idiot spoon

"darth, you're gonna need a nap after work today. you've been working that idiot spoon all morning." says j, the skinny mechanic with the spikey bleached hair and glasses.

"i am going to need a nap, but it's cause i spent all night at the strip club with my neighbor and his visiting brother."

everyone laughs.

"what's an idiot spoon by the way?"

everyone laughs again.

"it's a shovel."

"oh, in that case, point of fact, i was working the idiot fork."

everyone laughs yet again.

me and the other new guy, z, were out digging trenches to put repaired sprinkler lines back into the ground out at the defunct nursery greens, a brown dead patch off the beaten path somewhere across the 14 fairway and on the other side of a pond. our boss wants to refurbish it and reseed it and use it as a sod bed from which we can pull patches when we get a dead spot.

truth be told, z was working the shovel, and i was coming along behind with a rake and pulling the dirt back into the trench over the new lines.

once that was done, the boss says, "what do we have that will tear up all the weeds and st augustine so we can smooth everything out and get it ready to seed?"

the mechanic j and another of the tractor operators and z and myself all sweep our weather eyes over the contents of the garage.

and we light upon the most beautiful thing i have ever seen: a battered, yellow, rust-pocked, oil-stained massey ferguson tractor that looked like it would as soon chew you up and spit you out as look at you. it actually looked like humungus' car in the road warrior, and i was already formulating plans in my head to steal it and convert it into a four-wheel death machine suitable for traveling the post-apocalyptic wastelands.

j and i rig up a grader with monstrous teeth option, top off the tank, and kick her in the guts. she coughs to life with a rattle and shake, spewing a gout of blue-gray smoke that tastes metallic, while i top off the air in the front tire.

j gives me a quick rundown: "low/hi stick here, and this one; reverse all the way top, 1st, 2nd, 3rd. gas. breaks. throttle. power steering. all the comforts of home."

then i am in the seat. and i am no longer tired. i mash the clutch down with my foot, stick it in low 1st, and give it the gas gently. we roar out of the garage like maniacs in search of gasoline and destruction on australian plains.

and i dig right in. literally. i get the motherfucker (which i began to call her, as she had "mf" emblazoned right there on her cowling, and considering her beaten and battered and angry demeanor, it somehow seemed appropriate) to the nursery green, dig the teeth in, and bog her right the fuck down, kicking up a rooster tail of sand and digging the four-foot-tall back tires into the ground about 8 inches. i am in hog heaven. grind her into reverse, get her out of the hole, and right back at it.

the last two hours of my day are spent ripping old weeds and dead grass apart.

and a fair chunk of today. ripping apart the ground, then smoothing it back out. digging the mfer into the sand, using and abusing her, all with a smile of the criminally insane plastered across my chevy chase as i sent birds hungry for the unhoused worms scattering with a loud knocking diesel bellow.

then, sadly, it was time to park the mfer again, and recommence with the idiot spoon, the noonday sun bleeding my energy as if someone had set a blood tap right in my neck and set it to wide open.

darth sardonic

vonny grahzny bratchnies

i have been doing terrible at this whole blog thing lately, it appears.

not that there is an overage of new things going on, really. i continue to put my drumset together piece by piece (got my first paycheck yesterday, so that is going to help greatly), eat and drink on the cove, work on my magnum crappus as i have time and energy (basically, nearly never), and in general try to enjoy my free time.

work is still wonderful. well, except the early morning start-time, but then, nothing is perfect right?

no. 1 lost his first tooth. he doesn't like to do anything like other kids, and so in true no. 1 fashion, he lost a tooth on his lower front, instead of the usual upper front tooth that most kids do to start. he was very excited, and the tooth fairy took him to see indiana jones and the kingdom of ridiculously long titles.

now, here is the rub, o my beloved and fair non-existant readers, my droogs and only friends, i am a huge, and i mean huuuuge indiana jones fan. have been since the first time indy dodged a booby trap.

and the new indy movie is pretty good. but i am not sure it fits completely with the rest of the movies.

if nothing else, the opener, compared to the beginnings of the other three (poison, dodging darts, rhino horns, a battle over antidote and diamonds, a giant boulder, whipping oneself in the chin) left alot to be desired. i wasn't roped in like i had been in the past.

still, the kids loved it, it is the first movie we have seen in the theater since the last lord of the rings butt-sleep inducing megamovie, and i still enjoyed the movie, but it was lacking a little something. or is it that i am just older and harder to please?

either way.

darth sardonic

go sell crazy somewhere else, we're all stocked up here...

fire ant bites are fun, i don't care what anyone tells you.

(and how that fuck do those little guys (maybe 2/16ths of an inch long) leave such itchy and aggravating bites? good lord. i believe everything serves a purpose, if nothing else, then food for other things, but not so sure anymore. maybe fire ants are the exception to the rule...)

i spent most of tuesday completely fucking soaking dripping wet. everyone says, "oh, was it that hot?"

no, the sprinklers broke that many times.

on the flip side, i got to spend a few hours hauling ass in the cart and indiana jonesing little pink flags out of the ground by leaning out with one foot on the gas, one foot braced against the floorboards, one arm on the wheel, and the other stretched out to snag the flags as i whizzed past.

still loving the job, overall.

darth sardonic

Fred

Hi, dis is Fred, I live in da pond behind 18 green. Dat's right, I said Fred. What, you think I should be Wally? Huh? Fuckin' smart-alecks. Darth told me you was a bunch a smart-alecks.

Darth has been kind enough to loan me his blog since I didn't attack him da other day when he was workin da Sand Pro. He seems like a decent guy to me. Didn't go crazy or act afraid, but more importantly, didn't try to throw golf balls at my head. Dat other pale bastard with the buzzcut, one a dese days, mark my words... SNAP!

Mostly, my days are spent soaking up da sun, terrorizing da old fuddy duddies, and eating the occasional bird or frog. What? I'm an alligator, it's what I do! You think I am gonna have a salad? Yeh yeh, the birds and frogs are cute, but dere's about a million-and-a-half of 'em all over, and dey tear up the lawn around da course. And da course is my home. You don't mess wid a man's home. Well, a 'gator's home, I mean to say.

One a my favorite things to do is to lay low in da long grass near da pond, watch da old guys dat can't golf hit da balls near me, den see how long it takes 'em to notice me as dey get near. Dey always jump about a mile when dey realize I am sitting dere, real still, a few feet from deir ball, watching dem widout moving. Oh, how dat makes me smile!

Well, I don't wanna take up too much a yer time. Just thought I'd stop in and leave a note to tell you dat I am here, lurking in da grass, just past the back side a da 18 sandtrap.

Darth sure don't capitalize nuthin', does he? Lazy mook. Oh, and he says to say, "Non-existant readers." Whatever dat's supposed to mean.

Darth may be a nice guy, but he sure isn't the smartest one I ever came across. Maybe I will bite his leg next time after all...

Fred

it's all those little things...

yesterday, when the alarm blaringly wrenched me from some wonderful dream in which i was entrenched, the wife rolled over to turn it off, and rolled back over, draping an arm across my chest, and placing a knee across my--errr, ummmm, we'll call it my stomach, yeah?

how much i miss these early morning cuddles we used to have when i was not a working stiff! before the kids were up and in those ten minutes that the snooze button loans us.

i basked in this warm touch for a few minutes before dragging myself free of the twisted covers, and begrudgingly wrapping my wife around my pillow.

this morning, my lunch is made and in the fridge, made in advance for me by my wife while i dozed fitfully on the couch. i wish i could tell her how much that means to me, but don't want to wake her.

then there she is, in a robe, rubbing her eyes.

we exchange morning pleasantries (she is more of a morning person than i), and i tell her "thank you for making me lunch" and she does the cutesie smile face that she does that reminds me of a little school girl who has just been lavished praise by a teacher, and i do something i don't do this early in the morning, o my beloved non-existant readers:

i smile.

darth sardonic

then

happy (belated) mother's day

most of my (non-existant) readership is made up of mothers. not sure why, but sure as shit not complaining either.

in the past, i have waxed lyrical about my own mother, the (hot) mother of my own children, and then mothers in general, but these early-morning posts are turning out to be pisspoor at best, and i am sure i would fuck it up to some extent.

but i do want to take this moment to tell everyone out there who swings by this chafing granule of sand in the shorts of the world wide web "happy mother's day" and i wish you many many more pleasant and happy ones to come.

i am finally waking up enough (and by that i mean in my day-to-day life, not just right now, heh heh) to have the time and energy to wander back by the blogs on my pals list, and i am surprised to see a few don't exist anymore. how saddening. i also haven't forgotten that i have promised to add ms anonymous, i will soon, promise (yet again) and as it turns out, due to some bloggers wandering away from the fold, as it were, i will have the extra space.

also, if you get the chance and are so inclined, check out grof's busty beauties, as he has been working overtime to leave spammy comments all over my blog, and he seems to be an intelligent fella what would never steer us wrong as far as providing information that will broaden our minds and make us better people.

ouch! had my tongue jammed so far into my cheek i accidentally bit myself.

darth sardonic

the story thus far...

i have about 15 or 20 minutes before i head off in the pre-dawn dark to traverse the mighty golf course, and i thought i might attempt to catch you, o beloved non-existant reader, my droogs and only friends, up.

5 am is incredibly early to be up. but my body is already beginning to get used to the new routine.

golf courses are confusing things, and i think i might never quite learn the shortcuts from one hole another, or where they sit in relation to each other.

there is a contraption called the roller, and really, it deserves its own post when i am awake.

i have worked there two days and have already seen two alligators. one of them close enough to snap a picture on my phone, which i almost immediately deleted through heat stroke and light-headedness (read: stupidity).

i have not worked on the magnum crappus (or much of anything else, really) since starting the job, as so far it saps all my surplus energy. (who the fuck am i kidding?!? i never have even sufficient energy, let alone surplus. but in all fairness, this job has boosted my overall energy, it is just that by the time i finally get home, i am wore out. give it a few days till i am used to it.)

i love love love being out in the air and the sun and breeze all day.

is it just me, or when you are tired at the end of a long day, the kids seem to be extra whiney?

oh, and i never managed to finish there will be blood. what is it about the academy and movies with little or no dialogue that take forever to get going and even once they do they meander like sluggish marshy stream and leave you constantly asking, what the hell? i fell asleep. i woke this morning, popped it out of the player, bagged and tagged it, and back off to the rental place.

cause i mean, come fucking on, motherfuckers!

it was kinda like out of africa with oil.

the word you're looking for is: anyways.

darth sardonic