These are not my words they are an imposters. Please call XXX-XXX-XXX4 (sorry I had to X out most of the number to protect the innocent) and give any information you might have pertaining to who this bastard might be who has stolen my identity. There is no cash reward but if you are an extremely attractive female I just might find it within myself to take you out to my favorite restaurant and get you drunk. Thank-you for your time.

Someone stole my Sirius Satellite radio out of my car. It really pisses me off that someone would get into my car, rummage through my glove compartment and take my radio. I reported the loss to my insurance company who is trying to wriggle out of paying me. They asked if the radio was permanent. In other words they are going to say that it isn’t permanent and not covered by insurance. The thing is, that part of the radio can be taken out of the car and you can listen to MP3’s on it but you can’t listen to satellite radio on it. It is a car UNIT! It only works through your car radio and is mounted in the car on a base which by the way, the thief or thieves weren’t smart enough to take and therefore can’t use the $500 dollar item they stole.. I just know those slimy insurance people are going to deny my claim and I don’t know if I’m more angry with them or with the person or persons that stole my radio. Either way I’m probably out $500...

When the word hits the page the force should leave waves that resonate through time. It appears though that the value of time has greatly depreciated--sprayed down with too much cheap perfume, dressed up in go go boots and set out on the street corner where the rift-raft rifles through her silk panties.

They will want to fill you with drugs and rearrange your thoughts because you feel too much, because you haven’t bought into their dream. Not joining the cult will have consequences. Your only solace will be in the brightness of the stars and the sound of the wind as you stand in the bathtub holding a space heater over your head.

The search for self is not a pleasant undertaking. One must lift up boulders and send them sailing—watch them smash down on everything delicate that surrounds you. Know that you will be held accountable. A great mind or a not so great mind lost in the limitations of flesh. Age will rob from you everything beautiful and loneliness will fill this void neatly. Ultimately you will have no choice but to be human.

You are a dirty old world. The perverted neighbor of the universe with the moldy loins of a Billy Goat. Something must be done…
I spoke to the head physician, who spoke to man in the moon, who spoke to Andromeda, Orion, and Pegasus. It appears your test results are back and I’m afraid it doesn’t look good. In fact it looks infected, spoiled, rotten…I’m afraid we’re going to have to operate. Large portions of you will be cut away and disposed of in the basement incinerator by that hoofed janitor we all fear so dearly. You will never be the same again…

She obsesses compulsively about her obsessive compulsions. Does this negate the obsessive compulsions? Like a giant snake that eats its own tale? Can she get her head around it? Inside it? Fighting the very thing that is fighting her. I wish her luck and will send her chocolates or perhaps mice to feed that giant snake…

I watched a show on the History Channel about what will happen to the earth when man dies out. In a way it was disturbing, seeing all the great buildings fall and all the roads grow over with grass and trees but in another way it was quite peaceful. I imagined myself walking through the ruins of our great cities, the skies cloudless and blue, the nights deep and dark and unbent by artificial light. I could imagine the silence would be beautiful; no more Harley Davidson engines echoing off the city buildings, no more jets screaming throught the sky overhead, no more tractor trailer brakes hissing on the highways. I thought I’d like to be the last man to survive and watch the man made world crumble around me. What a beautiful world it would be...

I Know Smoking is Bad for Me but...

I know smoking is bad for me but I do it anyway. No, I don’t smoke cigarettes and I don’t inhale. I smoke cigars.

In the evenings, after I’m done training people at the gym and I’ve had my dinner I head upstairs with a book and a cigar. I sit in my canvas recliner next to the ping-pong table and turn on my reading light. A good cigar will take me about 40 minutes to smoke and in that time I lose myself in my books. It is the most relaxing time of my day and it will be tough for me to give up the cigars again but I will…eventually.

WVU WINS!

Hmm, I guess the Mountaineers had no chance against the all powerful Sooners who many anaylsts said was the best team in the nation at the end of the season. I am so sick of WVU getting no respect. I was watching ESPN this morning and the commentator said Oklahoma "wasn't prepared" for the game. Can't they just say WVU kicked the crap out of them? That it wouldn't have mattered how well they "prepared" for the game that WVU was just better?

A word from Burma Ludlow

Some goddamn Nancy tried to sell me a bundle of flowers while I was waiting for my contact on the corner of Market and Second yesterday afternoon. He was wearing a suit that looked like it was made of burlap and he had a smile on his face that was centered around teeth so white they hurt my eyes to look directly at them.

“Get those goddamn petunias out of my face,” I said.

He stuffed flowers in my face. “There not petunias and you will go to hell for treating me like this. The profits from these flowers all go to God.”

I grabbed the flowers and crushed them in my hand. “I’m already in hell and besides God told me they use Tootsie Pops as currency in heaven. Now scram before I replant those flowers somewhere on your body.”

He stepped in my face and I dropped him cold. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not religiously intolerant. I just don’t give a good goddamn about your god so don’t try to force him on me or we’re going to have problems.

--Private Detective Burma Ludlow

The beard is gone

Okay, I got rid of the beard. It made me feel too crusty. It is nice to know that in over a little weeks time I can get a nice face full of hair. At least I have that going for me.

I'm growing a beard

I’m growing a beard. I haven’t shaved in over a week. If you saw me on the street you might have to do a double take to recognize me. Soon, the me as you know as me will be obscured behind my beard and I will sink into anonymity. I will watch you much as a peeping tom does from behind a row of American Arborvitae and you’ll never know I was there.

Get out of my world

It’s good to distract with the little things, with the big things, with anything so you don’t notice the bad things. You see the bullshit is getting to me again—the liars, the cheats, the scum. I’m thinking of starting my own world but first I need a good planet. I can’t pay cash but I will mortgage it against my house. I will search the classifieds today and tomorrow and the next day until I find a nice used one at a good price and when I do I will set about fixing it up. I will tear down the old infrastructure, murderer the greedy, castrate the heartless and scrub the skies of pollution. I will build the city with books and ban televisions from airing “Reality TV” and movies based on cartoons from the 70’s. I will ask people to think, to be kind, to not swerve in front of me in their hydrogen powered car because if you do I will send you right back to this hell hole.

For quite some time I lacked the motivation to continue my blog. I feel like I need the outlet again though and am going to try to post regularly. There was just so much other crap going on but then that’s just what it is CRAP and I let it take up my time. So, starting now I’m taking back my blog and my life and I'm kicking my addictions to toaster pastries, Internet porn, opiates, reality TV, chewing tobacco and fried chicken. Thank-you, you’ve been most kind listening to my rant. Take care and remember you’re never alone if you have a split personality…

Burma 13 Weeks

Burma 13 weeks

This is my new puppy Burma. Named after my Burma Ludlow character.

All is well. Of course the little psycho denied making threats when the police called. He'd better stay away from this office...

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