Tuesday, July 14, 2009

this is a true story...

i promised something happier and with laughs, and i am about to deliver in spades.

but the details of this story are so outrageous that you, the beloved non-existent readers, will be tempted to say, "bullshit!" or "bollocks!" if you're from across the pond.

as would i, if it hadn't actually happened to me.

but let me assure you again, the details of this particular blog are true, actually happened, and i am even attempting to turn off my usual knack for exaggeration to bring it to you, my droogs and only friends, as uncluttered as i possibly can.

my wife was off work today, and the weather was nice, so we decided to go as a family to the beach.

we wanted to get there early, beat out the crowds and the unnatural florida heat, so we left the house tennish and headed over.

we spent some time waist-deep in the waves, enjoying the sheer emptiness of the beach.

we spotted the occasional dolphin snacking on fish about a quarter-mile off, popping in and out of the waves, and i was half-tempted to try and swim out there so i could honestly say i had swum with dolphins in the wild without it being a huge over exaggeration, but i was a little tired and not sure how dolphins feel about being interrupted whilst they dine.

seemed to me this would be the pinnacle of my day, easy. sharing the same site-distance ocean space with a small group of hungry dolphins. yeah, not quite.

then we went on a walk to collect some nice seashells. looking for unique ones, while the kids insisted on filling the bucket with the generic, run-of-the-mill white clam shells. i take my seashelling very seriously. i look for those really cool shells that would look amazing in our collection.

i see something dark and of odd shape that attracts me instantly.

as i get closer i let out an involuntary shout of excitement.

but i am pretty sure it is already dead.

then as i get closer, it jerks and tries to get away.

"hey come here check this out come here come here!!" i call excitedly to my family.

but the poor little fella is knackered, and the waves catch him and wash him back and forth and he is at their mercy, so my wife catches him back up, and we go back to my original idea that he must be dead.

until he tries to swim out of her hand.

now we are carrying him rapidly back to our sandcastle stuff and blankets. my wife fills a small bucket with water and goes to call someone she works with who is one of the wildlife people at the cape.

when she comes back, the boys and her and i sit around watching the little baby turtle float leisurely in the bucket, occasionally swimming some to get some air. over time, he perks up quite a bit, and by the time linda, another wildlife lady, shows up, he seems pretty pleased with his existence.

she assures us that one of two things will happen, if he is unable, for whatever reason, to return to the ocean, then sea world will take him. otherwise, they will bring him back at 6 am when the predators are all asleep and let him swim out to sea.

if i hadn't happened along when i did, he would've been a meal for something. or if we had just assumed that since he was in the ocean he was fine; ditto.

so today, i saved a life. and i am pretty proud. but credit where credit is due: if my wife hadn't known some numbers to call, and if i wasn't ably assisted by my two ignatz, things might've also turned out differently.

whatever the case may be, best of luck to baby turtle turkelson (i didn't name him, the chitlins did, lol).

darth sardonic

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Wednesday, July 08, 2009

You just keep me hanging on...

there are moments, o my beloveds, my tried and trues, my droogs and only friends, o thou faithful who keep stumbling back to this sodden, neglected little spitwad on the world wide web; when the wife is in l.a. for work, and the content of gin and dry vermouth in my blood is overshadowed by the ability of the extra cocktail onion to absorb it; when mark renton is dying on the screen to the dulcet strains of the velvet underground's "perfect day"; there are moments, o my beloved non-existent readers, when i aproximate what might be a rock bottom, and the tears swell, and in this moment of anguish and emptiness i free myself from the shackles of the cares of the day, and i put myself in god's hands, and my eyes open up like broken faucets and all the demons poor out of me like a wash of the soul in a backyard tub, and i am pinned to a line to dry in the sun.

i wish only the best and most beautiful for all of you out there.

oh, and better news and laughter tomorrow, my friends, si o si, come hell or high water.

darth sardonic

* the doorbell rings.

"shit, fuck." i curse, palming the tears out of my sockets with the heels of my hands, encouraging my face into a facsimile of something that belies a bawling, woe-is-me session seated lonely in front of the computer.

i believe in god, o my beloved non-existents. cause at 9 o'clock at night on a wednesday, in the dark, there on my porch, are some friends i haven't talked to nearly all summer.

and cause god knows i am a stupid cunt, and won't reach a hand out to pull myself out of my funk.

so he drops the perfect distraction on me at the very fucking
instant i needed it. and now, instead of trainspotting, i find myself watching fanboys and every trace of that "rock bottom" i was empathetically touching a moment ago is all gone, and renton has gone off to die on someone else's tv for the evening, and i can honestly text back to my wonderful wife:

"yeah baby i am ok actually"

and you were here with me the whole time.

thanks*


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Wednesday, July 01, 2009

this in place of a scathing rant...

man i was hot as the surface of the sun after words were exchanged with a (stupid fucking cunt who has never had a hard day in her life) fellow classmate this afternoon.

but instead of the usual awful (full of foul language) diatribe, i offer only this instead:

you know what is wrong with this country (the united states of america)? liberals who think that conservatives are what's wrong with this country, and conservatives who think liberals are what's wrong with this country. e pluribus fucking unum, for the love of christ!

and in closing i will say this: the next person that tells me to fucking move out of the country where i was born; the country i served for 8 years and that my wife is still serving and that friends of mine have fucking died to serve; the country i would still die for today; my fucking country; the next person that tells me to move out of that country because my opinions don't match theirs is getting a faceful of fist in short order.

thanks for playing along.

darth sardonic

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