Category Archives: Wolf Tales

A Very Important Message to Trump Voters from the Chief

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November 28, 2020 · 1:13 AM

Really Now!

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November 9, 2020 · 9:12 PM

Done

To my fellow Americans (and pretty much the rest of the world):

It’s almost over!  Both 2020 and this year’s elections are almost done.  I can see the sun peeking over the horizon.  Yes, it’s there – waiting for the demise of our current morass.  And then we will be free!  And we can continue on with our lives!  Hold on, brothers and sisters!  The aftermath is upon us, and we will be delivered to freedom!

(If freedom doesn’t arrive as expected, please feel free to imbibe in your vice of choice.)

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Local? Hell, Yeah!

I’ve already heard some people threatening to leave the U.S. if Donald Trump is elected to a second term. Okay, bye! I will stay and fight to make this country as good as it was getting BEFORE Trump got into office! I was born and raised here. My Spanish ancestors were the first European settlers in Texas, and my Indian ancestors were here long before them. Even my German predecessors have been in the U.S. for several generations.

I’m not going anywhere!

Newcomer:  “So you’re from right here in Texas?”

Me:  “Yes, I am.”

“Born and raised?”

“Born and raised.”

“Lived here all your life?”

“Not yet.”

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Steve Bannon Looks Like…

On Thursday, the 20th, the political world received a shock when Steve Bannon, former campaign manager to Donald Trump, was arrested on tax fraud charges.  Okay, maybe not too many were shocked.  I mean, Bannon is the 10th former Trump official to be indicted on something.  Bannon has been charged with personally using money from a non-profit intended to build a massive wall on the U.S. border with México – you know, the wall for which México was supposed to pay.  Adding to the elitist irony of it all, Bannon was taken into custody aboard a yacht owned by an exiled Chinese billionaire.

But it’s Bannon’s mug shot that has elicited a slew of raucously crass comments.  Any mug shot – which are just one step above driver’s license photos – always makes for a few good laughs.  Looking at Bannon’s pic incurred all sorts of unsavory images in the Chief’s perpetually disturbed mind.

Hence, Steve Bannon’s mug shot makes him look like:

  • The creepy old guy at the end of the bar who keeps winking at you.  (I’ve been on both ends.)
  • A man enduring a midlife crisis stepping into a Ferrari dealership while his wife is at a church retreat.
  • A Walmart greeter.
  • Fellow blogger and my brother in creatively mental instability Art Browne. (Love you, buddy!)
  • A refugee from Jimmy Buffett’s “Margaritaville”.
  • Any drunk at a Waffle House between midnight and 4 a.m.
  • A headshot for a reverse mortgage commercial.
  • Jerry Garcia’s missing twin.
  • An NFL referee.
  • Any 1980s-era televangelist.
  • A 1980s-era rock star fresh out of rehab.
  • A 1970s-era porn star fresh out of rehab.
  • Any number of homeless men I used to see on the streets of downtown Dallas – only more pathetic.
  • The old man who asks, “Want some candy?”
  • The Chief at age 70.  Oh God, how terrifying!

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Vintage Mature

As the nation’s population matures (e.g. grows older), I’ve learned we have a need to address our elders in more respectful terms.  For one thing, we don’t refer to them any longer as “elders.”

The Chief hereby has created a number of more appropriate terms to refer to…well, the aged.

  • A record in 78rpm – still producing great music!
  • A 1965 Buick Riviera: hard-bodied, beautiful symmetrical lines and a finely-tuned engine.
  • An 1896 Stanley Steamer – original and classic.
  • Hurricane Camille – dangerous, yes, but you set the standard for power.
  • A 12th century Germanic castle – you’re battered and cracked, but still standing strong and steady.
  • A 50-year-old oak tree – you’ve been here for so long, but you give the best shade.
  • An ancient Mayan pyramid – buried beneath centuries’ worth of jungle growth, but you’re still here and impressive!
  • A 5,000-year-old Chinese vase – large and cumbersome, but still gorgeous, ornate and looking great in the sunlight!
  • A corner diner people have visited for decades – still there and always serving great food.
  • A 1995 Microsoft pc…ok, maybe not a good reference.
  • That old red brick home at the end of the street – people have called you the spooky house because you’ve always been there, but they just don’t know how wonderful you really are.
  • A grand hotel – filled with love and memories and more than a few stories to put people in their place.
  • The Grand Canyon – a little wide and rugged, but still strong and vibrant.
  • A giant redwood – old, yes; craggy, yes; but nothing has knocked you down!
  • A 19th century decanter set – been here so long people forget how beautiful and vital you really are.
  • A quilt grandmother made – you’re not just meant to sit in the closet; you keep us warm and feeling loved!
  • A book published a lifetime ago – a bit tattered and wrinkled, but always providing some good tales.
  • An early motion picture – okay, black and white with no sound; yet amazing and marvelous.
  • A Roman aqueduct – seemingly old and useless, but the fools don’t know you!
  • Earth’s moon – yes, ancient and far away, but still here and still vital.

My Yorx electronic clock/radio that my parents bought for me when I began high school in 1978.  It still functions, and I still use it!  Over the past 20 years I’ve gone through 4 cell phones.

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Stuck

Why can’t I move?  I just can’t move!  It’s like I’m glued to this bed.  With the VCR playing.  VCR?  And a porn video.  Really?  At this time of…what time is it?

I have no idea what’s going on.  Why am can’t I move?  What stupid video is playing?  On a VCR?!  I didn’t know I had a TV in my bedroom.  Why the fuck can’t I move?!

And – oh, what the hell!  There’s a naked man standing over there!  Who the – ?!  Who is he?!  Who are you?!  Standing here in my bedroom!  Butt-ass naked!  What the – ?!

At some other time, that would be a fantasy come to life.  O the start of some cheesy porn film.  Speaking of porn…what the hell is going on here?!

What’s happening?!
I can’t believe this!

I can’t move!

I’m stuck here in my own bed!  What the fuck is that all about?!  Why can’t I move?!

I mean…

That’s utterly terrifying.

Imagine that.

You’re in your own bed – and you can’t fucking move!

What else could go wrong?

I have enough shit in my life.

Now this!

I can’t move!

In my own bed!

I’m thirsty.

Great.  I’m thirsty, while laying down, and I can’t get up.  What else can go wrong?

It’s hot in here.

Thirsty and warm.

And stuck in my own bed.

A porn movie playing – on a VCR.

Naked man standing against the wall.

He’s not even looking at me.  Come on, dude!  You’re in my bedroom – sans clothes – and you don’t have the decency to look at me?!

How rude!
I can’t move!

Why can’t I move?

What is going on here?

I’m struggling…squirming…practically bouncing up and down in my own bed.

Trying to get up.

To move.

What’s going on?

Why do I feel paralyzed?

In my own bed.

What an awful feeling.

How is there a TV in my bedroom?

I didn’t move a TV in my bedroom.

With a VCR player.

A VCR!

Aha!

Okay…finally.  I can move.

What the – ?

Okay, I can move.

Wow.

What was that all about?

Okay…fully awake now.

Wow.

My head is hurting.

Okay…what was that all about?

Why did I have that…dream?

I guess.

That’s what it was…right?

A dream.

I don’t know.

I can’t tell.

So weird.

What was that all about?

Why couldn’t I move?

A porn film!

On a VCR!

I don’t have a TV in my bedroom!

What was that?!

Why did that happen?

Why couldn’t I even move?

In my own bed!

What was that all about?

Who was that man?

And why is he still here in my bedroom?

Lying on the floor!

Dead.

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Men Are Dogs

Most straight women will agree with this title.

One of my best friends, Pablo, and I have one of those unique friendships.  I think he’s think; he thinks I’m built like a Greek god.

But, like most men, we consider ourselves dogs.  I do tricks, and he sits up and begs for it.

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Rammed

Age has its ramifications.  Earlier today, as I left a store and approached my truck, I tripped on a dead cockroach – the summer Texas is merciless on all of God’ creatures – and slammed head-on into the front of my vehicle.  It’s a sturdy, high-level 2006 Dodge Ram.  So the damn thing hurt!

A young man rushed over and asked if I was okay.

“Sure”, I told him.  “Not baaaaad.”

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Slurp

A close friend of mine came down from Wichita Falls, Texas the other day to spend a few days with me.  He brought his new companion: a chocolate brown Chihuahua named Cocoa.  Like most small dogs, Cocoa is delectably adorable and innately vicious.  Little dogs have always reminded me of little women: small, cute and surprisingly mean.  I should know!  One of them gave birth to me!

Last night, as Robert and I watched TV, Cocoa curled up in her bed on the floor nearby and – after a while – I could hear her scrounging around.  I had noticed she had been chewing on one of her back legs and, concerned for her welfare, peeked over the coffee table – to see her curled up quietly.

I then realized Robert had set down his phone and had his leg hiked up over his head and – and, you know, even as a 50-something-bisexual-recovering alcoholic writer, there are some things I can go my entire life without seeing!

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