Today is the second anniversary of Baldie Stories Blog!
So many Baldies!
So many Stories!
So many Laughs!
What a life!
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Friday, October 7, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Hairy-tales
Goldilocks And The Three Hairs
The Tortoise And The Hair
Snow White And The Seven Nose Hairs
Rapunzel (The Bald Version)
What, you got a problem with how this is going? You try!
The Tortoise And The Hair
Snow White And The Seven Nose Hairs
Rapunzel (The Bald Version)
What, you got a problem with how this is going? You try!
Friday, July 15, 2011
Pain killer
A good friend of mine has a small back problem. He tells me he has a prescription for ninety pain killers a month. I say, are you serious? And what pain, you lying sack of sand?!
What I want to know is this: What kind of pain can I claim to get that script for pain killers?
I have lots of pain! Mental anguish mostly, distress, self-loathing on a scale serious enough to instigate malicious, internal physical trauma, nervous tension! Heck, my hair has fallen out! Surely that is either the cause of, or a result from, some kind of serious, debilitating pain. I have a great pain in my rear-end! The stuff was in my genes when I was born, fast acting and latent, time released, from here to there! I wear pain like a hair shirt and tight panties. Where’s my script for pain relief?! Huh?
What I want to know is this: What kind of pain can I claim to get that script for pain killers?
I have lots of pain! Mental anguish mostly, distress, self-loathing on a scale serious enough to instigate malicious, internal physical trauma, nervous tension! Heck, my hair has fallen out! Surely that is either the cause of, or a result from, some kind of serious, debilitating pain. I have a great pain in my rear-end! The stuff was in my genes when I was born, fast acting and latent, time released, from here to there! I wear pain like a hair shirt and tight panties. Where’s my script for pain relief?! Huh?
Sunday, April 10, 2011
How'd It Happen Papa?
“Well, first the man, a very smart man, an engineer - just like you might be if decide against the trapeze – this man, he figured out how to make this, see this here? Spun steel cable! And then he worked real hard with his own son, just like when we work together on our block bridges…”
“Big brok-ridges Papa!”
“Yes, and it took a lot of convincing, a lot of people didn’t believe it, and some people, they weren’t nice, didn’t play nice..”
“No hitt-ink, no bush-ink, no cream-ink, no nice!”
“That’s right! The whole family gave their lives for this thing, they lived it into being - from the sweep of the great span right down to every single nut, bolt and screw! The whole thing; from here clear over the East River! They weren’t out there boozing it up, wasting their youth, tussling about in the dark, bits of’em stuck in zippers, hooked on this, tied on that and sinking on the other thing! Oh no! These were strong willed visionaries with unbreakable determination! Gifted talents, practical! No mushing about with selfish delusions, spiritless indulgences, ghostly hangovers of the Sixties – these people weren’t whiners and nose-pickers! Hey, get that finger out of there!”
“My got boogies on hiss figer, Papa!”
“Ah, I see that and a smile on your face, my Little Bag of Onions!”
“How’d it happen Papa!”
“Well, that’s what I’m telling you, don’t you see? You already asked me when we stepped onto the bridge – and what’s the name of the bridge?”
“Ookland Ridge, Papa!”
“That’s right! Brooklyn Bridge, don’t you forget it! Two years old and walking over the Brooklyn Bridge with your old man, asking how it happened – what a question! Your grandfather, my Papa, he would be proud – an engineer himself, not to proud of his own son, all that fooling around I did, screwing off! Crap and a half! Don’t say it to Mama! He’d bail me out of jail and cluck like an old hen over the striped failure you call Papa! But you; look at’ya! Strong and smart and… wipe that off your finger now – I told you about that…”
“How’d it happen Papa?”
“I said it! Determination! Fortitude – no wasting time making meatballs, and the hair, they had hair up and down’em! Even the dog had a beard, I’ve seen the pictures – not like you’re old man, sorry to say – if you’re lucky you got most of what you need from my old man and Mama’s old man and…”
“Big boogies, more! How’d it happen, Papa?”
“Why what are you yammering about Soup Spoon… your asking about the bridge, right?”
“Boogie-Boogie-Boogie-Boogie!”
“OH dear! Okay! Trapeze it is! I can live with that! You can be anything you want – just like Mama says! I got your back! No hemming and hawing! No half-way and no poking fun – you don’t have to build a bridge to get my love and respect – maybe respect – I’ll have to work on that – I got some time! We can go home, stop at the toy store on the way, buy more blocks, not for nothing! Here we are, on the other side of the bridge! Two years old! I’m proud of you Little Man!”
“Big brok-ridges Papa!”
“Yes, and it took a lot of convincing, a lot of people didn’t believe it, and some people, they weren’t nice, didn’t play nice..”
“No hitt-ink, no bush-ink, no cream-ink, no nice!”
“That’s right! The whole family gave their lives for this thing, they lived it into being - from the sweep of the great span right down to every single nut, bolt and screw! The whole thing; from here clear over the East River! They weren’t out there boozing it up, wasting their youth, tussling about in the dark, bits of’em stuck in zippers, hooked on this, tied on that and sinking on the other thing! Oh no! These were strong willed visionaries with unbreakable determination! Gifted talents, practical! No mushing about with selfish delusions, spiritless indulgences, ghostly hangovers of the Sixties – these people weren’t whiners and nose-pickers! Hey, get that finger out of there!”
“My got boogies on hiss figer, Papa!”
“Ah, I see that and a smile on your face, my Little Bag of Onions!”
“How’d it happen Papa!”
“Well, that’s what I’m telling you, don’t you see? You already asked me when we stepped onto the bridge – and what’s the name of the bridge?”
“Ookland Ridge, Papa!”
“That’s right! Brooklyn Bridge, don’t you forget it! Two years old and walking over the Brooklyn Bridge with your old man, asking how it happened – what a question! Your grandfather, my Papa, he would be proud – an engineer himself, not to proud of his own son, all that fooling around I did, screwing off! Crap and a half! Don’t say it to Mama! He’d bail me out of jail and cluck like an old hen over the striped failure you call Papa! But you; look at’ya! Strong and smart and… wipe that off your finger now – I told you about that…”
“How’d it happen Papa?”
“I said it! Determination! Fortitude – no wasting time making meatballs, and the hair, they had hair up and down’em! Even the dog had a beard, I’ve seen the pictures – not like you’re old man, sorry to say – if you’re lucky you got most of what you need from my old man and Mama’s old man and…”
“Big boogies, more! How’d it happen, Papa?”
“Why what are you yammering about Soup Spoon… your asking about the bridge, right?”
“Boogie-Boogie-Boogie-Boogie!”
“OH dear! Okay! Trapeze it is! I can live with that! You can be anything you want – just like Mama says! I got your back! No hemming and hawing! No half-way and no poking fun – you don’t have to build a bridge to get my love and respect – maybe respect – I’ll have to work on that – I got some time! We can go home, stop at the toy store on the way, buy more blocks, not for nothing! Here we are, on the other side of the bridge! Two years old! I’m proud of you Little Man!”
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
subway
Tell the guy driving this train to ease up on the brakes, lighten up on the gas; I'm losing important parts, historical viscera, memories - the stuff is being jerked and tussled out of me, into the past, into the lap of the young guy beside me, and I'm sure he doesn't need my worries, my past, all that old sorrow; he'll have enough of his own one day.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
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