Smoke and Mirrors

In a perfect world . . .

Category: The Usual Suspects


There are days when my eyes open on the world and I see things as they are.
I notice the difference immediately because most days my vision is subconsciously selective;
I see the things the way I want to see them.
Today, I saw sadness.
I know, big surprise, huh?
On my way to lunch I saw a woman sitting in the rain by a water fountain and she was crying as she talked softly on her cell phone. I heard her say, “Please just don’t . . . ”
It seemed like I was the only person in the screaming city of Boston that noticed.
I felt bad as I walked by but there was nothing I could do.
Truth be told I’m no saint or archangel but when I notice a situation like this it tends to rattle me.
As a writer maybe I tend to notice a tad more than the general populace does.

I got to South Station tonight and witnessed a homeless woman counting, folding and re-folding what I assumed were her only earthly possessions.
She placed them in a rucksack that looked like it had been dragged through a muddy puddle.
And again, people walked by her without so much as a passing glance.
She was far from invisible and the look on her face told the world at large
that she was the farthest thing from a happy ending.
It was profoundly sad.
If it were another day, I may have just walked by as well, too caught up in my own life.
I sat down on the train and scratched my head wondering what highway to nada leads someone to a hell like this?

Many years ago I waited on a woman that bought her daily ciggies from me.
She always tried to look her best in terms of her hair and the clothes she wore but she could never quite pull it off.
I always felt there would be no hot fudge sundaes in her near future.
One day she stopped coming in and I would wonder for years what ever became of her.
My heart sank the day I saw her pushing a rusty old shopping cart on the sidewalks of South Main Street in a bad section of downtown Worcester.
Her cart was filled with dirty cans and empty bottles that she would undoubtedly redeem to get cash for God only knows what.
She was a broken woman and a sad commentary on a reality I pray I never have to experience.
So, is it selective vision?
Lord knows we all use it from time to time because it’s easier just to look the other way sometimes.
Maybe that’s why we also have days that we ‘see’ the world as it is.
And perhaps that’s what keeps us all just a bit more humble and human in the end.
Say a prayer the next time you see a fallen angel walking the walk.
It can only help.


Fred Armisen can out-Barack, Barack.
I thought this was actually quite funny considering Obama is a bigger rock star
than the pretentious Bono of U2 will ever be.
Short clip but funny as all hell.
Yes, Obama is the quintessential King of Cool.
The jury is out as to whether that’s actually cool or not . . .
Hit me up a year from today.


Research has led to the discovery of one of the heaviest elements yet known to science.
The new element, Governmentium (Gv), has one neuron, 25 assistant neurons, 88 deputy neurons and 198 assistant deputy neurons, giving it an atomic mass of 312.
These 312 particles are held together by forces called morons, which are surrounded by vast quantities of lepton-like particles called peons.
Since Governmentium has no electrons, it is inert; however, it can be detected because it impedes every reaction with which it comes into contact.
A minute amount of Governmentium can cause a reaction that normally takes less than a second to as long as 4 years to complete.
Governmentium has a normal half-life of 2-6 years; it does not decay, but instead undergoes a reorganization in which a portion of the assistant neurons and deputy neurons exchange places. In fact, Governmentium’s mass will actually increase over time, since each reorganization causes more morons to become neurons, forming isodopes.
This characteristic of moron promotion leads some scientists to believe that Governmentium is formed whenever morons reach a critical concentration. This hypothetical quantity is referred to as critical morass. When catalyzed with money, Governmentium becomes Administratium, which has half as many peons but twice the number of morons.
Science is amazing sometimes,  isn’t it?

Boys will be boys

A little while ago Evyl and me started a “man” blog.
A bit of a risque pot of blogging stew that we’ve had some fun with.
We’ve since added a few more men to make for some added insanity.
First was the addition of Evyl’s brother “Crazyass Dan”,
a full fledged comedian in his own right, reminiscent of his brother.
We’ve stretched the blogging ropes a bit more with a new contributor named B.E. Earl,
another interesting contributor to the mayhem.
He owes his moniker to a great site called ““.
With these additions we’ve also changed the name of the blog to “Mantown“, a name that encompasses
much of the overall atmosphere of the place.
Though posts are anonymous in terms of the writer, it’s always fun to play guess who.
It’s a guy blog that’s written by guys.
What can I say?
But damn, we love to see you ladies too.

Come one, come all to Mantown, the one place where boys will always be boys
You can leave your manners by the front door. :mrgreen:
Now click on that damn chili pepper!!!!!

It’s a Major Award!

Frontier Editor has chosen me for an award, a major award!

1) You have to pick 5 blogs that you consider deserving of this award; creativity, design, interesting material, and also a contributer to the blogger community, no matter of language.

2) Each award has to have the name of the author and also a link to his or her blog to be visited by everyone.

3) Each award-winning, has to show the award and put the name and link to the blog that has given her or him the award itself.

4) Award-winning and the one who has given the prize have to show the link of “Arte y pico” (link doesn’t work!) so everyone will know the origin of this award. (the original site is gone, sorry)

5) To show these rules.

So I am going to pass it on to these five.
Many on my blogroll are deserving and I thought about just doing freshman bloggers but
that just didn’t seem right to me.
I know most of my choices won’t surprise you but they are incredibly deserving.
Thank you so much, FFE for this. I appreciate that someone appreciates me.
Funny that I was going to nominate you.

My list of recipients (in no particular order)

Maureen – someone that exudes the blogging style.
She contributes more to the blogging community than anyone will ever realize.
And she is wonderful. Period.
If you haven’t been, you are missing out on someone special.

Annie – a dear friend that has actually taught me something about blogging, although I started much earlier than she did. Once again, she is a wonderful friend and a writer that needs to be discovered
(and read).

Evyl– my bud and weekly touchstone. I think I know him better than most but will say that he has a heart of gold and visits more people than anyone I know of.
You are awesome, my man and I am so blessed we crossed paths.
I am going to cook that “beer can Chicken” before the end of the summer.

Kyknoord– another creative soul that offers a view of our world that continues to astound me.
I do wish he would visit more but when he does his comments are reminiscent of Evyl.
A talented and kind soul and seriously deserving of more visitors.

Red– She is “simply Red“.
She pulls no punches and is unabashedly honest. And she’s a sweetheart, albeit a somewhat sultry one. 😉
I never know what I’m going to get when I go there but I know it’s going to be totally Red.
And I love that.

Congrats and much love to all.
Pass the award along as you see fit.
But please do pass it along.

every secret has a price

Pathological . . .
Lies will see the light of days
Someone knows the truth


Hobo, Inc.

He gets to South Station early on Saturday and Sunday mornings and takes out his weather worn piece of cardboard that reads:

Homeless and Hungry – Will work for food

Thank You & God Bless

“Matthew 25:40”


And although he really wanted to write “Acts 9:5-6”; the Matthew quote will possibly bring in 15 to 20% more revenue from the schmucks that actually know what it means and that’s damn easy money. Damn easy money.


“Help a vet, buddy?”


He’s been on the streets for so many years now that it surprises him that he’s still doing it. Sometimes he even feels guilty and that oddly surprises him even more. But it doesn’t stop him.
He does look pathetic, though. Or so he hopes . . .


“Any spare change, M’aam?”


He’s wearing the same clothes he wore back in ’96, the year he started this whole sham.
The older the clothes, the better he looks, so he thinks.
What a great investment.


“Can you help a little bit, sir?”

{a chink in the cup}

“God Bless.”

{Italian shoes, custom-tailored suit, laptop, Rolex and he gives me change. Cheap bastard.)

Hundreds of people an hour, thousands a day and year by year the change adds up.
He thinks, damn I’m smart.
The kids are the easiest; a bit of eye contact with them and he can slow down an entire family.
A little wave, a wink and a nod has been known to fetch half a sawbuck.

But, damn, he’s getting tired.

He rolls up one of his tattered sleeves and gazes at his Breitling Chrono-Matic watch and sees it’s 4:01PM.
Damn, time flies.

He takes his tattered piece of cardboard and skulks back down Atlantic Boulevard, swerves right on East Street where his shiny, jet black, 2006 Lexus is silently waiting.

He sheds the threadbare clothes, a molting snake, shoving the rank threads into the trunk.
He pulls out and drives back down Atlantic Avenue as the lazy, golden sun drips down into the seeping blackness of Boston’s financial district.

It’s been a good day, a very good day and the wife is cooking Coq au Vin tonight.
It just can’t get any better than that, can it?

{This post is loosely based on an actual related story.
Is it true? Who knows? The cynical bastard in me believes that anything is possible in this day and age. Skumsucking people like this do exist.
Should I ever see the bastard, I will lovingly kick him in the junk.
Repeatedly, ad nauseum}





A death row inmate in Ohio feels lethal injection is unconstitutional cruel and unusual punishment.
Cry me a river, asshole.
Let me make sure I am crystal fucking clear on this; he raped and stabbed to death a 14 year old girl in cold blood and is complaining about the way he will die.

It’s cruel and unusual punishment?

Really? Come on, you disgusting cretin.

You are so low in the human decency scale that you’d have to climb a ladder to blow a snake, for God’s sake, you assclown.
You have no voice in this, as far as I’m concerned.
Shut the hell up and just die.
It frosts my stones to no end that we actually entertain the thought, all at the risk of political effin’correctness.
Please excuse my really bad French.

My wife served jury duty last week.
The case she was (almost) selected to serve on was fairly clean cut; a defendant was caught red-handed with handguns and drugs and was supposedly associated with a murder.
22 some odd State Troopers were standing nearby to give their testimony against this slimy piece of shit.
Everyone awaiting a jury appointment was asked a series of questions to rule out bias and impartiality.

“Is there anyone here that has already formed an opinion regarding this case?”

My wife {God love her} raises her hand and is called to the judge’s bench.

The conversation went something like this:

“Mrs. Murphy, you’ve already formed an opinion on this case?”

“Yeah. Guilty.”

“Mrs. Murphy? You’re excused.”

There may have been a bit more conversation but that’s all the ammo I needed to write this post.

What am I missing here?
Our judicial system is on way more drugs than Jimi Hendrix was when he was playing Woodstock.
Really, what am I missing here?
As far as Romell Broom goes, screw him.
I say fry his pussy death row ass . . .
And that’s almost too good for the likes of him.
As a taxpayer, I’m so sick and tired of paying for 3 squares a day, a bed with blankets and a roof over the head of slimebags like this guy.
I rant, therefore, I am.
Pissed? Ayup.
Can you tell stories like this bother me a bit?
Please excuse me while I go and vomit.

Like a Glove

I got this from my good friend Annie.
This will meme me out for a while but this one was damn good . . . and fun too.

These are the rules:
1. Go to the Billboard #1 Hits listings (scroll down and you’ll seen them separated by decades on the left in the sidebar)
2. Pick a year you were in high school
3. Get yourself nostalgic over the songs of that year
4. Pick 5 songs and write something about how these songs affected you
5. Pass it on to 5 more people


Fame – David Bowie

What I remember most about this song is its infectious beat.
It had all the elements of a cool funk tune blended seamlessly into a rock anthem. Girls liked to dance to it and us guys used to like to watch.
I also loved the weird vocal stuff Bowie did with his vocals in the studio.
A classic tune for me. I love Bowie.

You’re having my baby – Paul Anka

I’m going to cut to the chase here.
This song buuuhlows and Anka should have had his junk blown off just for recording it. This is a total lameass piece of musical shit.
And that’s giving it something.
This ‘baby’ should have had a clinic visit long before it ever gave birth on the AM airwaves.
This song makes Rosemary’s Baby seem like a Walt Disney character.
Really crass . . . sorry.

The Joker – Steve Miller

“Some people call me the space cowboy yeah
Some call me the gangster of love
Some people call me Maurice
[insert your woo-woo HERE]
Cause’ I speak of the pompetous of love”

When they talk about songwriting it’s all about “the hook”, the line that grabs the listener.
This song had more hooks than my Uncle Bill’s tackle box.
IMHO, when you can combine space cowboy, gangster of love and pompetus ( a word that doesn’t even exist) in one song and make it sound like pure poetry, you’re a frickin’ genius and Steve Miller is damn close.
To this day, Miller remains prolific and ultimately solid as a songwriter.
His melodies will hopefully be around for generations to come.
Aren’t they lucky?
You bet your bippie.

Free Ride – Edgar Winter Group

This song brings me way back.
Remember Tango, Blackberry Brandy and Sloe Gin Fizz?
I used to go to concerts played by popular area bands on Saturday nights at the Middle School in my hometown.
Ah, the memories.
There was usually one stall in the boy’s room coated with Tango splash monkeys by the end of the night.
This song made you feel better even though you were already feeling pretty damn good.
How can you not love that?

You Light Up My Life – Debbie Boone

Another song from the gurgling bowels of some netherworld I’m obviously unaware of.
It even has one of the smarmiest lines of lyrics anyone ever had the sack to write:

“It can’t be wrong, when it feels so right . . .”

It makes me feel better when I make believe the songwriter was talking about sticking his head straight up his ass, an observation this song truly deserves.
If you must know, yes, I’ve played this song for many weddings (and spit anything coming up into an empty Heineken bottle)
(and yes, I’m kidding…I usually vomit after the set, I’m a pro).
The only thing that would have made this song even remotely salvageable is if it were totally re-worked (and I mean totally) by the Talking Heads or Devo.


A few songs that didn’t make the list—

We gotta get you a woman – Todd Rundgren (I love Rundgren)

Tears of a Clown
– Smokey Robinson (how can you not like this tune?)

How can you mend a broken heart?
– Bee Gees (I know. Gay.)

Uncle Albert – McCartney (weird tune. that’s me.)

Frankenstein – Edgar Winter Group (albinos just can’t be this funky, he must be an alien)

There’s my list of 5 (+) tunes.
I could go on for days but . . .
I’m not tagging anyone but I’d love to see Hannah, Evyl, Miriam, Yvonne and Zoe do a post.
How’s about it guys?





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