Thanks to the fallen troops, and all troops, on Memorial Day.

Today is the day that we remember and honor those who have fallen in the service of their country, and all those who have served. Thank you from a grateful nation; we remember.

Lawyers, guns, and money.

I was the only one at the range today and the range master and I got to talking. I didn't have to call him master. He's a good guy, some kid who's a pistol packin' computer nerd. I have been practicing squeezing my trigger finger without tensing my hand and shot the SHIT out of a five point military target with a .22 Ruger. Srsly, zombies just lay down and die. Again. So I thought I'd try something with some kick. David recommended a .454 which I knew to be a big gun but really didn't think it was a hand cannon, which is what it was. I took the Ruger back to the counter and said 'I want to try the .454 and both the counter guys said 'Whaaat?' They only had one box of ammo so I opted for the .357 magnum instead. 'Opted' because at the range you don't say 'chickened out'. Even on the .357 my finger exercises have improved my shot. When I try the .454 my first goal will be to fire without letting the recoil force the gun up and bopping me on the forehead.

You can go on YouTube and watch videos of people exploding boars and buffaloes with a .454 but I couldn't bring myself to watch them. I don't know why because buddies of mine in the service sent me footage of bad guys getting blowed up real good and I watched those. I guess I don't like the animal killing (buffalo, not insurgents) because what's a buffalo going to do, fire back? No, it's just standing there chewing the cud wondering where all the other buffaloes have gone and the next thing it's whole head is a pink mist. Not sporting.

Bread, Circuses, and Vicodin

So I go to the doc’s for my annual exam and we get to the part where he sticks his finger up my ass. I figure it’s the closest I’ll come to sex with another person that day so maybe afterward we’ll have a cuddle and exchange fake phone numbers. Nu-uh. I’m assuming the position and singing 'I Feel Pretty' while doc is doing what I'm pretty sure is just payback for society making dissection a crime for so long. They can find a 1 cm spot in someone's lung with a wand but the only way to check my prostate is with a rubber glove and a fistful of KY jelly? And it's over too soon, too- I'm left with a lubed up asshole and my pants around my ankles but the doc is gone. I'm looking over my shoulder to see if he's a least thrown a 20 on the table and I'm thinking he could have given me a reach around, but no. I'm also pretty sure that was a condom I saw him throwing away. Suddenly it hits me that I need better health insurance- the Happy Ending Health Insurance Co. There's your health care reform.

One thing I've learned.

When you're buying a car, don't open the trunk and say 'yeah, you could fit a dead hooker back there easy.' You'll never like what the other guy says to that. I should have known this already. A couple of years ago I was pulling into the parking garage at the Bellagio in Las Vegas (best breakfast buffet ever) and security wanted to check my car out. It was a rental and I had no idea how to pop the trunk, so the guard said 'Rental?' and before I could stop myself I said 'Dead hooker'. It's like a tourettes thing. I got the White Glove Screening and while I don't know who all was in the room, I did get on someone's Christmas card list.

Disco Inferno

So Saturday afternoon it’s rainy and wet and around 4:00 the music starts again. I should mention that the Dick Next Door is married to a Polish woman, not bad looking in a girl-next-door way, if the girl next door was the kind to denounce her neighbors as Jews to the secret police. I thought about just going out for a while and letting him run himself down but I didn’t want to get wet and there aren’t a lot of places to go at 4 on a rainy Saturday. Plus I'd had enough.

I sent two of the following and all texts follow in sequence.

Me-

(Dick Next Door), please turn your stereo down. Fair warning; I won’t ask again.

Dick Next Door-

Message 1

you kill me!

Message 2

It is down…although I am sharing my wife’s birthday…but cannot dance with her because what is not loud here is loud with you! You have changed my life

Ok, here he breaks and I should point something out so I don’t hit red on the anus meter. During one of our many discussions, I told him that I don’t care if he’s noisy when he’s having a party because 1) he has to live his life and b) I didn’t want him getting his panties in a wad and calling the cops when I have parties. I also don’t care when he’s watching a movie because the ceilings in the place really fuck with the acoustics and you have to crank it up to hear dialogue but the explosions sound real time. If he had just started out with ‘it’s my wife’s birthday’ I wouldn’t have given a damn. But noisy neighbors are about as easy to straighten out as alkies and after 5 months of this shit I was done and figured I'd let him play his hand. If it comes down to me enjoying my apartment or him dancing to the music of the spheres, fuck him.

Me-

If the noise continues, I will file a complaint with (the place I live) and pursue the matter to resolution. The choice is yours.

Message 3

Wow! You are almost robotic and non responsive!

Message 4

You sadden me…to make such a claim…you treat me like a person who does not care!

Message 5

You have made me aware of your true intentions to debunk my simple life only to compliment your quiet solitude! So I give it to you without disregard!

Message 6

May you live in peace alone…without the comfort of others…without the understanding of those…without the care of the ordinary. Bless you!

Message 7

goodbye from me!

Two hours later:

Message 8

I thought you were my friend…I was wrong?

This is all a little boiled bunny for me. Look, I don't care if you're Tea Leoni in heat, I don't want to get 8 text messages from you every night. (We could have made it work, Tea. Duckovny's a sex addict, it's not like I'd ask you to do anything you thought was weird.) I keep thinking that I’m going to come home and someone will have scratched ‘I will not be ignored!’ on my door with the tip of a knife. One thing though, this was the only time I complained and he really turned his stereo down so that I couldn’t hear it.

Disco Fever

I'm a toon magnet. Some of you already know this about me. The rest of you would if the voices in your head would give you a freakin' break already. I've already moved once since I lived on Capitol Hill; both times to get away from noisy neighbors. I get to my new apartment on the top floor of a high rise- large, view of the river, and the guy next door to me is a snowflake. A special, special snowflake and I am roaching his buzz. I went through the whole talking to him thing, the calling the police thing, the pretending that I gave a damn while we hammered out a solution thing, and now I'm doing the asshole thing. He wants me to text him whenever his music is too loud, so I do. A lot.

About three weeks ago he started getting noisier and I sent him 3 or 4 texts over a week. Finally I'd had it and sent him the following, I've copied the texts exactly as I got them except for the arty line breaks he used to jazz them up:

Me-
(Dick Next Door), I'm counting on you to ensure there is an amicable solution to the noise situation, but I'm not going to keep asking. Please turn your stereo down. cc/file (I did this to piss him off.)

Dick Next Door-
Message one
Why...do we have a problem...you and I! I have given and have confirmed to the needs you have for all this time and without complaint. Shall I continues...

Message two
shall I give...and give to your silence...?...Without you giving...back...to my dance and the sounds that influence that dance...?

Message three
I will always respect you...and treasure your being my neighbor....

Message four
if life is silence for you or me then we will always be in conflict...

Message five
sometimes life is louder than silence...Sometimes...life the sound of enjoyment...fun....spontaneity...and yes..the unpredictability..uncontrolled..and not..

Message six
Predicted...

Message seven
I will be more conscious of my music...as long as you too are are more conscious of what drives other people...please...not only you.

Message eight
Respect...is a street we (both) travel on!

I know, right? Drag queens have more restraint. I bet the guy shits glitter.