Monday, January 31, 2005

The Days of Restless Youth Revisited:

Thought for the Day:
To put your life in danger from time to time... breeds a saneness in dealing with day-to-day trivialities. -- Nevil Shute (yes, I know I used this one a few months ago, but I love it and it fits my life well, life tastes sweet to those who know other things.)

On the Weekend in Review:

I spent Friday:
...praying for death (I hate rock concerts, with free drinks), and getting more shots at the doctors followed by getting four new tires for the sweet and loving Mrs. JQP’s Jeep, (she says her girl likes the new shoes). I was in bed by 8…nothing really exciting…

Now Saturday:
Took a few turns that I had not foreseen. I taught a class form 8 till 1, that really went pretty well, stopped by three places to pick up fresh produce for my cooking, and managed to hide from the rugby team until about 3:00 (when they quit calling, however I was very tempted to at least go to the party and sing bawdy rugby songs, but dear reader the night took an unexpected turn). I made Tuscan Chicken it turned out wonderful, and thawed some Sea Bass (always thaw fish in milk, it takes out the fishy smell) after our early supper, we settled in for a quite night of reading and relaxation.

Suddenly the phone rings, it is my long lost friend Dr. D, the only enlisted member of the Nat. Guard with a PhD. (it’s a long story, we were in the Army together, and later in life ran into each other and worked on some military related projects) he is currently a college professor doing a lot of research in the Commonwealth due south of my Indiana home. Needless to say we went out, meeting at my favorite bar and moving onto a redneck roadhouse I know of two towns south.

Alcohol was a factor and words were exchanged with the local indigenous population, which of course made for a very interesting turn of events. Now I am a man of infinite patience, but it only takes someone spiting on me and I tend to lose my sense of humor. Needless to say, fisticuffs ensued. For the sake of limited liability, the details of the rest of the evening will be omitted, (but the word “Airborne” was shouted several times) but it did end up with all of us buying each other shots and being good ol’ buddies. Only in my life…

Which of course brings my to Sunday:
well…I seem to have broken two fingers (the same two fingers as last year, and popped my knee out, to include my back (there was a lesson learned, about fighting in ice covered parking lots, out numbered, but what the hell, I didn’t hurt anyone to awful bad, and ended up getting free drink out of the deal, just one of those, dumb-ass attacks, where you think your 18, but your body lets you know that that day as come and gone, but hell it was fun).

I believe I forgot to mention that the Sweet and Supportive Mrs. JQP was along with us and as she said Sunday, she wouldn’t of missed it for the world (that and you always need someone to go start the truck when shit hits the fan). She likes that kind of stuff, there is a big streak of reform school girl in her, which is why she carries a razor in her shoe and often tells people who upset her that she will shoot them in the face (my little flower). So, after visiting my friends at ER Sunday morning and getting my leg wrapped, new crutches, and my fingers set, plus a shot of good drugs for my back I went home and read poetry the rest of the day.

However I did make the sea bass with fresh basil and roast garlic. I didn’t make bread like I hand planed because of my fingers, but what the hell, oh and yes…we skipped Mass, I am thinking about staying away until Ash Wednesday, Lint is always my favorite religious holiday.

For the Week:
Well, I am interviewing interns (got to love free labor) have some court, some teaching out of town (way down south and way up north) and a shit load of grants to write. Like in the service of mankind, same old same old.

Your Word/Phrase for the Day:
Toe up from the floor up: To be really messed up (like from a hangover or a fight). Sometimes abbreviated to simply "toe up." (yes, I know this is a retred as well, but it fits my mood and the the story line)

Your Saint for the Week:
St. Gildas: This saint was born around the year 500 in Britain. He set out as a young man to practice a self-sacrificing lifestyle. He did this to help himself become closer to God. Gildas was serious about his Christian commitment. He felt the responsibility to pray and sacrifice for the sins committed by the people of his times. He wrote sermons trying to convince people to give up wickedness. He encouraged them to stop their lives of scandal. Because Gildas cared so much, his writings sometimes seemed overly critical. Actually, he didn't mean to condemn anyone. He was begging people to turn to God.

Gildas was a spiritual man who lived a hermit's life. He didn't choose a quiet, prayerful life because he wanted to keep away from the world around him. He chose his life to help him grow closer to God. He was more aware than the average person of some things that were very wrong in society. Sadly, many people were not aware enough of God and his law. They did not even realize the evils that were destroying them. That is why some people in the Church-priests, bishops and laymen and women-went to Gildas for advice about deeply spiritual matters.

Toward the end of his life, Gildas lived his hermit's life on a tiny island in Brittany. Even though he wanted to be alone to prepare his soul for death, disciples followed him there. He welcomed them as a sign that the Lord wanted him to share his spiritual gifts with others. Gildas was like the "conscience" of society. Sometimes we don't like to hear about sin, but sin is real. Sometimes we, too, are tempted to do wrong or are neglectful. Then we can say a little prayer to St. Gildas. We can ask him to obtain for us the will power to do the right thing.

Your Bill for the Day:
"O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!" --From Hamlet (I, v, 106)

Quote of the Day:
Nowadays most people die of a sort of creeping common sense, and discover when it is too late that the only things one never regrets are one's mistakes.
Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1891, Irish dramatist, novelist, & poet (1854 - 1900)

I remain, evermore myself;

John Q. Public esq.

Your Poem for the Week

Wild with all Regrets (Another version of "A Terre".)

To Siegfried Sassoon
My arms have mutinied against me -- - brutes!
My fingers fidget like ten idle brats,
My back's been stiff for hours, damned hours.
Death never gives his squad a Stand-at-ease.
I can't read. There: it's no use. Take your book.
A short life and a merry one, my buck!
We said we'd hate to grow dead old. But now,
Not to live old seems awful: not to renew
My boyhood with my boys, and teach 'em hitting,
Shooting and hunting, -- - all the arts of hurting!
-- Well, that's what I learnt. That, and making money.
Your fifty years in store seem none too many;
But I've five minutes. God! For just two years
To help myself to this good air of yours!
One Spring! Is one too hard to spare? Too long?
Spring air would find its own way to my lung,
And grow me legs as quick as lilac-shoots.

Yes, there's the orderly. He'll change the sheets
When I'm lugged out, oh, couldn't I do that?
Here in this coffin of a bed, I've thought
I'd like to kneel and sweep his floors for ever, -- -
And ask no nights off when the bustle's over,
For I'd enjoy the dirt; who's prejudiced
Against a grimed hand when his own's quite dust, -- -
Less live than specks that in the sun-shafts turn?
Dear dust, -- - in rooms, on roads, on faces' tan!
I'd love to be a sweep's boy, black as Town;
Yes, or a muckman. Must I be his load?
A flea would do. If one chap wasn't bloody,
Or went stone-cold, I'd find another body.

Which I shan't manage now. Unless it's yours.
I shall stay in you, friend, for some few hours.
You'll feel my heavy spirit chill your chest,
And climb your throat on sobs, until it's chased
On sighs, and wiped from off your lips by wind.

I think on your rich breathing, brother, I'll be weaned
To do without what blood remained me from my wound.

5th December 1917.

Sunday, January 30, 2005

A Tail of Lost Souls:

The results of heart felt searches that lead innocent civilians to my little corner on the blog-o-spear, poor bastards (with a nod and a wink to Alli):,GGLC:1970-01,GGLC:de&q=girls%20gone%20wild%20spring%20thg%20break%20d

Oh, well…some times you get the bear and some times the bear gets you…


Friday, January 28, 2005

Love, Hate and the Cat that shit in my mouth:

Thought for the Day:
I envy people who drink. At least they have something to blame everything on.
Oscar Levant
(1906 - 1972)

On right now:
Not a lot to say today
A) I am still drunk, from last night
B) I have had a shitty day already
C) I am still drunk, from last night
D) Please, hurry hang over…someone kill the cat that shit in my mouth.

On Today:
Mrs. JQP called me at 6am (she spent the night out and about) it seems she hit something on I-69 (yes, I love the name to) and had two flat tires. So, out of bed I rolled, drove up to where she was (yes, still drunk from last night) and tried for two hours to get the tires off. No luck, fuck what did they do weld them on? Anyway, so I have to figure out what to do, and how to pay for it (Jeep tires are not cheap), I ended up taking her to work, being late for mine and fuck, brothers and sisters, daddy is feeling like shitz-ville.

On Tomorrow:
Hell, I am teaching from 8 till 12 (easy money). Other than that, no plans. I told my loving and kind wife that there was no way I wanted to plan anything, with anyone all weekend. So, that is that.

Bill for the Day:
"We should be woo'd and were not made to woo."
--From A Midsummer Night's Dream (II, i, 242)

Quote for the Day:
I love drugs, but I hate hangovers, and the hatred of the hangover wins by a landslide every time. Margaret Cho, weblog, 10-30-03

Full of Bile and Hate, I remain:

JQP esq.

Thursday, January 27, 2005

Gypsies in the Mirror

Thought for the Day:
To fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting. -- Sun Tzu, 300 B.C.

Your Bar Trick for the Week:
The “It’s Magic, Baby” trick, by request:
Take 2 small shot glasses and fill one 1/2 way with Kahlua and the other 1/2 way with milk. Ask a guest to put the contents of one glass into the other and vice versa without pouring any out ( or putting one in their mouth), they may however use their drivers license.

Here's how its done: Place the license over the top of the Kahlua and turn upside down and on the milk without spilling and then remove slightly to allow the milk to gradually fill the Kahlua glass. The Kahlua is heavier and will sink to the bottom allowing you to carefully pour the milk into the other glass.
(This is very easy to do)

Your Drinks of the Week:

The Pamplona Trot

2 1/4 oz. Tequila
3/4 oz. Kahlua
3/4 oz. Capt. Morgan’s Spiced Rum
Fill with “Red Bull”
(To make a Pamplona Walk add Cream, serve chilled in a pint glass)

The Rainbow-Bright Colon Cleaner and Weight Loss Cocktail:

(This is a Re-Post from earlier in the week, R-B and S-S swear by them, but alas…I don’t have balls enough to try one.)
Juice of three fresh squeezed lemons
4 tea spoons of cayenne pepper
3 table spoons of natural maple syrup
2 tea spoons of Tabasco (Texas Pete’s can substituted)
8 oz. of Sky Vodka
(Serve in a pint glass and make sure you have unobstructed access to a restroom, this will take off 15 pounds in two weeks if you have seven of these little wonders a day)

On What I am Reading:
Currently I am into Kinky Freedman, the man tells some funny shit. Tuesday I finished my third book on the Boar War so far this winter, not the most exciting read, but better than my last interest involving the Crimean War. As for work related reading, I am really into two new books on PTSD and treatment/intervention for victims of trauma (sadly, a growth industry these days). My wife, the kind and attentive Mrs. John Q. Public announced over breakfast (steak and two eggs over-easy, wheat toast, black coffee) that she was in a grudge-match with a book given to her by the wife of Pastor Bob that deals with a hermaphrodite. Next week, I plan to re-read some of the works of HST, Emerson made me think to much, time for a little brain candy.

On Related Subjects:
Here is a clip from the worst short story I have read so far this week, but that made me stop and think is:

“Watch her!” she admonished. I raised my eyes to the black Virgin, and saw that the statue was where my soul—and Mona’s—had gone. Her eyes, like Mona’s, were the color of milk, and flowed with thick tears of semen. I thrust my hips forward, pinning Mona’s head against the stone, and came until the Virgin’s eyes were dry and burned like molten gold. When the echo of my howl had died out, I heard urgent shouts and footfalls from outside the grotto, and I left the sanctuary of Mona’s mouth with the sting of shame in my groin and my solar plexus.

We were busted, me with my pants around my knees and Mona with my cum on her face. Busted by her two companions, a security guard, and Sister Beatrice. I was no Catholic, not even a very good Presbyterian, but with the hallucinogen coursing through my veins and the nun’s fleshy face twisted up with indignation, I’d have sooner died then and there than face the judgment I knew lay ahead. It wasn’t that we had done it, it was where we had done it.

On Sports:
This weekend is the annual Old Boy’s Rugby Ice Bowl and Carry-In Dinner (Mrs JQP thinks that it should be skiped this year). So, I might be on chruches next week. I get talked in stuff way to easy. The Super Bowl, Pats by 14. (40.00 on this one).

On what I am listening to:
Qkumba Zoo-The Perfect Vacation, Bajofondo Tango Club-White Russian, and The Best of the Texas Play Boys (The Road Years) and an old CD from college of DCD. I am just getting over a Beatles period that I seem to slip into after every holiday season. I am lucky that the life-style my wife has, allows for a lot of free CDs.

On Health:
I am still feeling better, not a 110% but getting there. I started running and fuck I am one out of shape mother. I am doing a lot of stuff to get my knee as good as it can be. The Mrs. And I are going to the Y next week, she sucked up and got us free full memberships (perks). The MDs said it will probably be a month before I am over this latest range of illnesses, but at least I am on track.

On the Road:
Well, I am not going to the “Guys Golf Outing in South Africa”, I got all the info, and shit, to much $ for my taste, I could do two cooking trips to Italy for the price of one golf outing, then there is the small fact that I don’t golf.

We are still planning the three cpls. trip to the “Big Easy”, food, booze and wild “hear no evil, see no evil, tell no evil” times. I am over due, for some good ol’ blow off steam fun. Mrs. JQP wants to go to Savannah for St. Paddy’s Day, but I don’t know if with work I can swing it, however her rich uncle said we can stay on his boat if we go down.

After that it’s the KY Derby, and my personal favorite summertime drink Mint Juleps, with the GA and SC crowd. Lets hope my lil’ risk taker doesn’t blow a grand on the ponies again this year. We are heading to Memphis in a few weeks, kind of a get away weekend, for BBQ, beer, Blues and visiting family. On the family front, still trips to plan back to the beach and down to Fla.

Today’s Bill:
Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
Will play the tyrants to the very same
And that unfair which fairly doth excel:
For never-resting time leads summer on
To hideous winter and confounds him there;
Sap cheque'd with frost and lusty leaves quite gone,
Beauty o'ersnow'd and bareness every where:
Then, were not summer's distillation left,
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,
Nor it nor no remembrance what it was:
But flowers distill'd though they with winter meet,
Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.
(yes, I am more than ready for winter to be over)

Quote of the Day:
It is pleasant at times to play the madman.
Seneca, Roman dramatist, philosopher, & politician (5 BC - 65 AD)
(and play I do, dear reader, play I do)

Living Life in the Fast Lane and Not Looking Back, I remain;


Wednesday, January 26, 2005

The View from the Sidewalk:

Thought for the Day:
I thoroughly disapprove of duels. If a man should challenge me, I would take him kindly and forgivingly by the hand and lead him to a quiet place and kill him.
Mark Twain, US humorist, novelist, short story author, & wit (1835 - 1910)

On Last Night:
Have you ever seen the show COPS? Well dig it…there I was minding my own business walking the hounds around our historic neighborhood letting them shit in other peoples yards when suddenly….a cop car and then another and then another drove up to me. Now when I say drove up to me, I mean up on the sidewalk. Cops, with guns and very determined faces. Three cops that oddly I didn’t know. Since when does not picking up your dogs shit warrant this kind of a response?

Now like many of you know, I was a bit of an outlaw and involved in a few incursions into the dark side of the force in my youth. But, rest assured the statute of limitations is long since passed on them. It seems someone had robed an old lady when she was getting out of her car a few blocks over and the criminal was armed with a shot-gun. So, they were looking for a white guy with a shotgun and an old lady’s purse.

Ok, like what the fuck, over? After they let me up from the ground, I informed them that if I was going to rob an old lady, I wouldn’t use a shotgun, since they are a little hard to conceal and I most likely wouldn’t rob someone in my own neighborhood let alone take my dogs with me. Reluctantly they agreed and helped me catch my brave hounds who took off at the first sign of trouble. Shit like this always happens to me, Bad Boy Bad Boy what ya gona do…. Maybe I should take my sweet and loving wife’s advice and quit wearing pantyhose over my face when I go out at night. However, I sleep easy knowing the streets of this great city are protected by these fine gentlemen.

On Hanging with Rock Stars:
The Sweet and Ever Popular Mrs. JQP just called and told me that all day Thursday she will be hanging out with band formerly known as Creed. That’s right, my girl will be hanging with Alterbridge. She also informed me that they will be by in the limo to pick me up after work. If she remembers, she gets going on the demon-weed and look out kids. But then again they are a Christian rock band or a band with Christians in it or something like that, so hard telling how the night will play out. I hope has much fun as Nickelback or Lincoln Park.

Now when I go to these things I tend to miss the shows, I stay back stage and eat all the free food and drink all the free booze. Hell, I don’t even know who half of them are. So, I plan to come in late to work on Friday and nurse a hangover (my second for the week). That’s life in rock and roll baby…and living in the fast lane with my girl the diva.

On Cooking:
Last night it was gumbo, made with Mrs. Duvall’s Cajon sausage (brought all they way back from Louisiana by a dear co-worker and fellow fan of southern cooking) and shrimp from my friend Al the Sailor Man. Tonight its pork chops and pork chop gravy (there are few things better than gravy bread) and mashed sweet potatoes and stewed tomatoes. Comfort foods, redneck white trash style….

This weekend I am going to cook Tuscan by request (when mammas belly is full, she is happy). Sunday it will be my world famous Shrimp and Grits (its so good it hurts to think about it) I have a lot of shrimp to use up. As Grandpa used to say before we put him in the “home” (mom told him if he stabbed one more person that’s what was going to happen, so he was warned) “The only thing I like better than drinking, scewen and fighten is eaten…”

On the Anniversary of Deaths:
Today it is ten years since my dad died. As the Sweet and Loving Mrs. JQP calls him my Popsicle (he fell outside and froze to death). I miss dad, when you grow older there are lots of things you wish you would have asked but now never can. I always wondered why he went back to Vietnam (the man did three tours) why he one day said fuck it and quit being sheriff in the small town we lived in. Just lots of things, I am proud of my dad and there are many days I just wish we could go and hang-out and watch a game. Sorry, getting a bit too Weepy-Irish.

Your Word and or Phrase for the Day:
Captain Sav-a-Hoe: Noun, A Captain Sav-a-hoe (save a whore) is a man who pays for everything to an unreasonable extent.
Example: As Jermar Givens put it, "If you're paying for all the kid's clothing, but they ain't even your kids--you're a captain."
(Be sure to use it three times in conversations with co-workers today)

Your Bill for the Day:
The play's the thing Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King.
Hamlet (II, ii, 633)

Your Greek God for the Week:
Agdistis: Mother god of Phrygian origin, often associated with the mother goddess Kybele. In Greek mythology, she was the product of the combination of a rock with the semen of Zeus. Originally a hermaphrodite, Agdistis was made female through castration. The vegetation god Attis was the ultimate product of her severed sexual organs which became either a pomegranate tree or an almond tree. Attis grew to become a beautiful youth, but ultimately died of self-castration in an effort to avoid the amorous pursuit of Agdistis and/or Kybele.
(Talk about a shitty deal being this god)

Quotes for the Day:
Fear not those who argue but those who dodge.
Marie Ebner von Eschenbach, Aphorisms, 1905 (Man, I love her name)
Life... is like a grapefruit. It's orange and squishy, and has a few pips in it, and some folks have half a one for breakfast.
Douglas Adams, English humorist & science fiction novelist (1952 - 2001)

Rigid and Unbending, I remain:

John Q. Public DVM

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Your Poet-sage for the Week:

Happy Birthday Etta James, the mother of soul and the cheating lover of the blues. You just have to love old Etta James songs, I always think of hot summer nights in the low country, cold beer at road houses and sweaty dancing women...

At Last

At last my love has come along
My lonely days are over
And life is like a song
Ohh yeah yeah

At last the skies above are blue
My heart was wrapped up in clover
The night I looked at youI found a dream, that I could speak to
A dream that I can call my own
I found a thrill to press my cheek to
A thrill that I have never known
Ohh yeah yeah…

You smile, you smile
oh And then the spell was cast
And here we are in heaven
For you are mine at last


or Maybe not:

Your Poem for the Week:

In the Long Run
In the long run fame finds the deserving man.
The lucky right may prosper for a day,
But in good time true merit leads the van,
And vain pretense, unnoticed, goes its way.
There is no Chance, no Destiny, no Fate,
But Fortune smiles on those who work and wait,
In the long run.

In the long run all goodly sorrow pays,
There is no better thing than righteous pain,
The sleepless nights, the awful thorn-crowned days,
Bring sure reward to tortured soul and brain.
Unmeaning joys enervate in the end,
But sorrow yields a glorious dividend
In the long run.

In the long run all hidden things are known,
The eye of truth will penetrate the night,
And good or ill, thy secret shall be known,
However well 't is guarded from the light.
All the unspoken motives of the breast
Are fathomed by the years and stand confess
In the long run.

In the long run all love is paid by love,
Though undervalued by the hosts of earth;
The great eternal Government above
Keeps strict account and will redeem its worth.
Give thy love freely; do not count the cost;
So beautiful a thing was never lost
In the long run.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox
(Sent to me this morning by an avid fan.)

Monday, January 24, 2005

A day at the Slave Labor Camp:

Thought for the Day:
(I know: "Guns Don't Kill People." But I suspect that they have something to do with it. If you point your finger at someone and say, "Bang, bang, you're dead," not much actually happens.) -- Molly Ivins

On the Weekend in Review:
Well, Friday the Sweet and Loving Mrs. John Q. Public and I went out to dinner with Major Steve and his wife Mrs. Steve. It was a night full of Macedonian delicacies, involving picked meats and farm produce. It was good to see the Major and learn of our hard fought campaigns in distant lands. I found it most rewarding the he shares my belief the current Sec. of Defense, should be fired and charged with crimes. All in all a nice night out on the town, we were home in bed by 11. (We are getting old you know.)

Saturday: we stayed around home, rented movies, and read books. We are finally getting our use of the fire place after living in the manor for three years. I cooked the chicken and it turned out great. There is something inherently rewarding about sipping tea, while reading a good book in front of the fire with the hounds at your feet and your love napping next to you.

In other news, mamma was in heat and the temp was right, so I was called upon to perform my husbandly duties, repeatedly. (Something that I still have not recovered from, it is true; I am not 18 anymore, not by a long shot)

Sunday: we were off to early mass, a brisk walk indeed. It is handy that we live within 3 blks. of our parish, it also has its downsides. They know they can call you at the last min. if they need help with something. After Mass, I made stuffed steaks that were simply wonderful. A napped in preparation of afternoon football. Has many of you know, I am a Pats fan and to a less extent a Falcons supporter.

While napping on the couch, my kind and loving wife woke me, I replied, with no, no again, please I need to sleep, to which she retorted, silly man, dear husband, I was wondering if you would like to go to the rugby bar with me and watch the game. It was at this point, I asked her, who was she and what had she done with my wife? Needless to say, we were soon off to the rugby bar and watched the games in the company of a few hundred close friends.

I ended up playing darts and she unknown to me gambled, now its not commonly known, but my sweet and giving wife has a bit of a problem with gambling. After, ending up 200 bucks in the hole, we decided it was time to go.

Plans for today: well, as a cop-friend of mine informed me last night, we are appearing in the same court case this afternoon. So, soon it will be time to put on a tie and be a grown-up. However first thing this morning I have a planing meeting with the Borg, fun fun, right up there with getting an elective circumcision.

This evening I am having dinner and drinks with Monsignor Jerry at the bar across the street. We try to get together once a month but with work and illness, we are three months behind, it will be good to catch up with him, he is my trusted advisor and a god-damn funny man.

Your drink of the Week:

The Rainbow-Bright Colon Cleaner and Weight Loss Cocktail:
Juice of three fresh squeezed lemons
4 tea spoons of cayenne pepper
3 table spoons of natural maple syrup
2 tea spoons of Tabasco (Texas Pete’s can substituted)
8 oz. of Sky Vodka
(serve in a pint glass and make sure you have unobstructed access to a restroom, this will take off 15 pounds in two weeks if you have seven of these little wonders a day)

Word and/or Phrase for the Day:
Kablamo Method: Noun, A technique used to defeat opponents in a contest or game.
Jay tried to fuck with me during the morning staff meeting; I had to use the old Kablamo Method to put him in his place.

Your Southern Words for the Day:
Ate/Aight -- 7 + 1. or the number after 7, can also be the number before 9.
Daid -- Not alive

Your Poem for the Day:

The House by the Side of the Road
THERE are hermit souls that live withdrawn
In the place of their self-content;
There are souls like stars, that dwell apart,
In a fellowless firmament;
There are pioneer souls that blaze the paths
Where highways never ran-
But let me live by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

Let me live in a house by the side of the road
Where the race of men go by-
The men who are good and the men who are bad,
As good and as bad as I.
I would not sit in the scorner's seat
Nor hurl the cynic's ban-
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

I see from my house by the side of the road
By the side of the highway of life,
The men who press with the ardor of hope,
The men who are faint with the strife,
But I turn not away from their smiles and tears,
Both parts of an infinite plan-
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead,
And mountains of wearisome height;
That the road passes on through the long afternoon
And stretches away to the night.
And still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice
And weep with the strangers that moan,
Nor live in my house by the side of the road
Like a man who dwells alone.

Let me live in my house by the side of the road,
Where the race of men go by-
They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong,
Wise, foolish - so am I.
Then why should I sit in the scorner's seat,
Or hurl the cynic's ban?
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

Sam Walter Foss
(I read this one over the weekend and liked how he put it together, kind of a cool thought)

Todays Bill:
O, from what power hast thou this powerful might
With insufficiency my heart to sway?
To make me give the lie to my true sight,
And swear that brightness doth not grace the day?
Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,
That in the very refuse of thy deeds
There is such strength and warrantize of skill
That, in my mind, thy worst all best exceeds?
Who taught thee how to make me love thee more
The more I hear and see just cause of hate?
O, though I love what others do abhor,
With others thou shouldst not abhor my state:
If thy unworthiness raised love in me,
More worthy I to be beloved of thee.

On Health:
Man, I am feeling a lot better today…dang lets hear it for good drugs.

On Sports:
Go Pats!

Thought for the Day:
It may be better to be a live jackal than a dead lion, but it is better still to be a live lion. And usually easier. -- Robert A. Heinlein, Notebooks of Lazarus

I remain; a sharp dresser and good dancer,


Friday, January 21, 2005

Hard candy and Soft Liquor:

Thought for the Day:
I respect faith, but doubt is what gets you an education.
Wilson Mizner, US screenwriter (1876 - 1933)

On the open warfare of Target sales:
There are few things more violent than a Target Store's going out of business sale. I went thinking I might grab a few things from sporting goods (hell the ad said 70% off). God-damn, I about got into a shoving match with a lady who grabbed stuff out of my cart while I was pricing tents. Yes, grabbed it out of my cart.

“Well, you got the last one she said” Like what the fuck, yes, I grabbed the last set of jumper cables, me, myself, as in not you, that’s why it’s the last one and that’s why it was in my cart. Put it back now, I might add she was there with two kids both under the age of six of seven, she then called me a mother-fucker and said she was going to get the store manager.

Which she did, loudly, very loudly. The manager was a nice lady, who had obviously had a shitty day, she tried to explain to the lady that just because it was the last item doesn’t mean you can grab it out of other peoples cart, because folks, she still wasn’t clear on that point.

The manager even offered to have someone go in the back and look for another set, NO! said the dear-soul, I want this mother-fucking set, at which point her three year old started chanting m-o-t-h-e-r-f-u-c-k-e-r, (yes, I was just waiting on her to hit the kid, for me that’s a “game-on”, but she didn’t, hell at one point I think she even joined in chanting it with him). Then it was the drop the bomb time, “I am going to call my boyfriend and my brothers and they are going to kick your asses” Now at this point the manger said “oh no you didn’t” Funny how when a manager is pissed off store security quickly appeared, followed my members of our local law enforcement community.

It was however at this point at the suggestion of the manager and a cop I know that I left, purchasing the jumper cables and a god-damn tent. So, Ha fucking Ha, I got the last set of Heavy-Duty jumper cables, bitch! Yes, they are mine, all mine and I got them for $3.00!

Mojo drawers:
Today, is the much over due clean the office day. I don’t know about you but I have a drawer in my desk that is a kind of a time capsule, or better yet, remember when you were a kid and you had a treasure box? Well, that’s what this drawer is. I am looking at it now and a quick inventory includes:

Pictures of me with various rock stars and bikini models and my dogs (hey baby, it’s the fast crowd I run with) Two packets of Walkers Short Bread given to me months and months ago, a glass bead, my grand-pa’s pocket knife (bet he is still looking for that), duck tape, a pirated copy of Fahrenheit 911, phone lists from the past three jobs, a book on “Bawdy, Shakespeare”, the Myrtle Beach-Grand Strand phone book, three coffee mugs given to me for Christmas by my employer with cocoa, and cookies still inside, about 400 tablets of post-it notes (yes, its me, I am the office hoarder of post-it notes, I just cant pass them by without grabbing some, it’s a sickness I know, sad but true), a pocket copy of Indiana Code for Law Enforcment, a collection of poets from the 19th Century, 5 Cat-in-the-Hat toys (I am a fan), a pin from a hand grenade, three bottles of different hot-sauces (damn, I always forget I have those when I eat at my desk, nine old cigars (all saying it’s a boy or it’s a girl) and a stuffed Goofy wearing a kilt and carrying bag-pipes. I wonder what this says about my personality, let alone my Mojo.

On being a key-note speaker at a prayer breakfast:
Ok, this morning I was the key note speaker at a Prayer Breakfast, yes…little old me, Mr. JQP esq. I was the key note speaker. It went very well thank-you, I was a bit nervous since its not my “normal” crowd, but I pulled it off, However I did get a little Southern Baptist on them, I think they called it being passionate about what I was talking about. Just wanted to share this because, every Catholic in town has been calling saying “LOL, I can’t believe you’re the Key-Note speaker”. Well, whether or not you like the messenger, the message is good. Point made, point taken and baby-doll, I rocked it out.

Pneumonia sucks:
It really screwed my part time job of singing Ava Maria at weddings and the Nation Anthem at hockey games; Thank God I can still fall back on the world of interpretive dance. Nuff said…

The Inauguration:
What can I say, the country is at war, country is broke, things are shitty, sounds like a hell of a time to throw the most expensive inauguration in history. People please keep in mind that a mandate is not 51% of the vote. I would of rather that my part of those tax dollars that went to pick up the cost of the champagne or the tuba player, would have been spent on body-armor for some soldier. But, as Rummy said, “we go to war with the army we have”.

On Last night:
The meeting went well, no big deal, I dazzled them. Its all smoke and mirrors dear reader, all smoke and mirrors. Step right up, watch and be amazed. I think it helped that I did a few folk dances to get everyone loosened up. In reality, the problem was not the program but how the goals of the program were communicated to the people. It was all pretty easy to clear up.

Court, court and then court, after this I think I am going to run home and get out of this monkey suit.

Plans for the Weekend:
Tonight, depending on the weather dinner with Major and Mrs. Steve. Starting with cocktails at my favorite watering hole and then down home Macedonian cooking at my most favored roadhouse (they love me there, they even sent me a get well card when I was sick, now that’s taking care of a customer).

On Saturday:
I predict will be spent digging myself out of this snow storm they are calling for tonight. This weekend I will be back to cooking, I got some great chicken breast at the meat market and have been wanting to make herb and sun dried tomato crusted chicken breasts. Nice night for reading and a fire in the fire place.

On Sunday:
Early Mass (I am reading). Then I think I will cook some more, also at the meat market I picked up some sirloins that are real thick, so I am going to stuff them with a shrimp white raisins, cashew mixture and serve them with a red wine sauce.

Why Clogging is My Life:
(I ran across this and wanted to share with the class.)

Clogging is an American folk dance that is similar to tap dancing. It is making rhythmic tapping sounds with the feet. Special shoes are used to emphasize the tapping sounds. These usually are soft leather shoes with hard soles and attached metal taps. Clogging is influenced by many of the European dance forms, as well as Canadian step dancing and break dancing. It is done to almost any kind of upbeat music. Country and traditional bluegrass music are the most popular, but cloggers today also dance to pop, rap, hip-hop, anything with a fast beat.

Clogging is becoming more and more popular. Today, workshops are held almost every weekend for cloggers, group directors, and anyone who loves to clog. Instructors from around the world teach their original clogging routines at these workshops. Clogging has become so popular that it has spread not only throughout the U.S. and Canada, but also to many countries in Europe, to Australia, and even to Japan!

Clogging is a great form of exercise as well. Here is a quick list of some of the health benefits in clogging:

helps coordination and gracefulness,
develops flexibility,
lowers blood pressure,
increases endurance and strength,
increases lung capacity,
relieves stress,
and is great for weight loss (burns around 400 calories per hour).
As you can see, clogging provides a great aerobic workout.

Many television dance shows spotlight clogging groups. The next time you tune in to watch one of these shows, look for a clogger! You never know when you might see someone clogging up a storm! Written and researched by Kelli Chesney

(See my blog is educational, you learned all about the art of clogging today)

Your Bill for the Day:
"Nothing can come of nothing: speak again."
--From King Lear (I, i, 92)

Quote for the Day:
We must not say every mistake is a foolish one.
Cicero, Roman author, orator, & politician (106 BC - 43 BC)

As always; I remain standing defiant, (However, often Pimped)

JQP Rev Fr. (OSF)

Thursday, January 20, 2005

Random things for a Random Day:

Your Thought for the Day:
Eat a third and drink a third and leave the remaining third of your stomach empty. Then, when you get angry, there will be sufficient room for your rage.
Babylonian Talmud, tractate Gittin

The Day so far and the Day ahead:
Just wanted to share with you my voice mail this morning. This evening I have to get meet a large group of concerned citizens in a distant community. The people who asked me to come speak told me “now there are some hot heads who think they know everything and what’s best for everyone, who are going to be there” My job is to explain a program to a bunch of people who it seems have made their mind up about it.

Gee, no pressure, sounds like more fun than a barrel of shaved monkeys on Meth, tell me again why I didn’t ask for a honorarium? They did say that someone from the local Sheriffs Dept. will be there in case things get heated. Joy fucking joy, but then again this is what I get paid a buck fifty an hour to do, so piss on it, one for the team etc…file this one under the shit they never told you you would end up doing in grad school.

Your drink for the Week:
"Pastor Bob’s Punch"
3/4 oz. Vodka
3/4 oz. Frangelico
3/4 oz. Baileys
1/2 oz. Galliano
Fill with Cream and Coke
(Pastor Bob swears that this goes down well and that it’s a favorite of his parishioners on those long church bus trips to Gospel Show Choir concerts in the mid-south, Try it over the weekend and let me know what you think, it's not one I am going to hit, I hate Galliano)

On Who is Hot:
I was asked who I read in the wide world of blogs:
Well, fasten your seat belt; here are my daily devotions to the democracy that is the World Wide Web.
My first love in the world of blog, read of Murph’s adventures and abuse of alcohol

She who doesn’t want any links to her blog
He is a great man, read him you could learn something, that and we seem to see eye to eye on most everything.
This lady is funny as shit, always something to hold your attention
Now, I want to party with this crew!
Another one of my first loves in Blogville USA, a fomer Buckeye party-girl now in AZ.
Yunie is a sweetheart, not a lot going on, she is looking for a job and making some “lifestyle” changes
You know I had to list my peeps, you go on with your bad self Twisted-Girl (and I know her, yes she is)
And on my list of freaks! She is just starting out, but they are a poly-family and she is a sweet heart! should make for some good reading.
a good read even if he is a Buckeye
A group of people with great minds and strong livers
A man writing about what it is to be a man, a husband and a father.
Just got turned on to him from S-S, the boy has a way with words

This is a brief list, I am not going to list all the ones from BE, or my secret favorite ones… enjoy and expand your horizons.

Your poem for the Day:
Yes I know its long but a friend just turned me on to him, I have not had a lot of time to look into his works to deep but I read this one over lunch and loved it.

I. (Bread and Music)
MUSIC I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
Now that I am without you, all is desolate;
All that was once so beautiful is dead.

Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, belovèd,
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.

For it was in my heart you moved among them,
And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes;
And in my heart they will remember always,--
They knew you once, O beautiful and wise.

My heart has become as hard as a city street,
The horses trample upon it, it sings like iron,
All day long and all night long they beat,
They ring like the hooves of time.

My heart has become as drab as a city park,
The grass is worn with the feet of shameless lovers,
A match is struck, there is kissing in the dark,
The moon comes, pale with sleep.

My heart is torn with the sound of raucous voices,
They shout from the slums, from the streets, from the crowded places,
And tunes from the hurdy-gurdy that coldly rejoices
Shoot arrows into my heart.

Dead Cleopatra lies in a crystal casket,
Wrapped and spiced by the cunningest of hands.
Around her neck they have put a golden necklace,
Her tatbebs, it is said, are worn with sands.

Dead Cleopatra was once revered in Egypt,
Warm-eyed she was, this princess of the South.
Now she is old and dry and faded,
With black bitumen they have sealed up her mouth.

O sweet clean earth, from whom the green blade cometh!
When we are dead, my best belovèd and I,
Close well above us, that we may rest forever,
Sending up grass and blossoms to the sky.

In the noisy street,
Where the sifted sunlight yellows the pallid faces,
Sudden I close my eyes, and on my eyelids
Feel from the far-off sea a cool faint spray,--

A breath on my cheek,
From the tumbling breakers and foam, the hard sand shattered,
Gulls in the high wind whistling, flashing waters,
Smoke from the flashing waters blown on rocks;

--And I know once more,
O dearly belovèd! that all these seas are between us,
Tumult and madness, desolate save for the sea-gulls,
You on the farther shore, and I in this street.

Conrad Aiken

Your Word/Phrase for the Day:
Burnin' a Bleezie: Smoking a joint.
Example: Ma, did you catch My Man Mitch’s State of the State address, dude must have been Burnin' a Bleezie when he wrote that shit, tax the rich, shit…
(Remember to use this phrase three times today in conversations)

Your Bill for the Day:
"To sleep, perchance to dream-ay, there's the rub."
--From Hamlet (III, i, 65-68)

Quote for the Day:
Perhaps the feelings that we experience when we are in love represent a normal state. Being in love shows a person who he should be.
Anton Chekhov, Russian dramatist author (1860 - 1904)

I remain without peer and none my equal,


Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Back in the Saddle:

Thought for the Day:
If there were in the world today any large number of people who desired their own happiness more than they desired the unhappiness of others, we could have paradise in a few years.
Bertrand Russell, English author, mathematician, & philosopher (1872 - 1970)

All in our places with bright smiling faces:
Well, its 7:30 and I have been at work two hours, you know what I say, “in before the boss out after” keeps them off my ass. My God, I have gotten a lot of shit done just wading through piles.
My staff has true to my suspicions taken my absence as a perfect time to fuck-off. No sweat, I planed for that, hell, I was once a wage-slave and a lazy one at that, which is way I am always one step ahead of them, you dont get to be top dog by rolling over, dear reader. Gladly no nasty grams in my box or in the mail from the Borg, but the day is still young, very young.

On Condi:
Ok, I don’t know if anyone else caught the senate hearings yesterday on Ms. Rice, but I loved when she got pissed and said, “do not question my integrity”. Fuck asking her to define integrity would be like asking my President to define a sexual act. Screw her, I hope she remembers that the "I was just following orders" defense didn’t work for the Nazi’s at Nuremburg. Ask not for whom the bell tolls…

On health:
After the two shots and all new meds yesterday, I am feeling better for the first time in a damn long time. I am holding my breath, but I think I turned the corner on this damn being sick shit. Good to, because the next step was me going down to Indy to the Med-Center, to have want-a-be doctors poke and run ($) more tests. Piss on that, health, dear friend health, you are nothing without your health.

Up-sides, well I did want to lose some weight, to my total loss for 3 weeks is….16 pounds. Yeap, bring on swim-suit season, shave my back, put me in Speedo’s and I am a sex-god. My drinking is such, that I would now classify myself as a designated driver (Magic Eight-Ball says: this is subject to change). However, I am broke as shit, both the sweet and kind Mrs. John Q. Public and I have been busting or asses to eat up that deductible early this year ergo we are tight.

Reports and grants, grants and reports. Catch-up big time.

Weekend Plans:
Friday night, Lord willing, we are going out to dinner at a little road-house I know, with Major and Mrs Steve. The protective and concerned Mrs. JQP expressed some reticence about this, because Maj. Steve, always says, come back in, we can set you up with your own command etc… But, its going to be good, to see and old friend and get the skinny on what’s really going on. But, like with all things, it’s subject to change.

Your Bill for the Day:
Those lips that Love's own hand did make
Breathed forth the sound that said 'I hate'
To me that languish'd for her sake;
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
Was used in giving gentle doom,
And taught it thus anew to greet:
'I hate' she alter'd with an end,
That follow'd it as gentle day
Doth follow night, who like a fiend
From heaven to hell is flown away;
'I hate' from hate away she threw,
And saved my life, saying 'not you.'

Quote of the Day:
Mortal lovers must not try to remain at the first step; for lasting passion is the dream of a harlot and from it we wake in despair.
C. S. Lewis, 'The Pilgrim's Regress' English essayist & juvenile novelist (1898 - 1963)

Back to the grind-stone of service to humanity; I remain,

JQP esq.

Monday, January 17, 2005

Your Poem for the Week:

Just finished another novel and started an anthology of poets from the 60’s (got it at a garage sale for 10 cents, about what its worth), I liked this one so here is your poem for the week.

Colors I have never seen, I saw with you
Our passion sucked the air from the room
I knew the first time I held you, felt your fear
Because you knew

I smell you, when I close my eyes
I can still taste your wine on my lips
The tips of my fingers know the smoothness of your skin
I hear my heartbeat in my ears, at the sound of your sighs

The deep magic of your eyes
Your round belly, womb full of promise beneath
Your voice saying now and forever with your soul
Myself is complete in you, in memory if only

H. A. Milton (1967)

Short and to the Point:

Thought for the Day:
He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream and he sometimes wondered whose it was and whether they were enjoying it. Douglas Adams

Last night:
Ok, it was stupid but I went out and had a good-bye drink with my friend and colleague Tattoo John (I did have adult supervision, the Protective and concerned Mrs. John Q. Public drove). Granted I was only out for an hour and that was more than enough. It was good to see him before he left; it’s hard telling when he will be back this way. I do have to give him props, he always manages to end up somewhere warm when its cold as hell here, this time Hawaii, safe journeys, fellow traveler, safe journeys.

On MLK Day:
In these times it’s nice to be able to look to someone as a hero. One man who did great things because he knew it was the right thing and was willing to pay the price. My respect to you this day.

8 Days at home:
Yet another day off, I am feeling better, not a 100% yet more like 75%. Still feel like my lungs are full of spackle but heading the right direction. I hope there is a vast improvement between now and tomorrow morning, I have to hit the ground running.

Your Bill for the Day:
Doubt that the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love. William Shakespeare

Quote for the Day:
Footfalls echo in the memory, down the passage which we did not take, towards the door we never opened into the rose-garden. T. S. Eliot

I remain,


Your Poet-Sage for the Week:

Some songs take you places. Some singers always deliver. Van Morrison has always been that for me. Always a power that speaks to heart and soul, time and space.

Brown Eyed Girl
Words and music by Van Morrison
Hey where did we go,
Days when the rains came
Down in the hollow,
Playin' a new game,
Laughing and a running hey,
heySkipping and a jumping
In the misty morning fog with
Our hearts a thumpin'
and youMy brown eyed girl,
You my brown eyed girl.
Whatever happened
To Tuesday and so slow
Going down the old mind
With a transistor radio
Standing in the sunlight laughing,
Hiding behind a rainbow's wall,
Slipping and sliding
All along the water fall,
with you
My brown eyed girl,
You my brown eyed girl.
Do you remember
when we used to sing,
Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da
So hard to find my way,
Now that I'm all on my own.
I saw you just the other day,
My how you have grown,
Cast my memory back there,
Sometime I'm overcome thinking 'bout
Making love in the green grass
Behind the stadium with you
My brown eyed girl
You my brown eyed girl
Do you remember when we used to sing
Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da

Friday, January 14, 2005

Hunkered down:

Thought for the Day:
It is not advisable, James, to venture unsolicited opinions. You should spare yourself the embarrassing discovery of their exact value to your listener.
Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged, 1957

(I am re-reading some Ayn Rand, a long time ago I dated a girl who had a picture of her holding a shotgun and smoking a cigar, that being said, I like her work, long but a lot of thought and she on a regular, basis pisses me off, as for the girl, she was a psyco-hose-beast and now works for the Postal Service).

A word of Thx:
A word of thanks to the many of you of have wished me well and a speedy recovery, its been very heart warming and kind of ya’ll. I didn’t know that that many people really read the crap I put down in this blog, and being Catholic guilt works on me very well, I wasn’t going to post anything but here goes with some disjointed feverous thoughts.

Drink Re-Cap:
El Salvador Iced Tea
3/4 oz. Grand Marnier
3/4 oz. Tia Maria
3/4 oz. Amaretto
3/4 oz. Vodka
3/4 oz. Blue Curacao
Fill w/ Sweet & Sour and a Splash of Coke
Garnish w/ Lemon Twist

Jonestown Kool-Aid
1 1/4 oz. Meyer's Dark Rum
1 Cube Of Sugar
3/4 oz. Chambord
Fill w/ Orange Juice
1/2 oz. Grenadine
top w/ 3/4 oz. of 151 rum
Garnish w/ a Orange & Cherry

Serve all Cocktails in a Pint glass. Don’t drink and drive, but if you must, I find the driving a church bus, a garbage truck or a panel van that has Organ Donation written of the side helps avoid being pulled over. (I dare you to try one or two over the weekend. Let me know how they were, unlike all the others I have not taste-tested these, enjoy!)

On stuff to write:
Well, I am sorry these past few posts have been so boring, I really don’t have a lot going on. I am sick and it doesn’t allow for a lot of creative thought or insightful comments. Not that I don’t have them just don’t have the energy to put them down.

On TV:
You ever notice how when your home with nothing to do, there is not a god-dame thing on TV? I have been watching re-runs of 70’s TV series and cooking shows (plus of course CNN and the BBC).

On Commercials:
Right now my favorite commercial would have to be the Caveman series they are running for Geico.

On spelling a grammar:
Yes, dear reader, you kind soul who bares with me. My typing a grammar skills are even worst when I am sick and heavily medicated. I have noticed but I have not had the energy to go back and edit. I guess I am in a kind of, fuck it mood.

On Health:
Pneumonia sucks…last night I (we) thought I was going to have to go in and be admitted again, but today the fever has broken (down all the way to 100). So, here is hoping that I have turned to corner on this shit.

Weekend plans:
We tonight I was to head to that great city on the lake for the Hard Working and Festive Mrs. John Q. Public’s work party. I sadly am not going, shame the food would off been good as would a night out in C-Town. She found another date to take my place and said she would call to check in. Perhaps Sunday if I am up to it I might meet Tattoo John for a going-away drink, but right now that doesnt sound like a fun thing to do, or smart, so there is a good chance I will.

On cooking:
Absolutely nothing to report here, I have not eating for three days. Now that’s what really sucks about being sick, I enjoy eating almost has much has cooking. Now this really sucks.

On Sex:
I have found another thing that is affected by my latest illness. I am in a 100% none-sexual mood (this however, could be interpreted by the Sweet and Loving Mrs. John Q. Public as a welcome break). I have been off all week, with access to the internet and I have not even hit my favorite internet porn sites. Damn, sick or getting old? Lets hope my recovery is soon and full.

Now I remember that during our last campaign in Iraq that was a news flash reporting that a Marine Capt. had found a brief case full of biological and chemical weapons and that the insurgents had been found with gas-masks. Now that story quickly went away. It seems it wasn’t true. This week we officially called off the search for WMD in Iraq. There were not any. I just wanted to call that to the attention of my right-wing friends. Lies and Bull-Shit.

On GWB the II:
Not long ago someone asked me what it would take for me to “like” the president. My reply was easy I don’t think I could and/or would ever “like” the president. Respect…that’s another story. I could very easily respect him if he resigned and assisted with the ensuing investigation.

Well, I am not going to hold my breath on that one. So, how about this, what if he came clean and said what everyone else in the world and 49% of the US knows, he did it for oil and so that the rich could make a bit more money off the backs and blood of others.

Hell, I might be happy if he just came out and called it a crusade.

The Draft:
Not a popular opinion but I support the draft, hell yeas bring it back but this time no wavers. All of a sudden all those 17 and 18 year old kids would because experts on our national policies. The last true draft we had been for the Korean War, you could have a man from NC with a 7th grade education serving in the same squad as a millionaires son from NYC. From the integrated armed forces in the 50’s and the draft we has American’s got to know each other, people who would have never meet, never spoke to, perhaps hated because of race or ethnicity, gained respect for each other.

The big reason that W wont bring back the draft is because it would make the protests of the 60’s look like a walk in the park.

If not Him, Who, You ask:
Someone asked me via e-mail last night if I would have been happier with Kerry or for that matter Gore (Gore, remember him, the guy who was elected?) I don’t know, I was voting for the less of two evils.

If our nation is going to be war in an ongoing basis, which it seems is the plan (remember those warnings from a long time ago by a great president about the military-industrial complex?) Well, my dream team would be McCain and Powell, both are leaders both are proven and both have served, unlike anyone on W’s current leadership team. These two I could easily follow.

Word/Phrase for the Day:
A case of the ass: Highly annoyed, pissed off. Currently used in US Army and by veterans of the same. Example:
“That ol’ boy is getting close to giving me a major case of the ass.”
“Sergeant Greenfield has this huge case of the ass with me ever since I wrecked his humvee”

(Use it three times this weekend)

Your Joke of the Day:
The 87 year old said to a friend who was 7 years his junior; "Well, I eat Italian bread every day. It keeps your energy level high and you'll have great stamina with the ladies."

So, on the way home, the 80 year old stops at the bakery.As he was looking around, the lady asked if he needed any help.He said, "Do you have any Italian bread?" She said, "Yes, there's a whole shelf of it. Would you like some?"He said, "I want 5 loaves." She said, "My goodness, 5 loaves...don't you think by the time you get to the 5th it'll be hard?"He replied, "Holy shit ... does everybody in the world know about this Italian bread but ME?!"

Your Bill for the Day:
And since you know you cannot see yourself,
so well as by reflection, I, your glass,
will modestly discover to yourself,
that of yourself which you yet know not of.
William Shakespeare, English dramatist & poet (1564 - 1616)

On what I am reading:
Well, so far this This week I have read six novels (you know the kind you buy at the airport, crime, mysteries and horror and not one thing from any of them has stuck with me, just filler to keep my mind working or as I said earlier this week chewing gum for the mind. Today I started to re-read some Ayn Rand I had around (I decided on Fountainhead). Poets; Miss Dickenson and EE. Cummings, yesterday it was Poe. I try to read several poets a day, belive it or not but there is always something to find in poems, some truth or someway to say something that makes me stop and say god-damn that was cool.

Quote of the Day:
Health nuts are going to feel stupid someday, lying in hospitals dying of nothing.
Redd Foxx US comedian (1922 - 1991)
(I dear reader do not think I will have that problem, I shall not go gently into that good night)

Searching for Truth while lost in my dreams; I remain,


Wednesday, January 12, 2005

Not a Day of Wit and Mirth:

Quote of the Day:
The music business is a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men die like dogs. There's also a negative side.
Hunter S. Thompson
(You know HSTs words can be used many times and in many ways)

On Crows:
The neighborhood I live in for some reason is on the migration route for crows. Now when I say crows I don’t mean just a few, I mean 1000s upon 1000s, I am here in bed and I can hear them, think of Hitchcock’s “The Birds”. Now some people are freaked out by that many, hell it’s even a news story, every year the TV stations come out and do some filler piece on it.
I like them, there is something comforting about them to me. I had an Indian once tell me that the crow was my sprit guide etc… I don’t know about all that but I always greet them with a Good Morning Little Brothers. Just one of those things that makes me stop and think. Instert Poe here...tis the raven never more...

The Wounded:
Ok, I don’t like Imus in the morning but I was just watching MSN and he is fucking going off about the quality of care of solider receive in military hospitals. Now the news always wants to talk about how good they do keeping seriously wounded troops alive. But, mother fucker when you get back you learn real quick the quality of medical care is vastly different between the military and the civilian world. They always show Walter Reed, which is the best; if you had to go there you would shit. Now don’t get me wrong, those who service there do the very best with what they have to work with (hey, I am not shitting in a bag on my hip anymore, hats off to you).

The sad part is that’s the best, fuck you should see Martin Army Hospital and a few of the others. Sorry, it just pisses my off, we can take care of our wounded, the powers that be just don’t want to. Now when these troops get out, wait until the get a load of the VA system. Its been so gutted its little better than a bad nursing home, a place you go to die.

On the continuing saga of my health:
This morning, my clock radio woke me to this cheerful little tune. Which it happens is one of the Sweet and Kind Mrs. John Q. Public’s personal favorite:

And then the ferryman said
"There is trouble ahead, So you must pay me now."
(Don't do it!)
"You must pay me now."
(Don't do it!)
And still that voice came from beyond, whatever you do;
Don't pay the ferryman!
Don't even fix a price!
Don't pay the ferryman
Until he gets you to the other side.
Don't Pay the Ferryman
(Chris de Burgh)

To answer a few questions about my health; when I was a young man and invulnerable/impervious to things I spent a great deal of time traveling throughout the third-world. I made it a point to go to the places that the tourists normally miss. It was an area that my employer at that time had a great interest.

A result other than some scars (both physical and psychological) of my adventurous life-style was several diseases that while exceedingly rare in our great land are common in those exotic lands. So, about every three or four years since leaving the service of my employer I get sick.

Which of course brings me to yesterday; I finished the grant from hell and started a federal grant that I have to have the letter of interest in on by next Friday. For the past 4 days I have been running in the evening (yes, I know, stupid, with all the ice, a bad knee and being sick) well to make a long story short, my lungs are now full of nasty shit. I now am off work for a bit, as the doctor said “dumb-ass, get to bed and stay there or I put you back in the hospital”.

Your Poem for the Week:
(Here is a fun read, I have always loved her work)

The Singing-Woman from the Wood's Edge
WHAT should I be but a prophet and a liar,
Whose mother was a leprechaun, whose father was a friar?
Teethed on a crucifix and cradled under water,
What should I be but a fiend's god-daughter?

And who should be my playmates but the adder and the frog,
That was got beneath a furze-bush and born in a bog?
And what should be my singing, that was christened at an altar,
But Aves and Credos and Psalms out of Psalter?

You will see such webs on the wet grass, maybe,
As a pixie-mother weaves for her baby,
You will find such flame at the wave's weedy ebb
As flashes in the meshes of a mer-mother's web,

But there comes to birth no common spawn
From the love of a priest and a leprechaun,
And you never have seen and you never will see
Such things as the things that swaddled me!

After all's said and after all's done,
What should I be but a harlot and a nun?

In through the bushes, on foggy days,
My Da would come a-swishing of the drops away,
With a prayer for my death and a groan for my birth,
A-mumbling of his beads for all he was worth.

And there sit my Ma, her knees beneath her chin,
A-looking in his face and a-drinking of it in,
And a-marking in the moss some funny little saying
That would mean just the opposite of all he was praying!

He taught me the holy-talk of Vesper and of Matin,
He heard me my Greek and he heard me my Latin,
He blessed me and crossed me to keep my soul from evil,
And we watched him out of sight, and we conjured up the devil!

Oh, the things I haven't seen and the things I haven't known,
What with hedges and ditches till after I was grown,
And yanked both ways by my mother and my father,
With a 'Which would you better?" and a "Which would you rather?"

With him for a sire and her for a dam,
What should I be but just what I am?
Edna St.Vincent Millay

On Drugs:
Man, at least I got some good drugs. They put me on the kind of pain killer that people stick up pharmacies for, plus a few shoots. I may be sick but at least I am stoned.

On Weight loss:
I have dropped 10 pounds in the past 7 days. Oh, the joys of feeling like shit. I just have not been hungry. Which sucks because my one great joy in life is food, followed by sex.

The Fucking Weather:
Ok, now we all know Indiana is a God-Forsaken place, but the weather here is really nuts. Last week an ice storm, week before two feet of snow and today its going to hit 60, then tomorrow night drop down to zero. Ok, what the fuck?

On a plus side its foggy again today. I love to take walks on foggy days. It’s like walking in a dream. I often find it’s a great time to think.

On discussions with my Spouse:
The Sweet and Nurturing Mrs. JQP came home stoned last night, in the time we have been together I often have found that that is the perfect time to talk to her about issues. Ok, I am thinking about going back in…yes, I don’t believe we did the right thing and I fucking can’t stand Cool and the Gang who seems to be running things, but I still feel a strong need to go back in.

I can’t explain it, perhaps its because I am older now and those boys are just so fucking young. I don’t know, I am sure many other men who have seen the Elephant are struggling with the same thing. So the deal, if we adopt \and/or I knock her up I am free to go. Hell, right now I know I could pass the physical but give me time, fuck I don’t know I need to think about it some more.

Plans for the Day:
Well, since I am stoned, I think I will pull a page from the John Lennon play book and have a Peace In, yep…going to stay in bed, lost in thought and memory. Memories come easy on days like today. Foggy days, murders of crows and good drugs go well together.

Your Bill for the Day:
I will name you the degrees. The first, the Retort Courteous; the second, the Quip Modest; the third, the Reply Churlish; the fourth, the Reproof Valiant; the fifth, the Countercheck Quarrelsome; the sixth, the Lie with Circumstance; the seventh, the Lie Direct. William Shakespeare

Thought of the Day:
The years teach much which the days never knew.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

I remain, full of love and life, joy and peace;

JQP Congressman (D-IN)

Tuesday, January 11, 2005

Je reste un voyageur:

Thought for the Day:
Character is higher than intellect... A great soul will be strong to live, as well as to think.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, US essayist & poet (1803 - 1882)

On Friends:
My dear friend and colleague from my Eaton days, Tattoo John called last night to say that we “must” get together before Monday next. He received a research grant from the Rand Foundation and is off to study the long term effects of the sexual revolution on Asian and Polynesian women in the state of Hawaii.

That fucker always could write better grants than me. After begging to be his research assistant he gently said no, he has to travel light. However, he is interested in purchasing the yacht. He said if he find the Future Mrs. Tattoo John (it would be his sixth) he will give me a call and once again I can be his best-man.

Your Drinks of the Week:

El Salvador Iced Tea
3/4 oz. Grand Marnier
3/4 oz. Tia Maria
3/4 oz. Amaretto
3/4 oz. Vodka
3/4 oz. Blue Curacao
Fill w/ Sweet & Sour and a Splash of Coke
Garnish w/ Lemon Twist

Jonestown Kool-Aid
1 1/4 oz. Meyer's Dark Rum
1 Cube Of Sugar
3/4 oz. Chambord
Fill w/ Orange Juice
1/2 oz. Grenadine
top w/ 3/4 oz. of 151 rum
Garnish w/ a Orange & Cherry

Serve all Cocktails in a Pint glass. Don’t drink and drive, but if you must, I find the driving a church bus, a garbage truck or a panel van that has Organ Donation written of the side helps avoid being pulled over.

Your Bar trick of the Week:

Follow Me!
Take two shot glasses and six or eight sip straws (an even #). Give one shot glass and half of the straws to the guest. Tell them if they can do everything you do, you'll buy them the shot, if not, then they must double your bet, (I suggest 2 or 4 bucks). Arrange your straws any way you'd like and pour two shots of their choice. One for you and one for them of course. Start arranging the straws however you would like with your guest following suite. At some point, take your shot but leave the liquor in your mouth. Your guest will take the shot. Then arrange the straws again just for good measure, keeps them guessing.

Here's how its done: When your ready, spit the shot back into the glass. Never have I seen someone not drink the shot. You win, sneaky, very sneaky.

On decision Making:
Have you ever just decided something at the spur of the moment? Something big, something hard, something that could/will change or perhaps even end your life? So, now I have a goal in mind for getting back to 110% healthy and in shape. The things I can get talked into, LOL, just because someone says they need my help. Ok, truth be known, I have not made my mind up, but I am about 65%, just have some more questions. It is time for another adventure.

Your Mental Illness/Defect of the week:
Schizotypal Personality Disorder, Diagnostic Criteria
A pervasive pattern of social and interpersonal deficits marked by acute discomfort with, and reduced capacity for, close relationships as well as by cognitive or perceptual distortions and eccentricities of behavior, beginning by early adulthood and present in a variety of contexts, as indicated by five (or more) of the following:
Ideas of reference (excluding delusions of reference)
Odd beliefs or magical thinking that influences behavior and is
inconsistent with subcultural norms (e.g., superstitiousness, belief in clairvoyance, telepathy, or "sixth sense"; in children and adolescents, bizarre fantasies or preoccupations)
Unusual perceptual experiences, including bodily illusions
Odd thinking and speech (e.g., vague, circumstantial, metaphorical, overelaborate, or stereotyped)
Suspiciousness or paranoid ideation
Inappropriate or constricted affect
Behavior or appearance that is odd, eccentric, or peculiar
Lack of close friends or confidants other than first-degree relatives
Excessive social anxiety that does not diminish with familiarity and tends to be associated with paranoid fears rather than negative judgments about self
Does not occur exclusively during the course of Schizophrenia, a Mood Disorder With Psychotic Features, another Psychotic Disorder, or a Pervasive Developmental Disorder.
The disturbance is not due to the direct physiological effects of a substance (e.g., a drug of abuse, a medication) or a general medical condition.

(This one is a common one to call in sick to work with around here)

Your Bill for the Day:
"When you do dance, I wish you
A wave o' th' sea, that you might ever do
Nothing but that."
--The Winter's Tale (IV, iv, 159-161)

On travel:
Lil’ Kevin, my trusty Boy-Capon called me last night. He in living in Phoenix, teaching high-school and dating a super rich hot woman, who’s best friend works for an airline. It seems he is in possession of 6 round trip plane vouchers and has the idea of sending two to our mutual friends (Georgia-Boy and Sea Shell) who I might add are right-wing libertarians. Two for him and his Rich Girlfriend and two for the Sweet and Travel ready Mrs. John Q. Public. His plan is for to all meet in New Orleans. In February or March, so…on limited bank, we could go to perhaps my “most” favorite city in the world. Piss on the drinking, the food there is un-fucking-real.

I myself would rather go after Mardi Gras, but it would be nice to see the friends of Bacchus, and Orpheus again. I will hold my breath on this one, we have been going to go to South Africa to play golf, Prague to hit on chics and Ireland to…well… just be Irish, none ever came through…but, there is always the possibility.

Also, we had been thinking about going to visit the Well-Connected and Entertaining Mrs. JQP’s family in Savannah for St. Paddy’s Day (a time of year when I take off two days, every year, and have it written into my employment contract, along with my birthday). If you didn’t know it, Savannah has the oldest St. Paddy’s Day party in the US, and if you ever get a chance to go, you’ll be back. It sounds a bit more fun than the year before last when we went to Key West and spent the day in the only Irish Pub within 90 miles of Cuba.

We are going to Memphis some time in the next two months as well. We owe J. Tom and Sweet-Pea a trip down and sitting in their backyard cooking ribs playing with my God-Daughter and then hitting Beale St. sounds like a nice get-away weekend. This summer I have to go down to Surfside Beach for a 40th birthday party, so some miles and some wild times.

Yes, my Southern roots are evident in my choices in travel destinations. Foods good, people are polite, drinking before 8 am is a norm and I know folks all over down there.

Your Quote for the Day:
The difference between a moral man and a man of honor is that the latter regrets a discreditable act, even when it has worked and he has not been caught.
H. L. Mencken, 'Prejudices: Fourth Series,' 1924
US editor (1880 - 1956)

I remain,

JQP esq.

Monday, January 10, 2005

You write the songs that make the whole world sing:

Mrs. JQP just sent me this.
Jill Sobule: Singer, Actress, Crossword Addict
NPR Weekend Edition - Sunday, January 9, 2005 · Since her 1995 breakthrough hit "I Kissed a Girl," singer-songwriter Jill Sobule has been charming fans with her smart and witty pop music. She donned acting shoes to play a street musician in Eric Schaffer's film Mind the Gap. And with the release of her latest CD, the critically acclaimed Underdog Victorious, Sobule fulfilled yet another desire: she became a clue in a crossword puzzle.
A self-proclaimed crossword addict, Sobule enlisted the help of Weekend Edition puzzle master Will Shortz to create a full-fledged puzzle on the inside cover of her CD.

On Jill:
Now you may ask yourself, why would Mrs. JQP sent him something about Jill Soblue. There in dear reader lays the story. A few years ago, Jill was on tour with a personal friend and role model of mine, the late Mr. Warren Zevon. It was during that time that I made her acquaintance. One thing I (we) found is that dear sweet Jill can and does do more than kiss girls. In a nut shell we made out with her… oh, that magic moment so long ago, those wild times of youth. Sweet sweet Jill…

A fan; I remain,


A Normal Quiet Weekend:

Thought for the Day:
The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty; not knowing what comes next. Ursula K. LeGuin

JQP and the Weekend:
Friday, I was a bit of a grown up, I stayed home built a fire, and read three books. Nothing earth shattering, novels, just chewing gum for the mind. However, the Loving and Frendly Mrs. John Q. Public had other plans and invited a large group of very odd people over to the manor for a pork-chop and shrimp fest ("cook for me, lil' dancing boy, cook", I then went to bed late and slept in the morning (all the way till 7:00am). Thank God for good Port, I dont think I would of made it.

After cleaning the house and running off those who spent the night (I turned the hounds on them) I split fire wood. We went out Saturday night after the hockey game, the sweet and kind Mrs. John Q. Public and I to a local watering hole, a heavily Democratic Party clientele, enthusiasts of social justice, unions and fucking the man. Needless to say, it’s a place I fit in. However they have a funny rule about no cussing, so I often get myself in trouble.

Sunday, I woke and went to early Mass, and managed to fall along the way back and messed up the same knee that I had re-done after my experience at playing “Old-Boys-Side” rugby during last years Homecoming game.

The dedicated reader might remember this is the game that the Concerned and Insightful Mrs. John Q. Public said repeatedly, “don’t you go out there and play, those kids will eat you alive” my reply included something about “old age and treachery” as a point of fact, she was right. I lasted about 2 minutes and 13 seconds, before destroying my knee and having four bones broken (something that happens when two healthily young men stand on your legs and head trying to take a ball from you).

I spent last year looking like a down and out boxer or that guy who always said seat belts are for pussies, hobbling along on crutches. Damn it, and here I was all signed up to do an extreme fighting thing next week (even in poor health I have been training) the purse is 5,000 and I have good insurance, that and I can be a mean prick in a fight, but now coming off being sick and with the knee I don’t know if I can pull it off. Damn, I wanted to use the money to take a cooking vacation in Tuscany.

On other news, the Sweet and Kind Mrs. John Q. Public is in town this week. She decided to go on some weird kind of diet, which pretty much makes me on the same kind of weird diet. Its, not like with my robust 240# muscular frame I need to lose any weight, hell I have been trying to bulk up. But, after being married as long as I have, I am now wise enough, to know to follow the path of least resistance.

Poet I am reading:
Dara Prisamt Murray, wow... I dont know if I am old enough to read her.

Your Bill for the Day:
The little Love-god lying once asleep
Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,
Whilst many nymphs that vow'd chaste life to keep
Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand
The fairest votary took up that fire
Which many legions of true hearts had warm'd;
And so the general of hot desire
Was sleeping by a virgin hand disarm'd.
This brand she quenched in a cool well by,
Which from Love's fire took heat perpetual,
Growing a bath and healthful remedy
For men diseased; but I, my mistress' thrall,
Came there for cure, and this by that I prove,
Love's fire heats water, water cools not love.

Well, off to work, my ass is hanging out on some grants, so time to get them nailed down, that and I have a meeting with the Borg today and am on the road this week!

I remain as always yours so very truly:


Your Poet-Sages for the Week:

Limited Old School:
I wanted to get this out of the way early. Here you go, something from "back-in-the-day".

No matter where you are,
I can still hear you when you drown
You've traveled very far
Just to see you I'll come around, when I'm down
All of those yesterdays
Coming around
No matter where you are,
I can still hear you when you dream
You traveled very far
You traveled far, like a star
And you are
All of those yesterdays
Coming around
Is it something someone said?
Was it something someone said?
Yesterday the sky was you
And I still feel the same
Nothing left for me to do
And I still feel the same
I wish, I wish I could fly
I wish, I wish I could lie
I will, I will try
I will, I will

“Drown" Smashing Pumpkins: Written by B. Corgan


Friday, January 07, 2005

60 dude

You are a Folkie. Good for you.

What kind of Sixties Person are you?
brought to you by

Sleep Walking and Adoption:

On Adoption:
Ok, seven, count them seven, phone conversations today about the subject of adoption. And thanks to the many readers who have e-mailed me saying that I should adopt, and that I would make a great dad, thank you, its all very heart warming, but I must ask, my God, don’t you people read this blog? After re-reading some of my musings, there is no way you would let me baby sit let alone raise a child. I am much more suited to say running a guerilla training camp in Amazon rain forests.

Now, back to the subject, my idea of adopting the 17 ½ year old Korean girl was met with very little enthusiasm by the sweet and kind Mrs. John Q. Public. I blame it on jet-lag, I will bring the subject up again later this evening.

The Day So Far:
Well, fading fast I am, its like I am sleep walking in a dream. A no, no drugs are involved.

Your Quotes for the Weekend:
(Pick one depending on your mood)

To fear love is to fear life, and those who fear life are already three parts dead.
Bertrand Russell, Marriage and Morals (1929) ch.


To fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting. -- Sun Tzu, 300 B.C.

I remain, a rose by anyother name:


Your Poet-Sages for the Week:

I wasnt going to do one this week, but by request:

When I find myself in times of trouble Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom
Let it be
And in my hour of darkness
She is standing right it front of me
Speaking words of wisdom
Let it be
Let it be, let it be
Let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom
Let it be

And when the broken hearted people
Living in the world agree
There will be an answer
Let it be

For though they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see
There will be an answer
Let it be
Let it be, let it be
Let it be, let it be yeah, there will be an answer
Let it be
Let it be, let it be
Let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom
Let it be
Let it be, let it be
Let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom
Let it be

And when the night is cloudy
There is still a light that shines on me
Shine until tomorrow
Let it be I wake up to the sound of music
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom
Let it be
Let it be, let it be
Let it be, let it be
There will be an answer
Let it be
Let it be, let it be
Let it be, let it be
There will be an answer
Let it be
Let it be, let it be
Let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom
Let it be

So, there you go... now get back to work.

I remain,


Billy Jack is my Hero:

Appréciez votre visite!

Thought for the Day:
“If you’re going to grab a Tiger’s tail, you better have a plan for his teeth”
R. Ludlum

Cutting off Fingers
Hey your new Attorney General, the nation’s top cop, is ok with torture. Some of you might think that’s ok, fuck them there Arabs. But, I bet they are the same people who went ballistic when Clinton normalized relations with Vietnam, sighting the fact that old Charlie Cong tortured US POWs.

Folks, hear that flushing sound? It started with the Patriot Act and now with the lawyer for concentration camps in the driver’s seat, the road to hell is going to fly by a lot quicker. Just how long before they start using these “interrogation methods” on US citizens they see has a threat?
We are just a hop skip and a jump from Fundamentalist run “Re-Education Camps” supported by your tax dollars. Hell, maybe even Halliburton could get a no bid contract.

Impeach the little Fucker:
Man, if Clinton would have pulled one tenth the shit the ruling junta has they would of dragged him out on the front lawn of the White House and shot him. It’s about time we impeach W and change him and his pals with war crimes.

He is trading American lives for oil, not to mention the civilians who are getting killed and maimed alone the way. Has anyone even gotten a solid number on the dead and wounded civilians?

I am no dove, fuck with the bull get the horns and all that. I support the war in Afghanistan; I think we should hunt those chicken shit fuckers down and those who support them. But, god-damn, anyone who has watched the History Channel could tell you that old W and the boys fucked up. When are we going to hold him accountable?

Plans for Today:
Grants, grants and more grants, court at 10:00, then teaching this afternoon. An action packed day of fun and excitement. However, I did just get an e-mail from a friend at the Prosecutors Office and they and a few cop friends of mine are going out for cocktails after work. Now, I just might have to make that one, its always nice to get the inside tack on what’s really going down. That and a few of them owe me drinks and bloody marys are sounding good even at this early hour.

On Health:
Today is the first day I feel kind of ok in about 6 weeks. Yes, I am taking my meds and no I didn’t go out with the gang last night, even after the shitty day I had. Hell, I even worked out this morning, I am in training you know.

On Food:
Well, this weekend I am going to try a new recipe for Potato Soup sent to me by SS. Thanks and it sounds great, also I am going to cook about five pounds of shrimp that a friend sent me from “down-home” (they didnt want me to forget what good food tasted like).

Your Word/Phrase of the Day:
Break her off somethin' proper: To sexually satisfy.
(Remember to use it three times in conversation today.)

Plans for the Weekend:
I am blowing off My Man Mitch’s Hitler Youth Rally down in Indy; I would just get myself into trouble. The Sweet and Kind Mrs. John Q. Public will fly in this afternoon and told me on the phone that she has plans for a Hockey game on Saturday. Other than that, I am going to get a much needed hair cut and perhaps shave off my beard. I have been thinking the X-Men Wolverine look might be fun for a week or two.

On children:
Yes, the topic of adoption is still being discussed. But, like I said there are a lot of thing that need to be talked about first.

Your Literary Quote of the Day:
Winston could not definitely remember a time when his country had not been at war...war had literally been continuous, though strictly speaking it had not always been the same war. The enemy of the moment always represented absolute evil. -- George Orwell, 1984
(Yes, stop and think about that one, do you really want to have your children and perhaps your grand-children, garrisoning posts in Iraq.)

Your Bill for the Day:
As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou growest
In one of thine, from that which thou departest;
And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestowest
Thou mayst call thine when thou from youth convertest.
Herein lives wisdom, beauty and increase:
Without this, folly, age and cold decay:
If all were minded so, the times should cease
And threescore year would make the world away.
Let those whom Nature hath not made for store,
Harsh featureless and rude, barrenly perish:
Look, whom she best endow'd she gave the more;
Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish:
She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby
Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die.

Your Saint of the Week:
ST. RAYMOND OF PENYAFORT: Raymond was born between 1175 and 1180 in a little town near Barcelona, Spain. He was educated at the cathedral school in Barcelona and became a priest. Raymond graduated from law school in Bologna, Italy, and became a famous teacher. He joined the Dominican order in 1218. In 1230, Pope Gregory IX asked this dedicated priest to come to Rome. When Raymond arrived, the pope gave him several assignments. One duty was to collect all the official letters of the popes since 1150. Raymond gathered and published five volumes. He also took part in writing Church law. In 1238, Raymond was elected master general of the Dominicans. With his knowledge of law, he went over the order's rule and made sure everything was legally correct. After he had finished, he resigned his position in 1240. Now he could truly dedicate the rest of his life to parish work. He was overjoyed to be in parish work. His compassion helped many people return to God through the sacrament of Reconciliation. Also, Father Raymond asked the famous Dominican, St. Thomas Aquinas, to write a booklet. This booklet would explain the truths of faith in a way that nonbelievers could understand. (We celebrate the feast of St. Thomas on January 28.) Raymond lived nearly one hundred years. He died in Barcelona on January 6, 1275. He was proclaimed a saint in 1601 by Pope Clement VIII. This pope declared him the patron of Church lawyers because of his great influence on Church law.

(May we become people of compassion and understanding for those whom we serve.)

On Movies:
I watched "Billy Jack" last night, the man is my hero. Today I just might look someone up and say "I am going to take my left foot and kick you on the side of your head and there isnt a damn thing you can do about it" ...and yes, I have someone in mind. Still its one of the best movies to come out of the 70's.

Your Quote of the Day:
There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered. Nelson Mandela, 'A Long Walk to Freedom'

Primed for a Fight with a smile on my face; I remain,

JQP esq.

(I blame it on some damn good meds)