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RDCanecutter

Certifiably Surly
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Everything posted by RDCanecutter

  1. At least you got to be Lenny Kravitz. In France I was Colin Powell. I, too, am from the Land of Whites. My theory is that if you don't grow up with 500 years of Detect If Someone Is Black or White, you notice obvious similarities. As in, if you had posed Colin Powell in a group photo with my dad, my son, and me, we'd all probably be related. Random French Dood in Bar saw it.
  2. In the early 80s in White Dwarf magazine, there was an article about putting your D&D campaign on the silver standard-- when figuring the characters' starting money, to substitute silver pieces wherever it said gold, but keep all prices the same. Suddenly you'd get all these lightly-armored semi-medieval types toting spears and clubs, sorta like real peasant levies. I tried it out on a group, and of course they wailed for a bit, but it didn't change much other than they were more careful and maybe used some tactics. After a few games they had Murder-Hoboed their way into decent gear so I guess it didn't really matter.
  3. In Officer Candidate School we had an inspection coming up. Which, being OCS, meant it was going to happen in about 30 seconds and you had 30 dudes all smash simultaneously into the walk-in storage closet where our Class B uniforms were kept, all in a frenzy to polish shoes and brass while basically playing Twister inside the tiny space. If anybody was less than perfect, we'd all be low-crawling in formation before getting another impossible task. We were stressed. So, in my wisdom, I was polishing my collar brass on my collar instead of taking them off to do it. I had an open can of Brasso and a rag. Inevitably, another candidate jostled me, and half the can of toxic chemicals dumped down my chest. No time to worry-- outside at a sprint for formation. One of my own guys gasped as he did a pre-inspection-- where the Brasso had hit my shirt, it left a black oil-slick stain that covered half my chest. And here come the officers. I threw out my mighty pectoral muscles and, to coin a phrase, brassed it out. First officer came by, looked at my polished shoes and shaved chin, stepped down the line. Second one did the same. Third one, classic high-functioning alcoholic Colonel, goggled at my chest and said "What the HELL happened to your shirt?" "SIR I Dumped Brasso On It SIR." "Brasso? Are you an IDIOT, Canecutter?" "SIR Apparently So SIR." He shook his head and walked on by. I got away with it. If I'd had a smudge on my shoe, I'd have been punished, but a chest full of Brasso was so egregious, so humiliating, so damn stupid, it brought me the protection that primitive societies accord to the insane.
  4. It's been a time of productivity, finishing stacks of small paintings for upcoming shows. But this isn't about that. This is about something I like to do that verges on performance art. I chop up cardboard and do small drawings on the fly when I run errands around town. They are not high-profit but they do sell fast. So in the back of my mind I always wanted to see if I could pay for a real trip somewhere just by drawing while in a bus, train, or plane. I don't mind slow travel especially if I'm seeing interesting sights. Goal is to one day pull into Mexico City with a pack full of art created en route. So as a child of the Mercury/Gemini/Apollo era, I figured I'd dick around practicing locally on city buses, at bus stops, in random diners, and document it. Do that a few times, then move into day trips to nearby cities on Greyhound or the mysterious Mexican and Chinese bus systems. Maybe mix in a little Amtrak. Final step would be a real trip somewhere. Write everything off like Al Franken's watch. In previous short experiments, I know it's possible to draw in a loose style while moving. I just never tried to hit a high number before.
  5. For no particular reason, I am thinking about the high desertion rate among the Confederate foot soldiers once reality set in that nobody would help their families except for them.
  6. I am a good loyal American, and would never think or write anything not in sync with the goals of our President.
  7. Maybe this guy made E-5 in 3 years too, then made E-4 again in 5 minutes. Which would make him cooler if he did.
  8. Corporal, minus leadership role. It's a rank you slide into after a year or two if you don't punch the captain. When I was part of the Spec 4 Mafia, I thought of it as "High Private."
  9. If Buddy is like our dogs, he'll never be completely gone.
  10. Will the infinigon Be unbroken By and by Lord By and by.
  11. Tell him you've been drinking and he'd better not piss you off.
  12. This is in the West Virginia part of Alabama. Any Black people wandering through Hanceville would be accorded the awe given by tribal societies to the insane. Yep, that was a traffic-stop village ticket-mill NW of BHam. Hanceville is due north, actually supports a Juco, various businesses, and a physical therapy rehab where I recently visited a family member (since escaped) without knowing what was up. Stopped for fast food, and there was almost a high-pitched hum coming off the workers-- they were friendly, but there was a vibe like they thought I was a spy from Corporate. My roots are Old South Black Belt [with a much more Latin American-style corruption], so whenever I venture into Appalachia I assume that I am being watched and judged by The Hills Have Eyes. Also, Hanceville is a bicycle ride down the road from Cullman, which has a KKK rep. But this at least is happening. Arresting three generations of criminals seems to be the key to making the rest pretend to do right.
  13. My grandmother was CofC, and church secretary. I got parked at a CofC vacation bible school where, among other Damian Demon Child utterances, I declared the lack of musical instruments to be "dumb." Must have run in the blood, because not long afterwards, Gramama ditched the church over how they used back-stabbery on the preacher.
  14. That's what drew my eye. Platinum's price has been relatively steady for several years, bopping between 800-1200, compared to gold and silver. So in other words, slowly getting cheaper. Not like I'm gonna get enough to change the world in any case. I am mostly just bored, plus the first time I remember hearing about platinum coins I was rolling up a D&D character.
  15. Anybody ever play around buying or selling platinum?
  16. Good test results are a wonderful thing. May you get shot by a jealous husband when you're 102.
  17. Biopsy results back in, they are 100% sure (as in completely) that every number they didn't like about my kidney can be blamed on Lenvima, and various other drugs they gave me to manage side effects. The calls were coming from inside the house. So, like, dropping or cutting back on half the concoctions I was innocently scarfing down. In the past two weeks I lost about ten pounds of excess water weight, maybe that much left to go. Doc has a different cancer drug lined up for the future, but for right now, I am just going to pretend I never had anything.
  18. Life is too short. Invite them over for a party. Open the door to show you and your whole family dressed as trans Mexicans.
  19. We're assuming the plane is upside down. It's possible it's the planet that flipped.
  20. Did you drop a tamale bite and spill out a sip of Sonic drink for all your dead homies? That would be legit dating back to Roman Sonic times.
  21. It's 48 degrees outside here. Gonna try to walk to the CVS. Cover me.
  22. The bird is flightless? Well it's not as if it's going anywhere.
  23. If you or I get called back up, a supervised institutional setting like the Army would be the safest place for us.
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