Shots Fired Yet Again

There were more gunshots tonight...very close...ho-hum, right? I counted 17 shots from a very high-caliber weapon, and a few seconds later there were three more shots, from a different gun. 

 I'm guessing the first gun was an AK-47 or something similar, since there aren't many guns that can fire 17 shots without reloading, plus it was loud as fuck, and the next shots sounded more like a shotgun. 

 It happened a little after midnight. I was about to call it but the sound of gunfire kept me wide-awake, for some reason. It came from the same direction it usually comes from, about two blocks away. 

 There's a stand of trees in between here and there, which provide some cover (damn, it sounds like the jungle, which I guess it is), but distance-wise I'm well within the range of a bullet, stray or otherwise.

 This time I didn't walk out onto the deck to get a better look like I usually do, possibly because of the sheer firepower, but I did open the door and look out through the screen. I was waiting for half a dozen cop cars to show up, but nary a damn one showed. The same thing happened last time...not a single cop showed up, that I could see anyway. 

 Twenty shots from high-caliber weapons fired, and not one cop shows up. I've seen them swarm the place, for fewer and lower-caliber shots than this, but again I guess they're getting jaded. Maybe I'm getting jaded too...I didn't bother to post the last time it happened. How nice.  

 A while later I went outside to see it I could see or hear anything, and besides one flash from a bright flashlight, I saw and heard nothing. A kid who'd been visiting downstairs walked by. I'd never met him but he seemed friendly so I said hello. "What'd you think about those gunshots?" he asked. "That was some serious firepower. There were two guns too" I said. "Yep, I heard. It was close man" he said. "Too close" I said. "Like, less than a football field" he said. "Yep."

 "The first gun fired about 15 shots, and I'm guessing it was an AK-47" he said. "I'd agree, and I counted 17. The other one sounded like a shotgun" I said. "Yeah, I think so too. Dude, that's crazy. Do you think they were just shooting in the air?" he asked. "I hope so" I said. "Either that, or they were sending a message. And two different guns...I don't know. But I do know that not one single cop showed up, at least not that I could see."

 "Yeah man, I couldn't believe it. I thought it'd be crawling with cops" he said. "Yeah, it should be, but the same thing happened last time" I said. "Last time?" he asked. "Yep, this is like the 6th or 7th time it's happened since we moved in" I said. "Wow...and the cops don't show" he said. "Yeah...they're swarming the streets a few blocks from here...looking for drunks, but I guess they can't be bothered by a little automatic-weapons fire...or maybe they're afraid to get involved. Maybe that's what happens when you defund the poleesh" I quipped.

 "Ha-ha" he laughed. "Totally. You know they heard it" he said. "They had too've" I replied. "So I guess no one called 911" he reckoned. "We're all used to it" I deadpanned. "So...17 shots, huh? You counted?" he asked. "Yeah, it's kinda like 'pickup notes' in music...I can remember the notes that happened before I started counting" I said. "You play music?" he asked. "I play drums" I replied. "I play guitar" he said. "Nice!" I said. We shook hands. "I'm Kelly. Nice to meet you." "I'm James. Likewise" he said. 

 We talked about music, gunfire and a few other things. I've chatted with the people he was visiting a few times and they're super-nice and seem really cool, so I figured he was okay too, and we had a nice chat. As we parted I said "God bless, and stay safe!" and I really meant it. "Hey man, thanks, and God bless you too!" That was nice.

 It was definitely great to bond with some kid over a mutual dislike of nearby gunfire, but Boy Howdy, that was big-boy gunfire...and it was close. This is the motherfuckin' 'HOOD, yo. I do so love it here. 

 
 

Drummers Aren't Real Musicians (Proof)

Drummers aren't real musicians, and it was proven over a quarter of a century ago, in an episode of the amazing TV show Northern Exposure. As often happened on the show, the line between "visions," dream-sequences and reality was blurred.

 Shelley was two weeks behind schedule delivering her baby. She was concerned about why the baby was late, and get into a bit of a headtrip about how maybe the baby didn't want to be born, and what her future would be like. 

 On three different trips to the laundromat she "saw" three different versions of her as-yet-unborn daughter, with the same name they were thinking of naming the baby, Miranda, or Randi for short. Shelley saw Randi in three stages of life- first as a little girl playing with Barbies, rhen as a young teen and finally as a young adult, almost her age. 

 The teen Tandi played drums in a band called "Icefog," which is an excellent name anyway, but perfect for a show set in Alaska. Shelley, who was really into music, lit up and said "Cool! So you're musical." She didn't say "You're a musician," so I reckon that proves it beyond a shadow of a doubt. Oh well...back to banging logs with branches. 
 

Can You Cut the Cake? (with Only Three Cuts)

I ran across a little brain-teaser, that probably just shows that I'm a dumbass, because it took me about half a day to figure it out, but after scratching my head 'til my hair fell out, my dumb-ass finally got it. Can you cut a cake into eight equal slices with just three cuts? 

 Yes you can. Or as Obama once said, "Yes we can!" Backward-masking aside, you can cut a cake into eight equal slices with only three cuts. How? You figure it out. You'll probably get it immediately, but I have a learning disability. 

 I'll give you a hint or two, and this will probably give it away. First, the slices would be pretty messy but definitely equal, and if you cut a cake that way in front of anybody, they'd probably think you'd lost your mind. Happy ponderin', and have a nice day. 

 
 

The Deepest Quote Ever

Having played a couple-thousand gigs and done a bit of travelling, I've seen my share of public restrooms, and also my share of graffiti. Most of it is the usual stuff..."Here I sit, broken-hearted, etc.," or "For a good time call Betty - 699-669-6969," or the ever-classic "Jenny 867-5309," but then there's the occasional pearl of wisdom. There's plenty of "Hee-hawers" with Sharpies out there, but there's a few restroom-philosophers too.

 In fact, if I ever write the story of the Bud Greene band, the title will come from one memorable, and perfect quote, which I know was written by someone also travelling around in a band, and sums up life on the road, both brilliantly and humorously.

 But the deepest quote I ever saw would have to be, "Shit ain't shit, it's just shit." I can still remember seeing it and laughing, and having to agree. It's so true. It's deep, man. Think about it. 

 
 

AI Bloopers 5

Continuing in the series of AI's voice-to-text (closed captioning) errors that are amusing, to me anyway, I present "AI Bloopers 5." 

 They say that John Lennon used to write songs by taking down refrigerator magnets with words on them, and rearranging them into nonsense verses (that sometimes somehow made sense on some level). These remind me of that. 

 Somebody named "Toodle Pit?" That's excellent. Someone who understands the oblique? That's a rarity, but go them. The "Tempura Neighbors?" Is that like the old "Fondue Neighbors" of the 70s? "Winding the mutants?" There's fodder for a Sci-Fi story. "Take my bottom out for a day?" Ain't gonna happen. What can you say about "Acidic Wiggles?" "Nameless Saturday?" That's poetry, man. Anyway, here's the latest batch of bloopers. Enjoy.

 Oh, I have to go back to "Toodle Pit." For some reason that gets me. Toodle Pit. I'd name a band that. It's unfathomable, unique, dorky, quirky, quizzical, nonsensical, and just the right amount of "gay," just for good measure. I love coming up with bizarre and dorky band names, and above all, band names you totally can't fuck with. If there was ever a band name you couldn't fuck with, it's "Toodle Pit." You might not grasp it, and you might make fun of it, and rightly so, but you couldn't fuck with it. The full name of the band would be "Toodle Pit and the Tempura Neighbors, Featuring Really Wrong Willa." The first Top-40 hit would be "Nameless Saturday," and the B-side would be "Acidic Wiggles." I'm in.

Know about my acidic wiggles.

There's a missing link between hanging out and the condoms.

That is really wrong Willa.

They're your Tempura neighbors.

They are a nameless Saturday.

I'm not a laptop.

You take my bottom out for a day.

Your age made it grow like this.

You could damage another bounce credibility.

You're a hairless flower.

Your computer's getting off on it.

She's underrated so we're supposed to go to the movies. 

And toodle pit came walking out the door.

It's the oblique I understand.

You're winding the mutants

 

The Daily Bullshit: This is Healthy?

Do you know why they do shit like this? Because they know that most people are so fucking stupid that they'll believe this bullshit. People who are already seriously-overweight can also relax a bit, and keep on eating I guess..."Well, if Cosmo says it's healthy, then I reckon it is!" How is this woman in any way healthy? Huh? This is healthy? This is BULLSHIT. 
 

AI Bloopers 4

Here's a few more of AI's occasionally-funny mistakes in voice-to-text, in this case for closed-captioning. Take a little break, take a load off, maybe lol, and smoke 'em if you got 'em. 

Thank me later pain tobacco.

It was opposite my Olivia where she was breached.

Run Jeff I don't live there anymore

She painted a quick word.

John it may not take black powder.

Drunken passing ports or so the pastor's words.

The door though open won't let the dogs out.

You won't mind talking to my Christmas bag.

Lester's people will beat you up.

Something was your wee Wally.

I've just run across your toenails and your wrinkly wallet.

You're looking for man's whole thing too.

You sign your shellfish.