Author Archive

New Direction

January 3, 2018

Miss Poppy is making some adjustments folks…………


One for the Books: A Bizarre Day

December 8, 2017

It looks as though my wife is able to the twisted in life as well. She beat me to the blog on this one. It’s a twisted life……….

Life in the Oasis

This day is one for the books.

We woke up this morning to the tiny, breathy “woofs” from our terrier. It seemed he was busy barking at something in his dreams.

Later in the morning, we stopped at Sam’s Club® for baking soda and black olives. With so little to buy, we decided to take advantage of the self-checkout. That went smoothly until this screen popped up:

We waited. And waited. A good eight minutes passed, according to my watch. Then I tried to get the attention of four clerks as they passed by the checkout lines. Each kept her eyes forward and, I guess, didn’t see me waiving and beckoning them for help.

“How ‘bout that guy, over there in the white coat?” I asked my beau.

“That’s the butcher.”

“I know. Just kidding.” I started walking to the customer service desk. I tried to stop another clerk…

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Watching the Third Rerun

November 30, 2017

Perhaps it is becoming mundane, but I must start out with a shout out.  Sulaiman Hafeez stopped by The Twisted Life and liked what he saw.  Naturally I visited his blog, Sulaimaniac96.  The little guy is quite the wordsmith.  His images aren’t bad either.  It is definitely worth a visit.  Do it here.

After a short, extremely short, return to Fakebook, I deactivated the account again.  It was the same old song and dance.  There were the same old memes, shared by the same old mindless dolts that can not seem to conjure up an original thought.  There were the same old haters from both sides, spewing the same old party line rhetoric, because they, too, do not seem capable of original thought.  But the most disturbing, and the hardest one to keep my nose out of, was the budding romance between a serial hostage taker and his current unsuspecting victim.

I’m sure you all know the kind.  They are the guys that love to isolate the objects of their desire.  They start new Fakebook accounts, befriend all of their new paramour’s girlfriends, and show themselves in such a manner as to get a lot of “he’s a keeper” accolades from the onlookers.  The object of his desire feels loved with a love that she thought was only available in fairytales and dreams.  She tells her friends, and her friends swoon.  Little do they know that they are aiding and abetting the perpetrator of a fraud.

Once he captures his prey, the lothario will isolate her from the self same friends who helped to cement his relationship to her.  He will banish her children from a former life, to the island of broken toys.  He will move her from her family and friends, and he will only allow her to befriend those that he chooses in her new surroundings.

People like this exist, and I can not stand to watch it unfold yet again, for the third time.

It’s a twisted life……….

I Found The Friendly Folks Are Not So Friendly

November 23, 2017

As always, we start out with the shout-outs.  The artist Impreint, who is the blogger behind IMPREINT journal, stopped by my blog, and gave it a like.  Since I like checking out bloggers who check me out, I dropped in on them and found some very interesting photographic art, and a link to their Facebook page with even more.  Check them out right here if you enjoy interesting visuals.

There is a Facebook page called The Villages Friendly Folks.  Like most social media groups I have stumbled across here in “Florida’s Friendliest Hometown“, it is populated by people who are obviously living vicariously through the Internet because they have no real life to speak of.

As with The Pine Hills Social Club, The Villages Friendly Folks is a place where some people go to brag about what they have got, some go to foist made-up lives upon people who have no idea what a pitiful existence they led wherever it was they originally came from, and some just show up asking questions that they can easily find the REAL answers to easier, elsewhere.

I got myself banned from The Villages Friendly Folks Facebook page for pointing out the fact that there is a better way to find real answers to community standard questions than to throw the questions out on social media, where a few dozen people will give you a few dozen different opinions, as opposed to real answers.  That might not be the best way to avoid running afoul of The Community Standards Department.

For crying out loud, these people obviously have an Internet connection if they are on Facebook.  What in the world is preventing them from going to the authoritative Community Development District’s Community Standards page where the REAL answer lies?

My guess is a combination of things:  boredom, loneliness, and some of the other things that come with moving away from family, friends, coworkers, and the neighbors they once knew.  Not everyone is mentally equipped for retirement, I suppose.

It’s a twisted life……….


The Big Chicken And The Little Chicken

November 14, 2017

It came to pass that the wife and I decided to meander off to McAlister’s Deli to have a little lunch.  They have a mouth watering club sandwich that I was hankering for.

We took a two seat table by the window so as to watch the world go by, which usually happens at a very leisurely pace here in The Villages.  Wouldn’t you know it, we sat directly across the aisle from the big chicken, the little chicken, and their two hens.

If you have ever watched cartoons as a child, you will know what I am referring to.  The big chicken is a gregarious buffoon who talks so loud that the whole barnyard gets a whiff of his conversation.  It is designed to let everyone in earshot know how stately, cool, and adventurous the big chicken is.  The little chicken is a hanger-on who would not have a friend in the world if it was not for being the big chickens adoring yes man.

During the course of our lunch, the big chicken approached another table, the inhabitants of which he was obviously acquainted with, and regaled them with his weekend travel plans.  The folks who had their lunch interrupted were polite.  They allowed the big chicken his braggadocio.  They nodded in all of the proper places.  Then they shook their heads as the big chicken walked away.

All the while the little chicken sat patiently with the hens, running his fingers through his Just For Men dyed Dark Brown hair.  That stuff is soooo obvious.  Who else but the little chickens of the world would even consider using it?

It’s a twisted life……….

It Does Not Mean You Are Cool Just Because You Play Guitar

November 11, 2017

So I took my guitar and went over to the Paradise Recreation Center to look into the Acoustic Guitar Club.  According to their listing in The Villages Recreation & Parks section that gets inserted into the Thursday edition of The Villages Daily Sun each week, “It is open to those who play guitar, banjo, violin, harmonica, bass or any other string instrument”.  I guess I should have been skeptical when they alluded to fact that a harmonica might be a string instrument, huh?

It also states that “Members play various types of music, from traditional to contemporary”.  Yay! It sounds like there is a place for one and all, even a string harmonica player.

Into the room I went.  I said “Hi kids” at room-filling volume.  There were plenty of eyes on me, a couple of nods from the less countrified looking members, and an icy silence that was deafening.  Not a big deal I thought, let the music do the talking.

The leader of the pack, who I later found out was not the real leader, just a guy who took it upon himself to get the ball rolling, took a look in my direction and called out that “We gonna play Okie from Muskogee“.  And play it they did.  A few of the more redneck looking of the bunch kept glancing over to my corner, and I swear they started singing louder when they got to the part about “we don’t wear our hair long and shaggy, like the Hippies out in San Francisco do”.

Well, I do.  My hair, what is left of it, is long and shaggy.  I look like an old hippie.  It is my style.  It is not, however, my actual lifestyle, and as far as I am concerned it drew out the bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, of a cabal of redneck buffoons.  When they broke out into Foggy Mountain Breakdown, I picked up my guitar and walked out.

It’s a twisted life……….

Pushing It

November 9, 2017

Here is something my wife and I noticed as we were gallivanting to and fro over the last day or two. She put it into words far better than I would be capable of. Enjoy……….

Life in the Oasis

I am just old enough to remember when Christmas decorations in the stores went up the day after Thanksgiving, which was the same day Christmas carols started playing on the radio, and families in the old neighborhood put up their outside decorations, come mild or bitter cold breezes off Lake Michigan. In fact, it was a treat to go Downtown to see what Marshall Field’s window themes were for any given year, but you couldn’t do that until after Thanksgiving.

Slowly, decorations and the not-so-subtle hinting at great store bargains began creeping up before Thanksgiving, and so much so that well, nowadays you can stick your head into any one of several ginormous arts-crafts-sewing stores, and yes, The Decorations are up and serenaded by Eartha Kitt belting out “Santa Baby.” In July. Or – gasp! – June.

My Ma told me that when she was growing up, nobody put up…

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Who Are You?

November 6, 2017

Let us get the honorable mentions out of the way, shall we?  It appears that I have gained a new follower.  A poet, philosopher type.  He resides at Success Inspirer’s Blog.  Do yourself a favor and check it out.

Now, let us deal with the question:  Who are you?  There are more than a few anonymous people dropping in on my musings here.  I don’t publish to social media; I have given that up.  While there are people coming from search engines, WordPress can not seem to be able to tell me what the search terms were.  This keeps me wondering.  Are you getting here from Categories?  Tags?  Stalking me?  What?

Take That Shit Elsewhere

November 4, 2017

Look what you made me do you phony bitch, you made me drop a dime on you.

I am not prone to snitching.  In fact, it wrenches my guts if and when I am driven to do so.  I would much rather get the cathartic cleansing I get when I expose your disregard for your fellow travelers in my very little read blog, but Debra, you and Rocky have pushed me to do both.

Living in a deed restricted community means that you have to follow certain rules.  One of those rules is that if you are owned by a dog, that dog has to be on a leash when he or she appears in public.  The lady across the street chooses not to follow that rule.  You can see her sashaying her ass down the street, with her Chihuahua, Rocky, off leash, running helter-skelter, to and fro, wherever he damn well pleases.

Today, he decided to relieve himself on my front lawn, which in turn, turned my dogs, Toby and Trixie, into raging maniacs, barking like mad dogs because some interloper was desecrating their property.  I cannot say that I blame them.  I was pissed as well.

She picked it up alright, but the fact remains that if she followed the rules, her little mouse dog would have never been as deep over my property line as he was.

Yeah, I had a choice.  I could have gone out and confronted her, pointing out that I have noticed ever since I moved here that she ignores the leash rule, but that would have lead to the fact that I think that she, as a renter, should be extra special careful when it comes to the rules.  I could have pointed out that The Villages provides a dog park for those who want to allow their dogs to run free, off leash.  I even could have ignored it, just like I have been ever since we moved in.  None of those seemed appropriate today, so I dropped a dime to Community Standards.

The bottom line is that now feel like a snitch, a rat, a trick, and whatever other words fit a tattletale, but it seems better to feel like that than to get into a public confrontation with a bitchypoo.

It’s a twisted life……….


October 29, 2017

There are back.  The Snowbirds are flocking back, and with them come all manner of discomfort.  The stores are more crowded, good parking is harder to find, and the waiting lists are forming at the restaurants.

The most dangerous drivers in all of the land have descended upon Florida’s Friendliest Hometown.  We have these things called round-a-bouts on three of our major streets that run north to south here, and these maniacs have no clue as to how to negotiate them.  Even thought there are signs telling you where to yield, and which lane to use to go where you need to go, the Snowbirds just barrel on through with no regard for anyone else.

Sure the businesses love them, and their money.  They are good for the local economy to be sure.  They more or less help subsidize the cost of living here, but personally I would not mind paying a little more to be here if only they were outlawed.

Let them just keep going.  They could invade South Florida.  Let them hang in Miami, or Naples, or Boca Raton, or The Keys even.  That was their tradition once upon a time; let them return to their natural habitat.  Like most birds, they are dirty, filthy creatures, and I don’t like them.  If they insist on staying warm and avoiding freezing temperatures, let them go to Hell.

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