Bonez

Wells Fargo Bank Robbery Roll a D6 Danielsan

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Fri, 24 Jun 2011 10:56:00 +0000

Bach on Glass Harp

noreply@blogger.com (Markoni) — Sat, 18 Jun 2011 12:13:00 +0000

Toccata and fugue in D minor by J. S. Bach played on glass harp (musical glasses) by Robert Tiso. Very nice.

Guns N' Cellos

noreply@blogger.com (Markoni) — Sun, 12 Jun 2011 00:27:00 +0000

Croatian duo Luka Šulić and Stjepan Hauser, AKA 2Cellos, absolutely rock out on their arrangement of Welcome to the Jungle by Guns N' Roses. Holy crap!

Those carbon fiber cellos are pretty cool too.

Lean Meat with a Crusty Top

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Fri, 27 May 2011 12:30:00 +0000

Just like Mrs. Mac's meat pies my life is pretty much some awesomely delicious lean meat with a crusty top called the school of hard knocks wisdom tempering it. Funny what truth we can glean and apply to our lives even from a silly tantalizing (or is that titillating?) commercial. This is an example of what I mean when I tell people that they can hear God's voice everywhere and at any time through any medium and often in the most unlikely of places and situations. Those who have ears to hear ...

Bonez ... also known as ME, MYSELF and I, will be riding up to the Lexington, Kentucky area today to meet up with my best friend for Life, Captain Willie Lee (HawkEye) Payne. He and I have been best friends since we were about fourteen and have saved each other's lives numerous times so we are continually indebted to put up with each other's crap till we croak. I would include a picture of him and his ride (2010 H-D Road King über customized and schmexxy as all git out) but that would take away from a fairly good shot of me and my ride (2010 H-D Dyna Super Glide Custom even schmexxier than Captain Willie Lee's two-wheeled babe). Since this IS my home turf I will play the my home turf trump card this time and save pictures of him and his sweet ride for another post or three. Okay, who am I kidding here? I can't resist posting another pic of my beauty (still as yet unnamed) and it so happens Willie Lee's heartthrob is in it so it serves a dual purpose. Note, this shot was before I installed my wickedly cool skeleton hands holding coffins mirrors and she's pretty dirty after a thousand miles or so of hard riding so look beyond that and see her inner beauty and power. Okay, you see his bike but I refuse to cave in and post a picture of him until he reads this post and gives me sh*t over it.

Wow, what is all the above about? Well, primarily, I am supposed to be packing the bike right this minute and getting my tired butt on it and heading up North. I am in for a long weekend of riding twisties in the Blue Ridge Smokies, eating lots of grilled animal carcass, shooting handguns and AR-15's and anything else we can get some ammo for, riding some more twisties, and enjoying the natural magnificence of Creation we are so blessed to inhabit at a level most people never experience. Definitely one of those "if you don't ride you don't know" moments that I will hold dear in my memories until the aforementioned day I croak. So ... am I packing and loading and riding at this very moment? No, Ma'am (or Sir as the case may be). I am sitting here naked tapping out another Bonez blog post to let some of my pent up emotions become exposed (get it? I'm naked and "exposing" my emotions .... hahaha, I crack myself up sometimes) to a faceless mass of strange electronic visitors. How's that for a blogging addiction?

Okay, time for me to stop self-indulging and unstick my bare buns from this leather and get geared up and out of here on my weekend adventure. I will leave you, Dear Reader, with a reminder of what this weekend is really all about least you forget. I can NEVER forget and will always be eternally grateful for those who gave all so that I can sit here naked and type rambling nonsense in FREEDOM. Ride Safe and Ride Free.

Dream Rangers and False Prophets

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Tue, 24 May 2011 23:55:00 +0000

Not even a pending apocalypse could keep these Taiwanese gentlemen bikers from living the wonderful experience of two wheel therapy. Reliving memories of their youth and bravely denying "circumstances" and fear from squelching their desires to LIVE. Life is something we are supposed to live ... not just let happen to us. Thank goodness none of them were influenced by the likes of our False Prophet, Reverend Harold Camping.

Harold Camping, the radio evangelical preacher now says he "miscalculated" (again) in his predictions that May 21, 2011 would be Judgement Day and the Rapture. Um, actually those are supposed to be two separate major events separated by a specific period of time ... according to the Bible. But, I guess in Reverend Camping's world its all just a game of numbers he randomly picks and chooses from "God's Word" since he's obviously the only one smart (or is that "devious") enough to interpret them and prepare the Flock for their imminent departure from the fleshly realm.

Camping is not retreating from his end of world on October 21st predictions, though. He says that God has spared humanity five months of hell on Earth but the apocalypse would still happen right on schedule ... Camping's schedule apparently ... on the 21st of October come rain or shine or hell or high water. Hold it. Hell and High Water may be part of the end, my bad.

Some of Camping's followers gave away everything they owned since they would not be needing them once they rose naked into the air with the resurrected corpses to meet Jesus in the clouds. They were so convinced that Camping was right (this time) and they would be spared the horrors of an angry God hell bent on killing billions of people and finally destroying the entire planet in five months.

Mr. Camping was hiding out in a motel room with his wife ... probably fearful of being tarred and feathered and run out of town on a rail or stoned to death like the Bible says should happen to all false prophets who miss predictions.

The penalty for false prophecy, is capital punishment (per Deuteronomy 18:20).
"But a prophet who presumes to speak in my name anything I have not commanded him to say, or a prophet who speaks in the name of other gods, must be put to death."
In summary, the biblical standards for a false prophet, it is forbidden to speak in the name of a god other than YHWH.[citation needed] Likewise, if a prophet makes a prophecy in the name of YHWH that does not come to pass, that is another sign that he is not commissioned of YHWH and that the people need not fear the false prophet.(Deuteronomy 18:22)

Oh, that's right, that is part of the Bible Camping selectively disregards ... not a lot of profit in that one.

When Camping was asked if he had any advice to offer those who had given away everything in the belief the world was about to end, he almost smugly said, "We just had a great recession. There's lots of people who lost their jobs, lots of people who lost their houses... and somehow they all survived." Wow, how's that for compassion for the thousands you duped and ripped off? Oh, and then he added, "We're not in the business of giving any financial advice, we're in the business of telling people maybe there is someone you can talk to, and that's God." What an absolute asshat! Yeah, they better talk to God because they are not going to get any truth or sense or financial renumeration out of you, Mr. False Prophet Camping!

CDC Approved Zombie Apocalypse Kickin' Up Mud

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Sun, 22 May 2011 04:01:00 +0000

Playboy puts fifty-seven years of hot naked women online at outrageous prices. Playboy will provide every page of every issue since it began in 1953. The catch is that they are offering it only as a subscription service for eight dollars a month, $60 per year and $100 for two years. Really? I mean, I realize there are over 130,000 pages of Playboy goodness there but who would pay that much money? Heck, who knows how many real pages of just pictures of the famous Playboy women there are. I'll bet over 50% of those 130,000 pages don't even have any naked women on them. What a waste of diskspace and bandwidth ... I mean, from the subscribers' perspective, which I am not one. Just sayin'. Okay, so it's optimized for the iPad ... big whoop.

Well, it's official. The Center for Disease Control (CDC) posted the official guidelines for prepare for and surviving the impeding Zombie Apocalypse that Bonez writers have long foretold. I think the CDC should consult E as it appears they have some of their zombie behavior "facts" a little askew. I am still confused on the ones that eat brains and the ones that just eat human flesh. Which ones are the shamblers and which ones are the cognitive ones who can actually talk and run? It seems to me the information is not nearly sufficient and the CDC should invest in hiring some real zombie experts like E to get the facts straight and thereby maybe ... just maybe saving a few more lives. There is still a lot of good advice, though. For instance, under the emergency plans section, number four, 'Plan your evacuation route' says, "When zombies are hungry they won’t stop until they get food (i.e., brains), which means you need to get out of town fast! Plan where you would go and multiple routes you would take ahead of time so that the flesh eaters don’t have a chance!" Wait, aren't zombies always hungry? And exactly WHY are they hungry? They're effin' DEAD, for goodness sake. Why would a dead and putrefying mindless corpse need sustenance at all? Okay, these are deeper questions than I am trained to answer so I hope E will respond and shed some light on this matter.

Further proof the zombie apocalypse is looming in our near future is the fact that companies are building zombie-proof structures to protect the lucky few from the insatiable zombie hordes. Not only are these underground bunkers zombie-proof but they are even luxurious by most survivalist standards. You can get into the cheap ones at about $25,000.00 per person which sounds pretty damn cheap when you consider that alternative of becoming zombie food and/or a zombie yourself. I guess these shelters are the next logical step to the old skool fallout and tornado shelters I grew up with. These concrete and steel reinforced underground mansions may provide the answer to the survival of our species and I am looking for the nearest one to give my twenty-five grand to hold my reservation. Wonder if I can pick my room colors and carpet pattern ...

To celebrate the embarrassing "I told ya' so" moment for a select few zealot evangelical fundamentalist Christian followers of the two time prophetic loser, Harold Camping, I leave this post with a masterful mash-up rendition of Blondie's Debbie Harry and the Doors entitled "Rapture Riders". Apropos, don't ya' think? Not very Christian of them to be so eager to rise up to meet Jesus while thumbing their noses at the remaining six billion plus souls who were to die horribly. People killed by an egotistical, jealous God ... doesn't that amount to infanticide against his own spirit children of Earth? Guess his commandments don't apply to him. Guess you can break the rules if you make them. Still, that does not warrant the Campingites belligerent sanctimonious holier than thou judgmental bullshit behavior against the rest of humanity.

Shame Shame Shame.

ἐδάκρυσεν ὁ Ἰησοῦς

Jesus wept.

RIP: Randy "Macho Man" Savage

noreply@blogger.com (Markoni) — Sat, 21 May 2011 16:07:00 +0000

Famed professional wrestler Randy "Macho Man" Savage died early Friday morning after suffering a heart attack at the wheel of his 2009 Jeep Wrangler in Seminole, Florida. He crossed the median, hit a tree, and was pronounced dead a short time later at Largo Medical Center.

Why am I posting this on Bonez? My friends know I've never been any kind of wrestling fan (well, not after puberty anyway) and I've heard that Slim Jims have enough chemicals in them to keep your pool clean. No, I'm honoring the "Macho Man" because of this:

Randy Savage provided the voice for the character "Rasslor" in the Dexter's Laboratory episode of the same name (season 1, episode 2). You can watch the episode here. My four year old son loves the show and we've caught him posing in the bathroom mirror, flexing his muscles and calling himself "Rasslor". It's just too cute.

Shit, and it was the day before The Rapture too. That's fucked up.

End Of The World More Fun Than Anticipated

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Fri, 20 May 2011 18:22:00 +0000

Scientists, Theologians, Political Pundits, Celebrities (including Saint Britney below) and regular ol' Joes and Janes on the street are predicting that the End of the World (EOTW) will be much more fun than first anticipated.

Saint Britney tells us in her sacred music video that we can get all sweaty at our local Rave with tons of hot twenty-somethings and dance the apocalypse away in the sewers. Imagine how wonderful it will be when we all emerge from the manholes with the beautiful sun shining just as it always has and the EOTW nowhere in sight. Now THAT is a message of hope and peace and not one of death, doom, destruction, and insane angry Gods. Gods who love us so much that they are insanely jealous and will kill every living creature and blow up their universe to show us just how pissed they really are at their loving spirit children. "THERE! Take THAT you naughty little children that I Love so dearly." "Bad Earth, I have to blow you up to show you just how much I really really Love you!"

Of course, Jesus the Christ himself told everyone that this sort of stupid thing would happen and that many would come out of nowhere crying, "The end is near!" and that they possessed some sort of secret knowledge to save us all and some would even claim to be the Messiah him/herself. In fact, some of these false prophets will be so convincing that they could or would deceive even the most sane and staunch true Believer ... like these guys who are obviously totally oblivious to the insanity they are destroying their very lives, businesses and families with. Wonder what they will be doing the morning of May 22nd, 2011 ...

I know, I know, I know ... why would Harold Camping and his horde of mindless zombie followers listen to what Jesus Christ said? They nor the established "church" have ever taken anything he really said to heart or they would not be in between the rock and a hard place they find themselves in on this eve of doomsday.

Wanna know what really pisses me off? What makes me really angry are how many people will be misled or deceived into having a really bad Saturday instead of enjoying it to its fullest potential. How many poor, unable to think for themselves folks will end their own lives or do stupid things like sell all their junk and stand in the middle of the street naked, arms raised to the skies waiting to embrace the returning Jesus in the clouds. Of course, only "born again Christians" will be so lucky to be snatched up out of harm's way of the worldwide earthquake ... yet that Christian God Loves EVERYONE ... wow, talk about a mixed message.

It is my opinion that Harold Camping and his ilk are emotional vampire dicks who feed off of the fear and guilt they generate through deception and terroristic stories of eternal damnation and suffering. They gain their false sense of power from how many people they can dupe into believing them as authorities on what God really wants. Yeah, like God really wants you to give these jerks your money and your very soul. Asshats.

Oh, and to think that it took the "Gay Movement" in America to finally tick God off enough to pull the plug on his/her entire creation. So, Harold Camping is personifying God with his own homophobic tendencies. Guess you can't burn the Gays without a little collateral damage ... like THE ENTIRE HUMAN FRAKKIN RACE! Sheesh.

If there is a Hell then Harold Camping and others like him have their own special reserved torture chambers awaiting them.

Nothing Personal It's Just Business

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Wed, 18 May 2011 18:23:00 +0000

Apparently, Darth Vader's charming personality was not enough to recruit young men to the glamorous life of an Empire stormtrooper. Being quite the business man, though, the Dark Sith Lord hired one of the galaxy's prominent advertising and marketing agencies to come up with a line of recruitment posters that no hot bloodied lad could resist. The results are the ingenious and alluring ads featured at the The Swedish Bed (All about buzz, cooking, and stuff you want to know if you want to survive the zombie apocalypse). While you are over there do not forget to browse some of their other fine informative posts. Tell 'em Bonez sent ya.

Oh, happy happy joy joy we have a new DISCL0SUR3 video release of additional "skinny bob" real alien footage from 1961 when a certain clause of our "treaty" with them was broken. More will be revealed later.

Eating Baby Gaga, Murdered Teachers, Feline Overlords and Monster Bug Invasion

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Sun, 15 May 2011 18:32:00 +0000

I think this man killed his partner. If he didn't someone else did. Period. As an ex-cop and crime scene investigator I find it difficult to believe his bizarre story about how he found his wife face down in the backyard pond with an ugly Scottish artifact pinning her body down. Anyone can look at the crime scene and the alleged cursed artifact and then the "backyard pond" and see this guy effin' killed his wife by holding her face in the water and then placed the yard ornament on her back. The attractive and popular school teacher had moved in with this man only six months before. Read the article and "his story" while you view the available pictures and tell me your opinion. Come on, take a shot at crime scene analysis and investigative conjecture and let me know what you think. Too much of what he says and the fact it appears the local police have accepted his account screams to me this poor woman will never have justice for her murder.

"I have a secret, and the bad guys will do whatever they can to stop me from disclosing what I know"

I love cats. In fact, I "have" three of my own and currently live with another feline companion. Um, perhaps I'll explain that strange sounding comment in another post. Also, I put "have" in quotes because I believe the old saying that dogs have owners and cats have slaves. Cats are way more intelligent than most people know (and that's the way they like it ... makes it easier to manipulate us ignorant humans) and you have to definitely earn their attention and respect. So, you can imagine the smirk and then belly laugh I had when I read that Mr. Whiskers ripped knife wielding Texas man a new one and sent him to the hospital via life flight chopper. Mr. Whiskers ONE and Knife Weilding Texas Redneck a big fat ZERO! There is reason the Sumarians and Egyptians deified cats, Folks. Take notice and respect your true Masters. No, I do not think Mr. Whiskers killed Anne Newton.

I have been craving some good ice cream lately. And the relaunch of the Lady Gaga inspired ice cream Baby Goo Goo (a.k.a. Baby Gaga) made from human breast milk has me considering the potential health benefits of such an interesting treat. I would think that anything made from human breast milk would be much more compatible and beneficial to you than the same item made from bovine breast milk. Do you agree?

Word of warning if you live in South Carolina, Georgia, Mississippi, North Carolina and/or Arkansas. The largest brood of cicadas in recorded history are hatching with as many as a million of the inch long cool looking bugs per acre of land. I like cicadas and have many fond childhood memories of playing with dying ones and their nymph husks left clinging to the trees. What a great opportunity to witness a really unique natural phenomena that won't repeat until 2024. Another eleven states will birth these awesome bugs over the next weeks as ground temps rise to 64 degrees (F). Don't forget, cicadas are edible and were considered a delicacy by the American Indians. I have my own pet dead cicada that rides atop my encased display 1964 Corvette model in my office. He never ceases to attract attention of my guests. He's such a drama queen and attention monger.

Earth Nears the End of Days?

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Sun, 15 May 2011 15:10:00 +0000

Doom Death Destruction and Other Fun Stuff

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Sat, 14 May 2011 01:23:00 +0000

I have sat on my blog butt and contemplated the lint in my virtual bellybutton instead of writing for the last few days and that is more than long enough. It seems like weeks already but it has only been a short time since I posted my critically acclaimed and highly circulated "Don't Throw The Tail Away That's Good Eatin'!". I refuse to bask in the daily flood of fan mail and cannot afford to sit on my laurels. Hmmm, actually sitting on my laurels sounds sort of painful as my laurels are fairly sensitive and quite possibly one of my erogenous zones. Oh, um, yes, as I was saying, I will not continue my self-imposed mini-hiatus from Bonez and vow to break the lag between posts today with this erratic and esoteric item for your blog consumption. Bon Appétit.

R.I.P. Yvette Vickers, former Playboy bunny and SciFi B-Movie Queen.

And to them it was given that they should not kill them, but that they should be tormented five months: and their torment was as the torment of a scorpion, when he striketh a man. Revelation 9:5
The End of the World
October 21, 2011

This has been a free public service announcement and is in no way intended to reflect the opinion or view of the Bonez Crew or the the voice of the God. Now back to our regularly scheduled BONEZ.

I know that Mr. Camping is totally wrong on his hysterical predictions of the end of the world because I am going on a long motorcycle ride with friends in Kentucky the weekend after. It's sort of like knowing its going to rain if you wash your car. Know what I mean? It's quantum mechanics or something or other like where the heck do those missing socks and g-strings go when they disappear out of the dryer? It's frakking bewildering isn't it? I just know that these poor evangelical fundamentalist doomsayers are going to be spending that weekend hiding from the press and recanting their predictions because of some "new" biblical evidence that was found on May 22nd. Sheesh. Hey, this is not the first time these sort of party poopers have done this and worked themselves up in a lather over bizarre biblical interpretation. I say let them interpret to their hearts' desire. That's their right and I will defend it to the death but don't go telling me about how scary and mean and vengeful their loving God is who will only save a few hundred thousand lucky souls while the rest of the 6.5 billion people cook on the slow roasting spit of eternal hell fire and unimaginable torment. Yeah. Wow, now isn't just like a God of Love for you? So damn fickle to say the least. Love ya one minute and burn ya the next. These are the same folks that probably think it was cool that God struck Japan with the earthquakes and tsunamis .... and are excited about all the death and destruction God is going to exact on America (according to them) ... wow, sounds more like they are praising their boogie man, Satan, and not their "amazing loving God of mercy".

Don't Throw The Tail Away That's Good Eatin'!

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Sat, 07 May 2011 17:01:00 +0000

I really like fishing. I have fished most of my life but not nearly as much as I would have liked to. In fact, I've rarely fished the last seventeen years or so after becoming domesticated and all citified. Or as some of my friends like to say, emotionally castrated and metro-sexualized beyond recognition. The lone exception is probably when my son, Tay and I went up to a friend's boat in Kentucky and brought back an ice chest full of catfish fillets we caught on yo-yos ... about fifteen pounds or more worth of mostly blue channel cats and man oh man them was some good eatin' (trying to mimic Heather's accent).

I like all sorts of fishing. Bass fishing. Trotline, jug and yoyo fishing. Surf fishing, river fishing, lake fishing. Add to that crabbing, catching crawdads (mud bugs as some would call them) and you start to get the picture that I do indeed like catching and eating water critters. Don't even get me started on my secret super power of consuming vast quantities of raw fish on sushi to the point that Al Gore has personally begged me to slow down and not drive certain dwindling oceanic species to extinction. I never thought I would see an ex-Almost President (damn Illuminati rigged elections) with tears in his eyes saying, "Leave some for the rest of us, please Tony." What can I say, I'm a sucker when someone cries and I do love my Country so I voluntarily ratcheted down my raw fish consumption to a sub-extinction inducing intake. For now...

I'm kidding, Al! Damn, Dude, stop crying like a little girl!

Speaking of the fairer sex ... women, girls, females, etc. etc. etc. The only thing that would make fishing any better would be to share it with a sexy lady who sincerely enjoys it as much as I do. Yes, you can be a Lady and sexy and fish all at the very same time. I am posting a few examples of that right here in this post for those who have eyes to see.

Hot women have been fishing with their men for thousands of years so why do they seem to be so rare today? I know there are still prominent seats of learning catering to the education of lovely lasses in the fine arts of fishing and care of delicate lingerie in the wilds. Attendance is obviously down, though, as those hollowed halls were once filled to capacity with eager women learning how to not tear their stockings while crawling through the brush or break a nail while taking that big one off the trotline with one hand as they pop the top on an ice cold beer for their man with the other.

Sigh.

Back when men were men and all women were sexy calendar pinup girls pretending to be dainty and helpless as they teased their men 24x7 with hints of seductive pleasures to come all the while diligently, tirelessly and happily cooking, cleaning, fishing, gutting fish, hunting, gutting deer, making soap, beating rugs and doing yard work in the skimpiest of lingerie and tallest of high heels.

Sigh.

Those were the days, indeed, Dear Bonez Reader. But I do not think it is asking too much for some women to seriously consider moving back to the old ways when all women were much more fulfilled and happy with their God-Given roles in Life. Come on Girls, step up to the plate of real womanhood and slip into some comfortable sexy waders, grab your pole and let's get our fishing on!

Miss Heather has a lot of cute Southern and Louisiana things she says but I was stunned to hear that she was such a huge Bonez fan. When she looked right into the camera and said, "All this right here is Bonez ... Bonez", I knew that God had indeed created the perfect woman.

Thank you, Heather. Got any Sisters?

Primitive Erotic Motorcyclists

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Wed, 04 May 2011 02:01:00 +0000

A little wine induced blogging tonight from the ol' Bonez-ster. Not quite drunk blogging and just shy of out of control emo-style blogging of the "woe is me" variety.

(sip)

Merlot from a box. Yes, I am somewhat embarrassed to admit it but such are the depths I have sunk the last hand full of months.

(sip) Foxhorn, the smart choice for premium wine in resealable boxes. (sip)

Some may label this little episode of tipsy blogging as creative "coping" while others, no doubt, will call it "copping" out and less than the level of spiritual enlightenment I once was assumed to have achieved. Funny... (spontaneous giggle out loud to myself)

(sip)

Everyone seems to have their own opinion about what I SHOULD be doing or how I COULD be behaving right now. Oh, yeah, I know you, Dear Bonez Reader know exactly what the frakk I am talking about here. Whenever we go through the trials and tribulations of Life, the proverbial "Everyone" (hey, ain't they the same guys as "They"?!?) voices their personal thoughts of exactly what I/we SHOULD be doing to get my/our life/lives straightened out and back on the track of success. Bah! (refilling my glass)

(sip)

Isn't it sort of befuddling how few of them have any sincere compunction (a pricking [giggle again ... I wrote "prick" and wasn't nasty] of the conscience) about letting me/us know on a regular basis just what I/we SHOULD be saying or doing next or what I/we have done Wrong to this point? Frickin' amazing that we are intelligent enough to even draw a breath and wipe our own @55. Oh, I guess at least half of that is like an autonomic response or some other medical scientific term like that. I'll have to look that up later or you can do it for me when you get the chance.

(sip)

Damn, the cheap boxed Merlot is a dead soldier. Back to some Gold Medal Barefoot Zinfandel from Lodi, Cali to top off the night. (pouring)

(sip)

It's all good (as one of my fave peeps so oft says). I am not drinking to drown any sorrows or to ease any pains. I am drinking 'cause I wanna drink and relax and enjoy the experience without any feeling of condemnation or berating and because I freakin' CAN. So there! Put that in your glass and bottoms up, Pardner.

(sip)

So, what the hell does any of this verbiage and waste of ethereal blogspace have to do with Primitive Erotic Motorcyclists? Nada dang thang. Just so happens that I was perusing some of my blog haunts and found that old magazine cover at blog artist, Richard Evans Lee's Edifying Spectacle and it made me giggle and want to write so there it is. If you poke around his site(s) long enough you can find other fun stuff like <--- this picture of an unexpected meeting of the board that sort of gives you a visual commentary on one phase of transition in my life right now ... I won't elaborate further here, but those who know me will understand immediately. And I'm sure any Stalker(s) will take offense but so the eff what ... go gather your imaginary evidence elsewhere.

(sip)

(sip)

Man, I need me some sweet two-wheel wind therapy ASAP if not sooner.

Okies, one glass of Barefoot Zin gone and so am I. Thank you, Bonezites for reading through to this point and "getting it". Life and enjoying it in the blog world isn't about political debate and argument over if Osama Bin Laden's body should have been dumped at sea or if he was even really killed or not. It's about being real with yourself and your thoughts and feelings. Being REAL in the NOW and boldly and openly sharing that NOW with those who genuinely give a crap about you and your concerns. In the End It Doesn't Even Matter.

FEAR Monkey On My Back

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Tue, 03 May 2011 00:13:00 +0000

Fear is the monkey on my back. At least for this moment. I seem to have invited and allowed this silly beast to perch atop my shoulders the last few weeks or so. No matter how much I try to ignore his pestering antics he keeps clinging to me and chattering his monkey chatter into my mental ear. He thinks he is a really smart monkey, but I am on to him now and he doesn't have long before he's history. See, he can talk ... not just the standard acceptable monkey talk stuff but with real words that we human beings can understand. At least, this sly little monkey wants me to think I understand. But the truth is that if I fully understood then he would no longer have a job and I would be free of his incessant monkey drivel assaulting my brain. I do not have to listen to this taunting monkey and his words of deception. I make the choice at this moment to send him on his way because I no longer find his presence useful to my process of dealing with today's issues.

I like The Passenger because the character identifies his Fear beast and then learns how to control it and turn it to something that can be useful for him. Just like him I am grateful my Fear Monkey brought me to a place of awareness of the potential dangers ahead of me. But, I know I am the one who truly controls his grip on my mind and I will not allow it into my heart. I choose to take his monkey guidance and direct it into positive and useful actions to bring a resolution that is best for me and who I am and in line with my values and goals.

Bye bye, Silly Monkey.

Ah, that feels much better ...

Let Me Think About It

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Sat, 30 Apr 2011 13:25:00 +0000

Let me think about it.

How long should I think about it?

How long could I think about it?

Long enough to get out of my head and into action.

Long enough to let "things" take their natural course.

Long enough.

It has been long enough.

Okay, I know I need to just kick Procrastination in the butt and get on with it.

Let me think about it.

Just a little longer ...

I am almost there.

[Video = Ida Corr vs Fedde Le Grand - Let Me Think About It (VJ Optique Extended Version)]

Back from the Grave

noreply@blogger.com (E) — Thu, 28 Apr 2011 13:25:00 +0000

Who best to handle a piece about pesky zombie infestations with a cast of certified zombie killers? Sorry Tony, but I'm going to have to nominate myself on this one.

For those who are newer to Bonez, I am one of the older contributors round these parts; considering (but still undecided on) a comeback to the literary world. And my credentials?

Participant in two zombie walks
Family photos done as zombies
Preparing for a zombie pub crawl
Two zombie tattoos
Having a zombie wedding later this year

I think it goes without saying that I've got Z-cred.

So why am I jumping in here all uppity and antagonistic? Because I'm furious over this trailer. Furious, I say.

Aside from Tony stating that Michael Rooker's primary credit is "The Walking Dead", when any self respecting horror fan knows that he was Henry, he seems to have missed my primary point of contention with this trailer.

When discussing zombies and zombie lore, one must be cognizant of the ideological rift inherent in the zombieverse as laid out in history. Namely, there are two separate schools of zombie classification: Romeroism and O'Bannonism. For what it's worth, I'm a strict Romeroist.

Romeroism	O'Bannonism
Zombies eat flesh	Zombies eat brains
Nobody knows why there are zombies	Zombies formed by the chemical Trioxin
Zombies have little to no memory	Zombies retain full memory
Unintelligent, act on instinct	Zombies speak, use tools, collaboration
Shambling, slow moving	Fast moving, high motor function
Unable to speak	Let you know what's on their mind (brains)
Can only be killed by immolation or brain destruction	Damn near unstoppable

Strictly speaking, all modern day zombie lore originates with the 1968 classic, "Night of the Living Dead", written by George Romero and John Russo. Due to a clerical oversight, NotLD was released sans copyright, so the creators reaped no financial reward for their creation.

In 1978, Romero released his sequel to NotLD, Dawn of the Dead. That same year Russo released a novel called "Return of the Living Dead". The rights to that novel were purchased by Dan O'Bannon, (Alien, Heavy Metal) and extensively rewritten.

The zombies in O'Bannon's retooled universe took on distinct personas from their Romero counterparts and the two series have ultimately been separated by use of moniker. Romero's movies are all titled "of the Dead", while the other series maintains "of the Living Dead".

So what has me so riled up? What's the point of all this zombology?

Simple. This trailer clearly depicts Romero inspired zombies. It uses the "of the Dead" title. It has George freakin' Romero as the godfather of all zombies.

Yet the song that plays in the background? "Partytime (Zombie Version)" by 45 Grave, best known as the featured tune in "Return of the Living Dead".

Okay, rant over. Continue about your lives.

Oh yeah, on a fun little personal note, this is actually my 100th post here.

Call of the Dead = Apocalyptic Zombie Killing Goodness

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Thu, 28 Apr 2011 04:33:00 +0000

Who best to handle a pesky zombie infestation than a cast of certifiable zombie killers picked directly from a drooling fanboy's fevered geeky wet dreams? Who better can you think of to kick fetid maggot packed zombie boo-tay than the team of Sarah Michelle Gellar (Buffy The Vampire Slayer), Robert Englund (Freddie Kruger of Nightmare on Elm Street fame), Michael Rooker (Merle Dixon on the fantastic AMC series The Walking Dead based on Robert Kirkman's popular comic), and Danny Trejo (Machete). Man, that's even better than the original U.S. Olympic Basketball Dream Team of 1992! All four fictional "heroes" are playable characters in the new Call of Duty: Black Ops storyline that was inspired by B-movie horror master George A. Romero who also shows up as one of the Living Dead. I wonder if we get to behead him, too. Based on the Grindhouse production quality of the trailer I expect this to be full of lame one liners and over the top gore and extreme fun. Can't wait to get my turn at some hack slash and blast a la Machete-style zombie massacring. Sweet!

A Change is Gonna Come I'm Leavin' Town

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Wed, 27 Apr 2011 04:53:00 +0000

Canned Heat A Change is Gonna Come / I'm Leaving This Town

Woodstock 1969

"I said I believe…
yeah folks a change sure is gonna come"

Permanence is an illusion. The only constant is Change. Everything is always changing ... from the aging of our planet and solar system which takes billions of years for noticeable differences to the continuous rapid changes of every cell in our body (we are completely rebuilt at the cellular level every seven years) that happen so fast and minutely that we may not even notice them. Some changes are anticipated or even looked forward to and some are greeted with dread and foreboding. We often make change difficult ... on ourselves ... because nothing can stop change. So when our "reality" is disrupted by a change that appears to have happened out of nowhere we often react negatively or drag our mental feet in hopes of slowing down or even stopping change. But change is inevitable. Change is not good or bad. It just is. Our perception of that change and the label we choose to put on it is what makes it good or bad ... for us as individuals. One can lose their job and feel sadness, fear and treat it as a misfortune. Or the same person can greet the change of job status as a blessing and a gentle hint from the Universe that it is time to move on to the next greatest career life adventure. Thus, changes that are often perceived as "bad" can be embraced as good and capitalized on for our betterment. Sickness and even death are most often perceived as bad or dreaded changes but even they can be accepted and embraced as a integral part of the whole Oneness we all are.

"We'll all have a good peace of mind
Lord, our freedom will surely surely come"

Yes, our freedom and peace of mind surely comes from our acceptance of the Universal Law of Change. Like the Star Trek Borg, Resistance is Futile :) So, why not embrace the change and flow with it to the next natural state of consciousness and be truly Free and at Peace in our heart, mind and soul.

"Well now, I believe in the morning
I believe I'll go on back home"

As spiritual beings having a human experience our overriding desire is to "go on back home" and reunite with the One That Is All. When we transition and awake on that new morning back home we will rest in our Oneness ... at least for a while and bask in the Light of our reunion.

"Well, I'm standin’ down at the crossroads
lord I'm standin’ all by myself"

I am never alone. I am not separate from the ONE we all are fragments of. So I do not have to stand at the crossroads of decision in Life without the knowledge that I am surrounded by Love and Compassion and I do not walk those empty spaces alone. There is always a Brother or Sister ready to walk beside me no matter how treacherous the path may seem. I am not the first to traverse it and I will successfully reach the destination and be prepared to help someone else through it from my own experience.

"Well, when you've got yourself a good friend
You are the luckiest man on earth"

Then we are all lucky men and women for no one is truly without a good friend if they but turn within themselves and see that we are already equipped with the bestest friend possible ... OURSELVES. Until we can FIRST love ourselves we can not give the Love to another to reward their gift of Friendship.

"I say you got yourself a good friend
yeah now do know you're the luckiest man on earth
‘cause you've got love in your heart
Lord that's worth all its weight in gold"

See? I was right on. "you've got love in your heart that's worth all its weight in gold" ... how much does Love weigh? Hold it ... that's how much does a henway ...

[Post Idea and Inspiration Submitted by Lil' Debbie. Thank You, SuGRfoot!]

Chinese Red Army and Cocoa di Vine Beat the Blues

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Tue, 26 Apr 2011 06:45:00 +0000

"An intoxicating blend of chocolate and wine, Cocoa di Vine© is the ultimate indulgence! Rich, velvety-smooth chocolate flavors, combine with undertones of vanilla and caramel." That's the way the makers of this interesting specialty wine describe it. I picked it up on a whim after having also purchased another ChocoVine© from Holland (to be discussed after experienced). I didn't look at the label to see the manufacturer assuming it was also a European vintage so I was a bit "shocked" tonight when I read that it was bottled in Florida. Yes, the wackiest state in the U.S. also produces a "Premium grape wine with Natural Chocolate Flavors and Cream", believe it or not. I compared the Dutch version with the Florida version and appearances are that the Dutch chocolate is darker and richer ... at least from the outside. We will determine the best of the two at a later taste testing. First, I must complete the screening of the hundred some odd female applicants volunteering their navels for me to sip the ChocoVine© from. An arduous task, I readily admit, but one I am well versed in from years of navel exploration and belly button lint classification and sorting. All in the interest of scientific research, My Dear Watson. That and the search for the best tasting chocolate wine combination on Earth. Stay tuned, Faithful Bonez Readers.

I found this new mobility scooter caravan (read "Trailer" in U.S. English) to be quite interesting. I wish someone would design one to be pulled by a Dyna or Softtail Harley Davidson motorcycle. I think there would definitely be a market for such a product especially with the additional features of satellite HDTV dish, central heating and air conditioning, full kitchen facilities and a few more necessities for roughing it on the road in our two-wheeled adventures. Of course, trailers for motorcycles is far from a new idea. In fact, this scooter caravan may have originated with a 1930's Popular Science article on motorcycle camper trailers. Meant to give the motorcyclist family (read "The Dude and his Old Lady") all the luxury and comforts of their four wheeling autoist (read "Cagers") friends this German design probably never saw production. Combine the 1930's dream design with modern technology and finesse and the ideal motorcycle camper trailer could be born.

A quarter to three in the morning and 1/2 a bottle of Cocoa di Vine and this blog post done. Can a few hours of sleep be far behind?

Sometimes I cannot sleep because I know what is waiting for me when I wake up...

Nuki Nuki Nuki How I Love My Nuki

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Mon, 25 Apr 2011 21:03:00 +0000

Okay, I will not even pretend that I did not choose this post title because of anything other than the nightmarish Gummy Bear character singing, "Nuki Nuki Nuki", over and over and and over again. Yes, it plays in my sick mind like "Nookie,Nookie, Nookie" and then I start to giggle like an embarrassed blushing

schoolgirl trying to hide her excitement of her first crush. Heck, I didn't even know that the Gummy Bears sang let alone that they were baby something or others. Hold on! Have I crossed the line of questionable taste and am letting rug rat Gummy Bears singing an inane song about their binky fuel my sexual fantasies with visions of Nookie, Nookie, Nookie? I guess that means I may actually be even more immature than most give me discredit for. Well, I have never let adolescent thought patterns dissuade me from posting items of questionable taste or of a socially unacceptable nature before so why should I start to let it influence or worry me now?

It's Life's Illusions I Recall

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Fri, 22 Apr 2011 10:03:00 +0000

Then: Friday, April 3, 33 AD. The day the merciless yet failing Roman Empire crucified another subversive Jew. This particular young Jewish Rabbi from Nazareth (loved those guys) was tortured, mocked, humiliated, tormented some more and then horrifically murdered publicly in sight of his family, friends and countrymen. All at the demand of his own religious leaders as just punishment for his blasphemy against the One True God of the Chosen People.

Now: Friday, April 22, 2011 AD. Good Friday. 2,000 years later and humanity is still calling for the murder of innocents at the hands of their governments in the name of their gods. The gods of Religion, Finance, Pride, Power, and Ignorance.

"I've looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all"

So, I sit at four in the morning on today's "Good Friday" after a sleepless night that I cannot blame on nothing but an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, though I did ingest some prior to my feeble attempt at slumber last eve. I did catch a cat nap of dream reverie in which I fancied myself riding my trusty steel horse to see a Naughty Nurse (aren't dreams such entertaining fun?) but was shaken awake by the bright flash of lightning and explosion of thunder outside my window. So much for sweet dreams of Naughty Nurses and motorcycle madness tonight. So, I thought I would get up and plop a few lines of nonsensical text on BONEZ and exorcise whatever demon it was that was aching to get out at this moment.

Hey, I wonder what dreaming about riding my motorcycle means. I sure do it often enough so it must be significant ... at least to my Dream Me it must. Let's Google that together, shall we, and see what the intarwebz group mind offers ... ah, here it is:

Dream Moods Dictionary
Motorcycle
To see or ride a motorcycle in your dream, symbolizes your desire for freedom and need for adventure. You may be trying to escape from some situation or some other responsibility in your waking life. Alternatively, a motorcycle is symbolic of raw sexuality.

Now, isn't that interesting? I can tell you, Dear Bonez Reader, that that definition is spot on for me at so many levels I am embarrassed to reveal just how easy I am to decipher. I do indeed desire FREEDOM and escape from a certain intentionally unnamed situation. Unnamed because I have absolutely no desire to be dooced by my openness here with you. Further evidence that I do not live in a truly Free County after all. Don't worry ... when it is safe to do so I will let you know the whole bloody truth which most likely will also explain my random insanity the last few years. Okay, I am trying to tip-toe on the edge of doocedom so I will move on with my dream self analysis.

"Alternatively, a motorcycle is symbolic of raw sexuality." If I weren't so dead tired I would be expending a lot of energy right now rolling on the floor laughing my saggy ass off. Just the term "raw sexuality" makes me giggle like a high school adolescent. I have about as much raw sexuality in my body as ... well, I can't even come up with a silly enough comical comparison right now. Just take my word for it, the motorcycles in my dreams do not represent the thought that I myself exude raw sexuality. Now, maybe they do represent my suppressed desires to BE chock-full of raw sexuality ... that thought may bear some contemplation ... later.

"Dreams and schemes and circus crowds
I've looked at life that way

But now old friends are acting strange
They shake their heads, they say I've changed
Well something's lost, but something's gained
In living every day

I've looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all"

While My Soul Gently Weeps

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Wed, 20 Apr 2011 17:14:00 +0000

Jake Shimabukuro's hauntingly beautiful ukulele rendition of George Harrison's "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" speaks to my soul. It is one of those pieces of music that transcends the lyrics and reaches down inside of me and pulls up the desire for introspection and personal evaluation. Am I on track? Have I truly been the best ME I am capable of being?

You say, really, Dude? You mean to tell me that you get all that mushy spiritual soul searching crap just from listening to an old Beatles' melody? Wow, you must really be an emotional basket case and one of them weepy girlie manZ to get all gooey inside over such a trivial thing like a tune.

Hah! If only you knew, dear Reader. I used to "fear" such thoughts or comments from anyone who discovered my susceptibility to drop-of-the-hat weeping ... well, at least tearing up if not outright sobbing my eyes out. All at the slightest emotional trigger pull of a simple song or even a phrase out of the blue. The "trigger" doesn't even have to have any obvious linkage to the thought behind the tears. I can easily experience sort of a flashback to some other place and time in the past and feel all the intensity of the raw emotions just as if it were actually happening in this very moment of present time and space.

Yeah, it can be embarrassing at times or even inconvenient but it is what it is and I have grown to accept that it is what is right for me. Some call it "soft hearted" and some "in touch with your feelings" or others "strength" to be man enough to display tender emotions coming directly from very heart and soul. I am grateful for it, honestly, and consider it something that is a vital part of who I really am today as a person and a spiritual being. Maybe it is genetic because all of my children seem to possess the same tendency.

Take today, for example. I was chatting with a dear friend and we were discussing my previous blog work on Bad Monkey No Banana which is now a memorial to my brother Charles who transitioned after a battle with head and neck cancer. During the conversation I started tearing up and then outright crying and had to get up and close my office door and compose myself. All because of someone commenting on something that transpired six years ago. Not to say that losing a loved one, especially a sibling, is something you ever "get over" but just saying that this sort of thing can be a daily occurrence with me. Especially if I am going through rough times in other areas of my Life as I have been for the last four or five years.

So, when I stumbled across this video of Jake Shimabukuro playing "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" I was already getting misty-eyed in the first few seconds of playing ...

I suddenly flashed to being fifteen years old
sitting crossed-legged on the floor of my bedroom
back against my bed wearing those old big ass goofy headphones
hearing Eric Clapton playing lead guitar and George on acoustic
Beatles' White Album
1970
hot salty tears streaming down my face
in ecstasy as the notes pierced the core of my being
the deep inner me that was afraid to come out into the "real world" of my abused childhood
15 again
feeling the pain and fear
releasing my soul to fly on the very notes themselves
fly away to a place where I was free
of the pain and fear
forever

And then, just like a snap I was back in this moment, forty years later, feeling silly at being such a girly man with very real now tears on my cheeks.

I'm a Freak Bitch, Baby I Don't Wanna be Friends

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Wed, 20 Apr 2011 02:34:00 +0000

I have a confession to make.

I choose right now to boldly step out of the closet and admit my dark secret infatuation for Lady GaGa. There, I did it and I am not ashamed. Yes true BONEZ believers, that strange ... nee, Bizarre sexy nymph over the top songstress has captivated my sweaty music video psycho-sexual fantasies. In doing so, Lady GaGa has accomplished what no other pop diva could have hoped for and dethroned the Material Girl Like a Virgin Madonna who reigned over my deeply buried fetish urges for the last twenty something years. I do not care how un-Biker-like it may be to come clean with this confession. I do so with full understanding that I may well become a marked man for ridicule and derision in the Biker Community at large. DILLIGAF? Of course not. Ride your own ride, Baby, and mine is Lady GaGa ... at least for this post.

I do not know what attracts me so much to her art (yes, I believe it is ART and superb showmanship). Maybe it is the combination of psycho-sexual innuendo, classic glamor infused with fantasy and science fiction anime-like qualities ... every fanboy's fetish wet dream? Her songs get caught up in my head and I find myself mentally singing,

"I want your love
love-love-love
I want your love"

over and over and it actually makes me feel good and light spirited in my stressful corporate shark infested world. And if it makes me feel good then it is good for me and true to my real nature. Thus, I am going with it and openly confessing my devotion to Lady GaGa here in front of the whole multitude of BONEZ fanatics... all three or five of them.

"I want your ugly
I want your disease
I want your everything
As long as it’s free
I want your love
Love-love-love
I want your love"

Hell, I do not even know what most of the words really means, but it is so much fun in my brain and it makes my heart leap. The wicked vision she creates through her videos makes it all such a wonderful escapist excursion into her questionable manipulated reality and I do not care that others know I Live there for brief moments. It helps me cope with the steaming pile of feces that my own reality sometimes becomes and gives me renewed hope and strength that I will turn that pile of crap into a better tomorrow ... tomorrow. Isn't that what ART does? Inspires us to better tomorrows?

Just to show that I am not totally GaGa over the Lady I give you Caught in a bad BROmance created by some sick brethren that will have you singing

"Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah!
Rom-mah-rom-mum-mah!
GaGa-oo-la-la!
Want your bad " BROmance.

Ra Ra Ooo Rah Rah a Bad BROmance Part Deux with an even sicker version of just plain out right Wrongness. I Don't Wanna be Friends!

Cake or Death, You Nazi Shithead

noreply@blogger.com (Tony) — Mon, 18 Apr 2011 14:41:00 +0000

Eddie Izzard is an English stand up comedian that delivers some of the funniest monologues that just crack me up. He's greatly influenced by Monty Python and one ups them in many ways. He's the funniest drag queen I've ever listened to. Come to think of it, he's the ONLY drag queen I've ever listened to. Actually, he's not a real drag queen but only plays one for money. At least I think so so it won't be too gay for me to admit I like him. Not that I am worried about being construed as gay or anything. Thank you, Linda A. for introducing me to Mr. Izzard's work and trusting that he would not turn me gay.

I have been absent for far too long from my Love, them BONEZ. I kept an eye on her from a distance and observed how Markoni performed occasional blog CPR on her to keep that barely perceptible ember spark of life glowing oh so faintly. I am grateful to him and my other true Friends who let me know they longed for the past glory of what so many called their daily dose of BONEZ to be revived, nay raised from the proverbial ashes, to once again pump its virtual blog fist at the heavens and shout, "WHAT THE Phở?!?". I will not allow the screen scratching Stalker to scare me into pulling my blog covers over my head and hiding my candle under a bushel any longer. That is not who I really am and it is about time I take my stand and get back in the writing and blogging saddle and reclaim my cyberspace niche.

Amen, hallelujah, pass the frakkin' potatoes, Mon Ami!