Merry Christmas.

May all your dreams come true, and your enemies die a slow  and painful death.

My daddy

Such a romantic,  when we visited this 98 year old.. my daddy.

He was staring at a photo of better times.

God love him..

Outlet mall Niagara Falls NY

Outlet mail dead. Two weeks before Xmas.

The USD is killing them. Amazing deals though.

Took this photo today at noon.. last year at this time you couldn't find a parking spot

Groupies at Senica

Poor souls have no idea,  it's broken...

My boy Wyatt

Whats he thinking about?

Meatloaf

Attitude.. I love it.

My dad today..going on 98

Ww2 vet that made it...

A Nectonite

Note:  the big head and no ears.

For Tylenol

South side Johnny's rocken tonight

Boating season almost done

Gorgeous day on the lake today

Losers Birthday bash at Senica

Chairman being sucked into another year .

Chasing ET.

Pics, to hammered to try and figure out how to right them.

No more post till I'm finished the book

Here is a teaser. Currently titled Vegas Fiction , might change it, suggestions welcome.

Snip of Chapter 1. Enjoy

The Flamingo

I awoke in a newly renovated room at the Flamingo to a loud raspy voice that was shouting “Smokey, hey Smokey, Wake up asshole."

I quickly scan the room for an intruder, my hand clenching the hotel phone in case I need a weapon.

“Smokey god damn it, put down the phone, look at me man, I’m alive ….”

That voice is coming from inside my bed, I squeeze the phone tighter. I prop up to get better leverage. Supercharged Alien adrenaline pumping hard. I slowly, carefully with one hand start pulling the sheets off, the other hand clenching the phone straight up and ready to deliver a crushing blow.

Jesus Christ, my penis was speaking to me, the slit was moving with every word. It had tiny teeth, a tong, miniature Ray Ban sunglasses, a tiny fedora, all the while smoking a cigar and blowing smoke rings.

It said. “Smokey, what are we going to do about this. It’s Vegas man, get on the web and get me some pussy. I want four Chic's, 3 skinny ones and one humongous black fat one?”

My 800 IQ tells me, obviously I’m having some kind of depraved hallucination, a seizure or metal breakdown of some kind, the question is why?

I reach for the channel changer and turn on the TV, hoping whatever substance is causing this delusion wears off soon.

“Come on Smokey, talk to me asshole, just a little bit of money for some honey.” It said.

I refuse to look at it, or acknowledge this is actually happening.

“Why don’t you try and strangle me you prick, I will puke straight up onto all four blades of the ceiling fan. Then the centrifugal force will fling your DNA  onto the walls, and if someone gets murdered in this room you got some explaining to do. Spend some of that money on the dresser buddy, get me some Chic's you cheap fucking bastard.” The dick said.

I start watching the movie previews.

“Smokey put the porn channel on, just me and you here, I won’t tell anyone, honest.”

I look down at my dick and say. “Really Man, I'm seven hundred years old. ”

“Oh you’re talking to me now, you pathetic boring piece of shit, our x wife is a billion light years away,the current one, two thousand miles away, what's your problem, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. You're a chicken shit, I can’t believe I’m attached to such a loser.” Then it goes into a hysterical laughing fit just as I start feeling light headed, and everything goes dark.

I force my eyes wide open and all I see is black, then flashbacks of traveling on our spaceship at a million times the speed of light. Stars, galaxies, flying past us like fire flies on a dirt road doing 100 miles an hour.

Fuck, it hits me; I forgot my nicotine patch before bed last night.

A Nectonite

Smoking in a non smoking room. 

In the second pic Can anyone spot a smoking man.

In the 3rd pick. I give you:

Smokey 

Blithe Barrington

Charles Ashman

Jeremiah Jones

For Witnee

Yes I have been  photographed

Ben Mallory discovers Smoking Man

Laughing my ass off.

Look at pops, his eyes

He wants to kill someone just for fun. 

This month 97

Meet Blithe Barrington. A bit from chapter 4

Ashman and I run over to pick up Barrington, God damn it, his nose is broken. Bleeding from both nostrils. We shove a Marlboro into his mouth and hope he comes too. Ashman lights it, but Barrington is not taking drags. I order Ashman to wrap his lips around the cherry and blow, force the nicotine deep into his lungs... As predicted, Ashman gives me that, really man, look on his face. Then does it. It worked. Barrington opens his eyes and says in a southern Mississippi black man's accent.  "What up mother fuckers... "

Wow, his refined British accent gone,  the perfect gentlemen now a Jack Daniels, salt stoned monster of some sorts.

Ashman and I are holding him up,  as we carry him toward the Flamingo, he starts shouting out profanities to random people, they uncomfortably laugh at how far off the reserve he's wondered. They walk around us in big arks, that's Vegas I think.

We finally get to the elevator.  The elevator ding-er dings once for up. The door opens and and a very attractive young  woman decked out in  spectacular nightclub gear gets off.

She has glitter on her face, bright red lipstick, and eye makeup that was applied by a professional. Her mini skirt so high it's probably illegal in most states. Booze breath, with whats left of lines of coke on her nostrils. 

Then Barrington out of nowhere develops raging strength, he shoves me and Ashman a side, sending us flying at least six feet away from him.

"Baby, talk to me. My name is Barrington, I must say you have the most spectacular tits I ever scene,   you want to come to my room?" He said while wobbling and trying to remain standing.

"Get the Fuck out of my way right now creep." She said.

"Come on toot's, I have chocolates, whiskey, and left over Chinese food, did you know I have the biggest cock in this Galaxy." Barrington slurs.

She stops dead in her tracks, she's wearing these deadly pointy red Stilettos, her face expressionless, her eyes as cold as her pointy shoes. Ashman and I read  her mind,  we really should intervene, but hell, anything that wakes up this drunk will be a big help with the next phase of our mission. Even if we wanted to help we are too far away to stop what's coming next, or maybe, we just want it to happen. We see her caulk her leg back, ready to deliver a two hundred yard  field goal, We just shut our eyes. 

All we hear is a thud, then a gut wrenching Howell, then a big thud as Barrington crashes to the ground in the fetal position for the second time today.

"How are those tits now you old fucking creep. Wana see my pussy lover?  her it is " She said.

She's  stands directly over Barringtons head, pulls her G string off to the side. Barrington, widens his eyes and a smiles like a depraved animal.

"Isn't my pussy sweet old man." She said.

Barrington making weird slurp sounds,  eyes opened to the max trying to focus,  he tries to lift his head to get closer, but can't.

She just starts pissing on Barringtons face.  Puts a whole new twist on water boarding I'm thinking. Then starts kicking him.

It's quite arousing watching her in action, not much skirt, her G string clearly visible, perfectly round ass with  those bouncing twins with every kick. It's hypnotic, we couldn't move, for a minute or two. But we better intervene before Barrington comes too and  explodes her head.

Just as we approach she calmly walks away,  snickering and laughing. As we lift him,  she turns and says. "Hey creeps, Smile." as she takes a photo.

Barrington has no idea a 110 pound woman just kicked the crap out of him. Looks good on him, being a tenured  university professor,  people always kiss his ass,  he's  developed a God complex,  thinks he can say and do whatever the hell he wants,  he preaches consequence,  but none for him until now. To bad the teacher will never remember this lesson.

He shoves us away, tries to gain his balance then falls again.

We give him a few minutes, then picked him up again, we get him into the elevator quickly.

We get back to room without anymore elevator stories. I make some coffee. Barrington is curled up on the sofa in the fetal position, still moaning, and says, "I fucked up didn't I guys, was I hit by car?"

"No man, it was Double Decker Duce bus, good thing you had your force field activated, could have been worce.  But we have a big problem on our hands,  I tried to kill Hugo tonight,  the death ray was infective, I tried exploding his head, nothing worked,  ideas anyone,  what plant do you think he's from? "I asked.

A Smoking Man