Big Yellow Eyed Spooky Guys

…with ugly noses

Here are the lyrics from two songs that compliment each other perfectly. I suppose it’s pretty telling of me that the idea for this post came to me while I was showering:)

Big Balls by AC/DC

Well I’m upper upper class high society
God’s gift to ballroom notoriety
And I always fill my ballroom
The event is never small
The social pages say I’ve got
The biggest balls of all

I’ve got big balls
I’ve got big balls
They’re such big balls
And they’re dirty big balls
And he’s got big balls
And she’s got big balls
(But we’ve got the biggest balls of them all)

And my balls are always bouncing
My ballroom always full
And everybody cums and cums again
If your name is on the guest list
No one can take you higher
Everybody says I’ve got
Great balls of fire

I’ve got big balls
Oh I’ve got big balls
And they’re such big balls
Dirty big balls
And he’s got big balls
And she’s got big balls
(But we’ve got the biggest balls of them all)

Some balls are held for charity
And some for fancy dress
But when they’re held for pleasure
They’re the balls that I like best
My balls are always bouncing
To the left and to the right
It’s my belief that my big balls
Should be held every night

We’ve got big balls
We’ve got big balls
We’ve got big balls
Dirty big balls
He’s got big balls
She’s got big balls
(But we’ve got the biggest balls of them all)

Big Ten Inch by Aerosmith

Got me the strangest woman
Believe it, this chicks no cinch
When I wanna get her goin’
Well I whip out my big ten inch

Record of the band that plays the blues
Well the band that plays the blues
She just loved my big ten inch
Record of her favorite blues

Last night I tried to tease her
I gave my love a little pinch
But she said now stop that jivin’
And whip out your big ten-inch

Record of the band that plays the blues
Well the band that plays the blues
She just loved my big ten inch
Record of her favorite blues

I’ll cover her with kisses
And when were in a lovers clinch
She gets all excited
When she puts on my big ten-inch

Record of the band that plays the blues
Well the band that plays the blues
She just loved my big ten inch
Record of her favorite blues

My gal dont go smokin’
And liquor just makes her flinch
Seems she dont go for nothin’
‘cept for my big ten-inch

Record of the band that plays the blues
Band that plays the blues
She just loved my big ten inch
Record of her favorite blues

If You Don’t Grab Life By The Balls, Life Will Grab You By The Throat

…true dat

Well, Grace is at school using the computer lab, the girls are snoozing after a prolonged wrasslin’ match and I’m on my second mug of tea (decaf, after the daily Bigass Mug Of Oolong) and things here at Casa del Basset Hound are perhaps a tad mellower and more lazy than they should be. Soon tho, I shall gird my loins (which, at my age takes about an hour, since loin girding is really a younger person’s game), grab bucket & mop and set forth to do battle with the front bathroom. But not just yet.

Adventure Seed #2: The Unstoppable Army

When daring daylight robberies by seemingly bulletproof men throw Shanghai into a panic, it’s time for Doc Tempest and his team to investigate. But just how do you stop an army of thugs who cannot even be touched? And just who is the beautiful blue skinned woman called Lirra? The trail leads from a hidden island in the Pacific to the ancient deserts of Austraila. Success seems close, until Doc and Sally are captured by a madman whose secret plans lie at the top of the world. Is this the end of Doc and his Sensational Six?

If any of you ever use any of these adventure seeds, let me know.

Damn, it’s taking me a long time to type this entry, no little thanks to having what amounts to a “Songs Make Doc Wanna Dance And/Or Rock Out” mix playing in the background. Here’s an example of just one…

ARTIST: The Marshall Tucker Band
TITLE: Heard It in a Love Song

I ain’t never been with a woman long enough for my boots to get old
But we’ve been together so long now they both need resoled
If I ever settle down, you’d be my kind
And that’s a good time for me to head on down the line

Heard it in a love song
Heard it in a love song
Heard it in a love song
Can’t be wrong

I’m the kind of man who likes to get away
Like to start dreamin’ ’bout tomorrow today
Never said that I loved you, even though it’s so
Where’s that duffel bag of mine, it’s time to go


I’m gonna be leavin’ at the break of dawn
Wish you could come but I don’t need no woman taggin’ along
Gonna sneak out that door, couldn’t stand to see you cry
I’d stay another year if I saw teardrops in your eye


I never had a damn thing, but what I had I had to leave it behind
You’re the hardest thing I ever tried to get off of my mind
Always something greener on the other side of that hill
I was born a wrangler and a rounder and I guess I always will


And now, a bit o’ the email readin’ and then the loin girdin’.
More blogtacular stuff later.

Attack Of The Atomic Baby

…a Roger Corman film

Oh look, Gladys, it’s stuff in full fall plumage!

1: Yesterday was fuckin’ crazy busy at work. I guess this year, all those Black Friday shoppers wanted pizza.

2: Speaking of shopping, and by seasonal association, Xmas, this year will see no presents exchanged by Grace and I. We figure a $1,600 treadmill and a dog were presents enough.

3: Speaking of the dog, Daisy is doing better. Still has a runny nose and stuff, but she is drinking more water and being more active.

4: I pulled a muscle or pinched a nerve or something in my neck about a week ago and it has been acting up a bit. Everything from minor twinges to serious pain & headaches. Seems to be easing up a bit today, but I think I need to go visit my chiropractor.

5: It is sunny and mild today. I just got back from a 1 mile stroll with Daisy. Soon, I’ll be puttering about in the garden.

And now, the lyrics to the greatest song ever written about a U.S. city…

I Left My Heart In San Fransisco

The loveliness of Paris
Seems somehow sadly gay
The glory that was Rome
Is of another day
I’ve been terribly alone and forgotten in Manhattan
And I’m coming home to my city by the bay

I left my heart in San Francisco
High on a hill, it calls to me
To be where little cable cars
Climb halfway to the stars!
The morning fog will chill the air

I don’t care

My love waits there in San Francisco
Above the blue and windy sea

When I come home to you, San Francisco,
Your golden sun will shine for me!

More bloggishness later, alligator!

There Were Tears On Her Cheeks, But A Smile In Her Eyes

…as he rode away on his big iron horse

Well…lessee now…I’m tired from a day of working in the garden…well fed by the cooking skills of My Sweet Angel, Grace…about half drunk (using the Cross Family definition of “about half drunk) on Sierra Nevada Brewing Company Stout…and I think it’s time to post the lyrics of a song about cannabalism.

Timothy by

Trapped in a mine that had caved in
And everyone knows the only ones left
Were Joe and me and Tim
When they broke through to pull us free
The only ones left to tell the tale
Were Joe and me

Timothy, Timothy, where on earth did you go?
Timothy, Timothy, God why don’t I know?

Hungry as hell no food to eat
And Joe said that he would sell his soul
For just a piece of meat
Water enough to drink for two
And Joe said to me, “I’ll have a swig
And then there’s some for you.”

Timothy, Timothy, Joe was looking at you
Timothy, Timothy, God what did we do?

I must have blacked out just around then
‘Cause the very next thing that I could see
Was the light of the day again
My stomach was full as it could be
And nobody ever got around
To finding Timothy

And now some song lyrics about masturbation…

She Bop by Cindy Lauper

We-hell-I see them every night in tight blue jeans–
In the pages of a blue boy magazine
Hey I’ve been thinking of a new sensation
I’m picking up–good vibration–
Oop–she bop–

Do I wanna go out with a lion’s roar
Huh, yea, I wanna go south n get me some more
Hey, they say that a stitch in time saves nine
They say I better stop–or I’ll go blind
Oop–she bop–she bop

She bop–he bop–a–we bop
I bop–you bop–a–they bop
Be bop–be bop–a–lu–she bop,
I hope He will understand
She bop–he bop–a–we bop
I bop–you bop–a–they bop
Be bop–be bop–a–lu–she bop,
Oo–oo–she–do–she bop–she bop

(whistle along here)…

Hey, hey–they say I better get a chaperone
Because I can’t stop messin’ with the danger zone
No, I won’t worry, and I won’t fret–
Ain’t no law against it yet–
Oop–she bop–she bop–

She bop–he bop–we bop…

And finally, todays character…

The Doclopedia

About this character:  This is the kind of characters you get when Your Humble Narrator is hammered:)

#46: Alphonse & Gaston

Main Trait (Alphonse): Huge Size/Endurance

Main Trait (Gaston): Danger Sense/Night Vision

On April 12th, 2009, an experiment at the top secret Area 54 research facility went horrible wrong. It left the minds of Dr. Chandra Bannerjee and Dr. Gregg Emerson trapped in the bodies of Alphonse (an Irish Wolfhound) and Gaston (a Maine Coon cat). Ever worse, it made them both the object of a government Locate and Destroy mission of the highest level.

So far, Alphonse & Gaston have eluded their pursuers, but how much longer that can go on is anybody’s guess. Since their human bodies were destroyed in the accident, they are probably stuck in their new host bodies unless they can figure a way out and into new human bodies. With this in mind, they are working their way across the U.S. so that they can stow away on a ship heading to the island nation of Al Amarja. See, they’ve heard rumors…

Riding A Harley Through The Dreamtime

…alone, cos this bike ain’t got a p pad.

World Bulding Game Update

mnemex snoozed and lost on getting info to me, so the entire Kartanian civilization was destroyed in a single night by the Evil Duck Brotherhood.

So, to my remaining 5 players…

smalley_smoot and doc_mystery still need to get their village population info in. And do put the replies on the same post  as the other Mayors did, gentlemen.

First turn will start with a letter from your King/Queen/Whatever, with your basic orders. You will reply to it and that will be your first turn. Then, after a couple weeks, I’ll do Turn 2. With any luck, things will progress smoothly and fun will be had by all.

On Friday, I will post Arn’s Adventurer Profile, thus allowing the rest of you to see the format I want. I’ll expect your Adventurer Profiles by the following Friday.

I will send pictures (with explanitory text) of your starting Village to you as soon as I get done creating all of them with Campaign Cartographer. After that, I’ll only send you pix every 6 turns or so.

It should be noted that, while your military detachment can and should do some cursory exploration of the area near your village, any in depth exploration will need to be done using the Adventuring Party (henceforth known as the Corps of Discovery) from the Adventuring part of the game. Please do understand that the services of the Corps of Discovery might be a long time coming, what with then out in the Great Unknown most of the time.

As always, if you have any questions, ask away.

And now, since I haven’t posted any song lyrics in awhile, here is a tune by Jethro Tull (from the “Aqualung” album) that very nicely sums up my feelings on the scourge that is organized religion.


When I was young and they packed me off to school
and taught me how not to play the game,
I didn’t mind if they groomed me for success,
or if they said that I was a fool.
So I left there in the morning
with their God tucked underneath my arm —
their half-assed smiles and the book of rules.
So I asked this God a question
and by way of firm reply,
He said — I’m not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.
So to my old headmaster (and to anyone who cares):
before I’m through I’d like to say my prayers —
I don’t believe you:
you had the whole damn thing all wrong —
He’s not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.
Well you can excomunicate me on my way to Sunday school
and have all the bishops harmonize these lines —
how do you dare tell me that I’m my Father’s son
when that was just an accident of Birth.
I’d rather look around me — compose a better song
`cos that’s the honest measure of my worth.
In your pomp and all your glory you’re a poorer man than me,
as you lick the boots of death born out of fear.
I don’t believe you:
you had the whole damn thing all wrong —
He’s not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.

Pleasant Screams

…don’t let the undead bedbugs bite:)

Well, I’m not drunk tonight. I’m up late because I was polishing off another thousand words of the Pro Writing Job. That gives me a total today of about 2,700 words. Would have done more, but got a late start due to hung overedness and then later worked in the garden. Still, I’m just a tiny bit short of being halfway done with the whole shebang. I’m at a point where the words, they flow like water from the fountain of my mind. With any luck and some of my woefully lacking discipline, I’ll finish this thing in a couple of weeks, then go back and polish it up before submitting it to the cold clutching talons of my editor.

And now I’m off to sleep like a baby…a fat old curmudgeonly baby. But I’ll leave you, Dear Reader, with the lyrics to one of my favorite Bob Dylan songs.

Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts
by Bob Dylan

The festival was over, the boys were all plannin’ for a fall,
The cabaret was quiet except for the drillin’ in the wall.
The curfew had been lifted and the gamblin’ wheel shut down,
Anyone with any sense had already left town.
He was standin’ in the doorway lookin’ like the Jack of Hearts.

He moved across the mirrored room, “Set it up for everyone,” he said,
Then everyone commenced to do what they were doin’ before he turned their heads.
Then he walked up to a stranger and he asked him with a grin,
“Could you kindly tell me, friend, what time the show begins?”
Then he moved into the corner, face down like the Jack of Hearts.

Backstage the girls were playin’ five-card stud by the stairs,
Lily had two queens, she was hopin’ for a third to match her pair.
Outside the streets were fillin’ up, the window was open wide,
A gentle breeze was blowin’, you could feel it from inside.
Lily called another bet and drew up the Jack of Hearts.

Big Jim was no one’s fool, he owned the town’s only diamond mine,
He made his usual entrance lookin’ so dandy and so fine.
With his bodyguards and silver cane and every hair in place,
He took whatever he wanted to and he laid it all to waste.
But his bodyguards and silver cane were no match for the Jack of Hearts.

Rosemary combed her hair and took a carriage into town,
She slipped in through the side door lookin’ like a queen without a crown.
She fluttered her false eyelashes and whispered in his ear,
“Sorry, darlin’, that I’m late,” but he didn’t seem to hear.
He was starin’ into space over at the Jack of Hearts.

“I know I’ve seen that face before,” Big Jim was thinkin’ to himself,
“Maybe down in Mexico or a picture up on somebody’s shelf.”
But then the crowd began to stamp their feet and the house lights did dim
And in the darkness of the room there was only Jim and him,
Starin’ at the butterfly who just drew the Jack of Hearts.

Lily was a princess, she was fair-skinned and precious as a child,
She did whatever she had to do, she had that certain flash every time she smiled.
She’d come away from a broken home, had lots of strange affairs
With men in every walk of life which took her everywhere.
But she’d never met anyone quite like the Jack of Hearts.

The hangin’ judge came in unnoticed and was being wined and dined,
The drillin’ in the wall kept up but no one seemed to pay it any mind.
It was known all around that Lily had Jim’s ring
And nothing would ever come between Lily and the king.
No, nothin’ ever would except maybe the Jack of Hearts.

Rosemary started drinkin’ hard and seein’ her reflection in the knife,
She was tired of the attention, tired of playin’ the role of Big Jim’s wife.
She had done a lot of bad things, even once tried suicide,
Was lookin’ to do just one good deed before she died.
She was gazin’ to the future, riding on the Jack of Hearts.

Lily washed her face, took her dress off and buried it away.
“Has your luck run out?” she laughed at him, “Well, I guess you must
have known it would someday.
Be careful not to touch the wall, there’s a brand-new coat of paint,
I’m glad to see you’re still alive, you’re lookin’ like a saint.”
Down the hallway footsteps were comin’ for the Jack of Hearts.

The backstage manager was pacing all around by his chair.
“There’s something funny going on,” he said, “I can just feel it in the air.”
He went to get the hangin’ judge, but the hangin’ judge was drunk,
As the leading actor hurried by in the costume of a monk.
There was no actor anywhere better than the Jack of Hearts.

Lily’s arms were locked around the man that she dearly loved to touch,
She forgot all about the man she couldn’t stand who hounded her so much.
“I’ve missed you so,” she said to him, and he felt she was sincere,
But just beyond the door he felt jealousy and fear.
Just another night in the life of the Jack of Hearts.

No one knew the circumstance but they say that it happened pretty quick,
The door to the dressing room burst open and a cold revolver clicked.
And Big Jim was standin’ there, ya couldn’t say surprised,
Rosemary right beside him, steady in her eyes.
She was with Big Jim but she was leanin’ to the Jack of Hearts.

Two doors down the boys finally made it through the wall
And cleaned out the bank safe, it’s said that they got off with quite a haul.
In the darkness by the riverbed they waited on the ground
For one more member who had business back in town.
But they couldn’t go no further without the Jack of Hearts.

The next day was hangin’ day, the sky was overcast and black,
Big Jim lay covered up, killed by a penknife in the back.
And Rosemary on the gallows, she didn’t even blink,
The hangin’ judge was sober, he hadn’t had a drink.
The only person on the scene missin’ was the Jack of Hearts.

The cabaret was empty now, a sign said, “Closed for repair,”
Lily had already taken all of the dye out of her hair.
She was thinkin’ ’bout her father, who she very rarely saw,
Thinkin’ ’bout Rosemary and thinkin’ about the law.
But, most of all she was thinkin’ ’bout the Jack of Hearts.