrative Charge. This racket is earning Florida $.58 per mile for every vehicle using that lane.

When I went to their website to pay, there was a full sign up page where they wanted all of my banking and personal data. Screw that, just let me settle it with PayPal and move on!

So mailing them a check is the only option, but I wrote a to do list on the front of the return envelope, oh well, and then I have to take it downtown to get it stamped and mailed. Maybe tomorrow...

As to getting my Feet Done, Daniel suggested I go see a Podiatrist about my feet, which don't get much attention these days. Yea, maybe tomorrow...


There was this tall beautiful young blonde working in Kroger's this morning, about twenty. I approached her and asked if I could enjoy her body for an hour on my bed, without penetration, unless she wanted it, for $500?

She asked, can I bring a friend?

They showed up at noon and the Kroger girl was still in uniform, while her girlfriend was in tight jean shorts and a sweater. I've had some amazing three ways in my long life, but I had to use mild force to get my face in there for sloppy seconds, on both sides, and both ends! Damn, best thousand dollars an hour I've spent in a long while!

I realize that I have a dark side, I'm pretty sure everyone has. It's that place where sharing is impossible. I think there should be a dark side scale from zero to nine with the top being the crazy's of the world, and the bottom being Jesus.

I'm logging in at 2.3.

Shelby and I are scaling back our wild Christmas cruise plans. Prices are high at the moment, and she has no accrued vacation time with this new job, and it just doesn't feel right.

So we're backing away from the cruise, for a while. I told her I was even fine with going through these holiday's alone, which is usually what happens anyway. I said she should hang out with friends.

Then she told me something that set a light bulb off in my head, and explained a lot about my beautiful complex grand-daughter. She said "Christmas is meant for family. Not friends."

So, if she stayed home in Tampa, she would be alone for Christmas. She wanted to be with her sister in Dallas, but their were dog issues.

All of my 14 grand-children from my daughter Becky are scattered all over, and there's only a few that I think she keeps close contact with.

Shelby and I have formed an amazing bond. If she want's to spend holiday time with family, I'm it! I remember that great home cooked Thanksgiving dinner in her small kitchen in Pensacola, with the local artist, Homer Jolly.

She needs family, she needs to know her heritage. I would love to scoop her up and take her back to Idaho, meet her family. We had epic meals at my sisters amazing log home just across the Wyoming line at the base of the Grand Tetons.

She had a huge kitchen and a beautiful long wooden dining table. The crew would consist of my sister, her kids Brian, his beautiful blond twin sister, and their younger sister, sweet Elizabeth. Along with our partners and kids.

I actually have wonderful memories about those times, and I think my sister has the same Family gene as Shelby...

Unfortunately, my nephew Brian was just telling me that over the last five years that Steph and I left the Valley, the holidays are getting lost.

Sis sold her mansion and moved into the Valley, and it just sounds like epic meals are no more...

I just told Shelby that maybe we could pick a place halfway between our towns that has a Christmas dinner going on. Book motel rooms early and that I would meet her there. It could be a fun blog worthy adventure!

btw: If you would like to see our 2016 Christmas, click here.

Sometimes my legs give out from under me. It's a weird little tremble that quickly spreads down my legs and I'm on the edge of collapsing.

Damn it sucks to get old. Sometimes it happens when I'm driving and it's a struggle to maintain control. If I lose my mobility or ability to drive, everything will change.

But I bought myself a big breakfast today and then did a much needed shop at Kroger.

Back in the Seattle days I was famous for my tuna and egg sandwiches with split pea soup. My son Riley was raised on it.

Today I made a new sandwich, It consists of one can Bumble Bee solid white albacore tuna, in water, drained. Mayonnaise, and an equal amount of Bush's Country Style baked beans, drained.

Brown up some buns in the air fryer, put mayo and the mix on them, and it's perfect knife and fork food for me, right from my counter. They ain't pretty, but they're damned good! The Baked Bean Tuna Sandwich!

I ate two and saved two, which are going to get cheese put on them later and melted. The Baked Bean Tuna Melt!

Ok, it's a quiet Tuesday evening at 2000 in my little house. I need some real food, probably do breakfast up in the Square tomorrow at 0700, then go to Kroger for my main supplies.

Survival is tough these days. I just move from moment to moment trying to remember and enjoy the previous one. I am drunk and stoned right now. If the popo want to come over and bust down my door for the small amount of weed I have that makes my Parkinsons and my shoulder feel better, have at it guys!

I'm thinking about cruising this Christmas with grand-daughter Shelby! The possibilities from that adventure are amazing!

I don't miss my ex Steph, anymore. She has fallen into that deep hole where lost loves land...

I'm an old single lonely man. Ok, that is what it is. But I still have this fire down below that burns constantly, driving me forward, making me believe I could pull off one more epic adventure, in style!

Maybe a Shelby Christmas cruise would be the answer! Imagine me escorting this beautiful young women to dinner on my arm?

The first assumption would be that she is, well, obviously not my wife. Then the assumptions would dive into who knows where, but when our new cruise friends realize that Shelby is my grand-daughter, I guarantee you the smiles will emerge!

I had a wonderful talk with my nephew Brian in Jackson, WY this afternoon. I have family out there in Idaho/Wyoming that I love and miss. I told Brian to give each one of them a special hug from me, and a message of love, this Christmas.

Brian has realized that his ex, Andrea, is the love of his life. They have gotten back together somewhat, she and her daughter Anika (graduating from HS now, omg) are up in Missoula, MT and he's down in the Hole.

He has a great job there and can build it into a retirement platform. Or, he can follow Andrea and Anika out into the wilderness they are following, I think he said Costa Rico, not sure.

My advice to him was to follow his love. My nephew Brian Hunt is very smart, handsome, and could rebuild a new career anywhere, if everything crashed.

Go for it my friend, I love Andrea and Anika, they are who you should be with, in my humble opinion...


My beautiful and amazing grand-daughter Shelby and I have been chatting about a Christmas cruise this year. It would obviously be different than two years ago when we floated through the Carribean with her Navy Commander boyfriend.

I could tuck her arm into mine and as our new friends along the way discover our relationship, blow their minds with a smile.

Shelby is a travel agent, and I'm sure she can set us up with an arangement that works. Damn, thinking about sharing great meals and adventures now!

You keep me alive girl!

Here it comes again! A couple of years ago I was on a cruise boat for Christmas and now I honestly can't remember what I did last year. Let me look it up... Hmmm, nothing, hung around the house and wrote a poem.

Maybe I should put up a little tree here in the house this year. Run some lights to it, the flashing kind, I like those, and put some pretty ornaments on it.

Get into the spirit! Buy some fake little present boxes and place them around the base. Put a thingie up on the tip and sprinkle that glittery string all over.

Hang a stocking nearby! Hey, you never know what's going to show up in it on Christmas morning. God spoke to me once and empowered my life, and I still hear Piper's soft meows from the other side. So anything is possible.

I could always drive to Tampa and squeeze into grand-daughter Shelby's plans, but I'm thinking of just hunkering down. My old legs are getting wobbly...


My life reminds me of this plate of Indian buffet food from Chai Pani down in Decatur, GA recently.

I designed the plate. Just wanted to slap some highly acclaimed food on it and try it out! It was quite the failure.

Your plate is your current state in life. Everything on there is stuff you put there, it is the image of your life that's presented to the world.

Every one of our plates is amazing and complex. The flavors merge together as we eat our way through to the end! Sometimes it looks and tastes wonderful, and sometimes it's a mess.

Thinking about drugs that I have tried in my life. I did heroin once, meth a couple of times, lots of acid, I love peyote buttons, had a cocaine phase, I grew a small crop of bud once, opium, and I'm sure there are many others that have not made this list.

But I never got addicted to any of it, never became a druggie. I stopped with everything when I moved to Seattle decades ago, to help raise my son. I was down to booze, and smoke, and quit cigarettes a few years in.

I'm experimental, I push boundaries both in this blog and in my life! To do otherwise is a waste of the moment, moments that I over share right here!

OMG's crash into my text feed as I write and post. I have boundaries, and when I wake up the next morning I have to decide wether I have exceeded them. If so, the excessive post will fade off to the big trash bin in the cloud, and the archive of my bizarre life will continue on.

But I'm discovering that my boundaries are stretching out, sometimes I write stuff that probably shouldn't stick around, and I just smile and say Fuck It!

What the hell is happening to me? I can't stop writing, then looking back on the Posts and cracking myself up! Maybe I've entertained some folks out there, along the way, or not.

I'm drunk now, surviving on the last bit of vodka Daniel left me after his Bloody Mary binge yesterday. My friend is coming over and I think getting our smoke on is underway.

Oh wait, I'm back, and stoned. My, what an interesting day! Our talk has been amazing, and now I'm writing, while he's deep into his phone.

My friend is really out there, in a comfortable way. He has this deep down home country voice, that rattles off great wisdom in rapid fire.

I have not recorded him during one of his amazing rants, or his interactions with spam callers, out of respect. But, they are truly mind blowing!

The man is looking for work, and I think he is promotable! He could be a TikTok media star!

And sometimes I have an ability to transform reality, into words...

I guess I'm on a roll with these Posts that keep erupting from my fingertips. I layed down on my bed for a while and kept wondering if Shelby was sharing any of them with her co-workers. The image of her grand-father laying dead on a cold concrete prison floor with a giant dick up his ass, could linger in their minds for the entire afternoon.

I have been fucked in the ass. You know, when you live this long, stuff happens along the way, and I really don't like it. That little hole is not meant to be a sexual organ, it has one purpose in life, and getting plowed ain't it!

Speaking of my ass, one day back in my days as a paratransit supervisor in South Seattle, I had an appointment for doctors to do a colon cancer check. I was living with our receptionist Steph at the time, and I don't recall if our relationship was out or not.

I took the day off, for an afternoon appointment, and started drinking to prepare for a scope up my butt. I ended up passing out, missed the procedure and pissed a bunch of medical people off.

That was a couple of decades ago, so I guess it didn't fucking matter in the long run. I could have stuff going on in my body, or not. Life is what it is, and I will last as long as I'm destined to.

I have decided that I ain't going to be one of those people who worry about medical issues. I figure I've lived past my prime, and every day is just sugar on the top!

Ok, I'm in legal trouble now, and if I don't resolve this within the next few days, I could be locked up for a long time!

It all stems from that recent road trip down to Tampa to see Shelby. Apparently I broke the law and didn't realize it. My vehicle was captured by a license plate scanner and proved that I was at the scene and committed the crime.

I am now frantically looking for an attorney to help me. I don't want to be imprisoned! I've been watching prison videos on NetFlix, and I would be old meat to those guys.

Hmmm, at least I would have a free roof over my head and a couple squares a day, but I don't think my ass could take the pounding. I would die on the cold dirty concrete floor with a giant dick inside me, a hell of a way to go, not what I planned!

So, I better resolve this now if I want to stay alive! The FDOT (Florida Department of Transportation) has accused me of driving in some sort of fucking lane that I shouldn't have been in without a special permit to do so.

As I was trying to navigate the crazy busy freeways of Florida I must of happened into a toll lane and now they want me to pay up!

I have to login to their website with my debit card, write a check, or pay $4.82 cash, to stay out of prison.

Maybe I should just drive down there, find their fucking office, and pay them with four hundred and eighty two pennies!

Sounds like a good excuse to see Shelby in Tampa!

I learned a couple of things yesterday. After barging into their house yesterday with a mask and a head thing, and almost getting shot before Daniel recognized me, I spoke with his wife Jennifer.

It was a quiet moment, but something happened. I have operated under the assumption that she didn't like me, always bugging Daniel to have her come over and play poker, and always getting denied. This house could use some female energy so bad.

But then last night he said Jennifer would come over sometime and play a card game called UNO. I have no idea what that is but that doesn't matter, the fact that she would be willing to socialize with me, is a big deal!

The other thing I learned was a word, called "tea bagged". As I was hanging out with my two male friends, it came up, they were laughing, and I had no idea why.

Apparently it refers to an act that one or more males do to another brother that is laying flat on his back unconscious from too much socializing.

It's nut sack to face. Who the hell came up with this? Is it a Southern thing or is it world wide, and how in my 77 years haven't I heard of it, much less participated in it!

It makes me wonder what happened after I passed out in my chair last night!

It has been an absolutely fascinating and enlightening Sunday end to this thing called Thanksgiving!

I started out driving my truck North this morning and I saw employees getting Hinie's BBQ ready for breakfast and the build your own Bloody Mary's thing. Never made it there, damn!

I turned around at a little park just South of Columbia, TN. My truck was so happy after 69 miles I thought she was going to come! But I'm not sure what that would be like.

Then my friend called and asked if I'd like to burn one and I said sure! The rest of the day was a blur. I think the Titans won but I don't remember.

Now it's Monday, and all of that holiday stuff is done. I woke up this morning with a nagging feeling that I committed to something yesterday, but if I did, it drowned in alcohol last night.

I drove off into the cold looking for a hot meal and found Pat's Cafe open, thank god. I had me a big ol breakfast, two rounds of coffee, and multiple glasses of water, and here I am, still alive!

As I inspect the house, I realize that somebody drank a lot of my booze and all of my V8 juice. I guess Mary was on her period yesterday...


My truck has been reborn, it's gone from dead to amazing! I drove her North on Hwy 43 up to Columbia and back, through multiple speed zones and topped out at 75 when the popo wasn't watching.

As I drove I thought about all the good things I've done to her recently.

• Major brake job.

• New tires, first rotation.

• New cap and rotor.

• New spark plugs.

• Rebuilt the carburetor.

• Flushed the transmission.

• Flushed the rear end.

• New distributer.

• Oil change tomorrow.

If you're going to drive a thirty five year old truck, you have to maintain it.

Losing her over Thanksgiving made me realize how much I need her. We have a relationship together! If I had put as much care and attention into a woman, I wouldn't be a sad lonely old man, now.

Ok, I don't know where my world is right now. I take my drinks into my mouth and they linger there, for sometimes long moments, before I choose to consume them.

I have no teeth anymore, and the experience is amazing. The drinks swirl around in my mouth and I have to tell myself to swallow. And when I do, they explode into an orgasm of energy as they blast down into my throat!

It's like a sexual experience, and since I am an old man who doesn't get any more of that anymore, I value the fuck out of it!

I drank last night and put myself to bed with 400mg of Celebrex and slept like a baby, God did I need that! I woke up at 0715 and Daniel knocked on the door shortly after. Soon, we were drinking Bloody Marys.

I offered to buy him breakfast this morning if he got me to the bank and then on to pick up my truck.

We called all around and the only place open was up in the Park. So, we took off into the world on a fucking Saturday morning at 0800, with a couple Marys in our gut.

I grabbed some cash to pay Thomas from the ATM, and then we drove to the Park. They had a buffet going and we got a table overlooking Lake Lindsey, and hit the breakfast buffet, with Mimosa's on the side.

Then we hooked up with Thomas and my truck is purring like a kitten, thanks man.

Now we're sitting around my house with cocktails going on and I'm not safe to drive my sweet little recovered truck! Maybe tomorrow!

The carb was still running high, and Daniel came over and brought it down.

Just now, he tapped on my shoulder as I was hearing her purr, for almost an hour, and suggested I shut everything down, and I did.

This old truck is ready to ride! Where to?

I'm sitting here in my little place tonight trying to knock myself down to a place where I can sleep. Last Thanksgiving night there were no cocktails in the house, I was hungry, and the Celebrex wasn't working. Every twenty minutes I was rolling over to avoid the inflamed arthritis on my right side, and waking up.

Tonight I have remedied those issues. I've also had great chats with my two most important people, my boy Riley in Seattle and my grand-daughter Shelby in Tampa.

I have lived a long time, and I can't even remember when chatting came into my computer consultant life. I know it occurred on PC based platforms in the eighties and on into the nineties, and I was right there to employ it. I think there was a rudimentary form of messaging between users on IBM systems in the seventies, but I can't remember anymore.

But the platform we have now, that all of you take for granted, is stunning to me, and I am so glad I have lived this long to experience it.

Talking via words on a screen in a naturally flowing format has been around for quite a while now, but the seamless integration between our cellular devices and our laptops and computers, is just kinda blowing my old mind now.

And the ability to throw every piece of data we have into the flow, is a testament to brilliant coders, and I salute you!

So, this old coder says good night, turning "Do Not Disturb" mode on, and really hoping I can get a good nights sleep!

My mechanic Thomas came through for me today, big time. I suspect he read my blog and realized this old man was dead in the water without his truck, and he took time out of his family day after Thanksgiving to fix it. You have earned my loyalty sir.

Turns out it was my distributer, so he drove to the parts store, got it, installed it, and finished up the tuning on my rebuilt carb.

That's the thing about maintaining a sweet old truck, stuff wears out! I need my truck, it's like an extension of me, and I can't afford an alternative vehicle.

So if your looking for a great mechanic, I highly recommend Thomas! His shop is the old Bobby Darnell place, just past First St off Hwy 43 in Lawrenceburg, TN, heading North, on the left.

I just talked to my auto body genius son in Seattle, and he said the distributer makes sense. I bought the truck off him many years ago, and I have continued to maintain and improve her, and maybe I'll get another 250K out of her, or more.

Thomas's rates are also very reasonable! My boy was saying that having the same job done by the ripoff mechanics in his area would be much more.

Thanks again, my friend!

Awe the irony of having your truck break down on the day before Thanksgiving, when you needed to hit the grocery store for a major shop. My mechanic thinks it's the firing rod underneath the cap and rotor, so he ordered the part and now he's shut down for the Holidays.

Thomas is not opening back up until Monday but he said he would try to slip into his shop tomorrow morning for a quick fix, and I'm grateful for him even considering that. He gets how fucked I am.

Daniel would certainly take me up to Krogers but he's been real sick, and I need everything, and I wouldn't subject him to that. The Senior Center here has a Ride Share program to get us old people around, $25 yearly membership and $4 a ride, but everyone is on Holiday time now, and there's no answer there.

Did I mention I hate this time of year? The last two days have been tough! I've been scraping around the house for anything to eat and had a three year old oatmeal pack for breakfast this morning. Maybe the restaurant in the Square will be open tomorrow, but probably not.

I barely slept last night as the upped Celebrex dose is not able to handle my shoulder pain. Ok, this is more than enough pissin and moanin...

So, Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas and have a wonderful New Years Eve! Let's get this fucking year done!

Update: Daniel just got us up to the Dollar Store where we both power-walked the place and grapped enough supplies to carry us each through the weekend, Yeah!

I just had a long talk with my friend Beryl in Hawaii. She's alone today, with family and friends scattered all over. When we ended the call she was going to make herself a peanut butter sandwich.

I scrambled my last two eggs and mixed in some baked beans, and that could be it for the day. No food in the house, and no truck to get any. Sometimes you just have to laugh at life, and make it to Friday.

Beryl and I had a lot of catching up to do. She's been in Hawaii for a long time now, her grand-daughter grew up there, and she has traveled all over the world with a lady friend that lives in Florida, near Tampa.

Usually they meet in New York City and go from there, but I proposed that on their next trip, meet up in Florida, and I can see her and Shelby in one drive down there.

We talked about my girlfriend Dawn when we all hung out together in Carmel Valley. She mentioned Dawn's younger sister and I drew a blank, until I started writing this. I just texted her "I remember Dawn's sister now, we had a three way, and resolved her virginity issue!". Dawn was great, I was the last man in her life as she went on to become a cloistered nun in a monastery.

I've said it before, but I really hate this time of year now. I just try to survive it, and make it through to the next year.

And then, out of the blue, I got a text from my nephew Brian. It read "Happy Thanksgiving Uncle Jim! from me and Andrea, Zion National Park. No/bad cellular. Call you when back in WY on Sunday".

They got back together! I love Andrea, she was my friend, and I am very fucking happy! If you scroll through the photoset I put up below, you'll see them in the last shot, along with Anika, who has to be a beautiful teenager by now.

Wow, I can't wait for this update, and pictures!

I'm sitting here at almost midnight ahead of Thanksgiving Day. I'm an old man, older then most of you, and I have many wonderful memory's of gatherings with family and friends! I am alone now, with no idea of what I'm doing tomorrow.

But I remember! Sitting around a big table with food everywhere, surrounded by people I love! Damn...

We make choices in our lives that impact everything down the road. I'm sorry we left Idaho, it was my move, and in the process, I lost the love of my life.

But, I still have a smile on my face, because to have other, is defeat, and fuck that!

OMFG. I'm laughing at my situation in life as opposed to pissing and moaning about it! This is good, I'm getting myself back!

I'm sitting here in a little run down house with no food, no vehicle to go buy some, and absolutely no plans for Thanksgiving.

I need to do my dishes, maybe tomorrow. My friend Daniel is hunkered down in his house depressed as hell, and I can't get him over here for a card game.

He was Plan B, my ride to somewhere tomorrow, for supplies or maybe a meal, but he's toast.

I understand and relate, I love my friend and I'm sorry he has reached that point that I was at just days ago.

So now what, as I sit here laughing. I suppose I can just walk up the hill, buy a bottle and some ice, and watch the Thanksgiving parade on my big TV.

Sounds like a plan!

So I gave my mainframe to Hudson, and he factory reset it, which means everything is gone. But, I was particularly cognizant over the years to keep my photos backed up onto external hard drives. And that's all I really care about, fuck the code, photos are what matters.

I just plugged one into my laptop and discovered a hoard of wonderful shots. So instead of being a "grumpy old bitch" as Daniel likes to call me, here's a small sampling of what I found. Please enjoy!

This is a guy I met up in Illinois at a rest stop after buying some legal weed. He was traveling in a sweet custom van with his dog, good looking and rich.

Here was Riley visiting us in Teton Valley, from Washington. Not a great shot, but...

These southern folk know how to do a catfish fry, but top this!


Riley and I in Seattle.

Our family room in Idaho.

The old back patio.

The inside of my little ParaTransit bus that I drove for a decade in Teton Valley, ID.

The outside.

Anika, my nephew Brians girlfriend, and my friend Andrea's, daughter.

Here's Steph with Eric Olsen who played Marty Deeks on NCIS, Los Angles.

Family, Brian Steph and Andrea.

I guess that's enough for a lonely old night before Thanksgiving, I hope you enjoyed!

I'm trying to be done writing pathetic posts, and I just deleted the most stupid ones. I was saying fuck the world, take my stuff and I was going to just get in my truck and drive off into the sunset.

Then Shelby told me she want's me to take her child to the beach someday, but that child doesn't exist yet.

Then I went outside this morning and my truck wouldn't start, had it towed to my mechanic and he won't be able to get to it until Friday.

Then Daniel and I just watched "Secondhand Lions" on Prime here in my little house on my big TV. The message was, live as long as you can, and die with your fucking boots on the ground!

So, I apologize to anyone that has followed this blog. Depression is real shit, but I need to get my act together and live as long as I can, for the very few people that still love me, and for the even fewer people left who would not like to see me pass away.

The only stuff that I gave away in this madness, was my main computer in the back room. It went to Hudson, my young game playing friend who wanted it. I never use it anymore to write code, and it's a good gaming box. He did a factory reset on it, and I'm cool.

I guess my truck not starting was a message from above. I woke up in the middle of the night and took down the stupid "take everything" stuff, and even killed this blog for a while.

Happy Thanksgiving!

When I woke up around 0500 and swung me legs onto the floor, I was glad to be alive, that's good.

I've got a heart like a truck, that's been drug through the mud. I realize now that my heart has been broken by a woman that I loved for twenty years, that just left my life, with no closure, and just moved away to somewhere, and I don't know where that is.

I think that's it, I have no closure, no answers, no reasons how I arrived here in Southern Tennessee, and why I have ended up a sad lonely old man in a place I can barely keep up.

God, if you are there, help me, because I am lost...


I just realized that I truly don't give a shit anymore. When you're on the edge of life, shit don't matter.

Sitting in my fucking little house nearing midnight, typing words, watching amazing video's on youtube, and realizing that music can affect your life profoundly!

You rescued me from reaching for the bottle for a while, I stay stoned all the time on your love, then I fooled around and fell out of love, goodby Steph...

Turn off the heater, lock the fucking front door, and go to bed, goodnight...


Just thought I'd post a followup to Sunday, like anyone really gives a flying, but hey, it's my platform and I'll say what I want.

I woke up this morning and realized all I had to eat in the house was eggs and beans, so I whipped myself up a scrambled egg bean thing. Daniel came over at 0800 with a drink in his cup, and I said what the fuck, and joined him.

He's been talking about our new local bbq place called Hinies, and their Sunday brunch with a build your own Bloody Mary bar. You get a big shot of vodka to mix with an amazing array of goodies that you could make a meal out of.

I'm going there next Sunday, if god gives me another week, but I wasn't up to leaving the house today and told him to go enjoy it with his wife, which he did.

Daniel and Jennifer have a complicated relationship. They live in sperate houses, love each other, but share different priorities sometimes. Like today, he wanted to walk next door and watch football with OldManJim after their brunch, and he did. Jen is certainly welcome in my little house but she don't like football, and finds me to be a questionable human being, so she went home.

So Daniel and I drank whisky and mixed drinks, yelling at the Titans on my big screen to get their act together, and played poker. We cooked up half a rack of those ribs on my stove, and he just went home to sleep.

So now I'm left to reflect on my life. I've been doing a lot of that lately, and I haven't figured a damn thing out yet. I had chest pains this morning and wondered if this was it.

I asked Daniel if I dropped dead in my chair, what was his game plan. He said no "mouth to mouth", but he would call 911, Riley, and Shelby, from my phone. God I would hate to disrupt my two favorite people in the world's lives at his moment, so I better stay alive!

I can't say the same about the Tennessee Titans...


Drinking Smirnoff, sipping Devils Cut, heating up ribs that Daniel got this morning from the owner of our local bbq joint, and watching the Titans getting their ass kicked, once again. Sounds like Sunday to me.

Sometimes life sucks. Sometimes you let it out and just scream at it.

That just happened to me.

At least I didn't break anything this time, but what the fuck would it matter anyway.

I just screamed at the world at the top of my lungs from my little house on a dead end street at the bottom of the state called fucking Tennessee.

And nobody heard me...


Alright, it's 1100 in Tennessee, the chips from last nights poker game have been put away, and Daniel and I have continued sipping on that big bottle of Devil's Cut that was purchased last night from the store up the street.

My new friend Tony also picked up a bottle of Proper Twelve last night, an affordable smooth Irish Whisky, sponsored by Conan O'Brien, but the whiskey was Great.

Daniels wife is still asleep next door. We have had nothing for breakfast but whiskey, and Fox News is on my big screen. My lovely neighbor is asleep in the chair next to me, I guess it's just a sleepy Saturday...

Oh wait, he's now up and standing in my front door, enjoying my yard.

Daniel introduced me to his friend last night, and he kicked our ass in poker. His name is Tony and Daniel has known him since childhood.

The Lawrence County School System with 14 schools scattered across a big county went down a maintenance guy when one retired, and Tony has all the skills required, and is hopefully their new hire.

He's also a hell of a nice guy, married with kids, and judging from my table this morning, a great poker player. His seat was the one with the double stack of reds ($20) and everything neatly stacked. Daniel had some impressive stacks of whites ($1) and some Devils Cut left in his glass. My chips were scattered all over and my cup was empty.

Actually, in my own twisted mind, I came in first. Considering that I started drinking and smoking around 0900 it's a miracle I was able to play at all!

So, I'm sitting in my chair, front door wide open, and a white SUV backs up in front. I thought it must be a DoorDash for my neighbor Drew, but after a while it honked at me. The passenger side window rolled down and I heard Daniel say "You coming or not?"

I then remembered that we were heading to the Store, for some Devil's Cut sipping whisky. It's funny and strange that I can't recognize my friends vehicle, and who the hell knows what happens after we finish that bottle, new scars?

We have come to playing Poker in the evening. He's helping some friends out right now, but this is his Friday, with next week off. Spells nothing but trouble to me.

So, here's to "new scars!" The plane that Sully landed in the Hudson survived, I figure we will to...


My friend what's his name, hell, the guy formally known as "Dick", and that's not in a formal name format, dropped by this morning, arguing in real time with the "Bitch" over his speaker phone, as he walked through my door.

Twice she wanted to hear my voice, to confirm that her man was not fucking some whore. The "Bitch" was threatening to destroy his prized collection of miniature cars, and wow, I love these two, especially when he turned to me and said "You want to get stoned?"

So here my day started in the depths of despair, and then my friend dropped by, and changed everything. He even spoke of that despair and then gave me that quizzical concerned look that implied "Are You suicidal?"

I told him "Fuck No!" I'm going to ride this train called Life until it runs out of tracks and nose dives into the sand. I may question my situation right now, but I value every second of it's existence!

Do you ever have those rare moments when you encounter a face that is expressing pure joy in seeing you! I just experienced that with our lovely mail lady. As I walked to the curb she handed me an envelope from the truck, and her face burst into this amazing, real, down home southern woman.

Daniel and I banter about our hot mail lady with tats on her legs, but I saw her true self today, and it was something. I'm not talking about anything physical here, just the pure joy of interacting with an old man she's delivered mail to for over five years.

We had that fun little interaction last week where I used her face to see if my phone security was off. This was our first encounter since, and I'm sure she told her friends about the old guy that used her face.

I experience these moments more here in Tennessee, then there.

I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I'm really confused about who I am and what my values are. There's a world outside my door but I'm running out of reasons to step through it. Driving to the liquor store doesn't count. Getting a royal flush with two cards that don't belong in a real deck, for fake money, doesn't count either. My shoulder continues to hurt despite stronger Celebrex. Sometimes I just want to give up. Every day I put clothes on, because that's what you're supposed to do, but it's almost 0900 and I haven't yet. It's six days until Thanksgiving, and I have a problem just getting dressed and stepping outside, looks like I'm not going anywhere...

Daniel and I did Devil's Cut shots and played poker tonight. At one point he thought he had a kick ass hand and started talking real bucks. The poor son of a bitch had two pair, and, being shot drivin, thought he could kick my ass.

We were up to eighty bucks, when we called each other. I told him there was no way he could beat me, but he just kept coming on. Thinking his two pair was going to beat whatever lame ass bluffing hand I had.

We play with two jokers, and I had both of them, along with three top shelf hearts, that added up to the best hand in poker, a Royal Flush.

We didn't exchange cash, but I whipped his ass good!

Correction: Since we were playing with two wildcards (Jokers), five of a kind of anything would beat a natural Royal Flush, but since I had both wildcards, mute.

Daniel and I had a great chat last night with my longtime friend Beryl and her daughter JudyAnn in Hawaii. It was evening for us and noon for them, and Beryl was off to work.

What a fun time! We exchanged photos and I have to say, Beryl with a few years on me, and her daughter in the background, look amazing!

And she's still working, at a jewelry store! And she has a home on the big island! I am so happy for them. Talk about landing well...

Meanwhile, Daniel and I did shots, again. He brought over a bottle called Jim Beam Devil's Cut. It's still sitting on my table here, at 0500, along with his main drink cup. It's dark out but I should walk over there in my robe and make sure he's not unconscious on the ground. Ok, I just did, and he's not.

I still have an invite to Hawaii, thank you Beryl. We've had a great history and if I could get my act together, I would love to go visit you.

I told my doctor Christine that I went eleven days in a row last month without drinking. I also told her I canceled the liver ultrasound she had scheduled last month, so she drew some more blood today.

Gee, after those Crown Royal shots last night, I'll bet that's a pretty result!

The reality is, something is going to kill me eventually. So, if the ultrasound showed my liver hanging by a thread, what are they going to do? Cut my back open and give me a new one?

I actually don't think my liver is going to take me out. I've been drinking for almost sixty years and my sweet little liver has learned how to adapt.

My biggest concern is the arthritis in my right shoulder/arm. People that make their living using particular body parts suffer from this disorder. I used that arm to write great code over decades, others suffer from knee issues, like my auto body son, and everyone else that works is at risk of the same.

So I talked drugs with my doctor. I told her that Celebrex works, just make it stronger, and she bumped it up to 200. It maxes out at 400 and I will probably reach that some day.

I stopped by Walgreen's after a trip to the Park and they said it wasn't ready, come back in a couple hours. Then I came home and started writing this, and a text arrived saying it was ready, wtf.

So, if you've read this far, picture this. I'm sitting in my little house, door open on a cold day because I have my warm stuff on, writing this while getting drunker, and I need my new meds bad, but I can't drive anymore.

Hah! I'm actually laughing at the situation. Maybe Daniel will take me up to the drive thru after work, or I'll down a bunch of Ibuprofin and get through the night.

Just another day being OldManJim...


Daniel and I did Crown Royal shots last night. It was my idea to do the shots, he dropped by after work and drug my ass out into the world and I bought the shit.

He did warn me that it would knock my dick into my watch pocket, and I didn't think it would stretch that far, but I think it did.

When I woke up this morning the bottle was gone and poker cards were scattered around two empty shot glasses. I'm glad I don't do this too often.

Then I went to the clinic and had my Celebrex prescription upped to 200 (it tops out at 400), and they drew more blood to check my liver. I'm sure it's fine.

It's a cold morning here, it's nice to get back to my little house, turn on the heater, and hunker down. Wish I had some smoke, but I don't. Think I'll put the heating pad on my shoulder and watch a movie...


I drew a blue straw twice today, the first one bit the dust when the drink sitting on my center console tipped over as I accelerated across the highway on the way to the Park.

When I got back home, I drew another blue. So, I have determined that blue indicates a good case of The Blues, which is my current state today. Having the Blues doesn't carry the same weight as it did back in my early days. Now it's called Clinical Depression.

I've had many cases of this condition pop up over my lifetime, for many different reasons. It might have been caused by a woman, losing a job, or just your place in life in general. You get into a fuck everything mode and you stumble through the day, if you manage to get out of bed at all.

Hey, I did good today, considering I've got The Blues. I made it to the Park, spilled my drink, realized I had forgotten my wallet and cash, along with the bag of Qwack Cocaine I was going to try and feed my ducks with. But, I sat up there and managed to get my Gmail down to nothing...

Small victories count...


My neighbor Daniel came by after work this afternoon, as he usually does, storming through my open door shouting for me to wake up, old man. I appreciate him dropping by, to get me up from my wasted chair, turn on some Fox News and play a little cards.

The deck sits by my mouse pad and everything is shoved aside, worthless tools of a dying blog, and we quietly play poker while Fox rages on. We just mentally keep track of the most wins, but it means nothing.

He kicked my butt, despite who dealt. After an hour he went home, worn out from his day.

All I have left in me is words on this screen. I really try to make them count, to have some meaning, but my best friend has not even read them during his day, and has no idea the despair I feel.

I've bailed on Thanksgiving with grand-daughter Shelby. Whatever part of Florida she lands in for the day, me and my old truck are not capable of keeping up. I just want to say here, I love her so much, and sometimes holidays need more than love, they need a big dose of reality.

My 1988 Mazda B2200 Extended Cab with a Weber Carb and a header, is having issues.

She was purring like a kitten this Summer, until one day I couldn't keep her running and turned around from the Square and drove her home, barely making it. I had her towed to my mechanic up the road and he rebuilt the carb. He also noticed that the rotor cap was loose, so he tightened it.

When I got her home she was still running rough, but driveable, so I put a top quality Napa cap and rotor on, which helped. My mechanic has adjusted the carb twice now, to no avail.

Ok, here's what I think happened. With the rotor cap loose, the engine wasn't timing right, and I didn't help anything by forcing her home. Everything on top is fine, including the carb, but I think I damaged my valves.

Valves are defined as: Mechanical components used in internal combustion engines to allow or restrict the flow of fluid or gas to and from the combustion chambers or cylinders during engine operation.

A valve job is defined as: A ton of money to get her done, well over a grand.

My poor baby...

Here's another B2200 with a Weber carb and a header. Notice the shiny head, the valves are under there.

Hmmm, I have a shiny bald head, maybe my brain valves are damaged, that would explain everything. I need a valve job!

I love my new Google Pixel 8 Pro. It's funny, you would think that a man who has been involved with creating new technology for many decades, would figure out his cell phone sooner, but that has not been the case.

I started out with this beautiful thing having to scan my face, along with my right index finger from multiple angles, and then enter a four digit pin number.

So, to get to my phone I had to press a specific spot on the screen with my right index finger, and then enter a four digit pin if the camera didn't recognize my face.

What a piece of crap this is! So, if my phone was lost or stolen, this high level of security is going to keep me safe! I suppose some cracker could do you harm before you could shut everything down, but that's not likely.

I don't have any Scan To Pay apps installed and I just don't use it for financial stuff. My phone has become something I always perceived, but I never thought I would meet. I love it for what it is and I am so glad I lived this long to have it.

Anyway, I have disabled all security on my phone. No more fingerprint checking, no more four digit codes. I have several levels of computers, from my mainframe coding monster in the back room, to my tablets and phone, which all reach my laptop, the bond that ties everything together...

The bottom line is, I now pick up my phone that went into dark home mode, thirty seconds after I last set her down, and then she sees my face and wakes up!

Hmmm, like I said, glad to be alive...

Update: I think it will work on any face, which means I have zero security. I'll test it out the next time I see a human face. If it's limited to just my face, that would be amazing. This also means her front facing camera is on all the time...

I walked out with my phone in the screen lock position and asked our lovely mail lady to help me. I held it up to her face, with sunglasses on, and it unlocked. I pushed the button to force it to the lock screen, and tried again, yep opened right up.

So I have absolutly no security, but it sure is neat to open this thing up just by looking at it.

I have nothing to eat here at my little house. I should have gone to Kroger and bought supplies but I headed South to Florence, AL instead. When I got back home I had no interest in anything but a cocktail or two, and a puff off the dwindling crumbs from a small plastic bag.

Daniel and I have been playing Poker with no stakes at my table, watching football on the big screen, with the volume turned off. He just came back from a drive up North to his Sleep Study place and managed to take his wife with him.

She was going to bail this morning so he and I could go, but I wasn't here, so she went. It sounds like they had a great time and I'm happy for them.

Daniel's wife Jennifer, puts up with me. We are not friends, even though I've tried. He's told me it's not me, ok. I've suggested getting her over here for a round of Poker to fill a third chair, but Daniel insists that ain't going to happen. Whatever...

I turned on my TV tonight and spotted Yellowstone being pumped into American society, in Prime Time, through the CBS commercial network. I just saw a hot sex scene there, that made me think what I would have thought at thirteen. God I can't imagine growing up in this current world!

When in doubt, shout, when in pain, don't complain. I've been running around Alabama this morning and I realized my shoulder felt ok today. I never mention the good days so y'all may think I'm in constant pain, and that's not the case.

I can usually find the right combination of meds and mellowers to settle that bad boy down to the point I can forget it's there. There's just some things that can trigger an episode, like when I rubbed Daniel's back a few nights ago.

Yea, it was kinda weird, my neighbor Daniel and I don't have a touchy feely friendship. But he was sitting in his chair wincing in back pain saying "It needs to be pushed up out of my back". I said "What can I do" and then he took off shirt, layed on the floor, and shouted "Push it up!"

So I grabbed my foam pushup pad and walked over to him, all spread out, my shotgun a foot from his head. I placed the pad up against his side, put my knees on it, then put my hands together at the base of his spine.

Now, I rarely feel Daniels back at all, unless he's helping me up after falling, and sometimes he never helps me up, I have to do it myself, but I digress.

So to be in this situation with my bare hands on my friends bare back, was surreal. I shouted "Get the fuck out of Daniel's back!" and proceeded to put the full weight of my upper body onto my hands, pushed down hard on his back, then moved them slowly up his spine, all the way to his neck, Yelling "Out, Out, Out..."

From below me, my tough, gun toting friend was moaning like a baby. I can't swear that he was also shouting "Oh Yes!, Oh Yes!", but it kinda sticks in my craw. Anyway, I thought this was going to be a one-off thing, mission accomplished, pain pushed from the back!

Oh no, as I was getting up from the pad, he shouted "Do it again!"

Now wait a minute. I just performed the most magnificent back pain exorcism in the history of humanity, and now you want me to be your masseuse?

I made a couple more passes up his back, because it helped him, without the gusto. I then felt my shoulder hurting and realized I had hurt myself, to help a friend with his pain. That's what friends do.

Ahh, a nice little Saturday afternoon Veterans Day at the end of a dead end street in the Deep South.

The front door is wide open, my neighbor Daniel is refreshing his drink next door, and all I can think about is my unfulfilled self. How do you fulfill something that's so deep, and honestly unknown, to yourself?

Daniel is back and now we're watching Tennessee v Missouri. He and his fucking college football fetish keeps me under control for a little while. He's gone now.

Hey, this Red Straw day is getting on! Riley just texted me some old pics of me and hey, I looked pretty hot back then, and he was so young!

It's almost 1800 here on Lee St. There is no Saturday night poker game going on, with this beautiful new chip set. I guess I've gone too far on this friendship thing that was growing on me...

Now it's 2130, and as I look around my little neighborhood, I see peace. It looks like my neighbor Drew is getting laid, that's really good, he's a good dad and desersves some fun time. Daniel has gone to bed, I think... He may resurface.

My life is near nothing. Friday just means there's new Bosch episodes on NetFlix. I hate Saturday, everyone is running around doing all of their down home important country shit.

Sunday is football, sometimes, I've yet to see the Titans new young QB play. I don't go to Church.

And then I start the week, an entity of five that I embrace as one. A place where memory and time are melted down into daily blog posts.

If I didn't write I wouldn't remember my life as it stands, I can go back in time to any day in my decades of blogging, and relive it.

Most every day of my life for the last eleven or more years is at my fingertips in this amazing database called the Internet.

Here's to Saturday, Nov 11, 2023!

I try hard to be an environmentally friendly human, but I'm far from perfect. Once a year I take all the Krogers plastic bags that I've stashed, back for recycling. I was using the large water dispenser system, dumping the empties back into their bin at Kroger, but they became unreliable.

Drinking the tap water here is not an option for me, so I buy Deer Park spring water in jugs. Some I keep in my fridge for drinking, others out for cooking. And I feel bad when they end up my trash can!

I also use plastic straws for my drink, because the paper ones don't hold up. I buy these bags of multi-colored flex straws, and the color I pull out each late morning is a sign of how my day goes, and ends.

Blues and Greens usually indicate that I'm getting out to the Park that day. Yellows and Purples suggest a three to four Posts day.

Red means my chips are all in to the Poker game of Life. The hands are showing and the winner is obvious, and I get to choose the one I want. I've drawn Red the last two days, and I didn't win the pot yesterday.

So, I put plastic water bottles, tall white garbage bags, and straws, into the landfill. Their might be a plastic recycler around, but my place is small, where am I going to keep a growing collection of empty water bottles. I'm not.

I wish the city would provide a special container that we kept up against the house until it's full of plastic, then haul it out to the curb on recycling day. Since we don't, I lay the plastic induction into the land fill they manage, on them.

It was a tough morning, with pain sabers diving through my shoulder, and I was heading to the Store, when my friend Limited drove up.

He had an Acer Chrome book in basic Set Me Up mode, so I did my thing on it and turned it into a new vibrant laptop for the guy, with links to the Quality Assurance job he's going for here in Lawrence County, TN.

It's a new fresh tool that he can use to bypass the clutter of the 500 apps running on his seven phones all at the same time...

I need to change my group name from Pussy to Liberator.

Chris stays with Limited

Daniel stays with Asshole

And Tami stays Bitch, by default, because she said "Fuck both you guys" when I told her, on Limited's phone, that of course we're not alone, we got five hot bitches here. Then she hung up on me before I could say, just kidding...

It's been a fun uplifting Friday, and I'm now the Liberator!

Lim hung out here through the afternoon, raging wild rants against the big phone companies, over his phone that was near death, into the ears of a women that represented them, from the Philippines.

It took the poor girl almost twenty minutes to realize she was being hit on by a crazy American from the deep South. I was writing this Post while hearing this go down, and I figured it out. She gets paid by the minute while she's on the phone with a client, but she's not opposed to talking to a Southern Gentleman off the clock, and I suggested this to Limited.

Finally, at one magical moment, Lim asked her to call him back and she paused from her persistant company rant, and said Yes.

As the night went quiet, the outside world became dark, and Limited's cell phone rang, the ultimate question was finally answered. I am the fucking Liberator!

For an old guy with tons of world experience, I now find myself out of touch with the good things in life, like Lainey Wilson, and the Twin Peaks restaurant chain.

I rode with Daniel up to Brentwood, TN this morning to pick up a sleep study kit, and we had lunch and drinks at the tittie bar called Twin Peaks, down the road in Cool Springs.

It was more of a cleavage joint with a little ass cheek, but the drinks and food were good, and the vibes fine. I chatted up the guy to my left and he turned out to be a local chiropractor. I shared a couple stories with him and then the food arrived.

We noted the absence of women here, just mostly young to middle aged men, trying to be sexy. Two women replaced the chiropractor, and we determined that they were gay by the way the hot blond in cutoff shorts threw their coasters at them.

Daniel noted that we men had our drink coasters carefully placed in front of us, while those ladies had theirs casually tossed across the bar. He thinks it's a secret gay code, that only women understand.

I then proceeded to tell him about the greatest strip club I've ever been to in my life. It was along the Coast Highway in Oregon, South of Portland, in the seventies. It was a converted old Cafe, with a big counter in the middle, and chairs wrapped all the way around. The counter had been raised up so you could rest your arms on it.

It was a warm Summer day as the Sun filtered in upon the hot raised counter. The bartender women worked the stage, got your drinks, and then the hot young college girls emerged from a dark curtain on the right.

They began squirming along the counter clockwise, completely naked, on their back, with their legs spread.

You couldn't touch them and they were right in your face! Tits and pussy, and your job was to tip. They just kept on squirming on by, until I ran out of tips.

But I digress...


I worked out the chip denominations of MY poker chip set. There are two white rows with slightly different chip block colors, screw that, they're both White and worth One single "Lee ST Buck" each.

Next up are two rows of slightly off color black chip blocks, which will both be Black, and worth Five bucks.

Finally, we have the green and the red rows. I'm thinking Ten bucks for green, and Twenty for red.

I actually have no idea how this is going to work out. It's a no cash in game so just divide the chips into three or four stacks, and see what the hell happens.

I'll update this post after the game...

Update: Limited and Bitch were a no show, fighting amongst themselves...

So, Daniel and I tossed the heavy chips around and played with ourselves.

He finally claimed he won, having taken all of the red chips he had won from me earlier, and plopped them down on an illegal bet as he was hiding his last drawn card to fill a straight. You can't do that, but this is fun poker, so I went all in, let's play the cards!

My two pair beat his failed straight, but he claimed that since I couldn't match his large stack of reds that he put on the table in an illegal manner, that he won.

So, I conceded the fucking card game, with no fucking hard feelings, to my next door neighbor fucking Daniel, whom I love.

As to the chip monetary test, the Ones were useless, never played. Maybe because this is a cashless test run.

And Lainey Wilson just took the CMA house down up in Nashville, I really like this girl!

And she just won Album of the Year, WTF?

And now she just won Female Vocalist of the Year, I'm in love...

And finally she took home the top prize, as Entertainer Of The Year.

I have no doubt that my grand-daughter Ariella knows her new little sister is inside that belly, and she can't wait to help out!

Tonight is the CMA awards, up the road, and I'll be playing it in the background as we get a poker game on.

I was just checking out this Lainey Wilson in advance, damn, how did she dodge my radar? I relate to her lyrics:

I got a heart like a truck
It's been drug through the mud
Runs on dreams and gasoline
And that old highway holds the key

My favorite grand-daughter Shelby and I have been discussing Thanksgiving. She has an invite to Fort Lauderdale that she could take her old grandpa to, or we could hookup with Homer down in Pensacola.

I spent an amazing Thanksgiving a few years back with Shelby and Homer. They cooked a great Turkey and Fixins, in her place, while I loved on my great-grand-daughter Prudence. We ended up later that evening at the hottest party in Pensacola.

Homer Jolly was a well known local artist at the time. Now he's a famous one, and he designed and created the new Alabama Gulf Coast Zoo along the way. What I'm saying is, Thanksgiving with Homer could be much fun.

Either way it goes, I'm getting out of town and spending it with Shelby, and wherever we land, I'll have my cool poker case with me, and a beautiful lady on my arm.

I thought I was going to get out and about today, when our lovely mail lady stopped in front and walked around to the back of her truck. Oh yea, I had that poker set coming today, so I went out and met her. Glad I did, it's heavy!

And very nice, everything has a quality look and feel. Hopefully we can get a game going tonight.

There's a sweet new deck of cards, five poker dice, whatever they're for, and three Texas Hold'M chips. There are also instructions for playing Hold'M, but that game has a bunch of rules and procedures, that should not be attempted tonight. Draw and Blackjack will be fine.

Teleport yourself here tonight Shelby and pull up a chair. It was our recent games together that inspired this great poker set! Actually I have to include neighbor Daniel in that insperation, since we've been playing nightly.

Who Am I? This question permeates every movement I make forward in this moment called life. It doesn't matter who I was in the past, that's done, history. The past now defines me as just a raw field of energy and knowledge, surviving here in Tennessee as an old male human.

My emotions fluctuate between sad and happy. My sexual feelings have been driving and confusing me, and that cool wagon I rode on for eleven days down to Tampa has been swept into the fucking Bay.

I've got a little bag of local bud that I'm using to break on through to the other side. Tomorrow's poker party should finish that off, and that's fine.

This marks the fifth consecutive year I've been facing the Holidays here in early November. I've faced it better, and much worse, and now I'm just hoping for a smooth survival time back into Spring.

Other than that, I'm nice, loving, peaceful, thoughtful, emotional, and intelligent.

I sometimes wish I had someone to share this adventure with, but that's just crazy talk. I'm way too far gone for that to work.

So, this is me...


Ok, I'll reveal the obvious, I am currently on drugs. I've been taking this mixture of Fentanyl, Heroin, Meth, and Peyote, with a dash of Lysergic Acid Diethylamide, for years now.

Hey, some people make strange trendy smoothies, this is my druuggie. There are so many ins and outs and sideways going on with this droctail, it all mellows out into that wonderful crazy together man everyone sees as Old Man Jim.

As you arrive here at the junction of this Post, you will probably have one of two reactions: "OMG, I never knew!", or "Bullshit, what's the reality?

Ok, that was my attempt to write fiction, and it felt strange. I live inside a body of honesty, I have no reason to tweak a fact just to make myself look better to the listener of my story. Or make myself look worse if it fits the narrative.

I tell my story, a lot of it here, with every bit of honesty and reality I can muster, because to do otherwise, disrespects the actual memory moment.

I'm way to old to do anything but tell the truth, to everyone. That doesn't mean I'm an open book, and that I share everything with everyone. No, I have secrets that most don't know, and I share them with a rare few, if I share them at all.

So, despite a couple of intriguing secrets, who the fuck am I? And why should anyone give a flying fuck about me? The answer is, you shouldn't, but here you are, so lets go!

I took care of errands this morning and pulled into Preston's in Leoma just as they opened.

I sat in one of their side areas and a group of three older people, two ladies and a guy, came in. As they were moving to the table next to me I was getting the good old boy, how you doing routine, from them. I guess this is just the way seniors greet another single senior around here.

As I was peacefully eating my improperly made, but good, Chicken and Dumplins in a single bowl with no sides, I noticed the woman across from the couple making eye contact with me.

Ya know, if I was interested in meeting very nice god-fearing folks, and single women, I could be more out there. I could have walked over and said hi to the lady, and then told her that I have lost my only belt, and I'm afraid that my shorts might hit the ground as I head to the cashier.

I could have then charmed her, saying she looks like a woman who would know how to fix this, maybe even have a solution in her purse. And maybe start something I'm not ready to handle in the slightest.

So I just sauntered to the counter with right hand on hip, holding my shorts up, while the left hand was pulling wallet and cash out of my shirt pocket, because my pants couldn't support the weight.

As I past her, we exchanged smiles, strangers passing on a warm Southern day. As I continued to keep my shorts from meeting my ankles while I walked to my truck, I realized Alabama was off. It was time to just head back home and maybe make the Park later.

Now where is that damned belt...

Update: After exausting every possible place it could be, I finally narrowed it down to one spot off my office computer station, a place I never set clothes, just bedding and sheets and stuff. I dug down to the bottom and found my belt, attached to my favorite black shorts, that I had also lost. Yea!!!

I actually have a day planned out for tomorrow. The weather is going to be amazing for November here, a low of 53° and a high of 80°.

I'm going to see my Farmers Insurance agent in the morning about lowering my rate, down from the new increase. We have to take a stand against bullshit inflation creep!

I've got a small check for $51.23 that came in from my Oaklahoma gas well, that I'll cash at my bank drive-thru, then buy myself some Preston's Tuesday Special Chickin an Dumplins down in Leoma.

And since I'm already South I'll just keep on going down to Florence, AL. It should be a beautiful day to hang out on the Tennessee river and enjoy Alabama!

It's nice to have a plan, plans are good, beats hanging out around the house watching NetFlix and Fox...

I don't know if anyone's noticed, but I've stopped feeding my ducks in the Park. As Winter approaches they need to toughen up and hunker down. I did slip by there before breakfast at the Park on Sunday, and they were happy, playing in the lake, and they spotted me. It was good to see my friends as they came rushing over, and I fed them, from my hands as usual.

I hope Limited and Bitch can make it over Wednesday evening for Poker with the new chips. It's also CMA awards night, so live Country Music playing on my big screen in the background, sounds good to me.

My neighbor Daniel and I have been picking up where Shelby and I left off up in Nashville. We've been playing poker the last couple of nights, just trying to beat the other.

So, I just ordered a nice Poker set with chips, from Amazon, be here Wednesday. I'd like to set a game up with, you know, the gang (Pussy, Asshole, Limited and Bitch).

It would be fun to enter chips into the equation, everyone gets the same amount to start, and the winner is the one with the most at the end. No money involved, just the fun of the game.

Daniel's been chattering about pickled eggs and pickled okra, so I bought a jar of each at the Cash Savers today. Both were great! I just needed some deep fried butter to make this a complete Southern meal.

I used to travel Mexico a lot in the mid-seventies with my Japanese wife Marcy. On one adventure we met another American couple who invited us out to the Sand Dune Hill Climb event the next day.

We found our new friends and climbed up into the back seat of a monster fucking big truck and headed to the start line. We were huge compared to the other large trucks.

As the countdown continued down, the guy say's "no, it's too easy this way" and flipped that baby around in a heartbeat. Suddenly, we're blasting up the side of this sand dune, backward, while the competition on both sides faded away.

We don't give Backwards the respect it's totally due.

As the story goes, four people were sitting around a round table when a question arose from the gray mist: If you could describe yourself with one word, what would it be.

As each word of truth came forward, the surprising small hands of the sole woman at the table, created this. But, to be honest here, the word Dick did not come from Chris's mouth, it came from the Bitch's mouth. He did not get a chance to get his word out, because she inserted it and passed him on by, because she's, you know, The Bitch.

It's interesting how one word can come blasting from your brain, one word to define yourself. It's also interesting how your friends perceive themselves. I don't agree with any of their perceptions, and hopefully they don't agree with mine.

What is your word, my friend the Dick, we can update this document!

Update: Dick has been changed to Limited.

I'm trying to access my next move, but I'm not seeing it. Survival is always good I suppose, while I watch the wagon roll on down the road without me. Thank god it's the season and my two favorite holidays are coming up, and I've already set a precedent by spending Halloween in a Chattanooga nightclub. And I trust that anyone that knows me in the slightest spots the facetiousness in that favorite holiday crap.

My auto insurance continues to go up, even though I've never filed a claim with Farmers in thirty years. I guess my agent needs that $30 to have lunch with my landlord, who also raised my rent by $25. When you live on a fixed income there ain't nobody or nothin you can raise to make up for it. But hey, look at all of the benefits I'm gaining for the money!

When you get old, life becomes a lose lose situation. The best thing I can say about my life, is that I still have a platform to bitch about it from. One day I'll have pissed off or bored the very last person who bothers to read this blog, at which point this thing will be done.

I made a new friend over the last few days, his name is Stormy. He's a world class body builder, runs a gym in Pensacola and consumes 4,000 calories a day. He flew up to D.C. to drive Shelby's U-Haul down to Tampa and he's driving back there in a few days with a dresser in his truck.

There's no romance here, just great friends, and my single grand-daughter Shelby is the hottest catch in Tampa, if you could keep up with her.

My latest run at sobriety was a good one. I accomplished my goal of meeting Shelby's friends with a straight face, and I'm proud of that.

But in the process I became painfully aware that the addiction was still there and all I was doing was forcibly denying it. In the middle of day eleven as we were heading out to dinner with friends, I new it was over.

So what is a man to do in this situation? I'm not getting what I really want out of life, I've run out of goals, and I'm lying flat on my back having fallen off that fucking wagon, once again.

I really don't know what's going to happen next, or even what I'm going to do today. Each step forward this morning has felt like a step back.

Maybe that's the solution, turn around and start walking backwards. I'm really good at pissing and moaning about my past life, at least this way I'll be able to see it more clearly. I can use my new phone as a backup camera, just to make sure I'm not walking off a cliff.

I'm back home from that little drive down to Tampa, FL. I left there early yesterday morning and drove a bunch. Half way up I75 South of Atlanta my electronics bit the dust. It all boiled down to the charger plugin outlet that feeds everything, and it was hot.

I pulled into a Rest Area and discovered that I actually do have my act together. Inside my glove box was a full fuse kit with a plastic extractor. I found the burnt fuse, popped a 15amp back in there, and down the highway I rolled, charging everything again.

I wasn't sure how far I wanted to go and kept playing different scenarios out on my GPS as I drove North. I remembered a little club up in Chattanooga that had a quiet spot in the back to crash for the night, so I headed there.

As the place was shutting down I talked to the boss and told him I had a bit to drink and was going to crash in his gated yard, and he said fine. But I couldn't sleep on my bed in the back because it was wet.

So I grabbed a blanket and my pillow and hunkered down in the drivers seat. After a while I woke up and drove my ass home. I just barely found a gas station open and damned if I didn't make it!

So here I am, home again. It's 0245 the day after Halloween. I was going to hit the beach yesterday with Shelby and setup a candy dispensary from her garage. I have absolutely no regrets bailing on my amazing grand-daughter, because she had amazing things to do. And entertaining me was in the way of everything.

It's really good to be home.

Update: It's really good to be awake! Apparently I passed out here in my chair a few hours ago. I guess I should get this post up now, while I can...