Friday, April 27, 2012



At the end of our last episode, as you will recall, Theodore killed Junior in a fit of indifference.

"The SIFOTS urban renewal project came to an abrupt end, when Theodore crushed Junior with his backhoe. Theodore is in jail awaiting arraignment for Reckless Homicide. The wake for Junior will be held at Happy Acres. Bring your own weapons."


That was last episode, so now we're all in the same page, and on it, too, I might add. It's easier right now to type explanations than it is to backspace. But, I digress.



It was a beautiful night in SIFOTS-ville. The tiny town was bathed in a soft light, the kind of light one might see when living behind the local family-owned convenience store. Light that is not exactly luminescent, but just lights up the back wall and  SIFOTS-villeSIFOTS-ville is located on and around our front porch: 

I took about 4 of these; this is the best of the lot 

Anyway, the locals are still a-buzz about the Theodore and Junior thing, but they're rapidly being diverted by the house that burned down one block north of SIFOTS-ville and the two accidents that occurred within days of each other at the intersection of Nebraska Avenue and Floribraska Avenue.

Just an aside. What in hell kind of name is "Floribraska?" I find this unimaginative and somehow vaguely plagiarism-like. I'm surprised we don't have a "Michida" Boulevard, "Wisifornia" Street and "Georginois" Lane. People aren't confused enough here in Tampa, I guess.

So, we are still all a-gog and a-tilt at the passing of Junior, but this seems to be just a portent. There have been ominous signs indeed, that things are changing here in SIFOTS-ville.

Tonight, we've been out looking at the night sky. For once, we can see the actual stars instead of klieg lights from above. The police helicopters have not been hovering with search lights lately, as the felons skip gaily from back yard to back yard, and baying hounds are heard in the distance. Things have been quiet here... Or have they?

All is pretty and quiet; peace abounds

Consternation and screaming ensue. Panic and pandemonium, as the sky (and trees?) begin to melt, or the picture-taker has a fit...

Wild horses (singular) run through SIFOTS-ville

She bows down to her God, Mr. Ed

Okay, so she's a plastic horse and there's only one of her, and there's a scrape in her side; she's still a harbinger of death. A psychopomp, if you will. Come to escort us to that Underworld, where crappy sitcoms go into syndication or $1.00 carload, double-billed, grade-Z horrors; at the "renovated" or "old" drive-in movie theaters... forever.

"Angelique," as she wishes to be known (we learn this telepathically) decides to stop and play a little croquet.

M'kay; you're doing it wrong, plastic horse. We are no longer so terrified

She quickly wields her mallet with stunning expertise, shocking all who watch. Her malevolent gaze (ok, it's the same blah stare she's had since she was molded) rakes over us. We just notice that it's daylight. 

Is this magic? Is it a time-warp continuum? Is it because the mallet and ball were just found and brought home by JC today, thereby giving me some shred of hope for anything resembling a plot, albeit a slim one??

The rockets begin to land, bringing forth their deadly cargo

Forward they come; determined to engulf us in their bright, screaming flamingo pink hues, Hell-bent on conquering Florida, or SIFOTS-ville, whichever is easier

The Horror! Ahh!

More Horror!!! Argh!!!!

And More blah.... blah.... blah...

AIYEEEEE!!!!! ARGGGHHH!!! Residents are swallowed by pinkness!


In the nick of time, the National Guard lands on the curb with their Attack Feline, Herman.
The battle is so ferocious that we cannot bear witness to it. 

Translation: We are lazy and can't come up with anything else epic. What do you expect with no budget, a camera phone, plastic cast-off crap from the street, and no imagination? This isn't Spielberg.

Calm has returned to SIFOTS-ville. Melba and Ruth decide a little fishing with their hairpin poles will help to ease their nerves.


(Credits Roll)

We don't have any more money in our budget for this episode


La la la la, Dee dee dee, Ho Hum


When I was a kid growing up in California, Cal Worthington, Used Car Nabob was everywhere. I saw him first LA, then he showed up as a Midnight Merchant on local San Jose TV. Ol' Cal was probably in San Diego too, but I was too young at the time. He was one of those polyester-suited, comb-overed, buck-toothed, sheistery kind of used car salesmen that everyone loves to denigrate. His suits were always some atrocious pattern, plaids, paisleys, or seashells, in god-awful hues that made your eyes bleed for days on end. 

Anyway, JC has been perusing the used car ads here. I was not aware that there was so much entertainment to be had in these stupid ads. He has kindly given me the best of the crop, so far. I fear... er, I look forward to more of these little jewels.

You'll save at the pump all right, because you will have been hacked to death by irate motorists for driving in the fast lane of I-75 at rush hour

I've heard of "Dealer's Markup," but this is atrocious!

I guess at 6 years and 1 day, it turns into a Yugo?

Well, those are all the delusional ravings I have for you now. I enjoy doing all this nonsense, and I hope you have fun reading this as much as I do putting it together. It's all pretty ad-hoc, if anyone cares to know, which I suspect you don't and really cannot blame you. I know it looks really planned out and all, but surprise! It's not.

Anyway, I'll be back soon with another bunch of SIFOTS, just as soon as we collect some. If any of you have any to share, please send me pics.

A little RS Report coming up; we're all going on a King Black Dragon hunt this weekend. Someone will die; it's usually me.

Love and light,


Tuesday, April 17, 2012



Courtesy, Intrepid Finder, Opal

Sweet dreams aren't made of this...
Who am I to disagree-eeee
I traveled the world of the Seven Seas,
Everybody's looking for something...

(boom-boom-boom, za-za, boom-boom-boom-za-za-za)

Some just want to lose you...
Some just want to be schmoozed by you...
Some just want to accuse you...
Some just want to be seduced...

(repeat 87 times...)

I just couldn't resist this; my roomie Opal dragged this home and I decided it was boffo and I should open with this. There are these "entrepreneurs" who sell these horrible little bootlegged CDs on the street corners. They are usually full of viruses, were recorded on boomboxes, using shitty remixes playing the same annoying three notes with a screaming female in the background, for 18 minutes.  The bass speakers are shredded and these things just generally suck and sound like a dogfight on steroids, A-BOOM-BOOMING!!! Up and down Nebraska they speed, in Abrams A1 Tank-sized, 150K SUVs with pearl paint jobs, that cost about 20k and with light-up wheels that are another 2k. Oh Goody! The Circus is here. 

Anyway those shitty little CDs are 5 bucks, work about 3 times and then croak. So, supply and demand is endless. The enterprising young thugs who make these things have YouTube accounts that are generally shut down, due to some outrage committed on YT. Think about that. How horrible do you have to be to get banned from YouTube?

Anyway, I have a wonderful of  SIFOTS for this post. Let's get to it!

"Ayuh, Hiram; the fishing is sucking here. Let's try the Gulf for a change of pace"

It's a damned shame about "Bertie's Used Cars" on Floribraska Avenue. This was all that was left behind, these battered logos and a purple knee. Even the building was stolen. 

SIFOTS Urban Renewal Project

The construction project to widen and improve the sidewalk began on schedule

It continued apace; SIFOTS urban renewal was becoming a reality, although the equipment was miniaturized briefly, because the picture editor is an idiot

Theodore moved several ounces of SIFOTS, while Junior took a break. The SIFOTS urban renewal project was still moving along with breath-taking rapidity

The SIFOTS urban renewal project came to an abrupt end, when Theodore crushed Junior with his backhoe. Theodore is in jail awaiting arraignment for Reckless Homicide. The wake for Junior will be held at Happy Acres. Bring your own weapons


Anyone who knows me at all, knows I have had an interesting past few years. In fact, I have led an interesting life. Recently, it got even more interesting. I am not one to cringe from anything that might possibly be an affliction, or character trait of mine. I don't believe any condition should be stigmatized. I do take exception to people with illnesses brought on by 40 years of hard-living, but in cases where they have realized they have injured themselves and are trying to live a cleaner life and a longer, happier one, I bear no ill will, do not judge them and will help as I can. My mother died of emphysema after 15 long painful years of suffering; she had smoked for 40 years, but quit on diagnosis. She was a gallant woman; lived to age 70 fully, and I promised her close to her death in 2002, that I too would quit smoking, which I finally did, when I was hospitalized for two months in 2010 with an Organ Recital of deficiencies. I hate Organ Recitals, unless it's Bach, and this ain't.

Anyway, after all the trauma and upheaval since 2004, I felt I was beginning to relax and things were getting better and less... interesting. Wrong.

Briefly, because I really want to move and enjoy the rest of creating this blog, in February, I started blacking out; losing any sense of time. I started forgetting things, and being unable to concentrate. Part of this has been with me for a bit; I do suffer from anxiety and depression, but these symptoms were getting worse. I began to stay up for days and days with no sleep. I began to lose weight. My psych drugs were not slowing me down one bit; I knew I didn't have to wait long for my Psych appointment, so I didn't call my Doctor. I could manage.

Um-hmm. Oh yeah. I had a psychic break; I do not remember March. I was committed under the Baker Act of Florida to a Mental ward in St Joseph's hospital on March 7, came home briefly, went back and was released on March 31, 2012. I was committed not because I was suicidal, but because I was a danger to myself. Long story short, the admitting Psych Doctor released me from the Committal less than 24 hours after I was taken in by the Crisis Center. I did have to stay for the physical part. With proper follow up and care, I will be back to my rotten old self. I have already put on 15 lbs (I was again 88 lbs on discharge,) improved in my mental outlook and thank God, am now on an anti-seizure, bi-polar med. Hooray for better living through chemicals! Just kidding.

I don't believe in keeping this from anyone; hiding pain and fear and weirdness doesn't work. It's great to believe one is having some kind of epiphany, but I was not seeing God or Chthulu. I was delusional; I am mentally ill, bi-polar and have some neurological problems. My friend Holly, who lived at Happy Acres with me has dealt with this all her life. What a relief to talk with her about this and have her tease me. My psych teases me, now. He's a great doctor Thank God for my JC and Opal. If my two angels had not been here and I had been alone, I don't believe I would have lived. They helped care for me, until I got so bad, JC had no choice but to call the Crisis Center. I love him dearly and am so lucky to have him. Opal is a wonder and we're a family; we were all alone. Now, we're not! So, that's how I celebrated Mental Health Month. I understand today, April 17th is Stress Awareness Day; I'm passing on observing that one. Heh.


Well, a house burned down about a block north of here this morning, across from the Checkers. No one seems to know about it, but there were lots of fire trucks and some police. Stay tuned for breaking news on this.

Four people were hauled off to TGH from Happy Acres over the weekend. The HA "enforcer" was off getting drunk, on a weekend, when it's most dangerous there, so it's Business As Usual at HA. Naturally, this means it is time for a hoe-down, or "ho-down" as it's known over at HA. This was followed by the annual Knife Fights and RiverDance Stomp. I guess a good time was had by all. You can always tell how much fun there was by the number of bodies the ambulances haul away.

Ho-earrings; they are all over the place. I don't even want to think about how the gals (and some guys) lose them

I really really hope  Vlad ČšepeČ™  hasn't left the Salvation Army Shelter and moved into this neighborhood. He's gonna have trouble competing for minions if he has

Alrighty, then... One reason why the nation is full of idiots. While trying to find anything about the fire this morning, lookee at what I found! Maybe SETI@home got crossed with Faux News... or not

Okay, enough of this chin-wag for now. I am attempting to assert limits on my blogs, per the Google Creativity project. I'm getting better, *snort.*

More in a few days; I have some more faboo stuff to share! Thanks, JC and so much love from my whole being. You fill my life with light and you find wonderful SIFOTS. I love you! 

Opal, you know you are the best, in my eyes. Thanks for your love and fun. Also, thanks for the SIFOTS from your travels.

Fearless readers, thank you for each and every one of you. You do care and I have felt the love and concern from you all. The vectors for socialization have changed for me, but not the inherent love, humor, wisdom and challenges. Take care and see you soon! <3