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May 30, 2007
Lumbago, The Beginning; Part 2, Swedish Meatballs
Scene
6 months after the accident. The office of Chief Karl Olaffson, Minneapolis Police Department. Chief Olaffson is meeting with Lumbago's immediate superior, Captain Jarl Gustaffson, Homicide Squad, who just walked in, ostensibly to discuss Lumbago's future.
Karl: Morning Jarl. Come in and take a load off.
Jarl: Morning Karl. Say is that a new chair ?
Karl: Sure is. Just delivered last night. It's got tilt, recline, and lookee here, a massager. Isn't it a humdinger ?
Jarl: Ya, ya, it's a humdinger all right.
Karl: Ya, I love it. So Jarl, how's the family ?
Jarl: Oh, family's okay. Ya, ya, okey-dokey. Say, did I tell you Bobby's starting college next year ?
Karl: College ? Already ? Boy, time sure does fly eh Jarl ?
Jarl: Ya, ya, it sure does Karl.
Karl: Oh hey, I heard about your father-in-law. Geez, that was too bad. You have my sympathies. And tell Susie I'm sorry too.
Jarl: Thanks Karl, I'll tell Susie you said that, she'll appreciate it. But hey, there's one good thing. I got the snowblower !
Karl: You mean the big Honda ? Well, say that's great Jarl, the Honda's a humdinger !
Jarl: Ya, ya, sure is. A real humdinger.
Karl: So Jarl, about what we discussed the other day. Any ideas ?
Jarl: You mean Lumbago ? Ya, ya, I think I have something for you Karl. It's a little out there but I've researched this and it could work as long as we present it right.
Karl: Well I'm not usually big on ideas that are "out there" Jarl but I'm getting desperate. The man's become an embarassment to the whole force since the accident. It's as if he lost his mind along with his dick. Do you think that's possible ?
Jarl: Well, you know what women say Karl, men's brains are in their dicks eh ? Ha ha.
Karl: Ya, they do say that eh Jarl ? Anyway, the man's an embarrasment but I don't want to fire him, you know ? I'd rather get him a job elsewhere. Heck, we'll even pay them as long as somebody's willing to take him off our hands.
Jarl: And that's where my idea comes in Karl. The Minneapolis SPCA is short of money again this year. They're willing to give Lumbago a little office they're not using for $250 a month. Of course we'd pay his salary like we agreed but heck, it sounds like a good deal to me.
Karl: Ya, that's a good deal all right. But what do we tell Lumbago ?
Jarl: That's the beauty part of the plan Karl. Since he's completely nuts anyway we tell him the SPCA just set up a top secret homicide squad to investigate mysterious animal deaths. Heck, he'll take to it like a duck takes to water.
Karl: Sounds like a plan Jarl. Get him in here and we'll pitch it to him right now.
Posted by OldGuy at 4:10 PM | Comments (2)
Lumbago update
Still haven't had a chance to finish part 2 but I'm working on it. It will definitely be posted tonight
Posted by OldGuy at 1:33 PM
May 25, 2007
Lumbago, The Beginning; Part 1, The Accident
Lumbago had just two weaknesses, porn and cigars. He normally didn't mix them, preferring to savour each in its own time. Secretly though he'd always wanted to try the two together. It was sort of like those freaks who tied plastic bags over their heads during sex because otherwise they couldn't get off. Except for him it wasn't a need, just a desire for adventure. Plus he had no intention of suffering brain anoxia because it could lead to brain damage, and he certainly didn't want to damage his fine brain, sharp as it was, and filled with years of training and experience in police work. Besides, he wasn't that stupid.
Friday, after a long day at work Lumbago stopped at his favourite store, which was located in the seedy part of town, but did a brisk business in skin magazines, adult toys, contraband Cuban cigars, and fine Belgian chocolates. He purchased the latest Penthouse and a box of Corona Grands. While he was paying for his purchases it occurred to him briefly, as did most of his thoughts, there one minute gone the next, to ask why they stocked Belgian chocolates but before he had a chance to ask the thought was gone, and he remembered that Sunday was Mother's Day so he bought a box of chocolates. The clerk asked him if he wanted a bag. Lumbago said yes so the clerk put his purchases in a pink plastic bag with the store's logo, a buxom blonde straddling a muscular young man, one hand on his chest, the other holding a piece of chocolate, emblazoned across it in bright colours.
Lumbago left the store and made his way home, swinging the bag and humming a merry tune. Several people recognized him, waved, and said hello. Some noticed the bag and commented that it looked like he had a big night planned.
Once home Lumbago carried everything into the bathroom. He dimmed the lights, lowered his pants and sat down on the toilet. He carefully removed the Penthouse and the cigar from the bag. He set the Penthouse on the floor in front of him, then unwrapped and lit his cigar. He took a long leisurely puff and flicked the ashes into the sink next to him. Wanting to build up to the big moment he started with the letters section of the magazine. He soon had a good rhythm going, stroking and puffing like a steam engine. He reached out with his toe and flipped the page to the centrefold.
And that's when things went wrong.
Lumbago was hit with an involuntary spasm, causing him to drop his cigar. It almost made it between his legs and safely into the bowl however another spasm hit him and he intercepted it in his lap.
It had been a very dry summer in Minneapolis and the city had imposed water restrictions, asking people to conserve water however possible. Lumbago, being a good citizen, had reduced his water intake to one glass a day and showers to one a week. As a result he was as dry as kindling so when the cigar landed in his lap he burst into flames instantly.
He bolted off the toilet seat and jumped in the shower. He was about to turn the faucet when he remembered the water restrictions. Why ? Why ? Why ? Good God, didn't those idiots at city hall foresee this kind of thing ? He jumped out of the shower and began rolling on the floor. The bath mat caught fire. Now what ? He spotted a can of hair spray left behind by a colleague and sometime bed partner. He didn't notice the warning label on the front. He aimed and sprayed a large cloud of hair spray at his crotch. The ensuing fireball sucked all the air out of the room and blew out the bathroom window.
Gagging and choking, Lumbago staggered out of the bathroom, down the hall, and out the door into the back yard. Through the tears streaming down his face he spotted his neighbour surreptitiously watering his lawn. He screamed for help. His neighbour came running over and doused the flames. Lumbago uttered the words "You're under arrest" then fainted.
Posted by OldGuy at 9:00 AM | Comments (5)
May 24, 2007
It's A Terrorist Plot
Yesterday a lady in our office, which is located in Ottawa, Canada, announced that she's quitting her job. Seems she's going elsewhere. Later in the day I discovered that a friend from Sault Ste. Marie, Canada had also quit her job; her "dream job" that is. This morning someone I haven't heard from in some time left a comment on my blog saying that he just quit his job. He lives in China. Then a little later I surf on over to my favourite blog only to discover that the author told her employers to take their job and shove it. She lives in Minneapolis.
So I figure terrorists have released a gas into the atmosphere that is causing people worldwide to quit their jobs.
Now if I can just figure out why.
Hmmm ...
Posted by OldGuy at 12:59 PM | Comments (5)
May 22, 2007
A Short Long Weekend
Another long weekend come and gone. Why do three day weekends always feel so short ?
Anyway, it was a pretty good weekend. On Saturday we went down to Scotiabank Place (formerly known as the Corel Centre, formerly known as the Palladium; you know how it is, whoever pays the bills gets their name on the building) to watch the Ottawa Senators play the Buffalo Sabres on the big screen television they set up outside (the game was in Buffalo). It was a real party atmosphere with things for the kids to do and stuff. And best of all, Ottawa won the game so now we go to the Stanley Cup ! The picture is the princess with her face painted Senator's black, red and gold. She enjoyed the game and fun as much as her mother and I did.
Sunday was a rainy day so we took advantage of the weather to get a few things done. My wife took the princess shopping and I cleaned the house. Later that evening the princess modelled her new outfits for us. She's very proud of the fact that she got a little bra. Me, I'm freaked out !
Yesterday we lounged around for a good part of the day then went down to the market for beavertails around dinner time. It was quite nice so we took a walk around the area then headed home.
All in all, a good weekend.
Posted by OldGuy at 8:26 AM | Comments (5)
May 15, 2007
Fuzzy
In his youth Fuzzy had been the lead singer in a heavy metal band. For several years he toured with the band, playing larger and larger concerts as the band's fame grew. Eventually they were playing venues like The Hollywood Bowl and Madison Square Garden. They had made it.
The Band had several huge hits, including their Beach Boys inspired "Do You Wanna Dance or Would You Rather Rip Out My Liver" and their soulful ballad "Love Hurts, Especially When You Use the Taser."
Years of playing music at decibel levels approaching that of a revving jet engine and listening to fans scream assorted obscenities loud enough to be heard in Australia had left Fuzzy with 5% hearing in his left ear and 3% in his right. Simply put, if thermonuclear war ever broke out Fuzzy would think someone close by had passed gas and go about his business until he was vaporized.
Another effect of having been a metalhead was that it had left Fuzzy, well, fuzzy. Over the years Fuzzy had consumed enough legal and illegal pharmaceuticals to medicate the population of a medium-sized city into a drug-induced Nirvana. Not to mention the booze. Sales of tequila had been so brisk during Fuzzy's drinking years that he was declared a national hero in Mexico and a statue was erected in his honour in downtown Tijuana.
Then there was the sex. Years and years of indiscriminate sex and the accompanying trips to the doctor for megadoses of penicillin to cure yet another case of something nasty Fuzzy had contracted the day, the week, or the month before had taken its toll on Fuzzy. And that was only the times Fuzzy remembered what had happened and what to do about it. There were several drug and booze induced sexcapades that Fuzzy forgot about as soon as they happened. Unfortunately for Fuzzy some of these encounters extracted a price; a little dose of this, a little dose of that, and Fuzzy's immune system was fighting a losing battle against the nasty little critters determined to make their way to his brain and, once there, annihilate everything in sight.
The net result of Fuzzy's wild life style was that now, at the ripe old age of 50, he was almost completely deaf and mostly brain dead. If it hadn't been for his sense of sight, which allowed him to navigate through a world that was largely foreign to him, Fuzzy would have been a vegetable.
The he went blind.
The doctors weren't sure what the cause was so they advanced a few theories.
They didn't matter much to Fuzzy.
Several years ago, when his brain still functioned somewhat normally, Fuzzy had gotten married and his wife had stayed with him through it all. Partly because she loved him but mostly because he was filthy rich.
Still, Karen had always thought fondly of Fuzzy, so even after his mind began it's catastrophic slide into oblivion she regularly bought him porn magazines to keep him happy. It was a small thing but Fuzzy loved her for it, inasmuch as he was able to love anything. Now that Fuzzy was blind even that little pleasure was denied him. So Karen decided Fuzzy needed to learn braille so he could read porn books.
It was a bad idea.
The first time Karen put a braille book in Fuzzy's hands and guided his fingers over the little bumps Fuzzy imagined hundreds of breasts marching towards him. At first it was erotic but then his ruined brain multiplied them and they turned into thousands. Fuzzy screamed and threw the book away.
Karen waited until he'd calmed down then tried once more but again Fuzzy saw legions of breasts, and this time they were armed. He screamed so loud Karen almost had a heart attack. She decided she'd try again the next day.
It wasn't to be.
That night Fuzzy blew his brains out.
Posted by OldGuy at 2:21 PM | Comments (2)
May 14, 2007
Happy Birthday to the Lad
It's the lad's birthday today, he turns 19 years old so I just wanted to wish him a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY SON!
Posted by OldGuy at 8:53 AM | Comments (2)
May 13, 2007
Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers out there. And to everyone, don't forget to call your mother or give her a card or just do something to make her feel appreciated today. These ladies are pretty darn special. We're going to have a nice Chinese food take out dinner tonight (my wife's choice) and maybe a little glass of wine for the big people and a glass of pretend wine for the princess. I know I'll be thinking of my mother. She died twelve years ago and I still miss her, always will. She taught me a lot and she was one of my best friends.
My wife took me shopping today, you'd almost think it was Father's Day instead of Mother's Day. Seriously though I desperately needed a new pair of shoes and a couple of outfits for work so off we went today and got all that stuff. As much as I hate shopping I'm very happy that she dragged me out to get it done (like she said, "that stuff isn't going to buy itself"). The really good thing was that the princess was at a friend's for a sleepover so we had plenty of time this morning to go and look for stuff. The only thing we didn't have time for was to get my new glasses, so we'll do that this week.
Speaking of going out (yeah, I was speaking about it, you just weren't paying attention) Mrs. OldGuy and I went out together for the first time in a long time last night. As the princess was at a friend's for a sleepover we had the evening to ourselves. We went to a nice little place called The Trio and had drinks and munchies. Afterwards we went to a local pastry and picked up a couple treats to bring home. Once back at the house we had our treats with a little wine and enjoyed each other's company. It was a wonderful evening. Hopefully we won't wait so long to do it again.
The lad called a couple of days ago, says he misses us and wants to come home soon. We miss him too and look forward to seeing him.
So what's the picture ? Well, here's the story. Every spring I clean the barbecue to get it ready for another season of grilling. Last year I didn't do this. The first time I used it, I turned it on to preheat and went back in the house. When I came out again a few minutes later the greasy crud at the bottom had caught fire and was burning so fiercely I thought Saddam Hussein had come back to life and mistaken my barbecue for a Kuwaiti oil rig. All I could do was turn off the gas, close the cover, and pray. Eventually the fire went out but for a while there I thought I'd have to call in Red Adair's people. Anyway, as the barbecue needed a new burner I took the old one off today and decided this was as good a time as any to clean it. The left half of the picture is what it looked like after I'd taken the burner out and had just started scraping out the sticky, gooey, oily, crud. The right half is the nice clean barbecue. So what did I do with the crud ? I snuck into a local McDonald's and dumped into one of their fryers. Judging by the amount of grease dripping off the last burger I had from that place I doubt they'll even notice.
Posted by OldGuy at 2:46 AM | Comments (3)
May 8, 2007
Summer Nights and French Frights
Ah, summer. The weather is warm and the living is easy. This is what I did when I got home yesterday, got a cup of coffee and went and sat outside to read my book. It's so nice to be able to do this at last. See, although we had a couple of warm days a few weekends ago the weather cooled down again until yesterday, when it warmed right up. Today is supposed to be warmer still. This is without question my favourite time of year. No having to dress like an eskimo, no snow to shovel, no mumbling hello to people you meet on the street because you don't want to open your mouth too wide for fear you'll suck in a blast of Artic air that will cause your lungs to freeze solid, killing you instantly.
On another note, this is a French verb conjugator. The conjugator is supposed to help you chose the right tense when writing French. Now, I'm fluently bilingual speaking-wise but I never learned to write French properly. The Princess on the other hand has to write French because she's in French immersion at school. Quite frankly I think written French is dumb. See, in English we have three tenses; past, present and future, so you either did it, are doing it or are going to do it. In French there are lots of tenses. You might have done it by yourself in the past, or you might have done it with a group of people. Ditto for present and future. Also, you might have done it on a Tuesday when the moon was full and one of you was howling like a wolf. All of this matters when writing French, as does the sex of the person(s) doing it (no pun intended). And if you're bisexual don't even bother trying to write about it because it's too damn complicated.
The reason I'm bringing this up is that the princess had to write a story for school so yesterday her mother and I were helping her out. Anyway, long story short, it took forever to go over it because of all this crazy French grammar. Seriously, you have to wonder why anybody would write anything in French.
Posted by OldGuy at 8:28 AM | Comments (3)
May 2, 2007
All I Need Is the Air That I Breathe
Well, it looks like the swallowing-coughing thing isn't over. When I had the endoscopy a couple of weeks ago the doctor "stretched" my swallowing tube, which was supposed to allow food to go down easier. I've still had a few minor difficulties since then and then last night I had a full blown gagging fit after dinner again. For 2-3 minutes it felt like I couldn't breathe but with a little sage advice from my wife (breathe slowly and deeply) I managed to get over it. My back hurt afterwards though, so I must have been really straining.
Anyway, I guess I'll call the doctor again today (which I was supposed to do anyway but had been putting it off).
Update: I just called the doctor's office. It turns out they're still waiting for the results of the first endoscopy but in the meantime them may stretch my swallowing tube again. Hopefully they won't make it so big that I'll swallow my head.
Posted by OldGuy at 9:13 AM | Comments (3)
May 1, 2007
All's Quiet on the Eastern Front
Not too much happening right now, just life rolling along as it tends to do.
We spoke to the lad on the weekend and he was going back to work yesterday after being off work for a few weeks due to an injury he suffered to his hand. I imagine he'll be glad to get back to earning regular money again after being off so soon after starting a new job. He mentioned that he and his friend may be moving to Ottawa in a few months. Seems life in New Brunswick is a wee bit on the slow side. It'll be nice to have him back but he's going to find life in the city a tad more expensive than he's gotten used to. But hey, that's life eh ?
It's been a bit cooler this week than it was last weekend but it's definitely spring nonetheless. I'm looking forward to resuming my walks down Preston Street every morning. Maybe next week. I'll have to take pictures.
Other than that I'm just mulling over a few story ideas and looking forward to being inspired by the sight of some lovely springtime colours.
Cheers and toodle-oo till next time.
Posted by OldGuy at 2:03 PM | Comments (3)