The Only Shirt That's Ever Made Me Cry

I never thought a t-shirt could make me cry. I was wrong. RIP Keith and Greg. Viva Carl Palmer.

Jukebox in My Head (selection F-69) "Puppet Man" by the Fifth Dimension

I lI listened to this song, and many more by the Fifth Dimension when I was just a little nipper. It blew me away then and it still does. I could never express my grattitude to my folks for turning me on to music, even before I was born. I know I'd never have been able to get into music as deeply as I do without their influence, and music is probably the greatest gift I ever got. But on to Puppet Man. This song is a motherfucker. I just listened to it three times and it was glorious...some serious mood-elevation. My oh my. [ ]The Fifth Dimension was a "Vocal Group." As a genre, the Vocal Group no longer exists, except maybe in Vegas or on cruises for old-timers, billed as "Doo-Wop Until You Drop" or something like that. Occasionally various members would play instruments, like the Beach Boys or the Jackson 5, but mostly they all just sang. There generally was a main guy but everyone was featured. Three-part harmony is beautiful and it's usually all you need, if even that, but when you get five people who could all be bandleaders in their own right and are monster singers, the results can be spectacular, and nobody did it better than the 5th D. [ ]This is my favorite Fifth Dimension song but for several years it pushed my buttons and kept me awake nights. Marilyn McCoo. Enuff said. I had the biggest crush on her even though I did realize that I was maybe a bit too young, plus I wasn't famous. Man she was smokin' hot and actually she still is, for someone older than I am. I grew up in the deep-ass South during segregation and worse, but I didn't grow up with a racial thing. Any traces I may have had melted away with my heart when I first saw Marilyn McCoo. I wanted to wait until I was a little older, so the age thing wouldn't matter so much, and marry her. I'd stay up past my bedtime with my little transistor radio under the covers, hoping this song would come on, just to hear her sing. [ ]The years that this tune bothered me were the "boner in class" years. I guess third grade was the peak but it lasted for several years, and this song came out right in the middle of the spontaneous-boner period. Sometimes it'd be hard to control that rascal, and for some reason it seemed to be the worst in class. It was mostly due to having hot teachers, but sometimes out of nowhere you'd sprout a boner in class, and you'd pray that you didn't get called-on to go to the board until the swellin' went down. In fact that was what led me to believe that God was real, because I never once got called to the board if I was sporting wood. I'm kidding but it's true. I remember some poor bastard would get called up to the board when he was owning a boner. He'd have his hands in his pockets and would walk up to the front of the class hunched-over. Even the girls would laugh. I'm glad I didn't suffer that trauma. Anyway I don't specifically remember Marilyn giving me a boner but I wouldn't be surprised. She did get me all hot and bothered, for a kid anyway. [ ]But why did this song give me a boner? Was it just because Marilyn was so fine? No, it was the lyrics. She's telling her "puppet man" (lucky son-of-a-bitch) that she'll do anything he wants. With killer lines like "I'm a puppet just for you" or "I'll be a crackerjack 'til the crack of dawn" or "Raise a finger I'll perform" or "Wind me up and let me go," who could blame me if I popped a boner? Heck it still gives me one today. But it was the hook of the song, the classic line "If you wanna see me do my thang...pull my strang" that did the trick. On that one little part she put a Southern drawl on it and it was just perfect. Oh, Marilyn McCoooooooooooooo...I got a boner for yooooooooooou. [ ]The song is groovy and funky and happy and bouncy and "up." It starts out with a cool, Ringo-esque drum fill and then the band comes in and within seconds you're bopping your head. Seriously, you will be. Try it and see. They hired the finest session musicians of the day, and you could listen to just the instrumental tracks if you wanted to; they were always dead-on and smoking, but it wouldn't have been the Fifth Dimension. The vocals took it to another level, and beyond. The bridge or pre-chorus or whatever is a singalong masterpiece. On the chorus they just sing "puppet man" again and again, but with the most incredible harmonies. That's a sign of a great band when they can sing just two words in the whole chorus and really make it count. [ ]As great as the rest of the song is it's the last minute or so of the tune that does it for me. It's like the clouds part and the Sun comes out and all the angels are singing. There'a a part where the whole band does a syncopated lick with the vocals. They're only singing one word, "man," but they stretch it to multi-syllables and it's just breathtaking. They're all singing "Puppet man...Puppet man-an-an-an-an-an-an-an-an-an...PUPPET MAN." To this day it's one of my favorite pieces of recorded music. When I was listening to that part I was waving my arms, conducting the entire Universe. Really, I was. [ ]That's my take on a great song from a great band. They had so many hits. If you have any interest in hearing some spectacular music and vocals, I highly urge you to get one or more of their albums, preferably on CD, but whatever medium you prefer, just anything but YouTube. I just checked and you can get most of their CDs, brand-new, for less than $10 shipped. You'll thank me later. Boy howdy that McCoo was a humdinger. They also had a song called "Last Night I Didn't Get to Sleep at All." Funny...the same thing happened to me, from thinking about Marilyn, and the next day I'd be tired in class, but still able to cop a boner at the drop of a hat. It was Marilyn's fault. She shouldn't have been so hot. "Puppet Man" (sorry, you'll have to copy/paste): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lohkN5f3Yo0

Oopsie of the Day

Ouch.

Right in Front of Our Faces: "Satan Shoes"

[ ]So you still think the Devil isn't real? You may have heard the saying that the Devil's best trick was making people believe he doesn't exist. Kevin Spacey brought that line to the movies. Interesting that a Satanist himself, and a lowlife pedo for good measure, would say this line, but that's how they roll. They know good and well whom their master is. Here we have an outstanding example of someone, in this case rapper Lil Nas X, showing the one he serves, and this is a doozie. Lil Nas X has partnered with Nike to release the Nike Air Max 97, aka the "Satan Shoe." It's a steal at $1,018. Naturally this edition is limited to 666 pairs. Reserve your pair today! [ ]Satan Shoes. That's fucked-up. Maybe it's just a good old-fashioned publicity stunt, right? Uh-huh. Laet's have a closer look at this shoe, shall we? First, naturally it's red and black, Satan's colors...red for blood of course, and black for...well, just black. Blackness. Satan's deal. Whatever you do don't let all this New-Age "illumination" bullshit sway you. God, Yeshua, is the one TRUE source of light. Satan MASQUERADES as an angel of light, but his gig is DARKNESS, period. Evil hates the light. It's simple. These shoes interestingly are marked with a Bible verse, Luke 10:18. Why would the Satan Shoe have a Bible verse on it? Because it's the one that famously says "I beheld Satan as lightning fall from Heaven." Interesting, eh? [ ]There's where the lightning bolt comes in. We've seen it everywhere again and again, ad nauseum, in everything from music videos to corporate logos, time and time again. It's also where the rather pricey price comes in. They cost $1,018. It's all in the numbers. Oh, look...there's the pentagram...again. How utterly original. Speaking of things we've seen over and over and over, wouldn't you think that shoes that sell for over a grand would try, at least try, to have something original? You'd think, wouldn't you, but like the shoes, their hands are tied. They don't have any choice in the matter. They have to show their allegiance. They're in the club, and it's like a secret handshake. Once they sign that dotted line they have to wear their heart on their sleeve as it were. In this image we see yet again the one-eye symbolism. They ALL do it. The pyramid is missing in action in this image but I'm sure it's around there somewhere. [ ]The pentagram is upside-down. Rightside-up a pentagram is just a pentagram but upside-down it represents Lucifer. Just more publicity? Maybe, but I don't think so. Each pair is individually numbered X/666 in red stitching, so there's your 666. But here's the kicker...above the sole is a clear channel filled with a liquid that contains red dye and a drop of...are you sitting down...human blood. That's right...Nike is selling shoes that contain human blood. It's not a joke. It's one thing when some rapper talks about Satan but when a major corporation, who've always had a "family" reputation, despite child labor and all that good stuff, sells a "Satan Shoe" that actually contains human blood, isn't that worth taking notice of? Not that long ago if they'd tried to pull this they'd have been boycotted worldwide, if not run out of town and burned in effigy. I doubt they'd have tried to pull it off even a decade ago, but times have changed. Nowadays it's "cool." Funny how the Good Book says that there will come a time when evil is taken for good and good evil. We're there, folks. Wake up. [ ]Satan Shoes...with real blood...made by an old company which up until now had a wholesome reputation...who'd'a thunk it? Some of us have been seeing this darkness ramping-up. I'm pretty hard to shock when it comes to Satan shit but this is shocking. I get the allure of all this shit...it's "edgy" and all, and while some people are repelled by and afraid of the dark, we're all fascinated by it. It doesn't mean you have to sell your soul. Hell I'd buy a pair myself if I had ridiculous amounts of cash lying around. They're pretty badass shoes. The blood thing might bother me but yeah, I'd get a pair. They'll be worth a bloody fortune one day. I wonder who'll get the last pair...#666/666. Wouldn't that be something? [ ]There you have it...right in front of your face. It couldn't be any more in-your-face. Still want to say it's just a publicity stunt? That's cool. As long as your beliefs don't include hurting anyone or anything, which the true Satanists' beliefs 100% DO, then I respect them and I support your right to express them. But shoes that contain human blood? These people know whom they serve. So do I. One day we ALL may have to make a choice, and it may not be easy, or obvious. Choose wisely, my friend. Eternity is a long time.

The State Motto of Alabama

[ ]I love this photo. Someone has taken a photo of Jeff (Can't smoke 'em if you don't got 'em) Sessions, with a perfect expression on his face, and superimposed it over a "green screen" as it were. Classic. Long story short Jeff hates weed, and it's people like him that make Alabama the laughing stock of the Lower-48, and rightly so. In fact they should redraw the map of the US and flip Alabama around backward, because that's the kind of state we are, and it's people like Jeff who're responsible. I've always wondered what would happen if he were faced with a situation where, say, a family member was prescribed Marinol, but he had to okay it. Would his outdated ethics kick-in, or would his heart, and brain, for that matter" This photo is hliarious, and yet incredibly sad and ironic. It's a study in irony in fact, and I might get it put on a t-shirt, with our new state slogan. [ ]The state bird is the Yellowhammer, and the state motto used to be "Thank God for Mississippi." Until a couple of decades or so ago that was true, and why it was the state motto. Since they've been taking polls, on everything from education, driving habbits, income, hospitalization for stupid injuries ("Hey, y'all...watch 'is!"), general tomfuckery and idiots like Jeff Sessions, we'd have been #50 if it hadn't been for Mississippi. We managed to squeak in ahead of them in one or two things but they smoked us a while back. In a few categories we managed to be #49, but now we're at our rightful place, #50. At least we could get with the program and make weed legal, but not as long as Jeff's in session. Until a new amendment is passed, until further notice the official motto is: "Would somepne please get Jeff Sessions a brownie?" We stand by it.

Yet Even Still More Beast Numbers

Here we go yet again. 666 likes. I love it.

Yet Still More Beast Numbers

[ ]I love watching "livestreams" of NASA missions, just to read the comments. It's true comedy. I saw I was viewer #7,666. Another Beast-number sighting. I get that it's random. I also get a kick out of it.

Sticker of the Day

That's funny.

Comment of the Day

"Did you see the bubble?" - a viewer in the chat of a livestream of a spacewalk to repair the ISS. BTW, MoJo shop commented "Nice day for a swim."

Rock Bios: How Did Bruford Play Like That? Part 2 (WARNING: Drummer-Related Post)

[ ]NOTE: I TRIED TO POST THESE IN REVERSE ORDER BUT FOR SOME REASON IT WON'T DO THAT, SO READ PART 1 BELOW FIRST. HAVE A NICE DAY. [ ]All that superhuman playing still couldn't explain the vibe that just blasted from the drums. It's no secret that many musicians back then (as today I guess) took a little toot before a gig or a session, and Bill was no different. I never played drums on blow but I did try it a time or two back in the day (hated it) but I accounted for that possibility and that's not it. Not that he was or wasn't tooting but either way it wasn't drugs. Lots of guys play high. If anything it fucks-up their playing. [ ]Anyway Bill mentioned casually that he'd had a huge fight with his girlfriend just before he left for the studio. It was bad enough that they broke up after that. He was too humble to mention that it made him play like a man possessed. Well, there you have it. I understand now, after all these years. I'd never have guessed in a million years but I sure do get it. Wow. I don't know too many Bruford fand who'd be too interested in that maybe but my drum-dork boner was off the charts. A fight with the missus...whod'a thunk it? He was letting out all that anger, and it just happened to be exactly when he recorded that part of the song. It's perfect. It comes straight out of the gate already redlined, and Bill (and his girlfriend) is why. He was getting closure on the drums. Unreal. It may sound woo-woo but to me that's the Universe talking to us, and it's recorded to hear again and again, thank God. [ ]Talk about a snapshot in time...with ALL due respect I doubt he'd have played it the same the day before or after. BTW ol' Bill did just fine after that. He met someone soon after and he's still happily married decades alter. Even finally knowing where that X-factor came from doesn't make the drumming any less astonishing, but it explains a lot. Like reading about "'am or cheese" it put a grin on my face and closed another mystery...a big one. Not many people would care, but it's something that's actually bothered me for decades, and I KNEW something was going on during that recording. I'm happy to know it wasn't something like he'd just sold his soul to Satan that afternoon, but I picked up on something every time I heard it, and I'm proud for being able to tune into that, just from a recording. [ ]Speaking of tune, it's really just a frequency deal, although it's more than just the music's frequency...it's also Bill's, AND his mood's. Everything in the Universe is a frequency, on the most basic level. It depends on how sensitive someone is to different frequencies, and frequencies have always been my thing. I'm hooked on sonics. Bill being pissed-off at his girlfriend translated into a one-of-a-kind performance with a mysterious but discernable vibe that translated into the recording and then bounced into me. It came full-circle twice. How about that? I sleep much better knowing all these things. Rock on.

Rock Bios: How Did Bruford Play Like That? Part 1 (WARNING: Drummer-Related Post)

[ ]Like my friend David D. Martin- gimme a Rock bio and I'll watch it or read it. Any music really. I'd watch a doc about the Banana Splits. Heck, I watched a doc about the Archies, and they were a cartoon band. I wish I had a dollar for every Rock bio I've seen. Talk about making a living from the music business. I'll watch a music bio about anybody and their auntie...I don't care who it is. But give me a bio of a band I love and it's like food or something. And when I can find answers to musical questions about this or that recording, even decades later, it's a real treat. [ ]Back when ELP's stunning "Tarkus" album came out, there was a voice at the end of the impromptu Boogie-Woogie tune that was originally just a jam honoring legendary engineer Eddy Offord but was so good they used it on the record, and we didn't know what it said. It was a voice that obviously didn't belong to the band. It sounded maybe like a deep-voiced woman but it was hard to tell. It was a thick, drawl-y and heavy British accent. We thought we could make out the word "cheese" but that was about it. It sounded almost like the call letters and a nickname for a radio station, like maybe it said "W-M-O-Cheese." We didn't know what the hell it said, but you could hear somebody in the band (apparently Carl Palmer) repeat it and they all cracked-up as the song faded out, so it must've been funny. [ ]Maybe 100 years later I read Keith Emerson's brilliant bio "Pictures of an Exhibitionist." He told the story about it and solved an ancient mystery. It turns out that the voice belonged to the cleaning lady who'd tidy-up the studio. Apparently she was a real character. She kept little stashes of booze hidden all around the place which they'd find but didn't care about. I guess it kept her jolly. Often in the studio they'd get rolling on a song and lose track of time and forget to order dinner. The only thing open was a nearby sandwich shop but they were about to close and usually had sold out of most things by closing time. They asked her to ring the shop and see what they had left. She said "They only got 'am or cheese." So THAT'S it! Sometimes I wonder why I get a boner for this kind of stuff but I do. [ ]But I get an even stiffer Woodrow when I learn "secret" drum information, and when it comes to Bill Bruford, maybe the most interesting drummer to ever pick up sticks, it's a case of Elongatus Maximus. Bill was talking about recording "Close to the Edge," to me one of the most amazing pieces of music ever recorded, and for a million reasons, and the drumming (along with every other note from the other guys) is second to none. Since I got my first real kit I've farted along with that album probably a thousand times, hundreds anyway, and I couldn't play it perfectly if you held a gun to my head. Before you shoot...not many people could. [ ]Everything about the album is incredible. Many Yes fans feel it's their best, and I can't disagree. There's nothing else like it, not even close. Again it goes for all the guys but it wouldn't have been the same thing in any way without Bruford. He was talking about the recording process and how the title track was recorded in sections over however many days it was, and spliced into one long song. I knew it was done in sections. The edits are flawless and noise-free. Back then they had to physically cut the 2" tape with a razor blade at a precise spot, not half a mm to either side, and then tape the tape back together. Nowadays they do it automatically by pushing a button. [ ]I could tell it was edited because while the sections flowed perfectly into each other it was obvious that the whole sound had changed, and not just the instrumentation. The whole ambience changed. Although Bruford's snare had that trademark "POONK" sound going throughout the song, there was one spot where it sounded much drier, and it had more of a "POP" than a "POONK" or a "KANK." I thought maybe it was just room acoustics that day or sitars taking up the "ringing" frequencies, or the barometric pressure or biorhythms or the alignment of the planets or whatever, but it was less nebulous than that. [ ]When they recorded "Close" they were still basically a "bar" band, although a successful one, and they still had to schlep their own gear. These days a drummer of Bill's caliber would have half a dozen kits given to him for free by whatever company he endorsed. with a dedicated kit just for the recording, but Bill used his one kit for everything. They were also playing regularly around England during the recording, and Bill would have to break down his kit after every session and set it up in a club somewhere and then do it all over again. To a drum dork that was interesting, but then he went further and said that he'd set up the kit for a session and the heads would be all beat-up from last night's gig, and he didn't change heads. That's why one part sounded different to me. He said that the snare sound was different on every section but I couldn't tell that until I went back and listened to it under the microscope. It was a trip and also nice to know they were human. [ ]But what tripped me out, and I'm talking about completely fucked me up, was Bill's drumming in the intro, after the birds and the "boil" on the Hammond. I can't even describe what it is that makes that drumming so special, even to other drummers, but some of them know anyway. But in layman-drummer terms first and foremost it's frenetic and wild, but frighteningly on the beat. To this day I don't know how he played like that, even knowing it's Bill. He plays 16th-notes between the ride and the snare, which is a considerable jump, especially if you have a row of toms in between, like he did. It's so smooth and perfect it's like that's all he had set up on his kit, but then of course he comes in with the quirky-ass fills that come out of nowhere, because he can. [ ]He'll be playing 16ths on every beat of the measure, which is all the notes you can play, but breaking it up into different patterns that weave around the beat and sometimes give the illusion that it's speeding up or slowing down (because of the amount of notes played), but the tempo stays the same. Bill will be flying along with flurries of 16ths and then out of nowhere do a fill that goes from 16 notes a measure to four or five, and then back into the main rhythm. It's like the song slams on the brakes and does a perfect tumble like a gymnast in a routine, lands perfectly back on its feet, right on the beat. That Bill.

Quote of the Day

"If the Spud fits, wear it." - Devo

Another Quote of the Day (Say WHAT?)

"We hold these truths to be self-uh-evident. All men and women created by...go you...you know the...you know the thing." - Joe Biden

Quote of the Day (Say WHAT?)

"Poor kids are just as bright and just as talented as white kids." - Joe Biden

Quaalude Story #15 or So (rewritten)

[ ]It's been a while since I told this story. I try not to repeat myself too often, but some stories are classics, and it's fun to go back over it all again and keep it fresh in my mind. I talked to an old friend today. Sadly he has cancer and only a few weeks or months to live, but he's in a great headspace, considering. We talked about old times for almost 45 minutes. Marc's a great guy and he was a great friend to me back then. We hung out all the time after the gig, and one night we decided to go to this crazy place called Al's Crossroads. It was named for its geographic location, but judging by the type of place it was, I always wondered if sweet ol' Al had maybe sold his soul to the Devil at the Crossroads. [ ]Marc's sister Eve came to see us that night, and she'd brought a friend. We were playing in the Larry Russo Trio, which was my second professional band, and I say "professional" only because I got paid a salary. I was green as fuck but Larry, like Skip Perry in my first pro band right before Larry, and Marc took me under their wing and taught me so much. I loved Larry and Marc and I was glad to be able to tell Marc how much I appreciated his kindness and education all those years ago, and for getting me laid, twice. That night before we left the Library Lounge he took me aside and said "Eve's friend is interested in you. You could take pot luck, or go with a winner." Eve's friend was cool as shit. I'm not a gamblin' man, with money anyway, and I took the sure thing. [ ]Back then besides private clubs there were only three bars that stayed open all night- another godforsaken place in Green Springs that I can't believe I can't remember the name of but where they snorted huge lines off the toilet tank in the bathroom, Michael's Steakhouse, and Al's. We usually went to Michael's. We knew the owners. They'd come to see us when they could and when we went there we were treated like royalty. They had a steak sandwich, and I guess still do, that would just melt in your mouth. The only thing like it, in the 'Ham anyway, was Ireland's restaurant's steak biscuits. As "food critic" Dennis Washburn used to say back then, when he liked a particular dish, "I MEAN!" The only thing I can figure is there must've been a good band at Al's, not to mention that the story probably would've turned out differently. It was packed but we found a table. I ordered a Heinekin for Eve's friend and myself. I'm sorry but I can't remember her name so far. She had short-ish blond hair, green eyes and she seemed to be as sweet as the day is long, plus she was seriously-hot. Eve was a certified sweetheart and I already knew that, so I figured her friend must be the same, and she was. [ ]We were getting along swimmingly. I hadn't really had a chance to check her out much until then. She was fairly tall, maybe 5-7 or so, and her body was pretty much flawless. She was neither fat nor skinny, but perfect for me. Normally I'm not a fan of short hair; it's never been a deal-breaker or anything, and she wasn't "butch" at all, but she was so pretty and engaging that it started to look really good on her. I was still feeling the wonderful effects of the natural buzz you get from playing music, and I really wasn't interested in getting wasted. A little birdie had told me she liked me anyway, and I wasn't worried about having to get her loaded. But things can change on a dime. [ ]Truth be told I was having a great time and I DID want to party, only not by getting bombed on alcohol. I had some smoke and Sister and I were about to go out to the car and smoke some, or maybe even fire it up in the club, which you could do if it was packed and you were cool about it. Nobody gave a shit back then, and the whole place was a giant cloud of cigarette smoke anyway. Before we left I made a random comment that would change the course of the evening. I said "I wish we had some Quaaludes." It was like something out of a Cheech and Chong movie...somehow a guy in the next booth heard me, and all of the sudden this head popped around the backrest. It belonged to a guy with long hair, a beard and a trucker cap. He said "So...y'all need some QUAAludes?" Timing is everything. "Sure, man" I said. We did the deal right there, and Sister and I took one. I only remember about twenty minutes after that, for a good little stretch of time anyway. I remember Marc and I still being in our monkey suits (tuxedos), talking and laughing with Eve and Girlfriend, but it faded to gray for a bit after that. [ ]For those of you who weren't around during the 'Lude heyday, I kinda feel bad for you, and glad too. Number one they were fun, and they'd fuuuuuuuuck you up, but the tradeoff with Quaaludes was that nearly everybody I know who did them more than once or twice ended up wrecking at least one car while on them. Maybe thet's why they took them off the market. They really did work, and work very well, for their intended purpose, sleep, but when mixed with even a little alcohol it was an entirely different story. Blackouts weren't uncommon. Taken alone, which I usually did, they were fine, and one of the best buzzes on the planet (RIP, Quaaludes). We didn't drink more than two beers I don't think, but then again I can't remember. It's not like you pass out...you still keep doing things, sadly sometimes driving, but you can't remember a damn thing, often for several hours. That's where friends came in. They'd tell you all the crazy shit you did the night before, and many Quaalude stories, even when told about yourself, were told to you by others. It was very interesting but obviously very frightening, and dangerous. [ ]I'll never forget the night I ran up on this gal who'd run her car into a ditch. I was on my way home and I hadn't been drinking, so I stayed with her until a cop drove by, which they did about every twenty minutes. Her car was most definitely in a ditch. The ditch had won but she wasn't ready to give up just yet. Her car was sticking almost straight up into the air at a 90-degree angle, half in the ditch and half above the road. Her engine was smoking and her tires were spinning wildly in mid-air. It was Summer and her window was down. It didn't take long to know she'd taken a Quaalude, and I'd already guessed she had when I first saw her tires spinning. Either the driver had passed out or been hurt and their foot was stuck on the accelerator, or they'd taken Quaaludes. Luckily (sort of) it was the latter. [ ]I looked in the window and saw that she was okay. "How's it goin' tonight?" I asked. "Great" she said. "Why don't you turn off your car and hand me the keys and we'll wait for some help together" I asked. "Thanks," she said, "but I'll be fine. I just need to back outta here." "I don't think that's gonna happen" I replied. "No, I'm fine. I just need to back out." She was so gone that she didn't even know that her car was halfway up in the air and that she was facing straight down, and she couldn't understand why her car wasn't moving. Typical Quaalude story, ha-ha. She wasn't slurring her words much, and she didn't have that smell that eminates from your breath and your whole body when you've been drinking all night. She'd probably had a glass of wine but I knew she'd taken a Quaalude. "Sorry, but it's not happening tonight" I said, and reached in and turned off the car and took her keys. She didn't fight me, and we had a funny conversation until a policeman happened to drive by. No doubt she spent the night in the pokey but at least she was okay. I doubt she even remembered seeing me, but I guarantee I saved her from throwing a rod. She was really revvin' that engine and nearly every drop of oil was probably gone. [ ]Anyway one minute we were at Al's, and the next moment, which was daylight and six hours later, we were standing in Sister's bedroom, taking our clothes off. We both snapped out of our stupor as we had almost finished undressing. We both looked around the room and at each other, with the typical "How the hell did we get HERE?" look on our faces. We stood there for a few seconds, admiring the view. I didn't have a clue how we'd ended up there but I was fine with it. She was the first to speak. "Well...it sure looks like those Quaaludes are an easy ticket to the bedroom." Classic. "I...I don't remember how we got here" she said as she blushed. "It's okay. I don't either" I said. "Umm...well...since we're here and like this, do you think we should continue?" she asked. "We made it this far" I replied. There's no way in hell I could've said no. I'd laid my tux out on the bed, and she carefully picked it up and put it on a hanger and smoothed it out, naked as a Jaybird, and returned to me. It was incredibly hot, but maybe I'm just old-school. Lordy she was fine. We saw each other several times after that and I don't know why we didn't keep seeing esch other. There were no problems whatsoever with her. She was a good one. [ ]Well, that's my Quaalude story again...at least story #15 or so anyway...there's several more. Some classic stories are lost to the Ether, but that's how it goes. The old-timers remember...kinda. I have to thank Quaalude Dude for hooking us up that night, and God for not getting into a car wreck, not to mention regaining consciousness as I was in the middle of undressing next to a beautiful woman, only I didn't know how I'd gotten there and it seems like a dream at first but By George it's real. Luckily we came-to almost naked and about to have a wonderful, wonderful time until that afternoon, and we arrived alive. And boy, did we know we were alive. Thanks a lot, Girlfriend. I'm sorry I can't remember your name at the moment. I hope you're doing amazingly well. Don't do drugs. You might end up with your ass in a ditch. Then again you just might pitch a bitch with a girl who's not a witch. Never know. It's a roll of the dice. Either way, have a nice day.

Bad Band Jokes: "Herbal-Porn"

[ ]From the early days of playing in Generic Band on, I loved to get all geeked-up for gigs. Sometimes I liked to get jaw-grindingly high, and I turned every person in nearly every band I played in on to my habit, and they got hooked too. Was I into blow? Hell no. I hate that shit...always have and always will. Meth? Fuck no. To this day I've never even seen any in person. Speaking of blow, many times people who saw me play were certain I was doing blow, and would always be shocked when I'd turn them down, and anyone who'd turn down free coke really doesn't like it. Kids at frat parties would get offended, because they actually were doing it, and felt snubbed when I declined, as if I were thumbing my nose at the quality of their product. They'd always say "No, man...this stuff is REALLY good." My stock reply every time was "I don't do that shit, and neither should you." With weed of course it was a different story, and not just because I loved weed and hated coke. "Weed" people were much more on my wavelength. "Coke" people usually gave me the heebie-jeebies. [ ]So what was it that made people certain that I was doing drugs, and yeilding the same effects? Herbs, man. Herbs, plus roots, berries, flowers, along with vitamins, minerals, supplements and such. I'd come up with various formulas that could give you energy, boost your immune system, elevate your mood or knock you out cold, and we all took advantage of that stuff. O' and I were in Generic Band and Bud Greene and we were already doing that stuff so the other guys joined-in pretty quickly. They loved it. It really worked. I had a basic plan and a "special occasion" plan. We really got into it a bit more in the Generic days, mainly because we did all this crazy music like Zappa, King Crimson and Devo, plus these insane, intricate original compositions in 13/8 and stuff like that, and it took lots of energy and concentration to pull that stuff off and do it justice, which we did. { ]My formula included nutrition. You're amped-up and ramped-up from playing music anyway, and when you add to that load you should add nutrients and vitamins to support the body when it's in "gig mode." I found the perfect vitamin formula. I think they still make it and I think the name was "Nature-Made," but I do remember it came with a money-back guarantee and it shouted from the package in big letters: "GUARANTEED BURST OF ENERGY!" They really worked too, and I usually only took two at a time. They had a wide range of vitamins and minerals, plus things like wheatgrass and alfalfa, and I thunk even Spirulina, plus some herbs I'm pretty sure, and I could tell a big difference if I was out of them. Drinking lots of water was on the menu too. [ ]The thing we took most often, until it was banned anyway, was an herb called "Ma Huang." Here we pronounce it like "Mah Whahng." There was a brand called "Chi Power" that came in a three-pack of capsules. Along with everything else, two was usually plenty, or occasionally three if it was a special occasion or if we'd played until 3am, packed up our shit and then driven 250 miles that morning, which we did a lot. As to why it was banned (it's now back on the market), the Latin name, Ephedra sinica, might give you a clue. Basically it's herbal speed. I didn't know as much about it as I do now but I knew it rasied your heartbeat, which isn't always a good thing, but our heartrates were elevated anyway, and the difference wasn't but a few BPMs, and not like your heart was beating out of your chest or anything like that. If it had been I wouldn't have taken it, much less put my friends at risk. The Chi Power came in cellophane with a blue label, and I think it was 99 cants. I used to buy it by the box and save another 50%. I kept everything in my "medicine bag," which was one of those familiar and handy purple Crown-Royal bags. [ ]The Ma Huang worked for everybody, as did the mega-vitamin blend. They were fun. In addition to the energy boost there was a boost in mood too. That stuff was fun. That was the standard formula, and was more than enough in terms of effectiveness, but especially in the Generic Band we took some extra things for special occasions. They were a lot more expensive than the vitamins and Chi Power, but they took things to yet another level, and the effects started to resemble those of actual drug use. In fact part of the fun of it was being able to get really high...a fun, "up," let-it-rip buzz that rivaled anything drugs could do, only it was natural, and legal, not to mention about 1/50th of the cost. It wouldn't keep you awake for ten days straight, taking apart and putting back together a toaster, and there wasn't any crash at all, which was really the best part. For one thing it wasn't chemicals, and the vitamins minerals and such replaced depleted ones in the body. As high as we might fly, and most times stay up enjoying the company and whatnot until sunrise, you could always sleep like a baby the next morning. [ ]There was B-12 in the vitamin blend already but for a while we got into B-12 "poppers" as we called them. It was liquid B-12 in the vivid red color like the injectable form, with gel or glycerine or something that made it thicker so it wouldn't drip out of your nose. Speaking of nose, it was meant to be taken in through the nose. It came in tiny plastic tubes that contained a few CCs of liquid. You'd break off the tip and snort it for all you were worth. They were expensive and hard to find sometimes and we wanted to get every molecule out of the tubes, so we snorted those things so hard we'd be leaned all the way up and up on our tiptoes. It's quite possible that some of the kids heard us snorting to high heaven and thought we were doing the real thing. People might not think that a vitamin could get you high, but B-12 is an exception, especially when injected. Ask anyone who's ever gotten a B-12 shot- it's both an enery boost and a serious mood-elevator, and it lasts a long time. It's a serious buzz. Snorting it isn't quite as intense but it's pretty close, as there's lots of blood vessels in the nose and it goes straight to the bloodstream. It's a rush (said Limbaugh). And it's good for you. [ ]Then there was this stuff called Rocket Fuel. It was a brown liquid that came in a dropper bottle. I don't remember what all was in it but it had three kinds of Ginseng. Ginseng has been used for centuries to boost energy and mood, among many other things. It's a blood tonic. It stimulates blood flow and it works with the kiver and kidneys to help purify the blood. It looked and tasted like maybe strong rootbeer or Sassafrass exteact. Sometimes we'd put it in our beer. There was a product called Energy Now. They had different blends with Gotu Kola and stuff, and some had Ma Huang. It worked fine but wasn't as potent. I'd keep those around for when I was running out of the other stuff. [ ]The most savage compound we ever took was "Raw A." One day Randy and I were in a health-food store, checking out the herbal-energy things and hoping to maybe find the next big thing, and boy, did we. I noticed a bottle marked "Raw Adrenal." I thought "WTF" and picked it up. It was actual adrenaline, harvested from the adrenal glands of sheep, after they've been turned into sweaters and lamb chops. It sounded like something out of "Fear and Loathing." We looked at each other and grinned. It was a little pricey but we knew we had to try it. Dang...it was raw alright. I don't think it was quite as strong as human Adrenaline but it was some shit. A true Adreneline buzz is a thing to behold. [ ]I've only had one full-blown Adrenaline buzz, back in high school. My grandmother had just given me her old Plymough Belvedere. It was an awesome car, but the tires were as bald as some white dudes' heads these days. It was raining, and I was headed down a steep hill that bottomed-out and went straight back up. A car came toward me half in my lane and I had to swerve. It was all in slow-motion, literally. I was only going probably 15mph tops, but when the car started to slide it was all over. It slowly approached a 1'-thick concrete post tied with cables, which I thought would stop me, but the car was so heavy it just rolled over it like nothing, pulling two other posts out with it. There was a sheer cliff, a straight drop-off for maybe 15-20' and still steeply downhill below that, and I rolled the Belvey straight down it. [ ]It tumbled about three times and landed with the driver's-side window up. I was unhurt, but then I saw smoke pouring from under the hood. Although I knew it probably wasn't going to blow up, my reptile brain took over, and movie scenes flashed in my head...car goes over cliff...car blows up...and King Adrenaline kicked-in. I put my foot on the steering wheel and climed out the window. I scurried up a hill and a straight-up cliff in about three seconds, in the rain, cliff slick as owl shit, and I'm not joking. When I got to the top my arms and legs were still windmilling, and I litterally shot a foot or two off the ground, just like a cartoon character. It was wild. I stood there breathing through my teeth like a geeked-out psycho, holding my arms out like a monkey and looking down at the poor Belvey, with just a wisp of smoke coming from under the hood. Oh, well...better to be safe than sorry, and at least I can say I know what a true Adrenaline buzz is. I have zero doubt I could've lifted that heavy-ass car if I'd needed to. I was so high that instead of going to a neighbor to call the cops and the parental units, I walked home, a mile or so and uphill, just to come down a peg just to be able to vibrate in the same realm as everyone else, who weren't geeked on Adrenaline. I seriously doubt any pill could do that but I could be wrong, and I never want to find out. That was a heavy experience. [ ]I remember the first time we took that shit on a gig, as usual we figured we'd need to take three times the recommended dose, which with this particular substance, was there for a reason. All I can really remember about that night without taxing my brain too much was feeling like Animal from the Muppets and throwing my head back with my eyes bugging out, and probably having to stop myself from howling through the roof at the Moon, and feeling a bit like the creature that John Hurt turned into in the movie "Altered States." No wonder people thought we did coke. Speaking of Dummy Dust, you could snort enough blow to stop your heart before you could get that high. Give me Mother Nature's recipies any day. We had to laugh at how fun it was, and without the side-effects, or cost, of what I call "stupid drugs." [ ]I can't imagine ever wanting to, or having to pay for, a high like that with drugs. Adrenaline is a natural feel-good chemical, at least for the first few hours. Long-term, like with a methhead or whatever, it's toxic as fuck to the body but that's another story. We even checked our heartrates, elevated some anyway, and they were maybe 7BPMs faster...no big deal considering we were flying. Adrenaline also causes a huge release of endorphins, the body's natural painkillers, since normally Adrenaline signals fight-or-flight and possible pain, and that's an intense high in itself. Every part of your brain and body are working in harmony and at nearly full-bore, and if you tried to ramp it up much more you'd crash and burn. We never took it often, only at selected gigs. I remember one gig in Generic Band at a huge Toga party, where we all got hooted-up on Raw-A, Chi Power, snortable B-12 and of course the Guaranteed-Burst-of-Energy vitamins, and God only knows what else, and I left with an extra-fine "Togaesse," and there was another (from Sylacauga no less) waiting for me back at the Rosser Hotel. Double the herbs and stuff...double the fun? Maybe. [ ]So I said all this to tell the joke. First I have to say...you know what makes a great band? Talent? It helps. A PA system? It's been known to happen. Great songs? Sure. But it's the ability to keep yourselves occupied in a positive way whan you're faced with "Hurry-Up-and-Wait Syndrome." Some bands resort to drugs or alcohol or fighting onstage, but a good band will do things like smoke reefer (reefer is okay) or shoot fireworks or rehearse vocal parts or write songs or make up stupid little skits...whatever it takes to pass the time before the gig without being wasted by the time you hit the stage. O' and I made up a stupid scene from an imaginary Oriental porn movie, based on a couple of the herbal ingredients. "Dong Quai" and "Ma Huang" sound funny to begin with, but we translated them into someone speaking English but with a heavy accent. [ ]"Dong Quai" sounded like "Don't cry," and "Ma Huang," pronounced "Mah-whahng" should be self-explanatory. In our movie there was a beautiful Oriental babe giving some guy a hummer. For the visuals we'd mimic a bj, complete with tongue-in-cheek. She'd be going to town on the guy but for some reason she'd start to cry. The guy would say "Dong Quai...it's just Ma Huang!" Then we'd laugh. It's still funny now. Yes I realize we were sickos, but that's as bad as we ever got. I'm having the most intense feeling of Deja-Vu right now, as if I've typed every word before, peck by peck. It's intense, and I very rarely have Deja-Vu. I don't think I typed this above...maybe in another post...but I don't think so. Weird. Anyway, there's the joke. Orange you glad you stuck around for it? Maybe you had to be there but we thought it was hilarious, and it kept us from having to do drugs. The end.

The Humble Bandana (It Could Even Get You Laid)

[ ]Ah, the humble bandana. Actually it's only humble until you need it. One thing that's been nearly 100%-consistent with me since I was a kid is that I always have a bandana in my pocket. The three biggest words in life are: "You never know." You never know when a bandana might come in handy, but it's really nice to have one when you need it. Mostly it just sits, flat, folded and unobtrusive in my pocket, like potential energy compared to kinectic. You whip that baby out and unfold it and it has power, man. I'm telling you. As a bonus, if you want to make a good impression or if you're in a hurry, with a tad of practice you can pull it out, grab the very corner and crack it like a whip, all in one motion, and it unfolds in all its glory in half a second. It's kinda badass really. [ ]The bandana has many uses. I couldn't count all the ways but I've used a bandana as a sweatband, doorag, bandage, temporary rucksack, window de-fogger, cat shit cleaner-upper (I generally replace it after that particular use), tourniquete, nose-blower, spill-mopper, trail marker, necktie, neck cooler, water filter, attention-getter, sponge, rope, mask...the list goes on and on. Heck, it's a 100%-cotton multi-tool. And yes...it's even gotten me laid, at least twice that I can recall. I got to be friends with a kid who was my neighbor for a while. We bonded over music, and we still talk and hang when he's over this way. He saw my bandana one day and asked about it. I'd just bought a dozen for cheap on Amazon and run them through the wash a couple of times to get out the starch and whatever other Chinese bullshit chemicals and shit might be in the fabric, and I gave him a few. He seemed glad to get them and it was cool for me to pass along a tradition. He's a great kid. I say kid...he's 22. When you call an adult a kid I guess it means you're old. [ ]I laid the rap on him about how you might never need it 364 days out of the year but that one day that you do you'll be glad you have it. I'm sort of a "father figure" to him, as it were. I told him all the things he could use a bandana for, and I ended up with "...and it's even gotten me laid." "Seriously man?" "Yep." Of course he had to hear about that. It's no biggie really...people get laid for lighting someone's cigarette or just saying hello, but being able to rescue a damsel in distress was one of the bandana's greatest uses. Speaking of lighting a cig, I don't know how it is these days because I don't get around much any more, but back in the day, "Got a light?" often translated as "Wanna screw?" Anyway at least twice, once at a bar and once at a party, having a bandana ended up getting me laid. [ ]Say you're at a bar and you're chatting up Betty. Some wasted clown bumps into Betty and she spills her drink down her shirt. What's better...to say "Hang on" and run to the bar and try to get a bar towel, or worse, grab a stack of napkins and leave her standing there wiping herself off, or whip out your bandana in two seconds, right on the spot? That's right...the bandana thing is much better. You become Robogentleman, and try not to look as she thanks you and smiles as she wipes her shirt with your nice warm bandana that's been kept at body-temp. Isn't that great? What happens from that point depends on the winds of fate, or maybe how drunk she is, but in any case it's about the best ice-breaker I know, but it's random...and that's why you carry a bandana even when you don't need it. [ ]I've also found that occasionally if you're wearing your shirt tucked-in, a gal will notice the bandana in your pocket, and sometimes ask about it or maybe even tug on it. Occasionally it means she wants to tug on something else, if you get my drift (gale-force wind-gust actually), and I know you do. It's a great way for someone who may be interested in you but too shy to approach you otherwise, to find an in. It's an all-American thing. It's mom and apple pie. It's familiar and comforting. It's a bandana. I love having one. I love not thinking about it but knowing it's there. Get one and put it in your pocket, and never leave home without it. One day you'll be glad you did.

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Perfect.

The Hypocrisy of "Modern Medicine"

[ ]THIS POST IS NOT GOING AGAINST MEDICAL ADVICE. IT IS NOT INTENDED TO DIAGNOSE, TREAT OR CURE ANYTHING BESIDES LACK OF KNOWLEDGE. HAVE A NICE DAY.{ ]This is a good one, but it's sad too. A couple of weeks ago I met a nice woman in a YouTube chat on a buddy of mine's channel. He and I share the same ideas about things like nutrition, herbs and natural remedies. For starters, if this tells you anything, I'll go on his show sometimes and we'll literally bend over backward and mention a million times that we are NOT doctors, and we are NOT giving medical advice, and so on and so forth, and still nearly every every one of his livestreams gets taken down immediately for violating terms of service, which in this case is "giving medical advice." The last time I was on his show in fact they not only took down the vid but they gave him a second strike, which landed him in "YouTube jail" for three weeks, where he couldn't upload or do livestreams. That's bullshit people. Wake up and smell the censorship. [ ]So this woman and I started chatting and she was wanting to look into some natural things. She's been prescribed a popular anxiety med that starts and ends with the letter "X." She said she didn't really think she needed it to begin with, and she hated the side-effects. She asked if anyone knew of natural things with similar properties, and without really saying anything I told her to send me her e-mail. She told me that at first it knocked her out, but the doc insisted she keep taking it, and then she said that after a few months it seemed to be having the opposite effect than intended.. She's right on the money, and it backs up my observations going back decades, that people who specifically took anxiety meds and/or alcohol to relax actually got way less relaxed as time went on, and yet still again has since been borne out by science (SCIENCE) For more info see; GABA receptors. The brain has a plan to help the body and mind chill on their own, but it's overloaded with stimuli these days, not to mention the cocktail of chemicals in the soil, water and air. One thing's 100% sure, and although doctors used to discuss it back in the 70s but rarely do today, meds can fuck that system right up, and it can take years to recover. I can't say I've never taken meds, and sometimes recreationally, and yes, even the occasional Benzo back in the day, but never anything long-term, ever. My brian granted may be fucked-up as it is, but I wasn't ever going to help the process along by getting hooked on drugs. Anyway the nice lady was having trouble sleeping and her anxiety was getting worse. I mentioned a few things that had helped me relax (knocked me clean on my ass a few times in fact, but I didn't tell her that) and sleep, and about my famous "Chill Tea." [ ]I was out of one ingredient but I sent her a blend with the other three things, plus some Hibiscus flowers and some Clitoria flowers, all to make teas with. I sent her links to everything from neutral sites such as webmd.com, which neither bash nor promote herbs, so she could look into everything for herself. I'd just crammed the stuff into baggies and put them in envelopes with a few extra stamps and luckily they made it. It looked a little lumpy and funky and I wouldn't be surprised if a few people sniffed it along the way. I almost wrote "NOT WEED" on the envelope but I didn't. I got an e-mail from her this morning asking about something. She'd taken a photo of the stuff, in Ziplocs, and showed it to her doctor, who of course told her it was Voodoo and not to even touch it and to toss it immediately when she got home, but she didn't. Bless her heart...she said she hadn't made any tea yet because she was waiting on a tea ball, but I think she was torn by what her doctor said. [ ]Then she said something I think is pretty amazing, and not to be treated lightly, she said she was going to trust ME. I answered her question but I'm going to have to get back to her again. I have to tread lightly and be careful, and I sure as hell ain't gonna go at it with her doctor, should it come to that, but here's the hypocricy- two of the things her doctor told her not to touch, Peppermimt and Hibiscus flowers, are exactly what's in Celestial Seasonings' Red Zinger tea. It's exactly the same, plus Lemongrass, Wild Cherry bark and orange flavor, only I buy it by the pound for fifty times cheaper, plus it's organic. It's a win-win deal. Her doctor asked what Hibiscus was and she told her it was a flower. The doc said to not even think about making tea with it. Would she tell her not to drink Red Zinger tea? I doubt it. It's the exact same thing, except it's grown with less chemicals. There are no drug-interaction warnings on a box of Red Zinger BTW. Not only is it hypocrisy but it's also ignorance. This is basic stuff. It's not rocket science (SCIENCE). [ ]Ever since high school every doctor I've had or met somewhere I've done an informal surver on, to see where they stand (or stomp) on the subject of herbs. You have to mention it very casually because it's a trigger word for most doctors, and if you just go "What about herbs?" tehy'll ofter start to rant and rave, complete with gestures, about how it's Voodoo, and you're wasting your money. One doctor I had I casually asked "Doc, do you know where aspirin came from?" "Bayer?" he replied. "Good answer" I said. "But I mean where the main ingredient (acetylsalicylic acid) originally came from." "No" he said. "It comes from the bark of the White Willow tree." "Really?" "Yep." He had to look it up for himself but I'm really glad he did. I wish everybody would do that. Fucking Google it, Dylan. [ ]The beautiful thing was that he learned something completely new and different, and my dumb-ass taught him. It opened the door to a whole different deal for him, and most-importantly HE DID HIS OWN RESEARCH. It took every bit of half a minute. Sadly it didn't work so well with another doc, a towering hulk of a man who stood about 6-6, 275, with a lab coat and a serious god-complex. He sat back in his chair and folded his arms and said "You're wrong." "With all due respect, doctor, there's a computer right there if you'd care to..." "You're WRONG!" he repeated. "Yes, doctor." I guess you don't fuck with a doctor who with one blow could put you in need of his own services. [ ]I reckon the good doctor thinks that the way modern medicine came about was that they just got ten million lab rats and a million chemicals and just started mixing shit together to see what would do what, but in actuality it wasn't like that at all. The starting point for medicines was PLANTS, pure and simple, and still is to this day. THEY know that but they don't want US to know. They sure as hell don't tell doctors that. Every now and then you'll meet a doctor who's open to natural things, and who hasn't yet pierced their nose with a bone or use chicken feet for tongue-depressors, and it's a breath of fresh air. And they all say the same thing: "Well, they didn't teach us this stuff in med school." "Of course they didn't" I always reply. Believe it or not I've gotten into some lengthy conversations with a couple of doctors who were interested in finding out more about natural remedies and such, and again my dumb-ass gave them some info, and they were appreciative. [ ]I'm not a doctor, but I can say that I've pointed some people toward some things that have truly helped them, and I have testimonials second to none, but I guess you'll have to take my word for it, or not. I was skeptical at first myself, way back junior year in high school. I'd heard a bit about herbs, and silly me, I thought I could find out more from asking doctors, but they all said it was bullshit. Luckily I was skeptical and had to find out for myself. I've told the story before about how I found out that herbs really were legit, but it's hilarious. Long story short-ish, back about 100 years ago in high school, my friend Rusty and I had a huge Friday night planned. I'd done some reasearch and come up with a recipe for "turbo" Sleepytime tea, and Rusty thought it might be fun to try some before we went out. I made us each a strong cup, and it knocked us both out cold. I woke up the next morning around 6am, still sitting up with the TV on, thinking we'd gone out and gotten so hammered I'd blacked-out and couldn't remember how we got home. I ran to look out the window to see if the car was in the driveway, and realized that the damn tea had completely put out lights out. I couldn't believe it but I couldn't deny it. Herbs work. [ ]I sent this person an image of the Red Zinger label showing Hibiscus and Peppermint, and I bet she'll show it to her doctor. Sadly I'd also bet that her doctor will still tell her not to take it. She probably won't want to be wrong. If that happens, it just shows the smokescreen of withheld information. It's indoctrination at its finest, from day 1 of med school. The industry knows this. If you made billions off of selling meds to help people "get well," would you rather people be sick or healthy? Would you rather they knew that perhaps a 75-cent cup of tea could possibly do what a $5 pill could do, and with NO side-effects? Hell, no. But the info is there, and more importantly so is lots of anecdotal evidence. And did I mention scientific studies? Yep, there's real science (SCIENCE) involved. It's just not front-page news. It would be if the industry TRULY cared about helping us get better, rather than the Almighty Dollar. Think about it. Say what you will about its origin but I say there's a reason there are snakes on the Caudecus. [ ]In a perfect world her doctor might reasses her beliefs. It does happen and you have to start somewhere. If I were a doctor it'd piss me off to learn that I'd been blatantly lied to, not to mentioned owned, by an industry whose priority was supposedly the Hippocratic Oath and shit and not about pure money, but I don't know too who get pissed-off enough to give up the BMW and house in the 'burbs. Welcome to the Beast System. Again the bottom line is ALL medicines came from plants, and still do. Ever take a pain pill? The standard version comes from a plant. We all know that. That's just one example. Speaking of pain pills...got any you can spare, lol? [ ]That reminds me of the late, great guitar-slinger Scotty B. For about the last decade of his life he'd go up to every single person he ever met, young or old, black or white, rich or poor, and say "Got any pain pills?" I always wanted to get that printed on a t-shirt for him. It would've saved him some time. He was shot and killed during a dope deal gone bad, and on a Sunday and right across the street from a church in service, or so the story goes. RIP Scott. Shalom. [ ]I can digress with the best of 'em. Pills, schmills. If you're looking to chill out or get a good night's sleep I can suggest a brew. There are plants that have been traditionally used to relieve pain, including the aforementioned White Willow bark and the poppy, among others, but nothing can replecate the effects of the poppy (opiates). Many plants and meds of course have been shown to help with pain and inflammation, but with many types and/or levels of pain, nothing can get rid of it completely. In the case of opiates most people know that whatever residual pain is left is somewhat-mitigated by the "Don't give a shit" factor and feeling of intense euphoria in some people. The dangers are also obvious and have been gone over many times. There are definitely plants that will give you feelings of well-being and even mild euphoria (and I'm not talking about pot, but there's that), but nothing I know of can replicate all the effects of the poppy. Having said that, some of these things can put you out sure as shit, and for my money better than a traditional sleeping pill. In fact I just gave away the last of two of my chill herbs, and I've located a source of organic extracts, at both 20:1 and 200:1 concentrations, and I really want to try those out. I don't have too much trouble sleeping lately, oddly enough, but if I ever do I'm always glad to have these herbs. [ ]Including Rusty and myself, from the very first experiment with the tea up until fairly recently, no less than half a dozen good people have spent an unplanned night on my sofa. I still make the tea with several of the same ingredients I used in that first batch. There are other things that can be used as well. Some ingredients are redundant and interchangable, and for me it's a matter of finding something that covers all the bases but still tastes good. The extracts are way more expensive by weight than the crushed leaves and flowers, but of course way more potent, and not really any more expensive per dose, and a lot easier than making tea. You can buy empty gelcaps and make your own capsules, or spend yet more money and get pre-made ones or liquid extracts. These particular things have a sedating effect more than a psychoactive effect, although a couple will definitely give a feeling of well-being. Extracts are definitely the way to go for maximum potency. [ ]I've told this story before too but I do remember getting a pretty intense buzz from the tea, and it was fun, for a few minutes anyway...I was out like a light half an hour after I drank it. It was Forth of July about five years ago. Our (my ex and my) dogs hate fireworks, so I decided to get a fresh batch of herbs at the Golden Cash Register and make a batch of tea with beef broth to give to the dogs to mellow them out. DON'T WORRY...not all but most herbs quite unlike for cats, are dog-safe, and gentle but effective. Not only have I researched every single thing I've ever given an animal, but I've gotten everything cross-checked with an excellent vet who's one of the rare ones whose up on both traditional and "natural" remedies. I decided to have a cup myself as long as I was making it for the dogs. [ ]It did kick them back a good peg or two but not like it did me. We were watching TV and hanging with the dogs, and next thing I knew I felt really warm, and I started laughing. It was like a warm blankey had settled over me. None of the herbs are known for raising body temp but it really felt like the room had suddenly gotten warmer, in a good way. It was definitely a buzz and it wasn't at all unpleasant. The last thing I remember was feeling really warm and stripping down to my skivvies, and next thing I knew it was straight-up daylight. My ex filled in the details. She said I was laughing my ass off (sadly a rare thing around her) and I sort of oozed off the couch and onto the floor. I almost remember that but not really. She couldn't wake me up to get me to get in bed so she finally gave me a blanket and let me sleep it off. [ ]The thing is, like the very first time I tried it and passed-out sitting up, this time I slept for six hours on carpet, which, like trying to sleep sitting up, I normally just can't do, unless I'd gone out and gotten completely shitfaced and passed out, and I cannot tell a lie...it did happen once or twice. Funny...the tea put my lights out just as hard as a serious liquor buzz, without wishing for pure death the next day from being hungover. You might not know if your car was still in the driveway the next morning after trying your first batch of tea, but at least your head wasn't exploding and you were cursing the daylight and your mama for ever having you and your first sip of alcohol and everything under the Sun. I don't like a soft mattress but I can't sleep on bare carpet usually. Same goes for sitting up. For an herbal tea to do that is impressive. You have to make it really strong and steep it a while if you want it to put you out, but you can take much less for a gentle relaxation maybe. [ ]One interesting thing I really like is Wild Lettuce. It's kin to Romaine, and quite edible but with a stronger flavor. For years they marketed an extract called "Lettuce Opium," and it was advertised in the classifieds in Rolling Stone and other mags. As far as I know they may still make it. Some people loved it and some people poo-poo'd it, especially since it was called "opium," but as it turned out, here came science (SCIENCE) yet again, and showed that the active ingredient is an analgesic and acts on the opiate receptors, so it's legit, although it doesn't produce the high/ I tried it a few times back in the day and I didn't think much of it, although I tried to get off, but it has validity. [ ]Like traditional meds, some herbs work (or don't) differently for different people. I find that I usually have to take a much higher dose that what's suggested, but it's not a problem. You can't OD on herbs. Well, most of them anyway. A select few plants such as Jimsonweed (Locoweed) will have you tripping your balls off in a very, very bad way and you want to avoid those at all cost, but only complete dipshit idiots who don't give a flying fuck how they get high or what might happen, and can't afford real drugs, would go near shit like that. Anyway I weeded out what didn't seem to work very well and kept what did, and I'm learning new things still. I just found out about the Clitoria plant (how great is that) and it's already jumped to the head of the cless...right up there with Turmeric and Ashwagandha. The tea tastes fantastic, really good, and the benefits are amazing. Speaking of benefits, the "side-effects" of almost all herbs are that, if nothing else they're very powerful antioxidants, and those are very good for us. Among other things they boost the immune system, and that's going to come in handy with all this shit going on around us. [ ]For a doctor to tell someone not to drink Red Zinger or Peppermint tea seems pretty extreme. It's Peppermint. We eat it at Christmas, yet if there are "medicinal qualities" associated with it, somehow it becomes evil? It's Pure-D bullshit folks. Well, it's a small and wondrous world. I had to stop mid-paragraph to take a walk, and I ran into a neighbor kid and ended up talking to him for the last two hours. I met him last year and we've chatted here and there but he works nights and sleeps most days so I don't see much of him. He pulled up with a carful of groceries. I said "Hey man...if it were a year ago I'd offer to help with the groceries, but I know nobody wants to get near anyone. I had a feeling he was cool, and sure enough he said "I'm not scared of that bullshit. Grab some groceries if you want." Bekieve it or not I've never enjoyed helping someone carry in groceries in all my life. Just the act of cooperating with another human being who didn't treat me like I was a fucking biohazard was a breath of fresh air. [ ]He just turned 22 but in about two minutes I could tell that he was wise well beyond his years. His name is Kobe, and I don't know "basketball math" but I'm guessing he may be named after Kobe Bryant. I forgot to ask. He has a great-looking dog and last year I'd given him some of my dog treats. he brought them up and said how much his dog loved them, and he brought up the fact that he appreciated that they were organic. He told me that his mom is a doctor. SHe works at a big hospital in Chicago and volunteers at a clinic. The reason he brought her up with the treats and the fact that they're organic. He said she was into herbs, and he mentioned some really specific ones, like the Clitoria vine I just found out about. I was floored. He told me that she was fully aware of the Beast System controlling medicine and our world in general, and he said it by name. Like I said earlier, even doctors who know that aren't willing to give up their practice for it, and she's no different, although she does give of her time at the clinic, and some doctors simply won't do that. [ ]Kobe's dad is a fantastic artist, as is my mom. I showed him mom's Charlie (the dog) painting and he showed me a piece of his dad's art, and it's amazing. I'd have to call it "Folk" or "Outsider" art in that it had a primitive-esque style, but it lacked most of the childlike quality of, say, Howard Finster's work, which I adore. His use of color is amazing, and I could swear I've seen his work before. I can take or leave that stuff but I know what I like. He said he does exhibits in Italy and other parts of Europe every year, so it's possible I've really seen his work. There's a black guy in that style that I really like, and it's possible it's his dad. [ ]But it was his mom who freaked me out. I told him I was just in the middle of a blog post about how most doctors don't know the first thing about herbs or the fact that all medicines originally came from plants and still do, and how doctors mostly have no idea, and tend to vehemently disapprove of herbs. I said that the ones that do know are reluctant to speak about it these days. He said that for almost all her career his mom had casually mentioned herbs to some of her patients. Herbs generally aren't prescribed in this country but she still told people about some things. He said that recently they told her that from now on she was prohibited from even bringing up the topic of herbs to any of her patients, and if she did so she'd lose her license. That certainly drives home what I was just saying a few hours ago. I've studied this stuff for years, but I'm not a doctor. Kobe's mom on the other hand is, and she and I are of the same mind on that topic. [ ]It made my day to hear about his mom, and I know it was good for him too to be able to talk about shit like other dimensions, frequencies and auras and all of that good stuff without automatically being told you're crazy. He looked at me and said "There's something you should know about me...I'm a "Conspiracy Theorist." "I'll go you one better, bro" I said. "I'm a 'Truther!'" We both cracked-up and extended our hands at the same time. Shaking hands with another man these days was another rare treat. We sat on the steps, less than six feet apart I might add (shhhh...don't tell anyone), and talked about angels and demons and metaphysical shit for the next two hours. I was telling him shit that I rarely discuss even with many close friends, and I know it was the same for him. At his tender age he even knew exactly what a true Narcissist is, because he dated one, just like me. We traded horror stories about our exes...stuff the average person just wouldn't be able to get their head around, but we know. Did we run into each other today just by chance, and for him to tell me about his mother, the doctor and herbalist? Perhaps, but I think perhaps not. He told me some crazy shit and you can believe I told him some too. He talks to his mom every day and he says he'll hook us up on the phone one day and I can't wait. It'll be an honor. I'll have to tell her that a doctor here forbade someone to drink Peppermint tea. She'll get it. { ]And there you have it...at least in my opinion. I was talking about the scant few actual medical-doctors who also understand herbs, and lo and behold I heard about one before I finished the post. What'r the odds? I'm trying to tell you, folks, and I'm saying it purely out of love, and anti-bullshit...it's all bullshit folks. It's bullshit. Just ask Kobe's mom, the good doc. It's a small world...batshit-crazy lately, but still very small. I greatly enjoyed the unexpected conversation and camaraderie. Like me he doesn't give a shit about age, color, creed or any of that. I can't freaking wait to talk to his mom. God is good. I met some of my people today and I'm very grateful. Dude even knows about music and 432hz and the healing power of drums and shit like that. Amazing. Find a good doc who knows the whole story, before they all go under gag orders, which BTW should tell you something. Knowledge is power, but the bullshit is rampant. What I'm sayin' has truth. Use discernment, on whatever I or ANYONE says, professional or Average Joe. Look into it for yourself. Be well, and do have a nice day. You're beautiful, and whether you know it or not, God loves you. He really does.

Quote of the Day

"This is the ultimate adaptor. This is not just touching something- it's Dopamine release, and it represents all the humans you know. This is pertnering with everybody you know. This is the 'Precious.'" - Greg Hartley, ex-military and body-language expert, on how we view our cellphones