Bloggers block.

I keep having the brilliant ideas for content. Usually when I'm in the car or in the shower or something like that. By the time I get around to posting, I've forgotten what the hell I was going to write about.

They say the first thing to go is your memory. I can't remember what the second thing was.

You know where I really want to put this 20 ft. pole?

I pasted this from the The Atlanta Journal-Constitution website.

The flag's OK but the pole's not

By Kevin Duffy
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Published on: 10/27/06

Americans love the flag, but few show their love as passionately as Roy Johnson of Newnan.
Little flags hang from the rearview mirror of his car and decorate displays in his living room. The Stars and Stripes adorns Johnson's mailbox and a sleeve on his T-shirt. The almost new Harley-Davidson Ultra Classic parked in his garage carries a full-size flag.
"I've got flags everywhere," boasts the 37-year-old truck driver.
Including one on a 20-foot pole a few steps from the front door of his home in a Coweta County subdivision.
And that's the problem.
The flagpole violates the subdivision's policy on exterior structures —- and must come down.
"It's kind of a cut-and-dry case," said Stephen A. Winter, an attorney for the Avery Park Community Association. "The association said, 'No, we don't allow flagpoles.'"
The association has threatened to fine Johnson $25 a day, hire someone to take down the flagpole or sue him.
"It's sad that someone trying to be patriotic is going through this situation," said Avery Park resident Jeff Carroll, the commander of the local VFW post.
Located on the north side of Newnan, Avery Park is one of the largest subdivisions in Coweta County, with 406 homes and 154 more to come. Johnson, his wife, Angela, and his 6-year-old stepson Payton moved into their new, three-bedroom home in December.
Their decorating motif is Old Glory and Harley-Davidson: framed Harley puzzles, Harley replicas from the Franklin Mint, a Harley clock.
Johnson has never served in the military, but a folded flag in a display case above the fireplace was presented to his wife's family after the death of her grandfather, a World War II veteran.
"I love eagles," Johnson said, showing an eagle tattoo on his arm and describing another one he can't show. "Eagles and the American flag. Freedom. That's the symbol of America."
Johnson put up the pole June 13, the day before Flag Day, and he insists he didn't need the community association's permission.
"You can't deny me putting up an American flag," he said. "That's my First Amendment right. That's my freedom of speech."
Johnson cited The Freedom to Display the American Flag Act of 2005, which President Bush signed into law in July. It states homeowner associations can't outlaw flag displays but can impose "any reasonable restriction pertaining to the time, place or manner" of display.
But Johnson argues that Avery Park's covenants aren't reasonable and are too loosely written to reasonably outlaw flagpoles.
Residents in the subdivision can display flags on small poles attached to houses and on mailboxes, but the 20-foot pole, Winter said, is a bit much.
"We can't give one guy an exception because he thinks he's more patriotic than everybody else," he said. "If he's such a patriot, I don't know why he wouldn't know about the law. Sometimes people are stubborn."
This is far from the first time patriotism has run afoul of local zoning ordinances.
Two years ago, Fayetteville ordered a business owner to remove his 90-square-foot "God Bless America" banner hanging from his furniture store.
Last year, a 9-year-old generated national attention when neighbors in her Duluth subdivision complained after she painted a huge flag on her neighborhood cul-de-sac.
And in Florida, a homeowners association tried to foreclose on a house owned by a retired Marine who owed $21,000 in fines after refusing to remove his flagpole.
That one was only 12 feet high.
Johnson, though, is ready to defend his flagpole.
"If I have to go to the Supreme Court, that's where it's going," he said. "Because I'm not backing down. And I'm not taking down that flag."

This is why I don't live in a subvivision. I'll be damned if I'm paying two hundred thousand dollars for something just so someone can tell me what I can do with it. Friggin H.O.A. can go to hell. I wish this guy the best of luck. Unforunately, he'll probably get his butt kicked in court.

L.

I owe everything to you.
You started me down the road to becoming a pilot.
No one understands me like you do.
We compliment each other better than any couple I've ever witnessed.
Friends use us as a relationship measuring stick.
Temperature is something we never fight about.
No matter how stupid I get about things, you seem to understand.
You hold me up when I need it.
I'm lazy and you're OK with it.
You're fantastic at nookie.
You still laugh at my retarded jokes.
You always thank me for doing the littlest things.
We like the same foods.
You're not anal about anything. (OK maybe a little about turning the lights off)
We never fight about money even though I spend more of it than you.
Power tools are as cool to you as they are to me.
You go to work every day and bust your ass even though you hate it.
You're more real than anyone else I've ever met.

Numb.

I'm a tropical person. I don't do well in the cold. I was born in Vegas and raised in Indiana, Los Angeles, and Florida. I wasn't a military brat. My mom was a nomadic person I guess. At any rate, I did most of my growing up in LA and Jacksonville so I like warm weather. This might really bug some of you but, believe it or not, GA is a little too cold for me in the winter. It's now starting to get a little nippy here and I can feel myself wanting to settle in for the winter. This has a profound effect on my ability to get anything done. When I wake up on my days off, all I want to do is sit on the reclining love seat wrapped in a blanket with a cup of coffee and a cat in my lap. This isn't helping me conquer my Laziness.

Never when you need one.

One time L and I caught a guy stealing beer from a gas station. It was the end of my shift. I was working security for the law office next door and this dude came running out with two twelve packs of beer and the clerk in tow. He was a little white guy who looked to be in his early fifties. I think the beer weighed more than he did. L and I cut him off as he was trying to escape to his get-away car, a rickety old Chevy Celebrity. His buddies, waiting for him in the car, instantly tromped on the gas and the old clunker sputtered away before we had the thought to get the license number. The poor little dude gave up any hope of escape when his buds left him behind. He turned around without saying a word and we escorted him back into the store. The clerk dialed 911 and reported that we had the thief in custody and needed the police to show up and arrest him. It took just over an hour for a cop to show up and arrest the dude. I was so pissed that I was about ready to let the guy go. As the cop was writing the report and getting our statements the old Chevy did a drive by (I guess it's true that they return to the scene of the crime.) We quickly point out the car and the cop bolts to his cruiser like...well a lot like a guy who just stole a couple twelve packs, and tears off in hot pursuit. I thought about waiting for the cop to come back and finish taking my statement for all of one second before L and I went home. We never heard anything about it from that point on.

Bad girls, bad girls, whacha gonna do?

Putting my pants on to go to work my mid shift this evening. Ding-dong. The door bell rings. My next door neighbor is at the door at 9:15 PM. Our closest neighbor, she lives several hundred feet away and our house is tucked in a wooded patch of rural Georgia so we rarely see her, let alone talk to her. She asks L if either of us has to go anywhere tonight as I walk up straightening the shirt I just put on. Evidently there has been an accident at the end of my driveway. I ask if we need to call the authorities and our neighbor says that it's probably unnecessary. L follows our neighbor to the end of the driveway while I finish getting dressed.

I hop in my car and drive out to the road. My driveway is gravel and winds about three hundred feet through the woods to the street. As I get to the end of the driveway, I see a white Cadillac sprawled across the end blocking my exit. On the road is my neighbors car with the hazard lights on. My neighbor and her boyfriend were returning from a date and were behind (lucky for them) this Cadi when it veered off the road into the ditch. It hopped the hump of my driveway plowing through some small saplings and a couple logs the power company had left when trimming back some trees a while ago. It came to rest about a foot from my mail box and length-wise across my driveway.

The lady driving was not just drunk but completely hammered. She was the most drunk individual I've witnessed since my army days. We all felt sorry for her, in spite of her being an idiot and driving in her condition. The neighbor offered to drive her, a black woman in her late thirties, home. We said it was OK with us as long as the car got moved before the end of the day tomorrow. They made it as far as the stop sign at the end of the road where they asked her which way to go. Clearly out of her mind she replied with "Oh...You know." So the nice couple attempting to chauffeur her home did a 180 degree turn and brought her back to the scene of the accident. We had no choice but to call the cops. The woman wouldn't tell us her name and the only thing her car was a bunch of bibles on the floor of the passenger side. While waiting for the police in the back of the boyfriends car, she vomited all over the beige leather back seat. Surprisingly, he didn't have a shit fit or anything. He just joked with his date that she was going to have to clean the mess up because it was her idea to give the woman a ride home.

It must have been a slow night for the cops. It took them all of three minutes to get there once we called and this wasn't even an emergency since no one was hurt and nothing was broke (except the Cadi.) The officer was young and seemed to be in a jovial mood. He was really gentle and patient with the drunk woman. He and L attempted to coax the drunken woman from the car. L helped that woman from the seat and steadied her while trying to escort her back to the police cruiser. She went willingly for about three steps. Then she realized she was being escorted back to a cop car and her attitude changed. She became belligerent. The woman tried to turn around and go the other way but she was obviously too drunk to make any sudden movements and almost fell down. The officer took over for L and escorted the woman back to his car. He sat her in the back seat.

I was in danger of being late for work so I found a path through the woods where my car would fit and navigated my way to the neighboring driveway where I was able to make it out to the road. I kissed L goodbye and was on my way. I was almost to work when L called and told me that two other cops showed up and the woman became almost violent when they asked her to take a sobriety test. She refused. They read her rights to her and tried to put her back in the cop car. She kept sticking her foot out the door so they couldn't close it. Eventually she had to be strongly encouraged to keep her foot in the car. L said "It was so cool! Just like watching cops on TV." I laughed and wondered why they needed three cops to handle a tiny black woman who could barely stand. No wonder there's never a cop around when you want one.

Pluggin.

I'm really not the type of person who endorses products but I would appreciate it if you would at least check out Bobs' site and consider hooking this dude up. He's an incredibly gifted writer and a true lover of his fellow man. You can't go wrong with this purchase. Even if the content sucks (which it absolutely will not) you can feel good about helping someone who helps everyone he meets. Plus, when he becomes a literary legend, you'll have an original copy of one of his first published works.

Good luck Bob. As soon as I can confirm that I have the money in my Paypal account, you'll have it bro.

That four letter word.

Lazy.

I was beginning to think that my single biggest flaw was being conquered. Now I can see that I'm relapsing back to my old ways and it's pissing me off. As I get older, I realize that my time is valuable to me. I hate it when I spend a day farting around, not accomplishing anything in particular. The problem is I don't feel bad as I'm wasting time. Only after the fact do I regret it. I've neglected my housework, the dune buggy, this blog, and the gym. I have had a busy couple weeks but I've also had plenty of down time as well.

I've narrowed my lazy issue to two key factors. One, I have trouble getting started. I procrastinate and put off until it's almost too late to do anything. Two, I can't seem to assign myself any deadlines. Unless I have some sort of outside pressure forcing me to get the job done. I just take my time. I always get things done in time but it affects the quality of the task that I'm doing. I had this problem in school too. I was one of those kids that would wait until the last minute to do any school work. I firmly believe that I would've been a straight "A" student if I wasn't lazy. School was easy for me when I applied myself.

The true scope of my lazy issue never really sank in until I went to college. After a rocky start, I was always on the dean's list. I sabotaged myself the first year and a half by trying to take on too much. I had two jobs and a full course load. My grades reflected my insane schedule. Once I discovered my happy medium, one job and two to three classes per semester, I saw my true academic potential.

So how can I change who I am? It seems that I don't have that little voice in my head that makes me get up off my ass. At least not until it's too late to get off my butt. I have to reprogram my brain. It's hard but I've had mild success thus far. I am, however, prone to relapse. Writing helps. Thank you precious reader(s) for that. Having you anonymous readers out there is keeping me in the game. I may beat, or at least tame, my problem yet.

Beliefs

In no particular order.

I believe...

• What comes around, goes around. (you'll get yours too asshole)
• People need to live and let live. (I won't tell you what to do if you don't tell me what to do)
• I can do just about anything. (my only limits are physical)
• In planning for the worst and hoping for the best. (I like to call it pessimistic optimism)
• We can do better for our fellow man. (even if I personally don't put much effort into it)
• That Republicans and Democrats aren't much different. (they're all crooks)
• The TV is a propaganda machine feeding us bullshit 99% of the time. (and I still watch it)
• Most people are good. (there are exceptions)
• There are two sides to every story. (and I'm good at reading between the lines)
• I can get along with just about anyone. (it doesn't mean I have to like them)
• Being politically correct is morphing into censorship. (so I hurt your feelings...get over it)
• The best time to live in the USA started in fifties and ended in the sixties. (sad but true)
• I'm too complacent. (every once in a while I should get more involved)
• I'm not always the good guy. (though I try to be)
• That God is as real as Santa. (I just lost 3 of my 4 readers for that)
• Natural selection for people is a good thing. (if you're that stupid, you probably deserve to die)
• Love is the best chance for the human race. (it is universal throughout man/womankind)

My kingdom for a nap.

I'm loosing it. I think it's lack of sleep. I woke up late (11:30AM) on Thursday and have slept a grand total of three hours since then. The time now 5:30 AM on Saturday. I still have to work until 2PM and come back at 10PM for another ten hours. No wonder bleed coffee when I cut myself. If it wasn't for caffeine, I would be a danger to those around me. My attitude is bad enough as it is. When I'm this tired, I just can't be responsible for my actions. To make matters worse, Folgers discontinued my favorite home brew so Starbucks will be making even more money off me this week. Folgers whole bean French Vanilla you will be missed dearly.

Question of the week:I need a new "Go to" home brew. What's your favorite?

More poker, hold the cotton.

L had such a good time in Tunica, she decided we need to go to Biloxi this weekend. I already had plans to go with my dad on our annual trip to SERFI which will put me half way there anyway. Like a responsible adult, I protested the opportunity to go play more poker and look at airplanes as well. But she is making me do it. Sadly, I have no choice but to cave to her demands. Every once in a while, you must compromise to maintain a happy marriage. Maybe she secretly hates me and is trying to fatten me up with free buffets. Next time I'm putting my foot down. Nookie be damned!