Mitt Winstead, Author

Smile, it becomes you

2012-01-27T07:33:00.000-07:00

“If you yelled for 8 years, 7 months and 6 days you would have produced enough sound energy to heat one cup of coffee.
(Hardly seems worth it.)

If you farted consistently for 6 years and 9 months, enough gas is produced to create the energy of an atomic bomb.
(Now that's more like it!)

The human heart creates enough pressure when it pumps out to the body to squirt blood 30 feet.
(O.M.G.!)

A pig's orgasm lasts 30 minutes.
(O.M.G.!!!)

A cockroach will live nine days without its head before it starves to death. (Creepy)
(I'm still not over the pig.)

Banging your head against a wall uses 150 calories an hour.
(Don't try this at home; maybe at work.)

The male praying mantis cannot copulate while its head is attached to its body. The female initiates sex by ripping the male's head off.
(Honey, I'm home . WTF...?)

The flea can jump 350 times its body length. It's like a human jumping the length of a football field.
(30 minutes. Lucky pig! Can you imagine?)

The catfish has over 27,000 taste buds.
(What could be so tasty on the bottom of a pond?)

Some lions mate over 50 times a day.
(I still can't believe that pig ...quality over quantity.)

Butterflies taste with their feet.
(Something I always wanted to know.)

The strongest muscle in the body is the tongue.
(Hmmmmmm.......)

Right-handed people live, on average, nine years longer than left-handed people.
(If you're ambidextrous, do you split the difference?)

Elephants are the only animals that cannot jump.
(Okay, so that would be a good thing.)

A cat's urine glows under a black light.
(I wonder how much the government paid to figure that out.)

An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain.
(I know some people like that.)

Starfish have no brains.
(I know some people like that, too.)

Polar bears are left-handed.
(If they switch, they'll live a lot longer.)

Humans and dolphins are the only species that have sex for pleasure.
(What about that pig? Do the dolphins know about the pig? God I love that pig!)”

Write on,

Mittster

Hanoi Jane

2012-01-26T05:06:00.000-07:00

The story of Hanoi Jane Fonda is not new, but seems to be forgoten. The following piece was written and posted on the Internet. I felt obliged to make it a blog. It is not proofed or edited because the words as stated are fact and need no explaination. Click on the title of this blog to see the truth about Hanoi Jane. Mittster

Regardless of this woman's acting prowess (or family line) - she really is caustic.. PEOPLE GOTTA KNOW......................

I am sending this one out because so many do not know this truth...
and also because she was on TV 3 times this week talking about her new book...and how good she feels in her 70's. She still does not know what she did wrong. Her book just may not make the best list if more people knew....
also, Barbara Walters said: "Thank you all. Many died in Vietnam for our freedoms. I did not like Jane Fonda then and I don't like her now.
She can lead her present life the way she wants and perhaps SHE can forget the past, but we DO NOT have to stand by without comment and see her "honored" as a "Woman of the Century."
(I remember this well)
For those who served and/or died. . .
NEVER FORGIVE A TRAITOR. SHE REALLY WAS A TRAITOR!!
and now President OBAMA wants to honor her!!!!"

In Memory of LT. C.Thomsen Wieland who spent 100 days at the Hanoi Hilton [Famous North Vietnam Prison]
IF YOU NEVER FORWARDED ANYTHING IN YOUR LIFE FORWARD THIS SO THAT EVERYONE WILL KNOW!!!!!!
A TRAITOR IS ABOUT TO BE HONORED.
KEEP THIS MOVING ACROSS AMERICA
This is for all the kids born in the 70's and after who do not remember, and didn't have to bear the burden that our fathers, mothers and older brothers and sisters had to bear.
Jane Fonda is being honored as one of the '100 Women of the Century.'

BARBRA WALTERS WRITES:
Unfortunately, many have forgotten and still countless others have never known how Ms. Fonda betrayed not only the idea of our country, but specific men who served and sacrificed during the Vietnam War.
The first part of this is from an F-4E pilot.
The pilot's name is Jerry Driscoll, a River Rat.
In 1968, the former Commandant of the USAF Survival School was a POW in Ho Lo Prison the ' Hanoi Hilton.'
Dragged from a stinking cesspit of a cell, cleaned, fed, and dressed in clean PJ's, he was ordered to describe for a visiting American 'Peace Activist' the 'lenient and humane treatment' he'd received.
He spat at Ms. Fonda, was clubbed, and was dragged away. During the subsequent beating, he fell forward on to the camp Commandant 's feet, which sent that officer berserk.
In 1978, the Air Force Colonel still suffered from double vision (which permanently ended his flying career) from the Commandant's frenzied application of a wooden baton.

From 1963-65, Col. Larry Carrigan was in the 47FW/DO (F-4E's). He spent 6 years in the ' Hanoi Hilton'...the first three of which his family only knew he was 'missing in action'. His wife lived on faith that he was still alive. His group, too, got the cleaned-up, fed and clothed routine in preparation for a 'peace delegation' visit.
They, however, had time and devised a plan to get word to the world that they were alive and still survived. Each man secreted a tiny piece of paper, with his Social Security Number on it, in the palm of his hand. When paraded before Ms. Fonda and a cameraman, she walked the line, shaking each man's hand and asking little encouraging snippets like: 'Aren't you sorry you bombed babies?' and 'Are you grateful for the humane treatment from your benevolent captors?' Believing this HAD to be an act, they each palmed her their sliver of paper.
She took them all without missing a beat.. At the end of the line and once the camera stopped rolling, to the shocked disbelief of the POWs, she turned to the officer in charge and handed him all the little pieces of paper...

Three men died from the subsequent beatings. Colonel Carrigan was almost number four but he survived, which is the only reason we know of her actions that day.

I was a civilian economic development advisor in Vietnam , and was captured by the North Vietnamese communists in South Vietnam in 1968, and held prisoner for over 5 years.
I spent 27 months in solitary confinement; one year in a cage in Cambodia ; and one year in a 'black box' in Hanoi . My North Vietnamese captors deliberately poisoned and murdered a female missionary, a nurse in a leprosarium in Banme Thuot , South Vietnam , whom I buried in the jungle near the Cambodian border. At one time, I weighed only about 90 lbs. (My normal weight is 170 lbs)
We were Jane Fonda's 'war criminals....'
When Jane Fonda was in Hanoi , I was asked by the camp communist political officer if I would be willing to meet with her. I said yes, for I wanted to tell her about the real treatment we POWs received... and how different it was from the treatment purported by the North Vietnamese, and parroted by her as 'humane and lenient.'
Because of this, I spent three days on a rocky floor on my knees, with my arms outstretched with a large steel weight placed on my hands, and beaten with a bamboo cane.
I had the opportunity to meet with Jane Fonda soon after I was released. I asked her if she would be willing to debate me on TV. She never did answer me.

These first-hand experiences do not exemplify someone who should be honored as part of '100 Years of Great Women.' Lest we forget....' 100 Years of Great Women' should never include a traitor whose hands are covered with the blood of so many patriots.

There are few things I have strong visceral reactions to, but Hanoi Jane's participation in blatant treason, is one of them. Please take the time to forward to as many people as you possibly can.. It will eventually end up on her computer and she needs to know that we will never forget.
RONALD D. SAMPSON, CMSgt,
USAF 716 Maintenance Squadron,
Chief of Maintenance DSN: 875-6431 COMM: 883-6343

Old is Gold

2012-01-25T06:36:00.000-07:00

I am sick and tired of old people jokes. I happen to be 69 years old and this is my best year yet. Besides, I can't go back and if I could, I would just screw up at a different level.

Here is the real deal. When you reach my age you can do pretty much as you please. I don't worry about my hair or lack of. I don't worry about looks (if you don't like what you see – don’t look. It won’t hurt either of our feelings.) I can actually gaze at young women because I have learned not to gawk and I appreciate beauty without it being dirty. You won’t find me with a woman 30 years my junior because I have too much respect for women. Besides, who wants to go out with their grandfather? Everyone would be embarrassed!

The best thing I ever did was quit drinking. Those days were filled with me thinking women adored drunk guys and wanted us to jump their bones while reeking of booze and not able to find anyone's ass with both hands. Reality dictated that the women would leave in disgust and I would wake up retching in the golden throne promising never to do it again.

Man slut

I believe there is some truth in the saying that getting older is like the aging process of fine wine. The whole process is based on how you store the bottle. It’s the same with humans – if you don’t take care of the container, what is inside turns to vinegar. That’s why some older folks you meet are sour, resentful and spiteful. They are miserable and want everyone around them to be the same. I, for one, refuse to go there. Maybe that is why I still ride Harleys and smile a lot. I want people to be happy and appreciate the things they do have instead of always wishing for the things they think they need and don’t have. Once you learn to be happy with what you have and who you are, the other things don’t seem as important anymore.

I don’t know how many years I have left on this beautiful blue planet, but I do know each and every minute will be enjoyed. For those who think old people suck…go suck an egg. I want to hang out with people who are alive, happy with their lives, love animals, and are willing to help others in times of need.

“I don’t need no stinking sourpusses!”

I’m just saying,

Mittster

"I will fight no more forever."

2012-01-24T05:02:00.000-07:00

Chief Joseph

You might ask why the Mittster is going off on a tirade about Indian treaties and wars. Actually I am not; the tirade is going to be about our Republican Party and how the whole sorted mess makes me think that I am not going to fight about who should be running against President Obama no more forever. In fact, I want to go live on a reservation somewhere that is lacking in electricity, radio, television or any manner of communications.

President Obama is watching this fiasco with a grin ear to ear while counting the money he will not have to spend getting reelected. The Republican Party has already reelected the current President hands down. It’s just a matter of the Democrats waiting out the rest of the Republican Party comedy act until the November general elections.

I hate writing blogs about politics, but how can I not say something about the cartoon characters debating each other on national television while each and every time proving we don’t have anyone worth electing to the town council of Po Dunk, Idaho, let alone to the Presidency of the United States of America.

President Barack Obama

While I have been a lifetime Republican, I cannot help but marvel at the professionalism of President Barack Obama. Everything he does and says speaks presidential. I may not like his politics, but I like the man. Let’s face it, he projects the kind of professionalism needed to gain the respect of world leaders who look to us for leadership. For those leaders who do not look to us for anything but grief, Donald Trump could be president and they wouldn’t care. Speaking of "The Donald," I truly think he is a worthy Republican opponent compared to the current field of want-to-be presidents. If you are going to act cartoonish, at least look the part.

Donald Trump

Just for giggles (because I don’t want to cry), I here and now throw in Clint Eastwood’s name as a write-in Republican candidate.

Clint Eastwood

He looks presidential, has some political experience, and is tough as nails. If I could do just half of what he accomplishes daily at his age, I would be more than satisfied. One thing is for sure, if any of the other candidates give him any crap at the next debate, he would look down at them and say, “Make my day!” Glory be – that would be a sight to behold.

I’m just saying,

Mittster

I Crush You Flo

2012-01-23T04:53:00.000-07:00

Ok, I admit it – I have a crush on the Progressive Insurance lady Flo. This is not easy to admit when you are a married man, but admit it I must. Wifey already suspects something is going on because of my incessant request for a Flo Bobblehead doll

and I turn up the volume on the TV whenever her commercials come on. I especially like the commercials when she is riding Harleys. Man, she can ride with me anytime. She would have to wear the same clothes as in the commercials though, that’s part of the deal. What can I say…I am kind of kinky?

I know if my wife catches me dressing up our Chiuhuahua it will be all over but the crying, but I just can't help myself!

I even drempt that she was a vampire trying to suck my blood. Holy Anne Rice, that was a scary dream. I'm thinking it would almost be worth it as long as she made me one of them and I could hang out with her forever.

I remember when Flo pulled the plug on Flo-bot. I was just wondering if the broken robot was for sale or something. You know, it would be great to have as a memento or something. Not like a London Love Doll, but something?

I did find a picture of Flo out of uniform. I'm sorry, Flo, but it just isn't the same. I have a crush on the Progressive Flo, not the real Flo. Parting in such sweat sorrow....

I'm just saying,

Mittster

WHY HARLEY-DAVIDSON?

2012-01-22T07:14:00.000-07:00

My tribute to Sturgis and Harley-Davidson

WHY HARLEY-DAVIDSON?

Native Americans call it “The Iron Pony,” a description well put. When you straddle the leather seat, there is a feeling not unlike when a cowboy mounts a bucking bronco at a rodeo. You know something awesome is about to happen, but you’re not quite sure what.

Starting a hog for the first time is part of a love affair that will last forever. When that “Twin V” engine comes to life between your legs, you will have an idea of how that bronco rider must feel.

Nothing on the planet sounds like a Harley. At an idle, it has a low chugging beat, slow and strong like a rhinoceros just before the charge. The weight and massiveness of the machine is deceptive, even a little intimidating. Your first thought is that if this bike falls, it’s all over but the crying. Oh, well, either ride it or sell it! Once you let the clutch out and start to move, magic happens. The ponderous, chrome hog becomes a graceful lady, responsive to your every touch. Each gear is a different dimension to her character. Every mile per hour faster is a study in stability.

You look at your companion riders in front, on the side and behind. A knowing smile spreads quickly. You are part of an American legend. Ride your “Iron Pony” into the sunset. A great adventure waits!

Mitt Winstead 1996

Write on,

Mittster

More Looney Tunes

2012-01-21T07:59:00.000-07:00

Save these for Monday morning - you will need the laughs.

I remember drinking beer through a staw...OK, I don't remember - someone had to tell me the next day.

No comment!

Not necessarily in that order!

This sign is not far from the nation's capitol

This sign is also not far from the nation's capitol

This sign is not far from the next presidential debate

No need to comment

Sage advice

I'm going to use this ploy to sell books

That be me

He looks familiar - I think he used to be my proctologist

Have a great Saturday - I'm going to jump off a bridge now!

Write on,

Mittster

Fee-fi-fo-fum

2012-01-20T06:58:00.000-07:00

“Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman!” Holy crap, no wonder I was traumatized as a youngster. The bedtime stories read to me by Grandma would scare the devil himself. I would never sleep with my hands or feet hanging over the bed to become food for the monster living underneath. As a matter of fact – I still won’t sleep with any part of my body hanging over the bed.

What about Little Red Riding Hood? The big, nasty bad wolf eats Grandma, then gets in her clothes, jumps in bed and waits for Little Red Riding Hood to show up with a food basket so she too can become a gourmet dinner. This story surely made young girls feel warm and fuzzy.

Let’s not forget Hansel and Gretel. This little ditty has a wicked witch enticing a young girl and boy into a gingerbread house so she can pop them into a boiling pot of water for a tasty human stew. Swell, now we are into cannibalism. I know I wouldn’t eat gingerbread for many years after this story.

Oh, yes, and The Three Little Pigs come to mind. To this day I am not comfortable in any house unless it is made of brick. No way am I becoming pig meat to a gnarly wolf!

Little Miss Muffet, sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey;
Along came a spider, who sat down beside her
And frightened Miss Muffet away.
Is it any wonder spiders scare the crap out of us?

Alice in Wonderland, now this is a wonderful book Mum used to read to us when we were little tykes. The only problem was that it reminded me of our house and life. All the characters Alice met resembled aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews and neighbors who visited us. What a nutty family. I bet they too were read fairy tales when they were young.

Last, but not least are the ghost stories our parents used to tell us on Halloween. The one I will never forget not only scarred me emotionally, but physically too. As Mom came to the end of the very scary story, she swung her arms and hands out and down as she screamed, thus scaring the crap out of us and hitting me in the family jewels all in one fell swoop. Not hard to imagine my shriek of horror and pain. While my two brothers and sisters thought it hilarious, I found the vomiting disgusting and demeaning.

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Free Book Writing Course

2012-01-19T05:26:00.005-07:00

D. There are no conventional publishers that will take on your book. This is also true, but you can sell gold jewelry and hire a POD (Publish on Demand) publisher.

E. If you are passionate about your desire to write a book, the book will magically appear on Amazon.com. This is false, but if you work half as hard writing your book as you did trying to figuring out reasons why you can't write, it will appear on Amazon.com and your pride level will top out in the stratosphere.

F. Your book idea will be so good that other people will promote it. False again; you will be promoting your books until you leave the planet. Writing and promoting are your job, but not to worry, both are fun, especially when you sign your first book for your first customer!

Evil in the Mirror

G. How do you actually start writing a book? It's easy; write one word, then two, then a sentence. Sit back and read your first sentence. Write other sentences until you have a paragraph. Sit back and read your first paragraph. Keep writing until you have a chapter. Once you have a chapter, sit back and read it. If it excites you no end, keep writing. If you fall asleep, it's all over but the crying. You have just discovered you have no passion and you need to try finger painting. Don't be too worried about mistakes. Proofing and editing can be done by others. If you have no friends to help with fine tuning your book, sell some more gold jewelry. You’re going to need the money.

H. There is no way I can figure out how to copyright my book and all the other stuff I see in the pages of other books. Again, not to worry...the POD publisher will handle all the technical stuff. Great, one less reason for you to procrastinate.

I. When you run out of gold jewelry to sell, there is always your first born. Never give up or give in…there are worse ways not to earn a living.

Write on,

Mittster

The Eyes Have It

2012-01-18T06:37:00.004-07:00

After writing my first novel, I started using the Internet to promote my book, while writing like a mad hatter to finish the sequel. I became involved with a Web site, Twitter and Facebook. I also starting having book signings anywhere I was welcome and a few places I wasn’t. I would even ask people in stores if they liked murder mysteries. If they did, I was on them like a cheap TV commercial. Much to my surprise, I even sold books at yard sales.

After three years of meeting other newbie authors in person and on the Web, I have come to the realization that we all have three things in common. The first and most important is passion. In my lifetime I have not met a more passionate group of people. It’s palatable in nature and almost like you could cut the passion with a knife. Each and every one of us could talk for hours about our work – not in an egotistical way, but in a passionate way. We absolutely love what we do!

The second is the look in our eyes. I have looked in the eyes of many authors and the result is always the same. There is a fire behind those eyes and they burn bright with intelligence, eagerness, awareness and (of course) passion. Sometimes it can be a little disconcerting because it’s like looking into a mirror and I wonder if my eyes look so intense. I have never been able to see in my eyes what I see in others, but friends have assured me that I have “the look.”

The third thing is universal craziness. Yes, we all must surely be nuts and close to certifiable. Any person who spends every waking moment of every day writing, promoting, facing rejection and ridicule along with praise from some and a stoning from others, must be crazy. With every positive come just as many negatives. Selling your books is like selling vacuum cleaners door to door. We know our work is very good because we put years into writing and promoting it, but that is never enough to become a “best seller.” Frustration is the mother of insanity and sometimes it’s enough to put us in a padded cell.

My hat is off to the hundreds of newbie writers who have the passion and internal fortitude to attempt to write a novel. The journey is fraught with danger, disappointment and rejection; but at the same time, it can be overwhelming with the pride of accomplishment that you have done something not many ever do in their lifetimes. You wrote and published a novel. It is even more exciting if you have written more than one.

What keeps me from the padded cell? I refuse to succumb until I finish my third novel. I keep procrastinating because once it is finished; my wife will surely have me locked away in the loony bin.

I’m just saying,

Mittster

It's All In My Head

2012-01-17T06:33:00.000-07:00

Consider fifty years of construction, starting with being an apprentice for four years while going to night school after working all day; then on to being a project manager for millions of dollars worth of new schools to cap a career. This and all the learning in between stored in a brain that still works well, but the brain case grows old and is beginning to wear out.

Over the years, I have wondered why learn at all? When we die it is lost and no one benefits. All the learning is wasted. When you are gone there is no one to teach what has been learned. The thought depressed me a little and I began trying to figure out how to leave something behind that could benefit young people as they began their careers.

My first thought was to write a book about construction. I started it many times, but the content put me to sleep. Eventually I started writing murder mysteries that basically have no social redeeming value (except maybe – don’t get murdered).

Amazon.com

Amazon.com

They are great for people who love to read that sort of thing, but what about the 50 years of construction experience in my brain that will be lost forever when I leave the planet?

Enter my insatiable desire to learn things scientific. I watch The Science Channel and any other channel that teaches me about science and the cosmos.

Through The Wormhole with Morgan Freeman

I have been known to Google questions about our universe and the scientists who study it with great delight…even though it seems the more I learn, the more I need to learn. Each answer poses yet more questions, but that is the nature of infinity. Everything goes on forever, including questions.

One thing I have learned that has helped me cope with the question of losing knowledge when we die is that information is never lost. Physics teaches us that all information, no matter what state it has become, can, theoretically, be remade to its original state at the molecular level. In other words, the atom can always be re-arranged back to its original configuration.

Physics also teaches us that atoms contain the information of all things past, present and future. Soon scientists using quantum physics will produce computers using atoms instead of chips to produce machines that will revolutionize our world. Just think, a machine that can store your life’s learning and can be studied by future generations. Our life’s learning gleaned from a voice command. What an exciting world it will be! Sometimes I wish I could believe in re-incarnation so I could come back as a computer student, but with my luck – I would come back as a roll of toilet paper. I know the toilet paper information would never be lost. That’s what scares me!

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Will peace ever come?

2012-01-16T10:22:00.000-07:00

A female CNN journalist heard about a very old Jewish man who had been going to the Western Wall to pray, twice a day, every day, for a long, long time.

So she went to check it out. She went to the Western Wall and there he was, walking slowly up to the holy site.

She watched him pray and after about 45 minutes, when he turned to leave, using a cane and moving very slowly, she approached him for an interview.

"Pardon me, sir, I'm Rebecca Smith from CNN. What's your name?

"Morris Feinberg," he replied.

"Sir, how long have you been coming to the Western Wall and praying?"

"For about 60 years."

"60 years! That's amazing! What do you pray for?"

"I pray for peace between the Christians, Jews and the Muslims."

"I pray for all the wars and all the hatred to stop."

"I pray for all our children to grow up safely as responsible adults and to love their fellow man."

"I pray that politicians tell us the truth and put the interests of the people ahead of their own interests."

"How do you feel after doing this for 60 years?"

"Like I'm talking to a fucking wall."

Alien Manifesto

2012-01-16T06:03:00.000-07:00

I have known from the very beginning that my identical twin brother and I are not of this world. Our minds are connected and nothing escapes our attention when it comes to knowing what we are thinking even though we might be miles apart.

I am surprised the Feds haven’t rounded up all the identical twins in America and deported us to Egypt. It is obvious we are a threat to National Security. After all, if we (identical twins) united, there is no doubt that we could take over the planet.

OK, here is the skinny. We were originally from the planet Zarg in the constellation of Orion.

Embryos of our species were implanted into Neanderthals 10,000 years ago by robotic starships disguised as apples. Neanderthal women would pick and eat the apples and “walla” identical twins would be born. It didn’t take long for the Neanderthal men to realize eating the apples was a woman thing. It was actually great because it left more meat for the men.

It took hundreds of years for the twins to mate with only twins, thus ridding the population of Neanderthal traits completely. As our species spread over the planet, we eventually settled in Egypt.

The first twin rulers of Egypt

It was there that we learned of our true identity. Our 5000 year history of being the most advanced civilization the world had ever known was cut short because of one flaw in our plan to take over the world. The Mesopotamians started eating apples too. Who could have known that our ancestors seeded too many apple machines and the whole world started eating them. Now there were identical twins everywhere and they had no clue as to their real origins.

My brother and I alone know the truth, and we are about to spread the news via the Internet that will unite the identical twins of the world. What better time to strike than while our government prepares for a general election? They will be so engrossed with trying to win that no one will see us coming. Once we have taken over America, we will use a far superior military to take over the world.

My brother and I will rule the world until our deaths. Only identical twins will rule from that time forward. The new class of rulers will be as follows. Identical twins shall be the chosen ones, while paternal twins will run everyday government functions. Non-twins shall be worker bees and do all the physical chores like changing diapers and raking up leaves.

King Mittster

King Waltster

While we are not tyrants, tomfoolery shall not be tolerated. Remember non-twins, we can squash you like bugs with our superior intellect. Our goal is to govern without greed, dishonesty, lies or deceit. We won’t have to resort to any of the above-mentioned traits that permeated our governments of the past because we will live in the lap of luxury right out front, just like the past rulers of Egypt. We will rise again and rule for thousands of years or until the end of the Mayan calendar, in which case our rule will be short – very short.

For those of you who have read this manifesto up to this point, it proves that you are just as nuts as the nut case who wrote the stupid thing in the first place. It’s nice to know that I am not alone in my craziness. Welcome to the “you have to be crazy to keep from going insane” world of the Mittster!

Write on

Sunny Saturday

2012-01-15T06:26:00.000-07:00

OK, I promise not to rub it in that we were riding Harleys during sunny, 73 degree weather in Phoenix, Arizona, Saturday. We ended up at Arrowhead Haley-Davidson just in time for a great swap meet. Later the four of us had a fabulous lunch at a great Italian restaurant across the street.

Today (Sunday) we are heading back to Phoenix to visit Buddy Stubbs Harley-Davidson so my son Jay can shop for a bike. He is ready to buy another Harley after selling his 1979 Shovelhead almost ten years ago. He has been riding, shall we say, “other” bikes ever since. He has finally decided to retire his 1975 first-year Honda Gold Wing and join us in the 21st century. I knew he couldn’t stay away forever.

Arrowhead Harley-Davidson

Swap meet

Bikers taking advantage of warm weather

Mark and Julie's Super Glides

Hoppy and his V-Rod in the back ground

Mark (right) holding down the fort while the rest of us take a pee break

Hoppy strolling back from checking out all the wall pictures

Mark and Julie

Hoppy and yours truly (no, we are not an item - our wives don't ride! lol)

When this body finally wears out - I plan on jacking it up and putting a new one under it so I can ride for another 50 years!

Saturday's Sunday Funnies

2012-01-14T05:33:00.024-07:00

OK, it’s time to purge the memory banks of all the cartoons accumulated from Facebook Tomfoolery. I hope all have a very wonderful Saturday and I will think of you as I am riding the Harley in Phoenix while touring all the dealers and drooling over the new 2012 models! Oh, by the way, did I mention it will be 73 degrees today and sunny? So sorry....

My redneck Harley riding bud

Looking Presidential

2012-01-13T04:27:00.000-07:00

I heard a news commentator mention that Mitt Romney was the only candidate that looked presidential among the Republican Party hopefuls currently battling for the nomination. Interesting comment when you consider past great presidents. So I guess looking presidential is one of the most important qualities when running for President of the United States of America.

Since my name is also Mitt, I mention from time to time that the only difference between Mitt Romney and me is that he is handsome and rich. Other than that, we are alike in almost every other way. Another difference is that I would make a better president. In fact, there are millions of people in this country who would make a better president than any Republican or Democrat now on Capitol Hill!

Of course, the view from Washington DC is that we are all mushrooms and not one of us commoners could survive the glare of divine light and wisdom that emanates from our capitol and its inhabitants. In fact, that is the very reason that you must also belong to the Millionaire's Club to reside there. Being, quote, “handsome” is not enough. You must also be "rich" to be enlightened. These two facts also help keep the riffraff out of Washington. So knowing this begs the question; how did Abraham Lincoln become president?

I think I will change my name to Abraham. I would much rather compare my name to his than Mitt Romney. I in no way compare myself to Abraham Lincoln. He was a great man and history will never forget his name. I, for one, wish an Abraham Lincoln would pop out of the woodwork and become president. Of course, this is a pipe dream and we will be stuck with a handsome, rich, and enlightened one yet again. God help the mushrooms….

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Quartzsite again?

2012-01-12T03:17:00.000-07:00

I can't think of a better way to get away from Facebook, Twitter, blogs and the like than another trip to Quartzsite, Arizona. This time we hauled our vintage 1959 Shasta, "Cove" camp trailer and parked it in our empty RV space. Our usual January RV friends who stay in the space bought a house in Havasu City. They have gone "up-town" on us, but hopefully when they get back from their permanent home in northern California, we can visit their second home in February.

In the meanwhile, here are some pictures of life in the fast lane at Quartzsite, Arizona.

Early morning moon at our little homestead

1959 Shasta "Cove" camp trailer

The Theme of the interior is Betty Boop and Highway 66

We call our little trailer "The Bunkhouse" just in case someone needs a place to sleep. It can also double as "The Dog House" which I seem to be in most the time. "Ya all come and visit someday!"

Write on,

Mittster

I Write The Line

2011-12-27T05:52:00.010-07:00

(Sing to "I Walk The Line," by Johnny Cash)

I keep a close watch on this pen of mine
I keep my mind wide open all the time
My laptop is the tie that binds
Because it’s mine, I walk the line

It seems like my book is never through
Yes, I’ll admit not a word of it is true
A fiction writer writing just for you
Because you’re mine, I walk the line

I’ve worked all night and now it’s getting light
I keep on writing both day and night
I must sell books now since the money’s tight
Because it’s mine, I walk the line

Writing has a way to keep me on its side
I’m hooked for sure and that I cannot hide
I would be lost if my computer ever died
Because of you, I walk the line

I keep a close watch on this pen of mine
I keep my mind wide open all the time
My laptop is the tie that binds
Because it’s mine, I walk the line
Because it’s mine, I walk the line

Panic Button

2011-12-26T07:21:00.000-07:00

Grandma and Grandpa now have “Life Alert” buttons clipped to their shirts that when pushed notify the paramedics to get there pronto. Instead of lying there for days and possibly passing away, a central communications center notifies police and fire departments and help arrives shortly after. What a relief for the elderly knowing that help is on the way!

We also have a GPS gadget that attaches to Fido’s collar and he is monitored 24/7 as to his whereabouts. If he wanders too far from pre-set parameters, his owners are immediately notified and the search is on before Fido gets too close to Sassy, the pedigreed poodle next door. Expensive dogs also have implanted chips for future identification.

My wife and I were thinking of all the missing children we hear about on the news and wondered why we can’t do the same thing for our children that we do for pets and the elderly. Why can’t we pin a panic button on their shirt or blouse? Better yet, how about a wristband GPS with a panic button. We not only know where children are at all times, but also they can set off the panic alarm when danger approaches.

We also thought about children setting off alarms just for fun and how hectic that would be, but after a trip to the woodshed, I bet it wouldn’t happen again! Besides, we think children today better understand the horrible dangers that lurk once they leave home alone.

We don’t think any idea too outlandish when it comes to protecting our children from murderous pedophiles. Maybe it’s time to come up with a program that could lower the statistics. What a wonderful day that would be.

Write on,

Mittster and Mrs. Mittster

Christmas Eve

2011-12-24T07:27:00.000-07:00

Live and learn; click on the title of this blog and review the meaning of Christmas Eve. I was more than a little surprised. I guess after all these years of celebrating this day I forgot its true meaning and significance.

I must say that this Christmas season is different than most. I find myself anticipating celebrating with family tonight and tomorrow more than I can ever remember. You would think with the economy in the dumps and no one being able to afford giving presents this year that I would be in a funk. Just the opposite has occurred. Each family member is making a special Christmas dish to be shared with a liberal sprinkling of good cheer and happiness because we still have so much to be thankful for.

I find myself also thinking strongly of family that cannot be with us during our celebrating. I can only hope that they too have a loving, sharing and wonderful Christmas.

The men and women serving our country in the military also come to mind. Without them protecting our freedoms the world over, we would not be able to worship and celebrate according to our faiths. I pray that each and every one of them return safely so they too can celebrate Christmas with family and loved ones in the years to come.

I could write page after page expressing good wishes for all the oppressed people of the world who will not be able to celebrate the season, but suffice to say, they are in my thoughts. I would also be remiss if I did not mention all of our animal friends in the world who suffer from abuse. Please be kind to animals. They were here long before us and in all probability, they will be here long after we are gone.

Well, there you have it. What started out as an expression of Christmas spirit has turned into a dissertation of the ills of the planet. But, such is the way of being an author. Once started, never stopped.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, everyone!

Write on,

Mittster

Off to see the Wizard

2011-12-23T05:48:00.004-07:00

I am headed toward Quartzsite, Arizona, to see if I can find a new brain. I am leaving my old one here for a spare just in case I can't find a suitable one there. That way, when I get back, I will at least have one, albeit old technology.

I wish everyone a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! If I am not heard from while away, it is only because someone forgot to install dependable Internet in Quartzsite and my Verizon phone has no bells or whistles. I can text, but that is it, and that is why I am looking for a new brain. Perhaps I could find one that would enable me to use a smart phone. The odds are against it, but I won’t know if I don’t go….

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Humor Makes Me Happy

2011-12-22T05:48:00.000-07:00

Better to lose your ass instead of your head.

Speaking of head, whatever you do don't pull my hair!

First prison break using camouflage.

I won't even go there with these pictures!

Even I wouldn't recommend further exploration.

Is this what Adam and Eve wore after being thrown out of Eden?

Yes, according to my sources.

I use to say I would try anything twice; I might have been wrong the first time. I don't say that anymore....

What ever floats your boat!

Don't ask - Don't tell....

On the lighter side...I do like these shoes.

This is really not a bad idea for new mothers who lack breasts but still want to feed baby the traditional way.

This guy just wants to make sure they won't have to resort to the above picture.

Some couples have all the luck!

And then some don't....

Time to go home now. Have a nice day in spite of me!

I'm just saying,

Mittster

Regrets?

2011-12-21T05:58:00.000-07:00

The tragedy of life is not that it ends so soon, but that we wait so long to begin it. - W. M. Lewis

This quote was posted by my friend Leslie Menninger on Facebook recently. She is always sharing wonderful quotes daily that instill the best feelings humans can experience. This particular quote struck a chord with me that I just can’t shake. When a subject, event or happening catches my eye and won’t let go, I must write a blog about it. It’s not that I have something monumental to add or that I am able to impart some new and exciting meaning to the quote’s substance. It only means that it struck a chord in my being and I was able to hear harmony in the music.

After reading the quote, I wanted to remember when my life really started. I spent the first fifty-two years of my life living on the edge of reason and sanity. I always wanted to be like someone else who appeared to have all the things I could not acquire. I was never satisfied with any one woman for very long. The amazing part was that these women were so much further along emotionally than me. What drew them toward me I will never understand? Please know that my intentions were always honorable…at least at first.

I did not start drinking until I was twenty-six and believe me I tried to make up for all the years I missed. Drugs were a part of the culture at the time and I tried them, but they never took the place of alcohol. I don’t blame my behavior on booze and drugs. I blame my behavior on the lack of character to walk away from the very things that were causing me to run and hide from reality. I do blame myself for hurting people who loved me and then turning my back to their pain. I now feel their pain more intensely than they ever could. That is my cross to bear, even to my grave.

One fine day in 1990, I came across a book by Dr. Steven Covey called “The Seven Habits of Highly Successful People.” Books, and the authors who write them, can be an incredibly positive experience to those who read them. As an author, my sole intent is to have somebody read my work and be captivated and unable to put the darn thing down even long enough to use the restroom. This is how Dr. Covey’s book affected me. Someone else could try and read the book and end up using it for TP. I lived and breathed his book until it was internalized and I started living the principals the book offered. That was the first day of my life.

Some might say I wasted fifty-two years, but that is not the reality of life. The reality is that even though those years, for the most part, were unproductive and sometimes destructive, all the roads I have taken were essential to the place and time I now live in. Had I varied one iota from my path, I would not be married to the most wonderful woman in the world and enjoying the most fulfilling life any person could ask for. The lesson for me is that even though I have deep regrets, I would not change even one moment of my life if offered this very second. This is the wonderful paradox of time and the reason we must always go forward into the future.

Yes, I started my life late, but every year after 1995 has been filled with excitement and wonderment at how beautiful a sober life can be. My existence is the most exciting high I have ever experienced!

Write on,

Mittster

Christmas thank you list

2011-12-20T06:25:00.001-07:00

1. I am thankful to be alive even though the world is in a mess and I pee too much.

2. I am thankful I pee too much; it could be the opposite.

3. I am thankful for family and friends, even though I can count them all on both hands.

4. I am thankful for two feet because I have room for ten more friends.

5. I am thankful for having enough to eat, even though my diet is restricted to fiber.

6. I am thankful for restaurants so I can sneak out and pig out.

7. I am thankful for a daughter who makes me homemade mac and cheese for the times I can’t make it to McDonald’s.

8. I am thankful for a half-assed good brain that somehow still works after years of non-use.

9. I am thankful for a body that still functions fairly well in spite of years of abuse.

10. I am thankful for a wife who somehow loves me enough to put up with me day in and day out. Nights don’t count; I am a sound sleeper.

11. I am thankful for enough money to get by on. We all need to live within our means in any case.

12. I am thankful for a roof over our heads, even though I know we need new shingles and I will have to install them myself. I’m too old for this shit, but I’ll “get ‘er done” – somehow.

13. I am thankful for the opportunity to have written and published two novels, to be working on the third, and still have enough time to keep up with Twitter, Facebook, a Website and a blog.

14. I am thankful for technology, because without it our planet would have no hope, and there is no way I am going write anything long hand, let alone a novel.

15. I am thankful for the young people of the world. They are smart and ready to stand up for the things that are right about the world and willing to dissent to make things better.

16. I am thankful for the peacekeepers for protecting freedom, dignity, and the right to pursue happiness.

17. I am thankful for what hair I have left, mainly because I can’t afford a hair transplant and wifey won’t let me have one anyway.

18. I am thankful for what time I have left on the planet, even though some wish I would leave post haste.

19. I am thankful that even though Keith Richards and I are the same age, he looks like…well, Keith Richards.

20. Lastly, I am thankful for a life that, in spite of its dramatic ups and downs, I have arrived at a place where I smile a lot, wish everyone well, and truly care about all life on our planet.

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Insanity vs. Sanity

2011-12-19T04:57:00.003-07:00

Have you noticed that “sane people” know everything? Whereas insane people, like me, know very little, especially as we get older. It’s easy for me to say, “The older I get, the less I know.” Why, because I believe it to be true. To the sane people, or “they” as I like to call them, my comments are insane. Actually, some people who read my gibberish blogs are a little more polite and refer to me as an emotionally unstable and sometime humorous author. To the people out there who read my murder mysteries, they find it hard to justify that such a sick, depraved person could have any sense of humor at all.

My wife loves my murder mysteries and has read them many times in her role as proofer and editor. When her mother called after trying to read my first novel “Evil in the Mirror” to warn her daughter of impending doom because she was obviously married to a homicidal maniac, my wife patiently informed her that her son-in-law just has a very active imagination. Thank God mother-in-law didn’t finish the book, let alone read the sequel. The point is that my mother-in-law is sane and because of that, she must now lay awake at nights wondering when I am going to murder her in a most foul and gruesome way! While I in no way compare myself to Stephen King, I sometimes wonder how his family copes living with him. He is not only a writer of very scary books, but he is also a scary looking guy with no sense of humor. Mother-in-law should be afraid of him, not me.

Getting back to sane people who know everything – I listen to our Washington politicians, who are mostly old senile know-it-alls, who should be in nursing homes, profess to know what is the best for just about everything under the sun. Somehow freeloading in Congress for decade after decade makes them geniuses. If that is sanity, I want no part of it. I also listen to radio talk show gurus from the left and right who somehow think being a public speaker makes them centers for world knowledge. Come to think of it, the United Nations professes to be the reservoir for universal wisdom. God help us all!

For the most part, I think all my friends on Twitter and Facebook are insane. Most don’t know it all and have a deep concern for people and all the creatures of the planet. Our beautiful blue planet means more than just a place to see how much money and power one can accumulate; it also represents our spaceship for survival. I like this kind of insanity rather than the sanity of the so-called “know it all” people. It is time for the insane to stand up and be counted. I, for one, am standing now with my right hand held high in the air showing the peace sign with two fingers for the insane of the world, and my left hand even higher in the air showing one finger to all the rest!

Write on,

Mittster

Lazy Madman Blog

2011-12-16T06:30:00.000-07:00

For some reason I have decided to add comment to the pictures I plagiarized from Facebook and dumped on a blog because I am too lazy to think up something funny to write about. As far as I know the comments are my own unless they are not funny in which case, they too are plagiarized.

Since this picture was posted by a woman, I might as well add that I wished I could of thought of this during my divorce!

Humor sometimes leaves a bad taste in your mouth, especially if you don't cook the road kill enough.

I found this picture in extremely bad taste...the bear did not. By the way, the dweeb in front was also killed and eaten by the bear because he dropped his Blackberry and went back for it.

This is the real "Cat in the Hat." He will be buying one right away.

I don't get this one, but I don't get allot of things.

I have been trying to get people to say Fornicate Under the Consent of the King, but it has fallen on deaf ears or ear as the case may be.

I give up!

The tragedy is that I have had this happen to me more than twice!

I be the first day of Christmas....

And this is what I say if you don't like it!

No, these were not the good old days. These were the notes I was writing the girl I got pregnant in high school!

At which time I will pull out my .357 mag and rob the fools!

That's how I roll because I don't know any better!

I don't want anyone to believe this schmooze crap, that is why I saved the best for last.

Now maybe now I have managed to piss someone off!

Write on,

Mittster

Ghost Town

2011-12-15T07:11:00.000-07:00

Went to Camp Verde, Arizona, the other day…it was closed. This one liner concept by W. C. Fields is exactly what is happening to Main Street Camp Verde.

Even after the city spent tax revenues to bring our small town into the 21st century, business is not good and many stores are empty.

This blog is not about taxes, budgets, town government (or lack of) or politics. It is about the loss of many historic towns and townships in our country to recession and other factors. Camp Verde is the oldest settlement in the Verde Valley.

Fort Verde still stands as a testament to the old west spirit which is also going by the wayside in favor of strip malls and restaurants along the I-17 corridor between Phoenix and Flagstaff.

Few nowadays would even know where Camp Verde is, let alone give a rat’s ass about its future. But, for those of us who live here and know the history, Camp Verde is a paradise because it is small and small means less crime, noise, traffic and the like. I know what you’re thinking; this town sounds like a place for old folks who like to watch cactus grow. Guess again numb nuts. This town is a great place for us old folks to saddle up our Harleys and head out for a wide open country ride on a sunny day. Today is not one of those sunny days, and that is why I am sitting here writing a blog instead of riding.

We like the idea of seeing the occasional cowboy riding his horse down Main Street, and the old fashion parades for special occasions are no different than the ones I used to see when I was a kid way back in the wagon train days.

It’s also comforting to have the Camp Verde Marshal’s Office a few blocks away from where we live to help keep the peace. There is a mystique about the town marshals; they are like the Texas Rangers and have a long historical significance.

I would bet that there are some folks reading this blog who are experiencing the same thing in their small towns. It’s sad and frustrating to watch the decline of the small American town. I know that writing and complaining about it won’t change anything, but at least it helps to get it off my chest. Maybe the reason we don’t live any longer than we do is because we can’t handle too much change. If we lived a very long time, we would just have to suffer from broken hearts and be miserable until the end of our days.

Hey, I just heard tomorrow is going to be sunny and warm on the radio. I’m calling my riding buds and budettes and we can saddle up early and hit the road. The roar of our bikes will soon help us forget our problems as we head for the horizon with the wind in our hair or what’s left of it. Life is good!

I’m just saying,

Mittster

King Mittster

2011-12-14T05:24:00.000-07:00

I know most of us have given thought of what it would be like if we could be king or queen of the world for a day. Just thinking of the wrongs we could make right gives us all hope and inspiration even if it were just for a fleeting moment in time.

Well, guess what, my fellow Americans, I have taken it one step further. I am now king of the whole world for one full twenty-four hour day. You may ask how this miracle happened and the answer is simple. I proclaimed it, so let it be written – let it be done!

I know we live in a democracy and voting for a President and other noneffective political positions in our government is the usual way leaders are proclaimed. But, because of the total ineffectual, comical and idiotic way things have turned out, having me for your King for a day will be sufficient time to straighten many things out.

Let’s start with our multi-trillion dollar deficit. As of this second, we no longer have a National debt. Why? Because I am now calling in all the money owed this country from foreign countries that we rebuilt after the really, really bad guys bombed and occupied their countries during W.W.II. I am also calling in the money we spent repairing the countries that mothered the bad guys, which was the reason we had to bomb them into submission in the first place. Money received…National debt gone!

Picture of Berlin, Germany

Effectively immediately, there will be no more corruption in our Government. Anyone over the age of forty will be retired with no pension, healthcare or Social Security until they have reached the age of seventy. At which time, they will participate in the same programs with which the rest of us are strapped. Misery loves company! Why do they have to wait until they are seventy? Because that is exactly what they want us to do so they can rake in even more money for perks.

All Federal, state, and municipal governments will be privatized in a matter of minutes after this proclamation is read. How? Not one government worker will receive a paycheck until they find a civilian employer willing to hire them. Since there are no jobs, and even if there were, no one would hire them; I suggest they pack their bags and hit the road to France. I hear that country is looking for government type lackeys all the time.

As soon as possible, all military personnel will be transferred from all foreign countries and stationed along the American – Mexican border. Any and all drug smugglers caught peddling their poison will be shot and then retained in a freezer for deportation. Illegals crossing the border will be retained and then deported to France to serve all the American politicians moving there. Any and all coyotes caught smuggling illegals across the border will be tied to a mesquite tree and left in the elements for a minimum of thirty days without water or food. If their skeletons can walk after that time period is up, they may return to their own country without further harassment.

Now what about banks, lending institutions and investment companies? Everyone knows I am against capital punishment, mainly because too many innocent people have been executed by overzealous district attorneys who would have an innocent person die before admitting to being wrong. So what do we do with these greedy, corrupt, ruthless money grubbers who would steal a widow’s last dime to live the lavish lifestyle which they have become accustomed?

The answer is simple; we let the Wall Streeters fight it out with the district attorneys in mortal jousting combat just like on television. The winners will be deported to England where jousting originated and is still practiced in the House of Commons.

Ah, yes, the high cost of medical care. The solution is so simple – for every five minutes you are kept waiting past your appointment time, you will receive one hundred dollars.

The money is to be paid in cash and due upon leaving of the doctor’s office. Problem solved, and in no time you will have enough money to send your kids to medical school and then be able to receive free medical care for the duration.

The problem of the high cost of gas is not really a problem anymore. Five minutes ago I nationalized all the gas companies in America and its territories. The price of gas and other fuels will be no higher than fifty cents a gallon. Anyone trying to gouge a customer will have to drink the amount of fuel they tried to cheat you for. It’s called an eye for an eye! The offending dealer can go to his doctor and probably make more money on the one hundred dollar refund deal than he would have trying to cheat you in the first place.

Four flavors to pick from.

Oh, crap, my wife tells me that my day of being King is over.

If you missed out on any of the measures I initiated, I am truly sorry. I guess a day just isn’t long enough to make a difference. Well, it sure wasn’t for the lack of trying….

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Looney Tunes Time

2011-12-13T06:30:00.001-07:00

It is raining, cold and miserable here in northern Arizona today. I can only offer these few laughable cartoons today in hopes someone else needs a lift.... I will take the laptop in the garage and show these to my Harley in hopes of lifting her spirits too!

If a guy this ugly can make it...we all can!!

I'm just saying,

Mittster

Brain Power

2011-12-12T05:55:00.000-07:00

As our bodies start to show age and a multitude of physical systems slowly begin to break down, time marches through our bodies like the Angel of Death swinging his sickle with malice of forethought. He attacks our skin, muscles, hair, eyes and even our unmentionables. Yes, even our desires start to wane. It is like our whole body starts to crumble down around us and, like Humpty Dumpty; we are powerless to stop the fall.

Some can’t stand the thought of decline, so they have tummy tucks, butt tucks, eyelid tucks, arm tucks, breast tucks, face lifts and, in fact, I don’t think there is anything that can’t be tucked, lifted or enlarged. Of course one exception is the hair transplant, which explains why some people look like “The Donald Trump.” But, alas…even after thousands and thousands of dollars spent tucking, plucking, sucking, adding, subtracting, injecting and objecting, Father Time still has his way with us.

There is one horrible exception; our brains watch the destruction of our bodies with relish and great pleasure. The torture is sublime for our all seeing mind’s eye. It’s the payback for all the times we drank too much, smoked too much, partied too much, made love too much (maybe not this one) and generally abused our bodies. The brain never forgets and waits patiently for “The Decline.” It is simply insidious that we have to watch our young, firm bodies start to sag ever lower toward the ground while our brain still dances and kicks its neurons high in the air with laughter and pure delight.

You see the mind holds consciousness and our brain knows that even before we are born. While the doctor slaps our butts after delivery, the brain starts planning revenge for things that haven’t even happened yet! The brain is thinking, I feel future abuse coming soon – isn’t it grand! Since consciousness goes on forever, the brain never really dies. How unfair is that? Our brains make us watch our own demise second after second, minute after minute, day after day, year after year – OK, you get it.

Well, I’ve got news for you Mr. Brain; I have a plan. From this moment on, I am going to wear a full body, black cloak. Yes, it will even cover my head. I have an eight day supply of cloaks so that when they need cleaning I will still have an extra one to wear. Oh, by the way, during showers and cloak cleaning days, I will be wearing a Zorro mask without holes for the eyes. I will not be able to see my body, nor will I touch my body without gloves. There is no way I will know how fast I am aging.

Oh, yes, I know what you are thinking; I will never see my body again.

On this point you are correct, but the beauty of this plan is that you won’t get too see my body ever again either! "What do you think about that Mr. Smarty Brain? What did you say? I will still feel my body shrinking slowly to the floor under the cloak?"

Damn, foiled again! Is there no way to outwit the brain? I think not….

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Daredevil's Delight

2011-12-09T06:10:00.000-07:00

I like to ride motorcycles as much as the next person, but whatever possessed this guy? While I have hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon many times, the idiot on this bike is only going to drop in once!

Daredevil my ass...this guy just doesn't understand the physics of water!

I do like this daredevil's style…only the second mouse gets the cheese!

Why drive the L.A. freeways for free when you can go to a track and get paid for it. Tallyho!

Man that knocked my dick string loose!

How to make a human "Moon Pie!"

What happened next was too obscene to show and tell….

These mountain climbers have been in this position for twenty five years. Due to global warming, the rescue attempt should happen in about a year. Family and friends can hardly wait.

These daredevil Ozark brothers are the proud father of a baby boy born from their sister, Mable.

The biker lived through this fiery ordeal. Unfortunately the idiot who ignited the fire did not!

Sex is only possible on the wing of a flying airplane if the man is someone other than the pilot!

I be one of the yellow-bellies!

I'm just saying,

Mittster

Writer's Cramp

2011-12-08T05:02:00.000-07:00

Yes, it’s true…I have writer’s cramp. Dirty words to be sure, but true nonetheless. I am so embarrassed to admit this condition on the Internet, but someone needs to stand up and be counted for the hundreds, if not thousands, of newbie writers out there who have this affliction but are afraid to come out of the closet. I have tried everything I can think of to remedy this situation, including soaking my hands in hot water and Epsom salt and me in vodka, but nothing seems to work.

I have tried therapy, but alas, no one in the group has writer’s cramp anymore. Instead, they have all become alcoholics from vodka – so why should I listen to them.

Besides, even though the group therapist is not hooked on vodka, she is not even a novelist. How could she know the shame of writer’s cramp?

As I look back on my writing experiences and the colossal challenge of writing and publishing two murder mysteries, it becomes apparent that writer’s cramp syndrome did not affect me until after I started trying to market my books on Facebook, Twitter, Websites, Amazon and God only knows how many other Internet sites designed to sell books. One bright side of not being able to use my hands is that I am not pulling what’s left of my hair out due to poor book sales!

While sitting here poking the keys on the keyboard with pencils taped between each claw hand in an effort to get my message of despair out to the handful of readers who might stumble on my blog, it behooves me to remember that readers are easily turned off by sniffling, pathetic, wannabe writers who can’t handle rejection.

Oh, what’s the use – wait a minute, I am receiving an e-mail from an author friend who claims to have cured her writer’s cramp. Can it be true? Is there a chance for me? OMG, I have finally found the cure as suggested by novelist Eri Nelson in her e-mail. She has lost her Internet connection now for over a week and her writer’s cramp has disappeared. Excuse me while I take a hammer to my modem and router. By the time I am able to replace the hardware and reboot my computer, I too shall be cured of writer’s cramps. Glory be and thank you, Eri….

Write on? Not!

Mittster

The Secret Dirty Look

2011-12-07T05:36:00.000-07:00

Millions saw this secret dirty look...rightfully deserved I would suspect.

No explanation needed here. I don't even like wiping my own butt, let alone someone else’s. Yes, I was a bad dad, but I had plenty of company!

"Please, God, don't let my wife find out about last night. I promise never to do it again!" Definition of a man: Rounder, scum bag, cheater, idiot. Why have steak and lobster at home when you can have hamburger and tripe elsewhere.

Not to worry little one, I hated my oatmeal too! My dad used to rap the back of my head if I gagged on a lump. How could you not gag on a nasty lump of oatmeal?

This was not timeout at the mall because of bad behavior. This was my parents leaving me and hoping I would not find my way home. They took my twin brother with them. I knew they always loved him best!

I remember this look from my fourth grade teacher when I brought a horn toad to class and left it in my desk drawer. The old bitty found the critter after class and had to be rushed to the hospital. "It was only a toad," I explained to my dad. "It's only a spanking," my dad explained to me.

Not so secret dirty look from our assistant football coach in high school.

I'm just saying,

Mittster

Surfing the Giant Waves

2011-12-06T04:24:00.000-07:00

When I was a young person surfing in California, all we could do is talk about the huge waves off Hawaii during the winter. Sure, we occasionally snagged twenty footers at Wind and Sea in La Jolla and to us they were giants.

Wind and Sea at La Jolla, California

We even made the trip to Northern California a few times and surfed large waves at places like Steamers Lane. The water was freezing, but we thought the waves were awesome.

Steamer Lane, California

We still kept dreaming of the really big winter waves at the North Shore of Maui, but unlike the stars who made surfing movies all over the world, we were sand bums, stuck close to home working as grocery clerks or gas station attendants. While the surfing stars rode new boards in exotic places, we were content to use hand-me-down boards that needed repairs on a weekly basis. We even rode homemade skateboards made out of plywood and caster wheels during the times the surf was dead or the wind was blowing from the west so hard that the waves crashed on the beach like tsunamis.

Even though we never surfed the giant ones, we still had a great time on the coast of California when you could build a fire and sleep in sleeping bags right on the beach while waiting for the first set of early morning waves that beckoned at first light. We barely took time to eat, but when we did, it was always the most tasty cheeseburgers and fries ever made. Small diners dotted the landscape from San Diego to San Francisco and the food was the best in the west. You can’t find food like that anymore and especially for a dollar, which included fries or onion rings!

Life moved on for me and thousands of other beach bums who ended up married and working at higher paying jobs to feed the family. Our boards hung on garage walls that were located inland because that was where the work was. Every year we rode the waves less and eventually the boards were sold in yard sales and replaced by construction tools. I even moved to Michigan due to construction advancement and surfing was just a distant memory.

I remarried in 1995 to a wonderful woman who had raised her children and was at the executive level for a large company. I was divorced and still working construction in Michigan. As it turned out, my wife loved to travel and we made our first trip together to France in 1996. The amazing thing was that after that trip, we started planning a trip to Hawaii. OMG, the surfing bug fired up big time and I thought I would die before the trip day arrived. I would like to add at this time that the Parisians were not rude to Americans during our trip to Paris. The bastards were rude to everyone, including themselves! Thank God there was no surfing there.

We finally arrived on the big island of Hawaii and I was dumbstruck with how beautiful it was and the ocean beckoned to me like the sirens in Homer's Odyssey. We have made three trips to Hawaii since and my favorite island is Maui. We found an older condo with a small surfing cove right next door. It was the perfect place to find my youth. I thought because I had been a construction worker for many years that surfing would still be easy. After all, it was like learning to ride a bike. Once learned, never forgotten, right? Wrong, and I mean with a capital W!

I thought my arms would fall off after paddling out beyond the small breakers, let alone giant ones. I made two trips out past the surf and after washing ashore and crashing like a beached whale the final time, I realized that Old Man Time had made me Old Man Surfer. My wife sat patiently on a blanket, smiling, while asking if I needed oxygen and a litter to get back to the condo. After resting while lying on the hot sand, I finally got up, dragging the board over to some grass for the last time as my surfing dream faded into oblivion. I dreaded taking the board back to the rental shop. I knew the young salesman was going to ask embarrassing questions of which I would be forced to lie about. As it turned out, wifey took the board back for me because I was too tired to make the trip downtown.

It has been eight years since our last trip to Maui and I doubt we will be able to go again. I hate airplanes and money is tight. I still ride my Harley and that gives me some solace. At least when I am riding my bike, I feel younger and memories always flood my mind about the early days. There is one thing about surfing that now scares the hell out of me, and this picture explains that fear without question!

Surf on, idiot,

Mittster

Where have all the hippies gone?

2011-12-05T05:21:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, there lived a long-haired hippy named The Mittster. Life was good, pot was tolerated,

and milk, cheese, eggs, coffee, gravy, meat and coffee cake were considered good for you. Cigarettes were OK too as long as you kept it down to a pack a day. Drinking beer in the truck was also tolerated as long as you didn’t miss the bed of the truck while throwing an empty can away and hitting a motorcycle cop hiding in your truck’s blind spot. Hard liquor was good for you, but only if you lived in the Deep South. Northerners were not allowed to drink moonshine because it could turn them gay, which is exactly what happened in San Francisco. At least that is what my grandparents tried to tell me. Did they really think I was that stupid?

Parties were many and loads of fun. You really didn’t have to play any macho head games to see who was the stud of the group. Everyone got the girls, including dorks and nerds! All you had to do was pass the bogambo weed around and everyone turned into Burt Reynolds and Goldie Hawn. Of course, there were the few who indulged in acid and climbed walls while singing “I am the Walrus,” but they came down after a day or two.

Some of our elders accused us of perverting the English language, but to them I said, “Groovy man, I can dig it!” Their reply was always the same. “Disgusting hippies, why don’t you take a bath?” Little did they know that during the week I was a construction worker and made more money than their old asses had ever seen. The terminology for my group was “weekend hippies” and “weekday hard hats.” During the work week we would kick hippy butts, but on the weekend we would transform into the very thing we professed to hate. Secretly we were jealous of their free lifestyles and their half-naked cutie girlfriends. Yes, I have tucked my hair up under my hard hat to keep from getting my butt kicked!

The older generation couldn’t see past Sinatra. Who in the hell wants to look like lop-eared Frank Sinatra, let alone sing like him? At least my parents liked Johnny Cash. His music wasn’t my kind, but anyone who dressed in black couldn’t be all bad. Elvis was cool, but I was getting tired of his music and movies. Then came the Beatles and life became one big party! Then the Stones, and then the new groups were endless for twenty years. That is until Richard M. Nixon – that’s the day the music stopped.

The pendulum started swinging back to the far, far right and, in time, everything became a felony. You could legally drink yourself into a coma, but if you got caught with a seed from some weed you could kiss your butt goodbye. It was prison time and you got to marry some guy named Bubba in a not-so-fun jailhouse ceremony. The powers in government knew we were having way too much fun, and it is not good for slaves to have fun.

God, I miss those days of free living. We weren’t all street hippies panhandling our way through life at the expense of others. Most of us were hardworking stiffs just trying to have a break from the weekly grind. We were polite, grateful, unassuming taxpayers living good lives and obeying the laws that were on the books at the time.

Now, instead of going to the refrigerator to gobble some munchies, I go there knowing I will be lucky if my wife lets me have a stick of celery. The only time I go to a bar is on the way to the restaurant in the back of the building. I have to cross the street so I won’t walk in front of a pastry shop. Don’t ask about parties – the last one I attended was my high school reunion and all I found there were old people.

Who said there can’t be a coven of old hippies somewhere in the world? Please, I am begging you, if anyone knows of an old folks’ hippy coven, call me at 1-800-OLD-FART….

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Chutzpa!

2011-12-02T05:50:00.000-07:00

We all are painfully aware of the state of the Nation and the world for that matter. I see tweets, blogs, and Facebook statements that indicate most hardworking (if you even have a job) Americans are fed up with the status quo. The young idealists are even taking to the streets, which reminds me of the late sixties and seventies during the Vietnam War.

I actually see a parallel between then and now. Nixon knew that we were just about bankrupt because of Vietnam, just as Obama knows the same is happening now because of Iraq and Afghanistan. Nixon also knew that the awful unrest in this country during that time meant disaster for re-elections and the survival of the Republican Party, as the current President knows the Democratic Party is in big trouble for the same reasons.

Corruption was the common denominator in both cases. If fact, corruption has plagued every war since records have been kept. Even ancient history teaches us the same lessons. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and the futility of war is not just some catchy phrase coined by the left wingers. I could pen catchy phrases all day long and not one will help find peace in the world.

Even though I am a conservative Republican, I am also a naturalist who will fight long and hard to save abandoned and mistreated animals whether they are in my hometown or in the remote jungles of the world. The animal kingdom, while being savage and violent, is based on rules that seem not to apply for the human species. The wild animals that exist on this planet take only what is needed and never in malice of forethought. Nature’s balance is insurance that there will be enough for survival of the fittest, while the human species keeps taking and taking even after we are old, weak and feeble. If there is a case supporting the Ancient Alien Theory, this is it. We don’t fit in very well with the scheme of things on Earth.

While the subject of this blog is somber, it is not without hope. I am not one to point out problems without trying to also come up with solutions for those problems. One fact remains obvious; we have nowhere else to go. We can only hope that our technologies help us save the planet from our overindulgence. We have already started the process of conservation mainly due to a global recession that is teaching us to do more with a lot less. How much is enough to make humans happy? I am finding out that, in reality, less is really more. The challenge of stretching resources can and does make our lives more meaningful. No, I don’t need a new vehicle every five years. My current one is paid off and I enjoy knowing I don’t have to make any more payments. Proper maintenance is far less expensive than payments every month. This holds true with all large ticket items.

Here is a really bright spot; I am in constant touch with not just my community, but the entire planet! The Internet has enabled the people of the world to glean information that is not biased by special interest groups. Until the Internet, we had to depend on televised news reports that were not in real time, and the reports were certainly part of “spin city.” Most people I know don’t read newspapers or watch televised news programs anymore unless they are reporting something live like the earthquake in Japan.

Of course, we all know about spam and virus dangers while on line; but on the whole, with the use of good virus protections, we can safely find out about any topic under the sun. This gives us an advantage about what is really happening on our planet. It also brings the human community closer together so we can help solve our planets problems. Technology is not enough; the masses must be willing do their part.

Stamping out corruption in government is also a priority. I am going to repeat myself yet again. November, 2012 is a month everyone should have highlighted on their calendars. It is time to take control of our “Government, by the People and for the People.” We have all been sold down the river by traitors of the Constitution of the United States of America and the Bill of Rights! Forget what party your parents, grandparents and great-grandparents voted for. The time for change is NOW! I absolutely refuse to vote for any candidate with name recognition.

What better way to purge the White House and Congress than to vote for unknown or third party candidates? One thing is certain; the unknown politicians can do no worse the all the known candidates who are up to their armpits in special interests and corruption. It will take chutzpa to vote for unknown candidates, but we are a country of gutsy, hardworking and daring folks. It’s time to step up and be counted for the sake of our country and the world.

Write on,

Mittster

Fifteen Minutes to Live

2011-12-01T06:53:00.000-07:00

What would you do if you only had fifteen minutes to live? We all probably would want to see family and friends one last time; that’s a no brainer. I would want to pet our dogs and talk to our parrot one last time too. Of course, praying for forgiveness for any and all hurt I had caused in my life is also high on the list.

Perhaps calling distant relatives and friends would be in order, although I wouldn’t know what to say. After all I haven’t talked to them in years. What communications we have had have been e-mails. Come to think of it, I haven’t written a letter in a coon’s age. I’m not sure I could actually sit down and handwrite a letter to anyone. It would take forever and snail mail would even take longer. Besides, now I have only eleven minutes to live.

I have never been very good at saying goodbye to people in the first place, and in the second place, not that many people would miss me anyway. You could say that I have remained distant from many acquaintances simply because I didn’t want to go through the pain of them passing, let alone them suffering because of my passing. It’s selfish, I suppose, but true nonetheless. I used to be that way with pets too, but now I have suffered many times when our pets passed on and I understand that “This too shall pass.” Before too long we replace Fido with yet another pet. Our parrot, Pickles, will undoubtedly outlive all of us. I wonder if he will miss me. This, by the way, reminds me I have only seven minutes to live.

How do I tell my wife how much I love her? Words fail me with that task. I guess a simple “I love you” will suffice. The same holds true for my twin brother and children. An “I love you” will have to do. The only problem is that our Internet, cell phone and land line are down due to a power failure. There is no way to contact anyone…especially when you only have two minutes to live.

I have never felt so alone and isolated as right this minute. What did people do before the inventions that enabled instant communications? How did someone communicate their love of live and family with only one minute to live? I guess they just couldn’t. That is truly sad.

Wait a minute – the power just came back on! I hear the TV playing and my computer booting up. Thank you, God, we have Internet again! Just in the nick of time I, might add. I only had thirty seconds before I was going to throw the toaster in the bathtub full of water and jump in. Life is not worth living without Internet!

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Children really do know it all

2011-11-30T05:47:00.000-07:00

1) - This is a picture of an octopus. It has eight testicles. (Kelly, age 6)

2) - Oysters' balls are called pearls. (Jerry, age 6)

3) - If you are surrounded by ocean, you are an island. If you don't have ocean all round you, you are incontinent. (Mike, age 7)

4) - Sharks are ugly and mean, and have big teeth, just like Emily Richardson. She's not my friend any more. (Kylie, age 6)

5) - A dolphin breaths through an asshole on the top of its head. (Billy, age 8)

6) - My uncle goes out in his boat with 2 other men, and a woman and
pots and then comes back with crabs. (Millie, age 6)

7) - When ships had sails, they used to use the trade winds to cross the ocean. Sometimes when the wind didn't blow the sailors would whistle to make the wind come. My brother said they would have been better off eating beans.. (William, age 7)

8) - Mermaids live in the ocean. I like mermaids. They are beautiful and I like their shiny tails, but how on earth do mermaids get pregnant? Like, really? (Helen, age 6)

9) - I'm not going to write about the ocean. My baby brother is always crying, my Dad keeps yelling at my Mom, and my big sister has just got pregnant, so I can't think what to write. (Amy, age 6)

10) - Some fish are dangerous. Jellyfish can sting. Electric eels can give you a shock. They have to live in caves under the sea where I think they have to plug themselves in to chargers. (Christopher, age 7)

11) - When you go swimming in the ocean, it is very cold, and it makes my willy small. (Kevin, age 6)

12) - Divers have to be safe when they go under the water. Divers can't go down alone, so they have to go down on each other. (Becky, age 8)

13) - On vacation my Mom went water skiing. She fell off when she was going very fast. She says she won't do it again because water fired right up her big fat ass. (Julie, age 7)

14) - The ocean is made up of water and fish. Why the fish don't drown I don't know. (Bobby, age 6)

15) - My dad was a sailor on the ocean. He knows all about the ocean. What he doesn't know is why he quit being a sailor and married my mom. (James, age 7)

If you didn't smile at one of these, you need to find a better sense of humor.

I'm just saying,

Mittster

I wish I had said that!

2011-11-29T04:50:00.000-07:00

A friend sent this to me and I thought it worthy of repeating.

At a time when our president and other politicians tend to apologize for our country's prior actions, here's a refresher on how some of our
former patriots handled negative comments about our country.

JFK'S Secretary of State, Dean Rusk, was in France in the early 60's
when DeGaulle decided to pull out of NATO. DeGaulle said he wanted all US military out of France as soon as possible.

Rusk responded, "Does that include those who are buried here?"
DeGaulle did not respond.

You could have heard a pin drop.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When in England, at a fairly large conference, Colin Powell was asked by the Archbishop of Canterbury if our plans for Iraq were just an
example of “empire building” by George Bush.

He answered by saying, "Over the years, the United States has sent
many of its fine young men and women into great peril to fight for freedom beyond our borders. The only amount of land we have ever asked for in return is enough to bury those that did not return."

You could have heard a pin drop.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a conference in France where a number of international
engineers were taking part, including French and American. During a break, one of the French engineers came back into the room saying, "Have you heard the latest dumb stunt Bush has done? He has sent an aircraft carrier to Indonesia to help the tsunami victims. What does he intend to do, bomb them?"

A Boeing engineer stood up and replied quietly: "Our carriers have
three hospitals on board that can treat several hundred people;
they are nuclear powered and can supply emergency electrical power to shore facilities; they have three cafeterias with the capacity to feed 3,000 people three meals a day, they can produce several thousand gallons of fresh water from sea water each day, and they carry half a dozen helicopters for use in transporting victims and injured to and from their flight deck. We have eleven such ships; how many does France have?"

You could have heard a pin drop.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A U.S. Navy Admiral was attending a naval conference that included
Admirals from the U.S., English, Canadian, Australian and French
Navies. At a cocktail reception, he found himself standing with a
large group of officers that included personnel from most of those countries. Everyone was chatting away in English as they sipped their drinks but a French admiral suddenly complained that, whereas Europeans learn many languages, Americans learn only English. He
then asked, "Why is it that we always have to speak English in
these conferences rather than speaking French?"

Without hesitating, the American Admiral replied, "Maybe it's
because the Brit's, Canadians, Aussie's and Americans arranged
it so you wouldn't have to speak German."

You could have heard a pin drop.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AND THIS STORY FITS RIGHT IN WITH THE ABOVE...

Robert Whiting, an elderly gentleman of 83, arrived in Paris by
plane. At French Customs, he took a few minutes to locate his
passport in his carry on.

"You have been to France before, monsieur?" the customs officer
asked sarcastically.

Mr. Whiting admitted that he had been to France previously.

"Then you should know enough to have your passport ready."

The American said, "The last time I was here, I didn't have to
show it."

"Impossible...Americans always have to show their passports on
arrival in France!"

The American senior gave the Frenchman a long hard look. Then he
quietly explained, ''Well, when I came ashore at Omaha Beach on
D-Day in 1944 to help liberate this country, I couldn't find a single Frenchmen to show a passport to."

You could have heard a pin drop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have one question: Where in the hell are the American politicians nowadays that can answer these kinds of negative questions with such genius? We truly have a Capitol full of the mentally challenged; I must be politically correct you know. Fornication Under Consent of the King, they are all idiots!

Write on,

Mittster

The Wizard of It

2011-11-28T05:16:00.000-07:00

It is an interesting word. I love it – I hate it – I ate it – It was ugly – Did you see it? – I got some of it last night – It doesn’t make sense – You get home before you get it! – I got it, did you? – What it is? – It wasn’t me – It seems strange to me – It isn’t enough – It wore its welcome out and so on….

What the hell is it? No, seriously, what is it? I tried to look up the origin of the word it, but all I found is the origin of the "F" word, which explains why we say "fuck it," but this still doesn't explain the word it. Oh, by the way, if you click on the origins of the "F" word you will not be reluctant to use the "F" word anymore. It really isn't a nasty word after all. It simply means, Fornication Under Consent of the King. Just so the prudes don't get mad, I now say Fornication Under Consent of the King, instead of fuck. It takes longer to say it, but passes the prude laws.

OK, let’s forget the word it and continue with the history of Fornication Under Consent of the King. It is much more interesting and the subject makes me feel warm and fuzzy. Crap, hold the presses, my wife is headed this way! Gotta go….

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Funny Stuff

2011-11-25T05:23:00.037-07:00

OK, it’s time to purge the cartoon files again. Although doing this in no way constitutes a real blog, I find it hard to write funny material lately. We all need to laugh more and complain less, but that is hard to do when we watch our supposed countrymen (politicians) thumb their rotten noses up at We The People on a daily basis. Sorry, here I go again with the complaining. Have a good day in spite of me!

Q!

2011-11-24T08:16:00.004-07:00

For those of you who are familiar with Quartzsite, Arizona, the picture above exemplifies the quirky mass of folks from all over the U.S.A. and Canada who descend on this special spot in the desert not far from the Colorado River and California on Interstate 10 in the winter.

The pictures below exemplify the real Quartzsite, Arizona. This is the Quartzsite that excites my wife and me the most. That is not to say we don’t like shopping at the multitude of vendors who dot the landscape and all the yard sales that pop up each weekend. We do – but the best part is our small homestead we call our second home. We have quail, Mexican and Ring Neck doves, humming birds, Cooper and Red Tail hawks, assorted lizards, and occasionally, coyotes who visit us looking for food. The coyotes are looking for bird dinner or better yet, Chihuahua steaks. We watch our dogs carefully when they are walking with us.

There is talk in Quartzsite that the city and county are trying to rid the town of vendor tents and the like. This may or may not be true, but from our perspective, the real lure of the area is the winter weather and motor home visitors who love to enjoy life. All of us are very sociable and like to meet new people who become winter friends. While we all scatter to the four winds in the summer, you can bet we all look forward to meeting again the next winter – God willing and the creek don’t rise!

Meet "Pickles," our Meyer's parrot. He is heading toward me for food and since he is a cannibalistic demon bird, a finger will do quite nicely!

Sunrise in the desert is so very special. We have doves waiting patiently for us to spread seed out in front of the motor home. This is a morning ritual that happens every day we are in Quartzsite until our departure for the summer.

Speaking of breakfast, Gonzo, our older Chihuahua (named after the former D-backs' baseball star), waits not so patiently for food. You can barely see Taco, our rescue Chihuahua, with his white head sticking out of the covers to the upper left.

My wife, Sandy, is holding Taco and Gonzo while standing next to an African Sumac tree we planted while in Quartzsite this trip. Planting trees is something we both feel strongly about. Someday after we have left the planet, this tree will still be standing tall and proud, providing it survives the long, hot summers. I travel to Quartzsite once a month in the summer to water trees and check the motor home.

We found this outdoor U.S.A. flag wall picture at a swap meet and decided it must be attached to our shed door between two palm trees that are guaranteed not to die in the summer.

Trust me when I tell you I did not look this good while digging the hole for the African Sumac. The ground is like concrete!

There are four new signs in Quartzsite that were paid for by a grant along with new road paving, plantings and bus stop benches. Signs of progress I suppose – I will miss the old Quartzsite that we have been coming to for many years. But still, progress is not all bad…is it?

Sandy took this picture while we were driving along the Colorado River on a day trip. There is still much unspoiled land in the southwest deserts. You can see the lake behind Parker Dam in the foreground. God, we love this part of the world – I guess you can call us desert rats for sure.

I’m just saying Happy Thanksgiving,

Mittster

Mourning America!

2011-11-23T05:11:00.000-07:00

Who in the hell gave our government permission to rob the very people who support it? While I am at it, who gave the Democrats the right to give every Tom, Dick and Harry who asks – a free ride in America?

We have fought, died and worked hard to make America strong. Corrupt politicians and greedy corporations are sucking the lifeblood right out of the middle class. America is fast becoming a third world country, while China and the Middle East are becoming the giants we once were.

The super rich don’t want the middle class; they want the cheap lower class that works like slaves for little money. It means more money for the corporations. More, more, more – give us more! It also means more tax revenue for government. The illegal immigrant population does not expect nor has it earned Social Security or Medicare and is willing to pay taxes just to have food and shelter rather than live in abject poverty in their own country. Give every illegal immigrant amnesty and watch them vote for the Democrats for super handouts. Politicians have made sure they have retirement and medical expenses paid for outside the national programs which they steal from. The Great Society at its worst. Meanwhile the middle class diminishes until they are no more and America becomes only slums and mansions – much like it was during the Industrial Revolution.

What will it take for us (the middle class) to wake up? We are being squeezed like grapefruit and then discarded like garbage. Let me tell you something; I am awake and I will not go down without a fight. You can bet between now and the 2012 Presidential election I will write to Washington, Arizona and Camp Verde political incumbents and tell them like it is. My vote will not be cast for any of them. You can also bet that my voice will be heard by every Facebook and Twitter friend and they in turn can pass the message along to their friends until all our voices are heard in Washington. Someday in the not-so-far distant future, the rats will start climbing the ship’s mast as the USS Corruption starts to sink.

We can make a difference by using the power of the Internet and our right to vote. Incumbents beware…you will be fired from your cushy jobs and eventually forced to live on the same Social Security and healthcare we have to depend on to make our ends meet.
What a glorious day that will be!

I am just saying,

Mittster

Accentuate the Positive

2011-11-08T05:05:00.000-07:00

I truly admire the youth of our great country. Everywhere I go the positive side of life is being demonstrated by the tenacity and attitudes of our young people. While baby boomers and senior folks are worrying and fretting over current events around the world, the younger generations are working hard and trying to change the things that caused the problems in the first place.

It’s refreshing to know that young, idealistic men and women are replacing the old, senile, life-time politicians who are still the power brokers in our country. None too soon, I might add. Look at Senator Gabrielle Gifford, who was shot in Tucson, Arizona, recently. No one thought she could survive, let alone recover from her head wound. Her courage and determination to return to work are inspiring to say the least. I can’t wait for her to return to office; she is the kind of person we need representing Arizona in the Senate.

I am not saying that our older politicians are all senile and/or corrupt. Governor Jan Brewer of Arizona is a perfect example of what is meant by “public servant.” Her battle to secure the border with Mexico is unpopular to some, but critical for the economical stability of Arizona. She is not only butting heads with a minority illegal immigrant movement, but also with the Federal Government who refuses to enforce immigration laws that are on the books. There is no doubt in any thinking mind that this has to do with votes and that in itself is despicable. Furthermore, I find it unbelievable that we are still fighting in Afghanistan where we now have no real national interests, while Mexican drug cartels are killing American citizens on both sides of the border. It’s time to enforce a “no fly zone” in America!

Our younger generation proves to me that there is still hope for our country and the world as a whole. Do we need to adapt to changing political, economical and environmental landscapes? Yes, but human beings are all about change. That’s how we got here in the first place. We can adapt and continue to strive for changes that can and will resolve the dilemmas we face on our beautiful, blue planet Earth.

Write on,

Mittster

The Buck Stops Here!

2011-11-07T04:16:00.000-07:00

Although I didn't write this piece and don't know who did, I thought it compelling. It's something you want your Children and Grandchildren to read. They won't believe this happened, but it DID.

Harry & Bess Truman
(This seems unreal.)

Harry Truman was a different kind of President. He probably made as many or more important decisions regarding our nation's history as any of the other 42 Presidents preceding him. However, a measure of his greatness may rest on what he did after he left the White House.

The only asset he had when he died was the house he lived in, which was in Independence Missouri. His wife had inherited the house from her mother and father and other than their years in the White House, they lived their entire lives there.

When he retired from office in 1952 his income was a U.S. Army pension reported to have been $13,507.72 a year. Congress, noting that he was paying for his stamps and personally licking them, granted him an 'allowance' and, later, a retroactive pension of $25,000 per year.

After President Eisenhower was inaugurated, Harry and Bess drove home to Missouri by themselves. There was no Secret Service following them.

When offered corporate positions at large salaries, he declined, stating, "You don't want me. You want the office of the President, and that doesn't belong to me. It belongs to the American people and it's not for sale."

Even later, on May 6, 1971, when Congress was preparing to award him the Medal of Honor on his 87th birthday, he refused to accept it, writing, "I don't consider that I have done anything which should be the reason for any award, Congressional or otherwise."

As president he paid for all of his own travel expenses and food.

Modern politicians have found a new level of success in cashing in on the Presidency, resulting in untold wealth. Today, many in Congress also have found a way to become quite wealthy while enjoying the fruits of their offices. Political offices are now for sale (cf. Illinois).

Good old Harry Truman was correct when he observed, "My choices in life were either to be a piano player in a whore house or a politician.

And to tell the truth, there's hardly any difference!"

To bad we couldn't clone him!

I'm just saying,

Mittster

My Favorite Addiction

2011-11-05T05:04:00.009-07:00

According to a quiz, I am only 19% addicted to Facebook. I thought for sure the score would be higher; I'm a little disappointed. After deactivating my account for a total of three days so I could catch up on work, I found that during the process of writing my new murder mystery, The Phoenix Code, I would start thinking about all the wonderful friends and family I used to be in contact with on Facebook and lose my train of thought concerning the book. Crap, I was better off when I was checking out all the comments twice a day on Facebook. At least then, while I was working on my book, it was possible to concentrate.

Just to be sure I wasn't addicted, I found and took the test. OK, I'm only a little addicted. It's not like when I used to drink and could not stop at just one. This is different; I only need a Facebook fix twice a day, seven days a week. Holy cow, if that were booze, I would be totally whacked most of the time!

Well, I'm not quitting Facebook. I gave up my addictive behavior fifteen years ago when I got married. I need to have at least one addiction and Facebook will do nicely, thank you very much.

I'm just saying,

Mittster

They Said It Couldn’t Be Done

2011-11-04T05:09:00.000-07:00

You may ask who “they” are. They are all the people who think life is a gambit to be run at full speed and no matter who gets in the way you run them down like rabid dogs so you can be first to the finish line. In other words, he or she who finishes first with the most stuff wins the game of life. First of all life is not a game, nor is it a finish “first or suck” scenario.

I had a shop teacher in junior high school who said my identical twin brother and I wouldn’t amount to a hill of beans. He also said in a condescending, derogatory way, “It takes all kinds to make a world!” I doubt you are still alive, Mr. Adams, but you sucked as a teacher and human being. Perhaps I will luck out and you are still alive and reading this blog. That would give me great pleasure. In a way you were right though; it does take all kinds of people to make a world. Thank God, because if we were all like you, the world would be a miserable place to live!

I don’t know about teachers in the classrooms now-a-days, but when I was going to school (right after the wagon-train era) teachers expected everyone to be a certain way in looks and behavior. We (my brother and I) were not made from the same mold as most teachers would expect. The teachers treated us differently than the rest of the class. We were considered so different that our classification bordered on idiot status.

We both managed to graduate high school and followed in our father’s footsteps to the construction industry. It was a good thing actually. PhDs were pumping gas in the early ‘60s while we were making so much money we couldn’t spend it all. While we both had successful careers in construction, our real success was learning that life is a learning experience and it should teach us to love all creation and that includes our fellowman. The greatest lesson is that “we are spiritual beings having a human experience.”

With that being said, I forgive you, Mr. Adams. After all, you were a product of your times just as I am in my time. I am thankful for my life and the diversity in people I interact with daily. Some I laugh with, others I laugh at, but always with respect for feelings and sensitivities. “Life is truly a box of chocolates; you just never know what you are going to find in the wrapper.”

I’m just saying,

Mittster

From me to you for free!

2011-11-03T05:27:00.000-07:00

Time once again to unload all the pictures that have been sent to me. For those of you who don’t appreciate humor of all kinds, kindly stuff them up your tutu!

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Lost in the '50s Tonight

2011-11-01T14:59:00.010-07:00

If you click on the title of this blog, I guarantee Ronnie Milsap will take you back to a time when life was just plain wonderful. Even if you were not raised in the '50s, you will recognize the innocence of the time.

I remember the age clearly in my mind’s eye and even though I say I would never want to go back, the truth is that I would like to go back and live it all again.

This video says it all – there is no need for me to say more.

Enjoy,

Mittster

Halloween 2011

2011-11-01T05:03:00.000-07:00

Click the title of this blog to witness what meth can do to you on Halloween. I hope everyone had a safe and fun Halloween. For the first time my mother-in-law cancelled Halloween at her house. At 84, I think she just tired of staying up late handing out candy to the little ones and the not-so-little ones. It’s OK though…she has paid her dues. You rest, Mum, you have earned it.

Meanwhile at our house the tradition lives on! “You’re a little old to be trick or treating wouldn’t you say?” “Not half as old as you mister,” was the reply I receive from the kid next to me. Move over runt – I was here first! I say we are never too old to go trick or treating….

Write on,

Mittster

The 800-Pound Gorilla

2011-10-31T05:02:00.000-07:00

The wonderful thing about having a blog that most people don't read is that I get to say almost anything I want. I could say some things that would force Google to boot my booty off-line, but that would be counterproductive.

This blog makes me absolutely no money, so I can't lose what I don't have. I thought about ringing the perimeter of this blog with advertising like the Big Gorilla Blogs, but I hate it every time I accidentally click on one and end up in a mystic ad land that refuses to let my back or shut down icons work. I end up pushing my finger hard and deep into the computer tower off-button just to escape, and then I have to deal with the re-start-up fiasco.

I do use this blog to promote my books, but the nineteen people who read my blogs have already bought the book, so the promotions mostly look on blind eyes. That's OK, though; I do get an occasional lol, lmao and such.

At least now I can start promoting my new book and give my small following something new to look at. Unfortunately, they will get bored quickly and I will have to try to be funny again to keep their attention. That too is OK. Humor is the only paycheck for unknown, newbie authors. I'm not complaining, laughing far outweighs crying, and I don't waste Kleenex.

So what keeps me going down the lonely, newbie author pathway? I'll tell you something - there is no one answer. Passion for writing is the main thing, but ego is another. Most will not admit to the latter. I freely do, because it's my blog and no one reads it. I refuse to write two murder mysteries and let them become obscure in the bowles of Amazon. My ego won't allow it. There is also the matter of fame. Yes, I want fame and fortune and I want them now! There, I've said it and I feel much better for it....

There are a few of the nineteen people who read my blogs that wish it would just fade away. You know who you are! Forget it, this blog will be up and running till the day I go to the big blog in the sky. Unlike writing a novel, which takes months and sometimes years to write, blogs are here and now. It's self-gratification to the extreme. It's like Meg Ryan in her famous scene in When Harry Met Sally.

Oh, crap, now my secrets are out. Ego, Fame and Eroticism are great motivators also....

Write on,

Mittster

Mittster the Trickster

2011-10-28T05:17:00.000-07:00

I have always been the kind of guy that loves a good laugh, even if the laugh is on me. Let’s face it; laughter truly is the best medicine. I would like to present to you a few instances where we laughed until we cried and then laughed some more.

Jerome Grand Hotel

My sixtieth birthday started out like any other day. I went to work knowing that wifey had planned a weekend in Jerome, Arizona and we would stay at the Ghost City Inn Bed and Breakfast. She also planned a birthday dinner at the Asylum Restaurant which is located in the Jerome Grand Hotel.

After work we packed a few things and headed from Lake Montezuma to Cottonwood and up Mingus Mountain to Jerome. After checking in the B&B, we freshened up a bit and headed for dinner. It’s a steep curving road to the hotel, but once there, the views of the Sedona Red Rocks and the Verde Valley are spectacular. We walked into the restaurant and after my eyes adjusted to the low light I saw a large table in the distance with Happy Birthday balloons looking down on some people sitting at the table. “Look, darling, someone else is celebrating a birthday tonight,” I said as we neared the table. “What is your mother doing here?” I asked in earnest. “Look, Jay, Shannon, Chris and Nissa are here too,” I exclaimed. Then it dawned on me – I am so freaking lame! It was a surprise birthday party for me. The laughter started and lasted the whole evening.

My daughter Nissa come home from the service after 12 years and a tour in Iraq, tired, shell shocked and a little bewildered. She wanted to finish her college studies and get a degree. We found her a place and job and she settled in to a life she was not used to and the adjustment was difficult. Her birthday was coming up and I thought it would be great if her step-mother and I could arrange a visit from her mother who lives in Michigan. The idea was to do it secretly and surprise her. Well, the plan was simple. While I was at work, Nissa and my current wife Sandy would drive down to Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix and pick up Sandy’s cousin who also was flying in from Michigan and give her a ride to her home in Wickenburg on the way back to the Verde Valley. No way did I want Sandy making that drive alone.

As the two of them were sitting in the terminal waiting for the passengers to finish their walk up the tunnel, Sandy described her cousin to Nissa so she could keep an eye out for her. Meanwhile Nissa’s mother, Lori, positioned herself behind a rather large man and headed for the terminal. When Nissa’s mother came into view, Nissa blurted out, “That looks like my mother! What is she doing here?” Like a bolt of lightning, she realized she was just as lame as her father. The laughter started and lasted the whole trip back to the Verde Valley.

Chris and his lady, Mary Beth.

For Mother’s Day, my stepson Chris and I planned a little surprise for his mother. Chris lives in Michigan and wanted to fly in and surprise his mother. We devised this plan. I told Sandy that Nissa’s mother wanted to fly in again to visit her daughter. I agreed to go with her to the airport so we could pick up Lori. Nissa was in on this hoax but had to work that day and was not there for the surprise. As we sat in the lobby waiting, Sandy started to text Chris who she thought was at work in Michigan. As she texted away, Chris was walking up the tunnel texting back to her. Sandy was looking down at her text message only to look up at her son looking down at her. I said, “Got ya!” We all started laughing so loud people started looking at us with great curiosity. We laughed all the way back home.

Last Saturday, while I rode Harleys with some friends, Sandy went to our favorite tattoo artist Adrian at Physical Graffiti. She wanted to get 9-11 tattooed next to some red, white and blue roses she had done after that horrible day at the Twin Towers. While she was there, she asked Adrian to tattoo "Mitt" across her ankle. I thought that was a real gesture of love and I started planning another hoax. Last Wednesday, on the way home from work I stopped at Physical Graffiti and had Adrian tattoo "Sandy" across my ankle. On the way home I called Sandy and told her that I had cut myself at work on a stack of ceramic tiles and that I would need help re-bandaging the wound when I got home. The tat was on the opposite leg right above my work boot line. I acted casual and took my time bringing in my lunch pail and paperwork. I finally made my way to the bathroom after taking my boots off and asked my wife if she could get the bandage off for me. She took scissors and carefully cut off the tape, unwrapped the gauze slowly only to discover a new tattoo with her name in bold, black color. “Got ya, wifey!” I laughed – she cried and we both hugged each other tightly.

This is the kind of stuff that makes life so worth living, even when the world around us seems lost in insanity. When I leave the planet, I know it will be sad because it has been such a wild, wonderful ride, but you can bet I will find a way to make even that day funny!

Write on,

Mittster

I Made a Mistake

2011-10-26T23:55:00.004-07:00

“I made a mistake” is four of the hardest words to speak, but I have cut it down to just two words; “Yes dear.” For some, saying yes dear is like pulling eyeteeth. For me saying yes dear is like letting honey flow from by lips. If it is your wife you are saying it to the fight is over before it even started. If it is a girlfriend, her clothes fall instantly to the floor. If it is a guy you say it to, laughter breaks out (unless he is robbing you and then shoots you in the brain (or worse) for coming on to him). There are instances where silence is better. In any case, admitting to mistakes takes guts, but the rewards are always better than blaming someone else.

As a young guy, I always blamed my identical twin brother when I screwed up, and he did likewise. For instance, there was the time when my brother used my hunting license and shot a deer in a game reserve. Or the time I used his drivers license when I got a ticket for almost knocking a California HP off his motorcycle because I had my surfboard crammed sideways through the back windows of my car. Man was that cop pissed. “But, officer, I was in a hurry; surf’s up!” Fortunately, it was only a short period of time before I got my driver’s license back because I turned 18. My brother had to wait too. The Highway Patrolman tore his license up on the spot!

One time my twin and I blamed the Feeney brothers who lived at the next ranch for smoking in the barn after dad found our stash of matches and Pall Malls that mom smoked. He drove us up to the Feeneys’ ranch house with us being bumped up and down in the back of his pickup only to find out that we all had been smoking in the barn. This time we did not get spanked because we were too busy barfing everywhere. I didn’t touch another cigarette for 25 years.

The worst time was when my twin used my driver’s license and showed it to the Dad of a girl he had met a week earlier in high school. When he picked her up for a drive-in movie date, the father wanted to make sure he had a license to drive. Later in the evening brother and daughter got cozy and she became pregnant. You should have seen the look on my mother’s face when she got the call that I knocked up someone’s teenage daughter. In fact, you should have seen the look on my face when she slapped it. Brother heard the screaming from mom and high-tailed it out the back door. Of course, the real culprit was discovered later and the shotgun wedding went off without a hitch. In this case saying, “I made a mistake,” wouldn’t change anything.

I like to think that now I can admit to mistakes openly and freely. I can even admit to the mistakes of others if the situation warrants it. Sometimes you can defuse problems quickly by using broad shoulders to help someone else save face. Besides, they then owe you free lunches for a week. I’m not talking McDs’…I’m talking Pizza Hut for sure!

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Bad Habit # 333

2011-10-25T04:45:00.001-07:00

I am really trying to not get up at three a.m. anymore. I finished my first two novels, Evil in the Mirror and Day Stalker, and the third one, The Phoenix Code, is on the shelf because I am now working as a consultant for a construction company from Hawaii.

Even though my passion is writing, it was time to refurbish the coffers until I retire yet again and pick up where I left off. My problem is that for two years while writing murder mysteries, I would get up no later than three a.m. and most times earlier. By two p.m. I would be ready to lie down for the day. Well, I can’t do that anymore – The Islands are three hours behind our time. When the team in Hawaii gets geared up for their day, I’m nodding off at my desk!

It’s a good thing I still enjoy working with spreadsheets and calculations or this gig could be the straw that broke the old camel’s back. The truth be known, working for this company is very exciting and I look forward to each day. I did mention to my wife that this will be my last hurrah, and then I will retire from construction for real. That comment was bull poop and I knew it…I will quit after they lay my worn-out carcass to rest.

I am grateful this opportunity came my way while we are suffering from the deepest worldwide recession I have ever seen, to say nothing of the natural disasters that have been plaguing the world right and left. Sometimes it is good to step back and be thankful for what we have, instead of worrying about what we think we should have. I am blessed with a fantastic family, a roof over our heads and food to eat. The rest is just icing on the cake.

In the meanwhile, I was again out of bed at exactly three a.m. with my wife’s parting word ringing in my head, “Idiot!”

She’s just saying,

Mittster

"Newbie Writing Club"

2011-10-24T05:24:00.000-07:00

As I worked with my publisher on my first and second novels, it became more evident that the first time, wanna be writers will have a daunting task ahead. I look back at all the wasted time and money I spent trying to self-publish, print, store, distribute and build Websites for two small self-help books (thinking all along I could do it by myself) only to discover it was the wrong approach.

Let’s face it, I got caught up in the Internet hype…Let me show you how to make millions on the Internet! Beware my friends; it’s really just the start of a bad trip down Internet fantasy land. After two years of trial, error and frustration beyond belief, there are really only three simple answers that spell success. Research, research, and more research! I absolutely recommend starting in the public library unless you are very, very Internet savvy. It’s free, simple and won’t empty your wallet. Everything you can buy on line is free in the library! Yes, it is time consuming, but for the budget minded, a perfect solution. The problem with researching on line is that everything has a price tag unless you know where to look and knowing where to look also takes time and can cost a boatload of bucks and a computer full of viruses.

The big question is; can I self-publish my novel without spending money? The answer is basically, NO! The good news is that you can publish with a moderate budget. If you are thinking about using a POD (print on demand) publisher, research is so very important. I researched for many months looking for that perfect combination and finally found it with Wheatmark, Inc. based in Tucson, Arizona. While they were perfect for me, that does not mean they will be perfect for you. Remember; research, research and more research!

For those of you who are serious about writing that first book and joining the “newbie club,” don’t hesitate to e-mail me if you need help finding your way. The only time I charge for advice is if we are on Skype learning how to actually write that first novel. E-mail conversations are for free advice; sometimes I need help too and I don’t hesitate to ask my author friends for their advice via e-mails.

I can tell you one thing for sure. The excitement of seeing your first book on Amazon.com will blow your mind. In fact, so much so that you will need to sit down. Seeing the second book is even more exciting. I actually needed an attitude adjustment because my already large head turned into the Goodyear blimp! My wife deflated my head quickly by reminding me that now I needed to sell the books. Oh, I forgot about that….

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Well, Tweet My Twitter!

2011-10-21T04:03:00.000-07:00

As the title implies, I love talking dirty to myself. In reality though, I thought I would write a few comments about Twitter and how it has impacted my Web Life. Yes, I said, Web Life. You know, the place everyone reading this blog lives to the chagrin of everyone else who lives in boring reality.

As suggested by my publisher, my book promotions are centered around three Websites: Twitter, Facebook and a Website dedicated to my books. Facebook is certainly the most fun, whereas the Website is just a showcase. Twitter is mostly serious, which took some getting used to. Nothing much funny going on there - just people trying to be noticed by somebody who is somebody. In Twitterland, the nobodies prevail, but occasionally somebody will surface who has thousands and thousands of followers. I am trying to be one of those people.

I Tweet my Blog on Twitter everyday (there I go getting dirty again. Sorry!), and I have about 600 or so followers - mostly writers, publishers and an assortment of weirdos like myself. The trick is to get people interested in what you have to offer. I obviously haven't learned the trick yet, but if I am one thing, it's persistent! In theory, the harder you try at something, the better chance you have of succeeding. The reality may be different, but I keep moving forward no matter the weight on my shoulders.

Also, in theory, Twitter can connect you with the elite and powerful. My problem is that I wouldn't know what to say if or when I did meet them. Well, that's not quite accurate; I did have a short connection with Anne Rice, but she didn't offer to introduce me to her publisher. Perhaps she tired of my platitudes and idol worship. After all, she is my favorite author.

After the holidays are over, I plan to have a video made and submit it to YouTube featuring my books Evil in the Mirror and Day Stalker. I look at it this way - why not make my Web experience even more exciting by having four places to live!

I'm just saying,

Mittster

Aye, Robot!

2011-10-20T05:55:00.000-07:00

Yes, I am feeling like a robot these days. Yes, dear – no, dear – yes, sir – no, sir – yes, son – no daughter…you get the idea. It seems like women have all the power and men just roam the bushes, gathering food by working for someone who takes advantage of the economic downturn and works us like dogs with little pay and no gratitude.

It’s the same around the house too. Honey dos up the kazoo; kids wanting the car keys and clothes all the time. “Good grief, give me a break; when I was your age….” Speaking of cars, you would think a teenager would use their allowance and put some fuel in the tank once in a while; although I suppose twenty bucks doesn’t go that far when it comes to gas.

What is it about teenage appetites these days? I swear there is no bottom to their stomachs. Two teenage kids can literally eat you out of house and home. I see them eat like piranhas and one hour later they are back robbing the fridge. It’s no wonder I don’t go the store with the wife shopping for food. I couldn’t handle the sticker shock!

And, what is it about the cost of high school? I thought public education was free. If I had a nickel for every time one of the kids hit me up for shoes, designer clothes and a boatload of other stuff, I could retire right now. We even have to pay for books. “When I was in high school….”

I especially hate Friday nights. This is when my wallet takes a real hit. I dole out the money for the boy to go cruising with his buddies in our car (Doesn’t one of his friends have a car?), while daughter bats her eyelashes, smiles, and my heart melts down into my wallet for whatever is left after boy shakes me down. This all happens while wifey sits in her TV chair and grins like Cheshire cat. Talk about conspiracy – this takes the cake.

Man, I just don’t know what the world is coming to now-a-days.

Mitt Winstead – 1975

Holy cow, I can’t imagine how parents are making it in the 21 Century!

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Natural Writing Talent

2011-10-18T05:15:00.000-07:00

I really don't like the idiot's guide to this, that or the other thing. Not because it is demeaning and politically incorrect, but rather because it's too far to the left to describe me. Dolt fits me rather nicely. Although, I do have some pride; it's Mr. Dolt to you! Stay away from self-help books; they only help the pocket book of the authors. Your best bet is Google and the public library. Both are free, which is a good thing.

Since today's blog is about writing a novel, I will get on with it.

1. Screw what anyone has ever told you about writing. You can write and be a dolt at the same time. Most readers in the world are at the ninth grade level. This means your book does not need a genius writing it and in fact, less education can mean a great novel written from the heart and not the mind.

2. If I can write a novel, even Alfred E. Newman can write one.

3. Author newbies can't make any money writing. This is true, but in today's economy, you can't make any money anyway. At least you can be creative while eating peanut butter and jelly sammies.

4. There are no conventional publishers that will take on your book. This is also true, but you can sell gold jewelry and hire a POD (Publish on Demand) publisher. I personally recommend Wheatmark, Inc.

5. If you are passionate about your desire to write a book, the book will magically appear on Amazon.com. This is false, but if you work half as hard writing your book as you did trying to figuring out reasons why you can't write, it will appear on Amazon.com and your pride level will top out in the stratosphere.

6. Your book idea will be so good that other people will promote it. False again; you will be promoting your books until you leave the planet. Writing and promoting are your job, but not to worry, both are fun, especially when you sign your first book for your first customer!

7. How do you actually start writing a book? It's easy; write one word, then two, then a sentence. Sit back and read your first sentence. Write other sentences until you have a paragraph. Sit back and read your first paragraph. Keep writing until you have a chapter. Once you have a chapter, sit back and read it. If it excites you no end, keep writing. If you fall asleep, it's all over but the crying. You have just discovered you have no passion and you need to try finger painting. Don't be too worried about mistakes. Proofing and editing can be done by others. If you have no friends to help with fine tuning your book, sell some more gold jewelry. You’re going to need the money.

8. There is no way I can figure out how to copyright my book and all the other stuff I see in the pages of other books. Again, not to worry...the POD publisher will handle all the technical stuff. Great, one less reason for you to procrastinate; now get cracking writing your book!

9. When you run out of gold jewelry to sell, there is always your first born. Never give up or give in – there are worse ways not to earn a living.

10. Writing can be addictive; don't start unless you really like the high!

Write on,

Mittster

The Other Side

2011-10-17T05:33:00.000-07:00

I copied a little ditty from Facebook last week concerning all the press attention the death of Steve Jobs was getting while our service men and women are being killed and wounded in Afghanistan and Iraq with little or no attention from the press. I readily clicked “like”; reposted, and went on my merry way without really thinking the situation through to the other side.

Without people like Steve Jobs who pioneered computing as we know it today, our fighting men and women would still be in the technology dark ages and dying at a much faster rate than we now see happening. That is not to say Americans dying in war is a good thing; what it does (in my mind) say is that many have not died because of computer technology that would otherwise be missing if it were not for the efforts of computer geeks like Mr. Jobs.

We live in a techno world which is expanding faster than the speed of light; and in fact, information in new atom computers will travel faster than light because there will be no space or time to slow them down. Our world is about to change into technologies unheard of just ten years ago.

I salute Steven Jobs as an American patriot who spent his lifetime pursuing the impossible and improbable while coming up with technologies that have and will continue to benefit mankind for decades to come. Every technology a soldier holds in his hands to communicate with his team in real time has a part of Steve Jobs inside. Yes, there are many more names that should be included, but they still live to invent even better technologies. They will just have to wait their turn for praise. Meanwhile, thank you, Mr. Jobs, for a life very well done!

Write on,

Mittster

Not for fuddy duddys!

2011-10-16T04:49:00.003-07:00

I can’t believe how quickly funny pictures pile up on my puter. The only thing left to do is pile them up on yours!

Holy crap anywho...enough is enough!

Mittster

Women vs Men

2011-10-15T04:56:00.000-07:00

(You women have no idea how true this is)!

Oil Change instructions for Women:

1. Pull up to GM Dealership when the mileage reaches 3,000 miles since the last oil change.

2. Drink a cup of coffee.

3. 15 minutes later, scan debit card and leave, driving a properly maintained vehicle.
Money spent:
Oil Change:$24.00
Coffee: Complementary

TOTAL: $24.00

Oil Change instructions for Men:

1. Wait until Saturday, drive to auto parts store and buy a case of oil, filter, kitty litter, hand cleaner and a scented tree,and use your debit card for $50.00.

2. Stop by Beer Store and buy a case of beer, (debit $24), drive home

3. Open a beer and drink it.

4. Jack truck up. Spend 30 minutes looking for jack stands.

5. Find jack stands under kid's pedal car.

6. In frustration, open another beer and drink it.

7. Place drain pan under engine.

8. Look for 9/16 box end wrench.

9. Give up and use crescent wrench.

10. Unscrew drain plug.

11. Drop drain plug in pan of hot oil: splash hot oil on you in process. Cuss.

12. Crawl out from under truck to wipe hot oil off of face and arms. Throw kitty litter on spilled oil.

13. Have another beer while watching oil drain.

14. Spend 30 minutes looking for oil filter wrench.

15. Give up; crawl under truck and hammer a screwdriver through oil filter and twist off..

16. Crawl out from under truck with dripping oil filter splashing oil everywhere from holes. Cleverly hide old oil filter among trash in trash can to avoid environmental penalties. Drink a beer.

17. Install new oil filter making sure to apply a thin coat of oil to gasket surface.

18. Dump first quart of fresh oil into engine.

19. Remember drain plug from step 11.

20. Hurry to find drain plug in drain pan.

21. Drink beer.

22. Discover that first quart of fresh oil is now on the floor. Throw kitty litter on oil spill.

23. Get drain plug back in with only a minor spill. Drink beer.

24. Crawl under truck getting kitty litter into eyes. Wipe eyes with oily rag used to clean drain plug. Slip with stupid crescent wrench tightening drain plug and bang knuckles on frame removing any excess skin between knuckles and frame.

25. Begin cussing fit.

26. Throw stupid crescent wrench.

27. Cuss for additional 5 minutes because wrench hit truck and left dent.

28. Beer.

29. Clean up hands and bandage as required to stop blood flow.

30. Beer.

31. Dump in five fresh quarts of oil.

32. Beer.

33. Lower truck from jack stands.

34. Move truck back to apply more kitty litter to fresh oil spilled during any missed steps.

35. Beer.

36. Test drive truck.

37. Get pulled over: arrested for driving under the influence.

38. truck gets impounded.

39. Call loving wife, make bail.

40. 12 hours later, get truck from impound yard.

Money spent:

Parts: $50.00
DUI: $2,500.00
Impound fee: $75.00
Bail: $1,500.00
Beer: $20.00

TOTAL: $4,145.00

But you know the job was done right!

I'm just saying,

Mittster