Freddogg Off The Chain

I always thought a sub prime mortgage loan meant the rate was below prime and that was a good thing. I didn’t realize it meant the borrower had qualified as a sub primate which meant it was like giving a loan to a Lemur.

And now these “you lend me money that I can’t pay back and how can I can wrong” couples are suffering home foreclosures and can’t begin to afford even natural habitat Lemur accommodations at the local zoo. No for this class of sub primates who walk erect with opposable thumbs with no disposable income it is always check out time.

But where there is victimization there are additional seedy underhanded white types who will lure the Lemurs into a sub floor of the sub prime contract with the promise of help then rip off whatever equity they have in their home and outbuildings before closing up shop and disappearing into the cul-de-sac of broken dreams.

Nineteen of these scumbags just got busted in Southern California for ripping millions of dollars away from the down and out class. How freaking low and sad is that and it made me wonder,”Could I ever sell a car or piece of property to a young couple knowing it was going to fatten my check book but ruin their lives?

The answer is no that is just all the way wrong and I think these scamming, flimflamming con artists should be deported to Haiti and live forever in the glow of the downtown dung pile.

Honey you look effervescent and phosphorescent

freddogg

“I wouldn’t worry about it much those old dreams are only in your head.” Bob Dylan.

We educated types have taken classes where dreams are analyzed and the best way to remember is to write down the dream in a notebook by the bedside before your feet hit the floor. “But I don’t dream, really I don’t “is a common whine heard from the overachiever in the classroom but they do they just don’t realize that their own sub conscious is so sick of them that the elements for a good dream are not present so they go test pattern for eight hours.

Dreams are best induced by eating food right before bedtime that alter body chemistry or require all organs to work all night long, like devouring half a pepperoni pizza before passing out. The dreams are like a DVD player in the mini van, if the trip is to be long may as well have something to watch.

I never eat jelly beans and I’m not much of a sugar craver so last night just as I prepared for a soft bed landing, my wife, who was reading, turned out the light. There I was in the dark stuck in jeans one injured leg and a fist filled with jelly beans. I almost killed myself kicking free from my pants and sat in the dark on the bed eating one bean at a time while purring like house cat which is not as much fun as it used to be since televisions went to flat screens.

I never had jelly bean dreams before and all I can say is that they were so strange and somewhat scary and it’s been a long time since I telecommuted in the middle of the night. I tried to astro project through the widow of my childhood bedroom but I got stuck and woke up hyperventilating and had to assure myself “it’s only a dream moron” but jelly bean dreams allow you to reenter unlike high school basketball games.

If I ever travel to dementia land quickly buy a tape recorder then enter a creative writing program. Don't worry,we won't mind.



Freddogg and the Pound Posse

The Siamese cat always sleeps in the garage on top of the high definition converter box because he likes to know what time it is. Raven is an eight year old Boney James-Charles Manson-Navy Seal Point survivor. So when a fat-assed raccoon came from the woods and crawled into a bag of dry dog food Raven was like “not my problem I don’t eat that shit anyway.”

But Jesse and Darby, well that’s another story, actually a second story, in a tree top lover Bad Leroy Brown sort of way.

“Well the two men (animals) took to fightin And when they pulled them from the floor Leroy (Darby) looked like a jigsaw puzzle With a couple of pieces gone” Jim Croce

I had a dog Barkley who went face first into a raccoon fight and it cost me 180 dollars to have his face stitched up. Fortunately Jesse and Darby rAn in place until the raccoon had a good head start as he shimmed like my sister Kate on a Jelly plate up the tree growing through my deck deck.

Enter dumb human tricks as I laser locked in with speed flash and took a picture of Biggie Smalls of the Raccoon World realizing that if he perceived being 'lit up' as a threat he would simply drop onto my face and I would be pulverized beyond recognition other than dumb-assed human.

Walk out my door and it is, in fact, a jungle out there.


Freddoggy

Photo is of lonely black dog in a world of white. I captured him outside a repair garage in Georgetown Delaware called 4N Car because no one writing checks can spell foreign.

If you are white then you have heard other whites use the word ‘nigger’ in conversation at points in you life. I don’t know what other races get into when they are in homogeneous groupings but I’m pretty sure that educated and non bigoted peoples of all ethnicities and racial configurations have heard it all. And the question is “do you respond and give a lecture or just recognize it for what it is and thereby keep your access like a double agent otherwise how do you learn that racism is inbreed in some people like a Appalachian family tree.

Revisionist story telling serves no useful person. White racist don’t say N word to each other they say nigger. Once at Wawa I said to a Plummer friend “This coffee is fucked up.” I didn’t say F word upped figuring he was real blue collar guy but he came back at me,” Please don’t use that language around me” and I had no where to go because he was right and I was really fucked up.

Back in 1977 I sat down with a teaching friend a generation older in a faculty dining room for lunch. My friend who was just the greatest most thoroughly Christian person I ever knew, soft spoken and hard of hearing, gentle but tough to the center core of his soul.

Some asshole science guy sits down, checks the room for bugs, and in whispered tones begins to tell a racist joke which includes a white guy, a Jew and to use his word, a nigger.

So the non funny joke drones on to the end and of course the black guy is the punch line except he ain’t no black guy, he’s a ‘nigger.’

After the joke where this racist teacher is hunched over his flying saucer all proud of himself I look at my friend and say,”Go ahead and tell him.”

“Three of my grandchildren are black,”Dick said in a calm voice.

“Got anymore jokes,”I said. “And what makes you assume that all white people share your ignorance? You got caught Mr. Paranoid. How do you like us now?"

Much was made of the recent Obama speech on race and it was good but I could give my own speech but I refuse to talk in code letters because that isn’t anymore more real than a blow up disco dancer.

Play the parent for a moment because this happened to me. A five year old boy wets his hair and combs it carefully with a pompadour in the front. He walks out of the bathroom looks at me and asked in all sincerity,” Hey Dad! Do you think I look like a fagot?”

“Straight up little man.”

Freddogg

Knocking back goals requires a direction and focus and destination but can we ever really arrive in a universe where time elapses and the synapses collapses?

I am a great goal setter and achiever but once I arrive at a destination I prefer to turn around and go back the same way I came.

I haven’t had a drink of alcohol in six months which begs the question why and I don’t have a good reason which means sooner or later I will give up this routine and replace it with the more fun one of trolling summer happy hours for sports tidbits and deducting my bar tab as an entertainment expense.

Five years ago I knocked down a Masters Degree in 18 months and I’m talking about a program that required real papers and attendance and contributions in the classroom. I wanted to see if I could acquire a perfect 4.0 but some post doc bitch dropped a B on my Biotechnology paper titled “In Search of the Gay Gene” and, in fact, referred to my academic treatment of the subject as “the column” which was supposed to put me in my place or my space.

I have run marathons and completed triathlons because someone told me I couldn’t. I walked 100 miles a month for five straight years then stopped because it was just too boring and old people on canes were faster walkers and I began to self loath because all people who walk for exercise are annoying and I was one of them.

And that’s what’s wrong with stay skinny people. They are trapped in their own success. It is so twilight zone and so unfulfillable and disease and death are so random. The game is rigged that is the beauty of the entire system.

Peace

Freddogg

I am an Acme Checker School flunky from back in 1965 partially because of attitude and the remaining parts skill. I have played the loser with the best of them and I can’t say I’ve learned from mistakes because I still make lots of them but I have an ingrained empathy for real working people and I will rise to protect them at a moments notice.

Last Sunday I was next in line checking out of the Super Fresh when the register went off like a car alarm. A fat young white girl with her back to all the checkers she was in charge of turned her head not her body and screamed “hit clear!” The woman who I know dropped out of high school then went back at age 45 to get her GED from night school stood with that little register key and said, ”What?” ‘Hit clear,” said the frustrated Sea Cow who had sent all walrus suitors to deep water.

The woman hit clear and the noise stopped and she said to her bossy lady,”Sorry I couldn’t hear you.” “I said hit clear three times,” bitch woman said.

I entered the game. “Actually you said “’Hit Clear’, Twice.” Shoppers froze realizing I had thrown down the cutlet. I got a stare but I wanted to engage this person and teach her a lesson about leadership. I wanted her to come back in my face but she smirked me off as inconsequential.

Last summer I was walking on the boardwalk at 6 a.m. An older black man and city worker was pushing a loud machine called a Billy Goat when some white guy city administrator showed up and started yelling at him then grabbed the Billy Goat and gave a 15 second demonstration which is simply to roll over the trash and the Billy Goat eats it up.

I wondered if the black man was a Vietnam infantry vet? He was the right age and most deferments went to white college kids. And why would some loser bother the Billy Goat guy on a summer’s morning as the sun was just clearing the horizon line.

I wanted to kick his ass so badly but rent a cops would have come to the rescue and I’m sure I could lay waist to an endless number of them before “the dog” showed up and I ended up in prison with a yard alias ‘Billy Goat Ruff.”

Freddogg

Sports writer and fiction writer Dan Jenkins actually wrote this line

“When I was a younger man I used to fall asleep each night dreaming about pussy. Now I dream about killing people.” Now that is funny.

Thirty years ago I was teaching a class of high school special education kids all freaking endless day long. Needless to say they got on each others last nerves and spent a great deal of time targeting soft targets and scoring put down points.
I made a double iced not symmetrical triple layered bulging disc for each of their birthdays but in order to get a piece of cake everyone had to participate in the dreaded song serenade and then shake the persons hand and wish them a happy birthday without any qualifying commentaries like “Happy Birthday you ugly dog or greasy water buffalo or best wishes you ho bitch.”
Yesterday a women who if she lived in a glass igloo would melt the polar ice cap said to me,”Happy birthday, you old fart.”
I called her on it and disqualified her from the monthly company cake which all employees will eat and they don’t care if your old birthday ass shows up or not.
Once my teacher self walked into a faculty dining room on my birthday and the old maid with 17 cats announced me as a birthday boy because she didn’t want anyone forgetting her's which was two days later or so I was told for 20 straight years.
The dreaded song commenced and I stood enduring it and when it came to the part where a name is inserted there was a slight pause because my name is Dave but no one calls me that and the last name is Frederick and no one calls me that and one or two may call me Fred but mostly I am Fredman so what came out was “Happy Birthday Dear Deadman” which sent me off on a riff saying I was the first person to ever hear that and when I actually died I would appreciate it if every March 14 they would all pause before removing the toothpick from their wiener wink and sing the “Happy Birthday Dear Deadman” song in my honor.
I share a birthday with Albert Einstein-we share the same hair-and the same secret- neither of us had/have the foggiest idea what he was/is talking about.
I do know if fat Aunt Rose were rocketed into space and achieved the speed of blue light she would land in the 1957 food court of the Bargain City Farmer’s Market in Bristol Pennsylvania.
I am so out!
Peace

Deputy Deaddogg

A person is shuffling along or slightly limping as the case may be and for no observable or explicable reason kicks the under bare feet throw rug spastically jumping clear to the more predictable hardwood.

That person, who is I, was startled because just for an instant that pitch of the wheezing through my nose picked up by the acuity of my ears coupled with the texture and instability of the cheesy rug tripped my freight and flight center and I thought a rodent had gotten into the house during the night.

Later that night I adjusted the receiver of the land line phone because I heard someone talking then realized my nose had become a free lancing ventriloquist.

I know schizophrenic people hear voices-they don’t think they hear them-they freaking hear them- which is why they stop telling use about them and the same goes for hallucinations which are what you do see not what you don’t.

“It’s not my fault the rest of you don’t see and hear what I do, ”said my clinically disturbed cousin Janet, who by choice lives in a trailer with a dirt floor in the bedroom.

I am a fast learner and the next time my nose talks to me I’m not telling anyone else but I can’t swear I won’t answer non ringing phones or jump free from phantom rodents.

Peace

Freddogg

Photo One is Samantha Power An Obama Aid No Longer-Harvard Professor who called Hillary a Monster off the record.

Photo Two- Everyone loves a beagle.


Doc was my mentor in journalism. He used to come into my kitchen and always asked if Luigi the Beagle was from Ohio. I would say no and Doc would respond,”Then why does he have an O under his tail?”
Extrapolating that disgusting image all mammals are from Ohio and when Hillary Clinton won the Ohio Democratic primary because the majority of assholes voted for her she went off saying Ohio was the bell weather state and that the road to the presidency always went through Ohio and I’m thinking “Can you get from one side of the state to the other without stopping because who wants to waste away in “No-Wheres-Ville?”
I have friends from Ohio-we all do-and they all left. No one moves to Ohio so when the economic NAFTA nudniks talk about jobs leaving Ohio well dam people with jobs leave because raising a family in the rust belt is a depressing proposition
The Clinton's are working their monstrous magic-that’s what I said- not only bringing down Barack but almost assuring that John McCain will win the White House.
And “off the record” means just that. Anytime a sensitive statement is made to me in an interview I always check back “was that on the record” before publishing.
Arthur Ashe was outed as HIV guy , Mark McGuire as andro-guy and John Rocker as racist guy, all information that should have been kept off the record.
My rule is to stand behind nothing I write or say. Rather I stand in front and I’m not quivering, apologizing or running away.
“If you turn tail and run baring you Ohio ass the dogs just chase you even the puppies, ”Grandmom Rose always said. “Say it-Own it-tell them all to kiss your Ohio ass!”


Drop back and pundit

Freddogg

You know your life took a wrong turn somewhere when you are riding the DART Bus to Dialysis.
Gold’s Gym where I am one of two sixty year old straight members who still do resistance training-“I will not act gay!”- is right next to the dialysis satellite center which is across the street from a cellulite center where fat is removed with a Sears 6 H.P. wet/dry shop vac.
But all seriousness aside a final destination of eternal bliss can never compensate the earthlings who suffer ignominious degradation and pain and you just know there are whiny Americans in heaven who will not be happy until the balance sheet of suffering is equalized.
I always looked at the world like “where you are is where you deserve to be” like earth is a game board of Fisher Price people and some get to be little old bent over people whose kidneys don’t work while other get to be millionaire assholes like Randy Moss.
I will always be happy where I’m at as long as no fat nurse looks at me and utters the scariest word in the English language. ‘Catheter” as if fishing plastic tubing into anyone urethra is ever a good idea.
Druggie gang bangers in South Central L.A. emergency rooms with pierced penises who refuse to give up urine for toxicity screening have been seen running naked into enemy territory at the first mention of the word catheter.
Have you ever talked to a person of the opposite sex who is pushing an I.V gurney with a tube from above coming down into the arm and another coming out between the legs? As my grandmother said when she went to visit my grandfather. “What the fuck is that? Nobody needs to see that. Jesus get my old ass out of here now.”

Peace.

Photo One: Trooper Kim

Photo Two: Red Throw Pillow

Photo Three: Kim's Wife during police search of house.





Knock three times on your forehead asking after each knock “Is this a good idea” before proceeding with any lame brained idea that may land you behind bars rather than in a bar.
Personally when people lose their dam minds and embark on a crime with little or no chance of success- an optional/luxury crime-like the rest of us I like it because it restores my faith in myself as not being the craziest and worse decision maker on the planet.
An Asian American Delaware State trooper looking like Jackie Chen with high SAT scores” set up” a late night robbery of a high stakes poker game at a local country club only marginally exclusive with annual dues of $2500 hardly enough to sift the sands that filter elitism.
So the game gets robbed at gunpoint by masked men like a bad Sopranos episode who take cash, wallets and car keys only after putting red pillowcases on everyone’s head. Rich people ain’t about red pillowcases and consider this uncalled for “trailer park degradation” right out of the Midge Tartaglione Interior Decorating Mediterranean Motif Catalog.
The robbers leave then so does ‘Hong Kong Phooey” telling his mates it is not a good idea for him to be there when the troopers arrive.
The honest troopers are of course perplexed to learn one of their own was a victim who went home before they got there. One thing led to another but the biggest question was “red pillowcases?” only sold at Wallmart where surveillance tape catches Trooper Kim purchasing ten red pillow cases “how many dam pillows you got yo” before getting in his Japanese car with smoked up tinted windows.
A search warrant of the house produced the receipt for pillow cases-a tax deduction?- and keys to cars belonging to his friends-because you know if some armed masked guys in hoods took your key you could never rest easy thinking some night they were coming back to get your car in the dead of night which is why you have a very territorial and temperamental pit bull sleeping in a back seat he takes bites from when having bad dreams.
There is no behavior without motivation which assumes a thought process but if Trooper ‘Who You Calling Little Kim” had employed the knock three times on the forehead rule he may have passed the first stop sign but never all three.
The same rule applies when someone with a gun – at a country club card game-tells you to put on a red pillow case and to lie on the floor. I know that ain’t a good idea so I’m telling a player across the table, “if I was you I wouldn’t do it.” It’s poker night and all about reading faces and bluffing. I ain’t quivering inside some cheap-ass pillow case for no man!
I’d love the job of “debriefing the desperate” How much fun would that be?”

Professor Freddogg

<span style="font-weight:bold;">I googled Wiggy's real name and came up with this picture of Harmon Killebrew. No wonder it took the law so long to find him.

The state of Delaware caught escaped felon and Fredman friend Wiggy last week in North Carolina better known as Nockalyna just above Sockalyna

A press release with picture placard on display used Wiggy’s nickname but in Downstate Delaware you don’t get to hijack nicknames if you are from up north get your own dam felons with nicknames.
And the press release made fun of Wiggy saying he burglarized a house in North Carolina stealing hotdogs and you know something you can make fun of public enemy number one escaped burglar all you want but yaw the ones who got get-losing a handcuffed short guy in jockey shorts from a hospital waiting room and finding him two months later thanks to an anonymous tipster who no doubt had his own time to turn back in exchange for Wiggy’s location.
The governor of Delaware seized this media moment to send out the message “If you escape from us you will be caught” and god knows Delaware has lots or practice leading the USA in escaped work detail guys from divided highways. “Wait let me count again.”

I actually needed a criminal back round check a few years ago to get my WaWa card approved and I came back with two aliases. I just love myself for having aliases. Better than a Ph.D. which is a real alias from most of the over achieved dumb asses who have one and still can’t write or speak a foreign language.

He is also known as Fredman and Doublewide. Doublewide? It is my polar bear love handle. I must go to the court house and add freddogg, freddizzle, Major Dog and Uncle Fred to my criminal profile.

Fab Fried Freddie