Dead things and gay tourists …got nothing else.

The coroner’s inquest has finally dispensed a verdict in the case of the death of my muse… She bludgeoned herself to death with my writer’s block… I knew I shouldn’t have left it lying around…

What, with all the Blue-Iguana stompings, and gay-tourists being detained by the police for kissing in public around here… One might think I would have ample blog-fodder… One might be wrong…

Anyone who has subjected their self to reading my blog, can attest that whenever there is something of notable debate in the news, whether world or localized… I usually chose to ignore it, and let the real bloggers [like Madbull] handle the dissection…

However, in the interest of actually writing something this month, and as a soi-disant tribute to my above-mentioned dead muse… I am going to go out on the proverbial limb here and state the following:

Iguana killer/s… Killing Blue-Iguanas is not good… They’re endangered… Idiot…

(I have always suspected that it was a ‘disgruntled’ employee from the moment I first heard of the ‘murders’ at the sanctuary… I do watch too much CSI… Apparently they have now arrested someone in conjunction with the slayings of the poor little Iggies… We shall see what happens…)

Police… Go find some real criminals… Detain them instead, and possibly help avoid incidents like the stabbing last Saturday…

Gay American ‘tourists’… If your sole intent is to visit our islands in order to make a spectacle of yourself, spark controversy amongst our already over-burdened little community simply to further your own agenda and get more hits on your website in a misguided opinion that you are championing your brethrens’ cause… Stop… Idiot…

There are three sides to every coin… That means there are three sides to any debate… What one says, what the other says, and the actual truth… There are thousands of gay men and women already living in Cayman, completely integrated into our society for as long as we’ve been able to call ourselves ’social.’ I personally know at least 10 homosexual people well, and I probably know 15 more whom have chosen to leave me unaware of their sexual preference for whatever reasons they may have. The Cayman Islands is constantly progressing towards greater tolerance of what has previously been thought of as ‘abnormal’ behaviors, both on an individual, and governmental level, and although the very word ‘tolerance’ may be deemed offensive, it is the truth. In the very same manner that homosexual people feel that their sexual preference is perfectly natural and normal… Heterosexual people also feel that their sexual preference is perfectly natural and normal. The same way gay people tolerate ‘breeders,’ is the same way straight people tolerate ‘gays.’ So is it more noble to look upon a straight couple with disdain, label them ‘breeders’, all whilst parading your sexuality in front of them with no care as to their feelings?
There is a distinct line where an innocent, tasteful public display of affection, flops over to a lewd public-act insensitive to the feelings of other people around you… Believe me, I’ve crossed that line many times while under the influence of much alcohol and an overly-amorous woman… But I’ve had to hold myself accountable to the consequences of those indiscretions. No decent, respectable Caymanian wants to see two adults generously swapping bodily fluids next to them when they are engaged in conversation with friends, or trying to order their kids’ chicken fingers & fries… We want to see that in the privacy of our homes, on pirated satellite TV, with our better-half, a bottle of wine, a tube of KY Jelly and a suitably sized cock-ring…
On a governmental level, an agenda can be furthered and even eventually accepted by use of ‘bullying-tactics’… Groups of like-minded individuals can lobby, or demonstrate their cause to their government, and if they duck enough bullets, and lay under enough tanks, eventually the government will be forced to accept them… Or bring in more tanks…
Conversely… You cannot force individuals to accept you for who you are, trying to do so is simply counter-productive… The intelligent gay community in Cayman must understand that logic, and that is why they have stayed here, you cannot please everyone all of the time… So if you flaunt your personality in front of a hundred people concurrently… Then it is logical to assume a greater probability that a few of them will not like it, and will most likely express that to you in whatever manner they deem customary.
However, many people have been won over to a particular way of thinking, when approached by a rational, respectable person… Don’t believe me… A woman and a black man are running for president.

In closing… I did not witness the above alleged-transgression of the American Gayurist… However I did bear a little too much witness to the very first cruise-ship which dumped 400+ homosexual holidaymakers on our shores in the 1980’s, and while I can say that the majority were respectful of our outwardly conservative community… I did personally witness small groups of men pulling down each others’ speedos, engaged in extended making-out sessions, and dry-humping [at least I hope it was dry] right amidst familys on the beach in the middle of the day… Personally, I didn’t give much of a shit, my neck was young and supple, and I had the option to look away, which I could exercise whether they were gay, straight or other-wisely inclined …but I didn’t care much for those individuals’ indifference towards the other people on the beach, it was no different from kicking sand on their pick-en-ick basket while playing paddle-ball, and not apologising.
“When you’re in public, how you behave will decide how people treat you”… I’m just regurgitating what my mom told me when I was a kid, I knew it better as “what you give, is what you get, don’t you know your manners yet?”… Hey, I’m not saying I listened…

Some Monkey business

Recently I have found myself in the midst of palaver involved with starting your own company here, even with my attorney handling most of the work, I’ve still been inundated with ‘leg-work’ of my own, licenses, leases, uniforms, banking etc… Hopefully by the middle of next week, the ruckus will die-down a bit…

Rewinding DVD’s at the local porn-store…

Two weeks ago I write something about Charlton Heston… Then I see on the TV in the bar one night this week, that he died… Sussspiiiiiciousssss! Oh well, rest in peace Mr. Heston, though I could never agree with the single-minded zeal with which you touted the NRA’s rhetoric, I did enjoy watching the Omega Man whilst under the influence of many …many Vodkas.

Moving on… Friday-gone, I drank too much, went home and missed the best part of the night …or so I’m told.

Saturday I rose just in time to get an eye-full of the Early-bird’s ass as he flew off to work. I had been volunteered by my sister, to do the majority of the cooking at a brunch for our Dad’s birthday. It all went well, as far as large gatherings of family go, and after I had finished the last of about 16 omelettes, I was ready for a beer and a smoke. No-one got even the faintest inkling of an upset stomach… So I was happy.

Later in the day, I built this for a friend, James, who works with Wayne:

It’s a drafting table I cobbled-together out of an old printer stand, a door, some scrap ply-wood, and a sheet of white Formica. Turned out pretty damn good in my never-humble opinion… Wayne liked it… In fact, he liked it so much, he took it to use in his office instead… Guess I’ll have to make another one.

Sunday was a day of veg. So I veg’d all day at Wayne’s apartment, watching absolute crap on TV… Except for “American Gangster”, that was pretty good, so we did a bunch of ‘research’ on the World Wide Infoweb, and came to the conclusion that Denzel’s character, Frank Lucas is living here in the Cayman Islands, and we might have had a drink with him last week without knowing who the hell he was…

This week I’ve been doing my regular work, plus helping James out with his plumbing business, and putting together some necessary paperwork for starting up a company with Cuñado [Chiquita's sister's husband.] I also had an appointment with my dental hygienist for a cleaning, licensed the car, assembled a bench for my Mom, cleaned all my fishtanks, solved the meaning of life, and did a pile of other odd-jobs I’ve been meaning to do.
You may be wondering how I have so much time on my hands? Well, yes, I’ve been residing in the dog-house for some considerable time now. Nearly two weeks… I had a discussion with Chiquita that began with me voicing my frustration at constantly being accused of cheating on her, regularly being provoked into arguments, usually being physically attacked, and consequently being bad-mouthed to all her “friends”… During that particular discussion, she accused me of cheating on her, provoked me into an argument, tried to physically attack me, and then bad-mouthed me to all her friends… I gave up, went out for a drink and haven’t spoken to her since.

So my back has been kind of hurting lately, and I would really like to go see my masseuse. Unfortunately for me, the day I felt I could put-it-off no longer… I grew a huge pulsating back-zit…
Now, I never read the book of etiquette on going to a masseuse to get a back-rub, but I’m quite sure that “waiting until your back is zit-free” might be somewhere in chapter one… So I shall have to wait a few more days.

Today I feel about as useful as a Seeing-eye-dog with cataracts. I was supposed to be doing some important stuff from early this morning, but instead, I’ve been sat here in front of my little, old laptop, hunting-and-pecking away at this post. So I’m done for now, hope everyone else is doing fine… Give my love to the wife & kids.

THIS IS A TEST

This is only a test …had it been an actual post, it would have been only slightly less colorful, and entertaining…

What can I say folks… I’ve been a bit busy with non-blog-related avocations of late…

We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

The Weekend Update, live on pirated DVD…

Friday was a bit of a downer… Which I suppose is in keeping with tradition of the day… Since nothing but the Gas Stations and Coffee Shops are open here on a Good Friday, one can either; hang out at home eating fish-sticks and watching “Charlton Heston in a loincloth” movies on TV, meet up with a group of your friends at the local Texaco to down Day-Glo slurpees and greasy deep-fried foodstuffs, or wrestle medical students for a piece of real estate on an overstuffed love-seats, to sip your latte at the nearest cafe…

I however, chose life… I got all showered up, slathered on my strongest antiperspirant/deodorant and headed over to my favorite tattoo artist’s shop… He’s Jewish, so he was open for business… I already had a spot booked from two weeks ago, and when I got there he was just finishing up with another customer. Then he spoke those words to me, those words that every tattoo collector hates to hear… “I’m really tired bro, do you mind if we postpone your session?”

It happens, so what do you say? Tattooing is intensive work, hunched over for hours at a time, concentrating intently on getting every line perfect… ’cause there’s no erasing and do-overs in tattoos… The last thing you want is to risk permanent disfigurement by having your tattoo-guy fall asleep mid stroke… Anyway, I got a new appointment for 2:15 pm today, so it’s not all bad…

Then on Saturday, one of the damn gerbils pulled a Houdini, and went AWOL… All the evidence points towards it being a collaborative effort, as in some standing on shoulders [if gerbils have shoulders] involved in the escape… What is her problem? I treat them like queens, only the best food, bottled water, and I have them housed in a veritable palace… How do I know? It was written on the damn box, “Gerbil Palace…” I could hear her scratching all week-end, but for the life of me I can’t figure out where she is, I’m going to make a concerted effort to locate her after work today.

Sunday was a day of maximum vegetation… I didn’t get off the couch… Serious, I even used a bed-pan…

Monday I joined some friends on their boat to go and watch the Million Dollar Run powerboat race… The weather wasn’t very good [*read - COLD and dark], but since there was much booze on-board, we had fun nevertheless… The race was kind of confusing though, apparently they were running a circuit race, and a poker run simultaneously, and a few of the boats seemed to experience technical difficulties. I’m still not sure who won…

This is not my beautiful doghouse…

Holy Snausages (R)! It’s been a week since my last post …bad blogger! …no biscuit!

Things are slow, what can I say? Jumping off the back of a series of crushing defeats over the last few weeks [our 'Filipino connection', Jasper was on vacation], or darts team won 8-1 last night. We played against “Wednesday’s excuse”, and as the name may suggest, they are a bunch of nice guys who use darts as a reason to get away from the wives and kids for an evening of scarfing nachos, buffalo-wings, and copious amounts of beer …with the occasional dart game thrown in to lend credibility.

We played at “The Doghouse”, which is the former Davie Jones Locker… I’m not sure exactly why, but I like the new name even better…

Their lady player was on vacation, so Chiquita won all her games by forfeit, so by the time we won the first two actual games, we had technically won the match… But we played it out anyway, so people could pick up individual points for the overall tournament… We’re sweet like that…

More ink.

Ben at Island Ink continued inking my left half-sleeve tattoo Tuesday afternoon, as can be seen by clicking the 2 thumbnails above.
I already have 3 small tattoos by him on various parts of my body that he did during the years I have known him. He is a very competent tattoo artist, and the ‘lightest touch’ [*read - least painful] I have ever encountered. I recommend him to anyone who is getting tattooed for the first time.

Please excuse the shoddy photography… It is very difficult to take pictures of your own arm & back …with your cellphone …in a small bathroom …because after the 2005 incident no-one at work will go into a small bathroom with you…

The next most smartest supermodel?

Whenever anyone within a 20 foot radius of Lil’ Trouble takes out their camera… Or more specifically, cellphone with attached camera… He makes it his immediate mission in life to get directly in front of it, in order to have his picture taken… This happens no matter the reason you took out said cellphone in the first place [I was getting a text at the time I took this picture.]

He will ‘pose’ in front of you until you stop what you were originally doing and take a picture of him …and you have to show it to him as proof.
I don’t know who he gets his photogenmania [yeah, I made up that word] from, but it isn’t me… I’m one of those people who believes that the camera will steal your soul… That being said though, as of my next post there’s going to be a few pictures of me [or parts of me] on my front page, so call me a liar why don’t you?

By the way, his shirt bears the apt slogan, “Future Heart-breaker”…

As part of my punishment for some of the bad things I’ve done in my life, I am almost certain he will choose to pursue a career in modeling…

Daddy-bloggin’ quota filled

Image sent to my phone by an anonymous bluetooth addict on Saturday at my kids’ basketball games.

I had a relaxing weekend doing daddy-type stuff, culminating in a trip up to Rum-point on Sunday.

Summary of events:

Saturday:
Middle Trouble’s team lost badly… Again… Despite his best efforts [...he carries the team... and they're heavy...] but he deals with it well, and it’s “character-building…”

Oldest Trouble’s team tied… For the first time ever [...they always win... All the kids are 6-foot+... except mine, he's 4-foot-nothing and hardly gets the ball...] but he deals with it well, and it’s “character building…”

We adopted two Gerbils… I have dust-busted 168,234 Southern pine and Aspen wood-chips off the floor and assorted pieces of furniture so-far, and can now look forward to 2-3 years of similar…

Little Trouble bit Oldest Trouble on his stomach and drew blood… It was not in anger.

Older Trouble had words with me about my smoking.

Little Trouble hit Oldest Trouble in the fore-head with a small pot… Frozen Okra was applied… We were out of peas…

Sunday:
Treated 3 cases of juvenile hypothermia… Despite the near-freezing conditions due to a recent cold-front, the kids spent generous amounts of time in the water, resulting in purple fingered, blue-lipped adolescents begging me to buy them a strawberry-Daiquirí…

Little Trouble picked up someone’s half empty cup at Rum-point and drank most of it before I could grab him… I’m not sure what it was, but he did sleep soundly last night…

Geek-bloggin’ quota filled

I received a gift from Mt. Olympus at work on Friday afternoon… For my visually impaired readers who have difficulty seeing the picture above… It’s a brand spanking new wide-screen for my main CPU… 1680 x 1050 pixels of native resolution… Hell, I got so many pixels now I could give away a few hundred pixels and still have a whole pile of pixels left over to do whatever I want with… I could have a pixel-garage sale…

…I had to download a driver upgrade just to be able to use all the pixels…

The best part is that now I can look at my screen with both eyes open… [How do the kids say it these days?] …Woot?