A treat for you now, Dear Reader…

*I know! …/claps hands…*

… Cade has sent through another missive, detailing an unexpected invitation and a visit a cemetery… Enjoy! 😀

*******

WHAZZUP?!?!?!?!???

^twenty one pilots: Stressed Out [OFFICIAL VIDEO]^

Was just cruising Craigslist for jobs.

Was just thinking.

I spend $24 a week on snuff/tobacco.

DUDE! That’s $96 a month that you, as an unemployed loser, would have in your pocket if you stopped chewing tobacco.

Q: What about those 30 days? Where would they be?

A: ???

30 days time 24 hours = 720 hours.

720 hours = 43,200 minutes.

Q: What’s your time worth to you?

A: ?¿?

Q: Since when did my time become your time?

A: ¿?¿

Q: Does that make your time my time?

A: ¿¿¿

Got the time?

^Depeche Mode – Policy Of Truth [Beat Box Mix]^

I actually wrote the above thought last week. Today is Wednesday June 21st. It’s 08:45 in the morning on an extremely blue day.

The Crepe Myrtles are blooming like crazy. Two pinks, and two purples. One of the purples is so ridiculously deep, I shake the tree slightly so that some of the blooms will fall among the grass, and the purple contrasts with the green that is absolutely beautiful in the bright sun. Hell, it’s beautiful on an overcast day as well. It almost glows. Whodathunk that a deep purple and a deep green would contrast on a cloudy day to create something that glows?

Anyway, across the street, there are neighbors that have some of these same trees that are various reds, and further down, there are some whites, a blue. When they come out…the entire street looks absolutely stunning. I mean, yeah…it’s still the ghetto

…full of illegal immigrants,

white trash,

niggers,

terrorists,

drug addicts,

unemployed losers who are sucking the government tit dry

and other various assorted hood-rats...

but not everyone can be you.

^Information Society – What’s On Your Mind (Pure Energy) (Club Mix)^

So…dude…why are you writing…yet again…instead of shutting the FUCK up and leaving?

Things change mang and/or mangette.

Such as…yesterday, I received an unexpected phone call. Yeah, all phone calls I receive are unexpected, but this one was from my mother. Yesterday was my younger sister’s birthday, and I had texted her earlier to wish her an HBD, so I figure that her and my mother prolly spoke and there was a comment to the effect of…

“Junebug texted me to wish me a happy birthday…do ya’ll ever talk?”

…hence

…big mamma called me.

But it gets weird from there.

^The Terminator Theme (1984) Live Cover^

I dropped by CFrank Davis’ new Smoky-Drinky chatroom and irritated the fuck out of everyone with my spitting and ugly-assed face. I didn’t even think about it until Frank made a recording of it…at which point I realized that the mic from my headset is right by my goddamn pie-hole, and I’m spitting into a cup. I must admit that the reverb was/is amazing.

Lolz

Anyway…watching that guy play the theme from The Terminator movie in the video above, and thinking about telling people what they can and cannot do…it got me to thinking about things that we do that we may not realize that we do. Especially if it is something that we do that someone else does NOT do, or maybe even something that they also do…they just do it differently.

Spitting…for example. Everyone spits at some point.

OH! You don’t?

Quick Observation: It says RIGHT FUCKING THERE on the toothpaste tube label…’Do not swallow’.

You might wanna read the label, chief.

The short being…yeah…I guess you do spit afterall.

I spit quite a bit, and not just because I chew tobacco. Meaning: I spit a lot, and don’t drink much. I will sometimes keep snuff in my mouth most of the day, and do not drink while I have a wad of tobacco in my mouth.

But then again…I have difficulty with swallowing. My mouth and throat are pretty much devoid of much of the machinery that aids with the mastication and swallowing process(es)…but you wouldn’t know that…would you? I mean, why would you? You’re only worried about my spit when in comes out. You couldn’t give a shit about any of my difficulties, so long as they are “my difficulties” and not “your difficulties.”

^Level 42 – Something About You – Razormaid ( Remastered )^

Just thinking about how to better describe elements as facilitators of energy, and not so much as sources of energy, in the way we like to think of them. Reason being is that I see the creation of large tympanic/temp-panic types of membranes at points of collision, within some of these reactions, that are being generated by high energy machines.

And I'm not just talking about colliders and/or accelerators, nor even explosive devices. 

And what I have been seeing more and more is a 4-pointed star embedded within a torus. I think what is being missed, is that for every calculation “inside” as to the resulting set and sets, is the calculations “outside”, that make the resulting set and sets calculations inside…possible. Not trying to be vague there, but I have no idea how else to describe it.

For every single calculation set for a specified purpose, is a coexisting secondary set that makes the calculation of the first set possible.

Layers. Does that help?

^Trentemøller: Moan (Official music video)^

MA: I was going to drive and and visit your uncle’s grave this afternoon. You wanna ride along?

CADE: Sure.

MA: Really?!?!? You do?!?!?

CADE: Yesssss….

MA: Well…um…ok…that’s…good. Are you dressed?

CADE: No. I’m sitting here naked.

MA: …

CADE: Yes mother…I am in fact…dressed/wearing clothes.

MA: OK…well…um…I’m still getting dressed and putting my makeup on.

CADE: Just tell me a time, and I’ll be ready.

It’s about 20 miles out to the cemetery where he is buried. She said that she had not been out to visit in a while, and also needed to check as to the location of 4 additional plots that she owns in this particular cemetery, as she is going to sell them.

CADE: These 4 plots are not currently occupied…right?

MA: They better not be.

I had my smartass on the whole way out there, and we laughed and cutup at the usual stupidity and ridiculousness of life. She couldn’t remember which road to exit on, so every single road that passed, she was SURE that we had missed the exit.

CADE: You know mom…that’s the good thing about panic. It teaches us how not to.

MA: I’M NOT PANICKING!!!

CADE: Whatever you say.

MA: <laughs>

CADE: At every exit missed, there is another exit down the line. We can turn around.

MA: Actually, I think it’s further up. I don’t think we’ve missed the exit.

CADE: Well, if we have missed the exit, at least there’s been no shortage of exits we’ve missed.

MA: I was just really surprised that you wanted to come out here with me.

CADE: Why is that?

MA: I don’t know. I just figured you wouldn’t want to come.

CADE: So what are you planning on doing out here today with these 4 grave sites you own? Are you gonna put up a sign that says “COMING SOON!!!” or something?

MA: <laughs>…noooooo…I just want to know where they are. I don’t know where they are. I want to be able to advertise where they are.

CADE: Sounds like a good policy to have with respect to unoccupied graves that potentially could have your name on them…not knowing where they are.

MA: We bought them, me and your father did, to have in the event that someone died and had no place to be buried.

CADE: Smart thinking. I’m glad they remain open and unoccupied.

I sure hope that I personally have not been a disappointment in that regard.

^Boston 168 – Oblivion [ODDEVEN004]^

The conversation in this Smoky-Drinky chatroom has been quite good, I think. I prefer to listen more than speak, but yeah…damned interesting stuff. Lots of people trying to figure shit out. But I have noticed lots of numbers being used within the context of certain scopes. Percentages. Odds. Averages. Lotta columns to think about there. I wonder if they’ll stand? LET’S SEE!!!

1 = 1.

 500,000 = 1.

 73% = 1.

        27% = 1.

       100% = 1.

        1 v 1

Yep...that's all there is.

Mystery = WHATEVER! Let’s Us Continue, Eh?

^ROYKSOPP – What Else Is There (trentemoller remix)^

We spent about 30 minutes wandering through the cemetery in the hot afternoon sun looking for my uncle’s grave. Watching my mom hobble around on her bum foot eventually got to be too much for me, and I suggested maybe that she wander her hobbly-footed ass back to the car, drive up to the information center, and they should be able to point us to within 1/2 mile or so of his approximate location. Not that I minded wandering through the cemetery. I read many of the names aloud as I read and pondered the lives that lay before my feet.

Many years, and many miles traveled. Many promises of “together forever” on many of these tombstones. However, I started to notice a trend of many “side-by-side” types of graves, that one side had an “occupied” and one side had a “reserved”, that appeared as tho it was always going to remain empty. There was a name and a birth date, but no death date. I started to crunch some numbers in my head, based on the birth dates, odds of still living, odds of remarrying or finding someone else in life, and then started to make mental notes as to just how many of these spaces there were…and there were a LOT of them. An unusually high amount of them considering the smallness of this particular cemetery.

I guess maybe we do stumble across others sometimes in life. I don’t think that is a bad thing. Then again, I just celebrated 2 months of being divorced. Not that I am looking for anyone, but I am certainly not NOT looking…just…whatever or something.

/shrug

^Get Far – Shining Star (OFFICIAL VIDEO)^

So…my dad is a Leo, mom = Taurus.

Dad born on 8-8, older sister died on 8-8.

There are 365 days in a year. What are the odds that a daughter dies on the same day her father was born? What if they both died of cancer? What the FUCK does cancer have to do with someone’s birthday?

I just remember how cold it was the day that we buried my uncle back in 1999. He died on Elvis Presley’s birthday…January 8th. Weird considering that my uncle was a HUGE Elvis fan. He had loads of rock-n-roll records from the 1950’s, and played a large role in introducing me to music from that period of time, when most of my other musical relatives had moved on to The Who, The Beatles and Pink Floyd. I personally like music from the 1960’s and early 1970’s…but I also hate it. I attribute most of the music from that period…not to love…but to violence.

Q: I wonder how much information weighs?

A: SAY FUCKING WHAT?!?!?!?!?

Yeah…I wonder how much information weighs. Gotta keep that contextual, since we are entities residing in gravity. Or, at least, residing within an arc of gravity that makes gravity a little more contextually pertinent, applicable and tangible.

^The Prodigy – Funky Shit (All Out Remix)^

MA: You are?!?!?

CADE: Yeah. Leaving next Monday. Whatshername is driving up to Oklahoma to go gambling, and I’ve asked her if she would drop me in Gainsville on her way up.

MA: Where are you going?

CADE: West.

MA: Do you have somewhere to go?

CADE: Yeah…west.

Ma: I mean…do you have somewhere to stay? A job opportunity?

CADE: Just looking. I wanna drop by Vernon and say hi to Granny before I head out further west. I may even head by Frederick since I’ve never been back there.

MA: Junior…I’ve been planning a trip to Vernon and Frederick for some time.

CADE: You have?

MA: Yes. I’m writing my memoirs. “So-and-so” and her daughter still live in Vernon, and they’ve been pestering me for some time to come and visit.

CADE: Oh really? I didn’t know she was still alive. Her daughter is about my age isn’t she?

MA: No, I think she was your older sister’s age.

CADE: Ah. Well…I seem to remember her now. Her husband is the one that had every disease known to mankind isn’t he?

MA: Yes. They did all kinds of testing and treatments and radical new therapy types on him.

CADE: He was a State Trooper as I recall.

MA: Until he couldn’t meet the physical requirements. Then county sheriff. Local police.

CADE: Anyone that would take him within his profession/trade and skill set.

We always had a lot of law enforcement types in and around our family. Lots of guns, lots of former military, lots of crazy stories. Prolly why I liked that movie “No Country For Old Men” so much. It’s setting in time brings back a lot of memories of violence in a violent time. Weird time for a kid to grow up in. Lots of movements and moving, lots of clashes and clashing.

^The Prodigy – Funky Shit Perplex Version^

CADE: OH SHIT!!! I FORGOT ABOUT THAT!!!

MA: Yeah…she was next in line for the inheritance, and she never had any children of her own. All of her children were adoptive children from her husband who already had children, got divorced, then remarried you great-aunt.

CADE: OMG!!! lolz…and all of the adopted children got all of the money, and all of the “family” children were left with nothing. lolz…I had COMPLETELY forgotten about that!!!

MA: There was a lot of turmoil. Lots of bitterness.

CADE: The kids of the kids felt that she should be excluded, because she had no children “of her own.” And if she died…

MA: All rights and monies died with her, and all rights and future monies became property of the corporation.

CADE: I remember all of that bickering and fighting.

MA: Do you remember that money I gave you a few years ago?

CADE: Wasn’t it like…$1,200? No…wait…

MA: I think each one of the children got a little under $400 each. It was a little under $1,200 total.

Cade: Yeah…that’s right. I remember that. It wasn’t much, but we needed it and it was welcome.

MA: I think that your great-aunt was getting somewhere around $100,000 every 3 years from the oil company.

CADE: That’s not very much considering what the oil companies were making.

MA: That’s still a lot of money.

Cade: Yeah…but so what. It’s all gone.

Not much of a trickle down from those who came before me. And yeah, it would have been cool to have a check for 5 billion dollars to suddenly appear in the mail. But I’m looking at the legacy aspect from a perspective that many don’t share. Which is weird, considering sharing is always on the minds of those who want me to share THEIR opinion and views on things. I mean, I see your point. I see your opinion. I understand it. I just do not agree that you opinion is right for me personally. Do you REALLY not see the irony in what you are asking of me, and yet refusing to give/provide in return?

MA: You know…she was a “black sheep.”

CADE: No she wasn’t. She wasn’t an actual <family name withheld>…she married into the family.

MA: No…she didn’t.

CADE: That’s what she told me when I spoke to her. Hell…I met her online, and contacted her via email to help her fill in some of the gaps in the family tree she was building online.

MA: Well…it turns out that she was an honest to goodness <family name withheld>…but she was…um…

CADE: A bastard?

MA: <sheepishly> The result of an extra-marital affair.

CADE: HOLY SHIT!!! That’s AWESOME!!! It all makes fucking sense now!!! THAT’S why she was so fucking interested in her “married-into side” of the family!!! It WAS her family…but they rejected her!!! SHE’S THE OTHER BLACK SHEEP!!!

MA: She’s dead now.

CADE: <thinking silently to self> No she isn’t. ❤

Thanks for everything you told me <name withheld>…I will do all I can to carry that information well.

^The Prodigy – Funky Shit (Mulder Exclusive Mix)^

CADE: So…mom…how does it feel to be 80 years ancient?

MA: You know that your aunt is 80 today?

CADE: OMG!!! I forgot that her and <sister’s name withheld> shared a birthday.

MA: She’s 80 today.

CADE: Doesn’t look a day under 130.

MA: <laughs> When have you seen her?

CADE: lolz…20 years ago?

MA: Her husband has Alzheimer’s you know.

CADE: I did not know that. Or maybe I just don’t remember. <har>

MA: And so-and-so has dementia. He still works as an attorney…but he has dementia. And so-and-so and their kids live up north now. They all play music.

CADE: That’s cool.

MA: You know that so-and-so and her family are here in Dallas now.

CADE: How in the hell would I know that? I don’t talk to anyone/no one talks to me.

MA: You don’t ever check the web?

CADE: I’ve not been on my Facebook page in years. No one cares. And that’s OK. Everyone has their own lives /shrug

MA: Oh…they do to care.

CADE: Weird. You know…I’m stupid…so…there’s that.

MA: You aren’t stupid. You are like your father…smart, have a big heart, and funny.

CADE: Um…how many sons do you have. Cause I KNOW you aren’t talking about me.

MA: I only have one son…SON…and that’s you.

CADE: Lucky you. Thanks for the compliments mom ❤

MA: Are you really leaving? What are you gonna do?

CADE: Mom…I cannot tell you what I don’t know. I also cannot tell you what I DO know over the course of a few sentences, any better or more thoroughly than I’ve already done. I’ve been planning this departure for quite some time. I have no answers for you.

MA: I don’t understand how you expect to survive.

CADE: Neither do I. BUT!!! I do expect to survive regardless of the how’s. I’ll figure it out.

MA: Can I hug you?

CADE: No.

We hugged, I told her to keep me posted on her Vernon trip, let me know before Monday.

MA: Why is she dropping you off in Gainsville?

CADE: Because I don’t want to be walking on the fucking psychopathic highways and byways of Dallas fucking Texas, and get murdered by a fucking car…again. The further I can get away from Dallas…the better.

MA: OK.

She handed me a $20 bill, which I accepted.

It was a great time.

I am thankful for it.

^depeche mode – the things you said (1987)^

So…we’ve got a big-assed membrane that somehow develops in an area proximate to where there are certain..erm…goings on…if you will.

Q: How does something…just…materialize?!?!?!?

A: Gee...I dunno. How does something just...materialize?

Anyway…yeah…when you start getting angular and less “3-dimensional” in a 7-dimensional space…suddenly…you can have energies traversing HUGE distances in some extremely short periods of time. Vast distances, at ridiculous speeds, that make absolutely no sense whatsoever within the frameworks of your theories, laws, and calculations.

Q: Seeing a trend yet?

A: ?!?!?

I’m just wondering how in the FUCK you expect me to talk specifics in a space such as the one that we are currently occupying. YEAH DUMBASS!!! THIS BLOCK OF SPACE RIGHT FUCKING HERE!!! HOW IN THE FUCK CAN I CRAM THE MECHANICS OF ALL EXISTENCE INTO THIS SPACE RIGHT…FUCKING…HERE?!?!?!?! I have no idea what your questions are. The best I can do, is forgo questions in their entirety, and tell you what I know. As a result … yeah … generalities … and a fucking FUCKTON of them.

EX: Do you like to fuck?

Me neither.

Let’s fuck and see what we can do to remedy this fucking issue with respect to not enjoying something that prolly should be enjoyable.

I’ll try and be good at it.

Hell…we may even like it.

😛

(no promises tho)

^ATTLAS – I Need You More^

Chances.

Chances…and taking them.

What are the odds?

Keep them in the 1 v 1 realms, and suddenly, the odds go out the fucking window.

50/50 = 1 v 1

Q: Which one do you want?

A: …

^ATTLAS Bloom EP: Overture^

If you want assurances and surety…I suggest you go take a piss.

Q: Did the urine land where you directed it?

A: ???

I doubt that any of it wound up on the ceiling unless you specifically and intentionally directed it there. There may have been some small bits that may have not gone EXACTLY where you wanted them to go…but wasn’t there toilet paper available to deal with these?

Which…that reminds me of something I once saw written on a bathroom wall above a urinal…

No matter how, you shake and dance…

The last two drops, are going in your pants.

Yeah…the fact that you have a bathroom/toilet to piss in, and that bathroom is located within a house that allows you the privacy to piss in privacy that is extra extra private and secure? Good for you. I hope everything comes out OK. 😉

^Lane 8 – Fingerprint^

This new wrinkle of my mother writing her memoirs and planning a trip along the some of same lines that I am about to travel…puts a fucking knot in my head.

She offered to drive me there. Asked me if I wanted to tag along on her trip. Which I wouldn’t mind doing…but I have no idea when she is planning to go. I had no idea that she quit her job as church pianist two months ago. But then again, why would I? We don’t talk much on the phone…and when we do…it’s all about assurances and plans and planning and planning for the future, and being better prepared and all kinds of shit that doesn’t always jibe with me in the way that she thinks it should. I mean…what in the FUCK am I going to do with some giant pile of money when I am 70 years old, and too busted up and fucked up to spend it in a way that was enjoyable?

That was the point in saving it…right? So you could retire, relax, and enjoy the good life? Well…what about all of that shit that you missed while preparing to enjoy life?

MA: I was a terrible mother.

CADE: Um…no you weren’t.

MA: Yes I was. I was a witch. Violent and angry.

CADE: You aren’t now.

MA: But I was then.

CADE: Then isn’t now.

MA: I know that, but that doesn’t change what I was.

CADE: Sure it does. What was, was, so that what is, can be.

I dunno. I think it’s just that simple. Or at least, it can be.

Whatever works tho.

^Sasha – Rooms^

I guess my mother is afraid that I’ll wind up sucking dicks at truck-stops and rest-stops for money.

Don't worry mom...I don't want that either.

I wouldn’t be any good at it, prolly wouldn’t make much.

Not that I've thought about that or anything.

The literature is kinda …vague… on how necessary that practice really is.

I guess it depends on how hungry you are.

Literature.

Litterature.

Hmmmmm….might make a good title for a book.

Or at least, part of a title of a good book.

Prolly already been done tho…so…meh…ain’t gonna Google it.

^Alan Walker – Faded^

cYa | cFa

^M83 – “Wait” (Official Video)^

*******

*/thinks… Didn’t Eminem have an album called Encore, Clicky…*

*Oh… that sounds like that Ali G’s song… /frowns… Fuck it, Clicky, give us something I can sing along to…*