How Well Do You Know Earl Junior?

In lieu of an actual update. I'll give you some crappy link with a lot of pop ups.

Enjoy!

So I'm in IRC today. And I'm trying to chat with all the deadheads, and things aren't working. So I start typing. I don't know where I'm going, or what I'm doing. But I'm going and I'm doing. Below is what I came up with. Sorry if you don't find it as fun as I did, but this is my Blog so tough.

It appears just as I typed it, excpet for I cleaned up the spelling some.

Have a good day now.

Monday was a holiday in the greater United States of America. I, working for the great state of Idaho like I do, had the day off. It was a beautiful, sunshiny day. So I decided to take a walk.

I grabbed my sidearm (we've still got wild Indians out west here) and headed for the outhouse as I had a little "business" to take care of before I got too far from the home place.

Just as I was about to open the door, the damned thing blew up. I reckon a bit too much methane built up in the stupid thing and I guess a stray lightning bug musta touched 'er off. Mrs. Junior'd been naggin' at me about cleanin' out that stopped-up gas vent, but I kept puttin' it off. So I figured I'd best get a new one built afore she got home.

So I grabbed the hounds and we all piled into the truck and headed off for the lumber yard. Well, we no sooner got 'round the corner from the ol' place than we seen Mrs. Johnstone walkin' up 8th street.

Now, normally, this wouldn't be anything so newsworthy, but seems the Johnstones got a pet raccoon for Christmas and the little lady was takin' Peppy (the 'coon) fer a little stroll.

Well, the hounds (Bo, Luke, and Miss Daisy), they ain't none too fond o' raccoons. So they set off to bayin' and bouncin' 'round in the back o' the truck there. And we'd have been OK if that idiot Miller kid hadn't run the stop light in front of me and caused me to slam on the brakes.

Soon as we'd stopped, them hounds took off like a nerd outta gym class. They done me right proud. They run ol' Peppy right a tree and sat down to wait for me to catch up. Unfortunately, Mrs. Johnstone hadn't let go of the leash yet. So, she's up there with that little critter.

I finally got the truck pulled over to the curb and make my way over to what had quickly become one helluva mess. I got the hounds leashed and locked up in the truck. I coax Mrs. Johnstone out of the tree, but I'll be damned if that 'coon wanted to come down.

So I says to hell with it and head off for a cold beer.

I gets down to the bar and the fellas are sittin' 'round watchin' the 'lympics on the ol' boob-tube. So I pull up my stool, grab a cold one and start to watchin' along with 'em.

Now 'bout this time, Ol' Man Johnstone comes in and wants to know what I done to get his wife in such a tizzy. "I ain't gonna get none for a month" he says. "Oh shut it, Phil,” I says. "She weren't never any good in the sack nohow." Phil thinks about it for a second and decides I'm right (as usual) and sits down to share a cold one with us.

So we's watchin' the bobsleddin' on tv when Harry Lister (we call him Ponch, on a counta his habit of wearing this stupid ol' poncho all the damned time. He thinks its cuz he looks like that guy from CHiPs), he gets to prattlin' on about that one summer we all built soapbox racers and how the bobsleds kinda remind him of that summer.

So then Jimbo picks it up. Laughin' and gigglin' and carryin' on 'bout how much fun that was. And pretty soon we're all out behind the bar pullin' the wheels off the dumpster and searchin' real hard for some scrap wood.

Well, when eight or ten half-drunk, fully determined fellers get to puttin' their mind to somethin' it don't take long to see that troubles a brewin'.

We had us a four man bobsled crafted outta cardboard, beer bottles, a half-dozen two-buh-fours and a coupla rolls of duct tape in less than twenty minutes.

Then the trouble started.

We couldn't decide who was gonna get to steer and which of us was gonna be the pushers. Well, we ended up playin' a little rock-paper-scissors, for drivin' rights. And o' course Billy Bob won. He has this theory 'bout rock-paper-scissors, if he can thump you hard enough then pretty soon you stop tryin' to win and give up. So the biggest of us ended up gettin' to drive.

We's just gettin' ready to push the Jenny Lynn (which was what we named the contraption what we created) across the parking lot when Harold drove up in his Cadillac-car and spoiled the fun. Harold (he owns My Alibi (the bar)) said he didn't want no part of us killin' ourselves on his property and made us haul Jenny Lynn outta his parkin' lot.

Well, that kinda put things in a bad way for us. We didn't want no punk kids comin' by and tearin' ol' Jenny Lynn up none. And it didn't take us long to remember that The Alibi (it's my alibi and I'm stickin' to it we always say) sits at the top of Main Street Grade.

Main Street Grade is about a half mile long and ends up in the World War Memorial Park right in front of the courthouse.

Well, Billy Bob he crawls in behind the tap handle we's usin' for a steerin' wheel and starts to count down. Me, Phil, and Jimbo get into position and are ready to push when Billy Bob gets to zero. 3...2...1...GO! And we're off.

We head down the street past the Five-and-Dime, the Baskin Robbins, Jimmy's Drug Store, Phil's Barber Shop, and The Pink Lady (which used to be a topless bar, but now is a groomin' shop for dogs of all things. Stupid name if you ask me). That puts us about three-quarters of the way down the hill, and we're doin' alright. But then the tap handle breaks and I hear Billy Bob say somethin' that ain't polite to repeat in mixed company.

So just as I'm wonderin' if The Pink Lady is ever gonna change their sign from the smilin' neon lady with the great big hooters (and whether or not the missus'd let me keep it in the shop when they do) I realize we got no brakes. Some of the best minds in the town built the Jenny Lynn, but not a one of us remembered we might want to be stoppin' at some point.

Here we are careening down Main Street Grade headed right for the ol' Sherman Tank in the park. That is, if we get through through intersection at First Street.

Luckily, ol' officer Brookes (who was on traffic duty on account of it was the lunch hour rush and all) he saw us comin'. Well, he blew on his whistle and managed to get traffic stopped (BOTH cars believe it or not) just in time for us to run against the 'Don't Walk' sign and crash into Bessy (the Sherman Tank in the park).

Ol' Bessy has been sittin' on that concrete pillar for somewhere around 25 years now and you know what they say about work done by the lowest bidder. Apparently Billy Bob thought the tank was too heavy to ever be pushed off the pillar and so he didn't stake 'er down like he was supposed to.

Well, Bessy started to wobble, and then she started to roll. And then she managed to gain speed. And then she was in the fountain.

Ol' officer Brookes was madder than a hornets nest doused in kerosene when he got down to the park.

Phil, and Billy Bob, and Jimbo and I ended up as guests of the County while Brookes rounded up our wives (except he had to find Billy Bob's daughter on account of his ol' lady left him years ago).

And so, if I have any words of advice to give you folks tonight, it'd be "Wild animals make poor pets."

Thanks, and have a good evening.

Hey! This thing still works.

I guess I best be using it a little more often.

Tomorrow is St. Valentine's Day. Lots of people like to bitch and moan about the day. They say it's a tool for Hallmark. Well, you probably know the complaints. I kind of like it. It gives me a chance to do something nice (and often expensive) for Mrs. Junior, and she won't whine at me about the way I waste money. This year we're going to a dinner theatre. We'll be treated to a wine and cheese tasting, cocktails, dinner, dessert, coffee and A Tuna Christmas (which I've never heard of, but I reckon it'll be fun). All for the low, low price of $78.50 each. Which I reckon isn't too bad for an evening on the town.

Let me see, what else is new?

I'm going to be an uncle again. My sister is due to have another little boy February 24, 2002. The doctors are saying up to five days early. I reckon I'll try to get over to Seattle and see them all. This means I need to look up some of the Brunchers while I’m there. MsChilePepper: This means you.

The Junior's are buying a home. The house it self isn't anything super special, but the lot is huge. 110 x 320 feet, right on the edge of town. I'm putting a 60 x 80 feet, two-story shop on the back part right away. I'm more excited about the shop than the house, I think. Mrs. Junior is driving me crazy with decorating plans for the house. If I never look at material for drapes, if I never touch another square of parquet floor, if I NEVER inspect another 3x3 square of carpet it'll be WAY TOO SOON!

My dad is fully retired now. He and mom sold everything, bought a new Chevy diesel a 30 foot fifth-wheel trailer and a piggy back bass boat. They're happily touring the southwestern United States right now. I'm happy for them. They're getting to do exactly what they wanted to with their retirement. I do wish dad was getting along better though. But things are looking up.

Snow season came upon us all at once this year and I've been out on my snowmobile every chance I get. This is good. With the new house I don't think we'll be able to get out much anymore. We're pretty broke. But we made it to McCall, ID a couple of times, and spent a good chunk of time in the Blue Mountains of eastern Washington. One good thing about putting them away early is that I haven't broken anything major on my sled this year. (Knock on wood).

I think that is about all the news that is fit to print.

I'll close with some warm-fuzzies for the impending Lover's Day:

I'm sleeping and right in the middle of a good dream
And all at once I wake up
From something that keeps knocking at my brain
Before I go insane I hold my pillow to my head
And spring up in my bed screaming out the words I dread
I think I love you

This morning I woke up with this feeling
I didn't know how to deal with
And so I just decided to myself
I'd hide it to myself
And never talk about it
And didn't I go and shout it
When you walked in to the room
I think I love you

I think I love you
So what am I so afraid of
I'm afraid that I'm not sure of
A love there is no cure for
I think I love you
Isn't that what life is made of
though it worries me the same
That I never felt this way

I don't know what I'm up against
I don't know what it's all about
I've got so much to think about

I think I love you
So what am I so afraid of
I'm afraid that I'm not sure of
A love there is no cure for
I think I love you
Isn't that what life is made of
though it worries me the same
I never felt this way

Believe me
You really don't have to worry
I only wanna make you happy
And if you say, hey go away, I will
But I think better still
I better stay around and love you
Let me ask you to your face

Do you think you love me
I think I love you
I think I love you
I think I love you
I think I love you.

PS- If you followed my link from The Brunching Shuttlecocks let me know earl_junior@hotmail.com

Thanks!

EJr

I am sorry I've fallen behind here. Things have been, um, happening.

My dad is still not doing well. He's been in and out of the hospital a couple of times since our last chat. Still having problems with his muscle control. His diaphragm has been acting up. It spasms and he can't breathe. My mom has given him mouth-to-mouth twice now. The hospital sent home an air bag last week so it is easier for her to help out if it happens again. Ma and Pa are in Portland at some specialist's office this week. We are all hoping that we can get a straight diagnosis and maybe a treatment plan.

To add insult to illness, my folks are flat broke. They sold all their vehicles except one (and the boat 'cause dad still wants to go fishing), dropped all the bills they could, and are really having to scrape by on what mom makes. She has a daycare in her home, so it isn't a lot. The problem is that dad can't qualify for disability without a firm diagnosis. And the doctors don't know what is going on, so they won't write him one. They can't just fake it because that is fraud and both the doctor and my folks could get in big trouble. So dad is on extended absence without leave at work and is only getting 1/4 his regular check.

I've been doing everything I can for them and I'm starting to get run down. Last weekend my brother-in-law and I went out and cut three cords of wood, split and stacked it for the fireplace. I've also had to tend to the garden, mow their lawn, paint the house, roof the garage and all kinds of other things.

Oh, maybe I should mention that my mom recently had surgery. She isn't supposed to do any lifting and really shouldn't raise her arms above shoulder level. I won't say what kind of surgery she had, but she doesn't look like my mom much anymore. Her general upper body shape has changed amazingly.

I've been keeping busy with work and classes. With any luck I'll get that all important degree in May and be finally done with school (until I go for my Masters). So far I haven't skipped a single class (which is pretty good for me)!

Its been a week and a day since the attacks in New York and Washington D.C. I've had some time to think about what happened, and I'm going to share my thoughts with you (whether you want them or not).

The general idea of the attack chills me to the core. The idea that we, I'm using the royal we, are that vulnerable to a terrorist attack is absolutely frightening. And, yes, I am scared. Frightened for the future of our nation. I don't think we can ever go back to the way we were before.

I am a country away from the attacks, and I've never seen either the Pentagon or the World Trade Center, so it really is hard to put these things in any kind of reference. Its almost as if I'm hearing about an earthquake in South American country. It is sad, yes, but I'm really having troubles imagining the devastation and the loss of life. I really have very little experience with death. Nobody I'm close to has died.

I am extremely angry. I want to kick someone's ass! I'm having trouble focusing my anger though. And I think the entire nation is having the same problem. If they aren't, they should be. The last I heard Osama Bin Laden is our prime suspect, but we can't conclusively prove that he is behind these attacks. So while I want to hate his guts, and I want to bomb his ass back to the stone age, I can't quite do it. I'm not sure he did it, and I can't/won't condemn him out of hand.

I am also angry at anyone who says we brought this on ourselves. The entire idea is utter bullshit! Nobody in New York asked to be killed. American and United didn't ask to have their planes hijacked. Innocent people did not ask to be killed! The people this attack hurt have no real power over foreign policy. The average American Citizen has no say in how we act in Bosnia, in the middle east, in Iran or in Afghanistan. Hell, most of the people I now readily admit that we are not any kind of saint in our world dealings. But we're far from the worst.

Read a history book sometime on how France treated Vietnam. Or England's role in India, and Turkey. Look at Spain in South America. Why aren't people hijacking airliners and flying them into the Louver, or Big Ben, or something similar in Spain?!?

I think we're looking at a protracted land war. All military sources seem to agree that bombing will not work in a war against Bin Laden and his factions. I'm predicting another Vietnam. We're facing a highly mobile, well funded, very dedicated, well trained, not-scared-to-die enemy. And while I have faith in our armed forces, I sincerely hope we learned a thing or three from Vietnam and Korea.

I've managed to write myself into a vague depression. Great.

So how 'bout something happy. One of our friends (Mrs. Junior's and mine) has finally filed for divorce. YAY! I tend to dislike divorce, but in certain cases its better to get out than get drug down. He was emotionally abusive, a drunk, perpetually unemployed, and so deep in debt to loan sharks it was scary. We're doing our best to take care of her and her little boy (and the one she's got on the way). She is an emotional wreck, but is getting better every day. She has found a nice apartment, gotten a new job, been through all the assistance paperwork is starting to swing back up. If you're reading this kid, I'm pulling for you!

I think that's everything I wanted to get off my chest. So I'm going to sign off.

See you around.

EJr

PS- Support America. Get back to your daily lives. Buy stocks (there's a real opportunity to buy low and sell high here).

One full week of college is behind us. In a surprising and totally unexpected move, I haven't missed a class yet. I also bought all my books this year. Something I've never done. Ever.

Yesteday was Mrs. Junior's birthday. We went out for a romantic dinner and then I rented us the honeymoon suite at the local Red Lion hotel. It was kinda nice to have cable and A/C (our apartment has neither). And that's all I am going to divulge about that.

I really have no updates for the world this week. I've been so busy at work I have'nt had much time for anything else.

Except dart league started on Tuesday. I guess that is news. I managed to stay sober. That was odd. Sober at the bar for 4 hours. It was nice waking up Wednesday and not having the dead squirrel taste in my mouth.

Instead of bore you all to death, I'm going to go.

Later.

EarlJunior

PS- I'm now on AIM my nick is IdahoEarlJr.

Wow! A whole month to the day since I last updated the cruel uncaring world on the insignificant actions of one poor redneck from Idaho.

I feel kinda guilty.

I've been a busy boy. All kinds of things have been neglected lately. So don't feel neglected, please.

I recently attended an Aerosmith concert at the Gorge Amphitheater in George, WA. I had a blast. Aerosmith simply rocks in concert. I managed to give myself a mohawk and then to dye it purplish using Kool-Aid in on of the communal sink at the Gorge campground. I thought it looked good. A bit uneven (as we were all fairly drunken at the time), but good none-the-less. Mrs. Junior disagreed. I am now clean shaven.

Saturday after the concert we managed to make it into Spokane, WA for the AHRA World Finals. A full day of alcohol burning funny cars, nitro-methane fueled dragsters, jet powered dragsters and some of the fastest street legal cars west of the Mississippi. The smoke clings to your lungs, the smell of burnt rubber hangs in the air, and nitro exhaust burns your eyes. I loved every minute of it. The only bad thing is that beer is $5 for a 24 oz cup.

Sunday was more fun at the racetrack and Sunday night we ventured out to visit the girls of Deja Vu.

My dad spent this past weekend in the hospital with a repressed respiratory system. He couldn't catch his breath and his blood gasses were way down. He's doing much better now, but we'd all feel much better if we could get a straight diagnosis and a treatment plan.

A bunch of family came into town when they found out he was in the hospital. My aunt and uncle from San Francisco came all the way to Idaho to be with my mom. My sister, her boyfriend and my nephew came to visit as well as a whole gaggle of local relatives. I think dad was glad to see everybody, but he complains that everybody is making a big deal out over him. His spirits definitely seem up again and it was good to hear him laugh with his sisters.

School starts here again on Wednesday. Things are hopping at work, and I'm just a bit stressed. I will never understand why people think they can wait till the last minute to apply for school and still expect to get federal funds before classes start. C'mon people! You're asking the federal government for money. This is not going to be an overnight process. And when I'm made to feel that it is my fault that your entire world is falling apart and you're going to kill 40 people and you're kids are going to need counseling and Botswana is going to become a Communist state because your check won't be here till next fucking Monday I am going to get a little defensive! GET A FREAKING CLUE! And that's all I got to say about that.

I guess that's all the news that's fit to print, so I'll be moving along now.

Until we meet again, stay free and easy.

Well, hello there.

We have a big treat for you today, faithful reader. A rather extended post to the ol' Freakishly Freaky page.

Reasons I haven't been posting:
1. Dad's illness
2. Trying to buy a home
3. Trying to get a mortgage
4. Busy spending time with nephew
5. Lazy

To recap:
My dad is still doing poorly. But he isn't as bad as he was.
I'm still married.
My job still sucks eggs.
My second job still kicks ass (more on this later).
I have the world's cutest nephew (Feel free to argue this point, but you'll only be wasting your breath).

Adventures in Babysitting
My sister and her live-in boyfriend went to Vegas for a week to see his sister get married. They left my 15 month old nephew (Quincy) with our folks for two whole weeks. Because of Dad's illness Mrs. Junior and I have been attending to the tyke intermittently. I am totally and completely infatuated with the guy. He has the cutest giggle, and he loves to laugh. Just sit and laugh (at first it was unnerving, but you get used to it quick). And he has that toddler waddle, which is more of an old western cowboy strut. And he is just learning to talk. He says "Mama" "Dada" "Nie-nie"(bottle) and "Bank" (his Pooh blankie, or his binkie it depends). The whole time he's been here I've only seen him cry just before bed time.

Mrs. Junior has never been much of a baby person, but she is in love too. After this home thing gets settled, be watching for an addition to the Junior Family. ;)

The things I do for money
My second job at my second home. I bounce at The Alibi (good name for a bar, no?). The band lately has been Native Sun out of Spokane, WA. These guys are a blast. They really get into the music and it is obvious they're having fun. This Saturday we got slammed! Abso-freaking-lutely packed in there. It was a busy night for the security crew: we had three fights and a couple of drunken strippers (all patrons must unfortunately remain fully clothed in bars in my hometown). Plus I got hit on seven times. SEVEN TIMES!! I am, apparently, a babe magnet. This is something that could have been brought to my attention before I was happily married.

First was Jenny. I went to school with her. She was part of the in crowd in high school. I was not. She asked my name, and asked "What time do you get off? Can I be part of the process?" Or something really close to that. I didn't get that at first. Then I blushed. Deeply, and brightly. She thought that was cuter than shit. About this time fight #1 broke out. I didn't see her after that. On my scale of ten Jenny is an eight.

Fight #1: Cowboy #1's girlfriend spilled beer on Cowboy #2's new boots. Hilarity ensued.

Janey: Asked if I was single. Told her "no". Said my girl was an idiot for letting me out alone in public. Saw her off and on all night. Kept winking at me. Janey is a 7.

Libbey: One of the regulars of the two-steppin' crowd. Came over to "...give me shit about my choice in women..." Libbey has the most gorgeous blue-green eyes. I don't think they were contacts either. Of all the girls I met Saturday, this one impressed me the most. Witty, intelligent, cuter than a button, and she had this lock of hair that kept falling over her left eye (very coy looking, and extremely sexy). Fight #2 broke out while she was writing her number on a bar coaster. She smiled and talked to me every time I saw her the rest of the night. Libbey is a solid 9.

Fight #2: Cowboy #3 v. Cowboy #4 in the heavy weight match of the year. Emphasis on the heavy. These boys were big. The other bouncer and I couldn't keep them apart. So we backed off and let them scuffle till the cops showed up. Thank God they decided to throw down in the hallway to the rest room. Nothing got broke, but Cowboy #4 got maced when he swung at Mr. Policeman.

Melissa, Erica, Jodie, and some fat chick: I was unimpressed. Poor lines, bad delivery. The fat chick was drunk and tried to get me to take her clothes off.

Fight #3: Cowboy #5 and posse v. Punk Kid #1 and crew. Happened in the parking lot. By the time I got from the front door to the back door and through the crowd that always gathers at these things it was over. Cowboys 1, Punk Kids 0.

The continuing adventures of Earl Junior
I'm going to Texas tomorrow. I'll be attending to days of training in Irving, and then heading to Houston to meet a few people. I'm extremely excited.

Home, sweet, home
Ever tried to buy a home? These people want to know everything. Form a character statement from my kindergarten teacher all the way through accounting for every dime I've ever held in my hand my entire life.

Luckily we are done with the mortgage part. And we found a house we've made an offer on. It is a beauty, and we're hoping to get it way below market value. Cross your fingers.

That's all the news that is fit to print. So until next time, friend, hasta lumbago.