once weekly, usually on Saturdays
Let’s see what happens when your host (me) has nothing to say, and instead it’s open mike night. Step right up, speak your mind, tell a story, sing a song, whatever.
7/5/2025
Anything goes #35
29 responses to “Anything goes #35”
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Adventures in Gardening
I filled out the info they wanted at the doctor’s office and when the he bounded into the exam room, a youthful sixty, the first thing he said was, “You had sex forced on you?!” Of all the questions I answered that was the only one he cared about. I didn’t realize that checking “Yes” on that question would make him so excitable.
It was the rare, if not singular, occurrence when I had two women who liked me. One was my top assistant, harvest wench, out in the Gulch and the other had the same role in town. Yes those were the days I was bi, bi-county: Growing weed in both Humboldt and Mendocino.
In town was Sandy, a plump, okay chubby, well fat honestly, a very sexy obese woman. We would be hanging the hangers of marijuana on the wires in the upstairs drying room and I’d take her in my arms, kiss her, and my hands roamed all over her. She returned my embraces with her succulent lips and our work times would be punctuated with make-out and petting sessions. (Once she was on top of me in her bed in the barn after work and things were getting hot, those huge thighs hovered over me, but I just couldn’t do it, she was too big.)
Stormy was a Monsanto heiress I’d met on a dating site online. She was one of those women who espoused her opinions with argumentative conviction as if she knew what she was talking about, but rarely did. Her certainty was so convincing, even in its vacuity, that I told her she should be one of those talking heads on cable news.
Once she came into town to help us, rain was predicted and we all had to get the OG in. Sandy told me later that I acted very strangely when all three of us were together, very fluttery she said.
I went out to work and spent the night in the Gulch leaving Sandy to watch things in town. After dinner Stormy came over to where I was sitting in the wing chair and sat on my lap. Her hands were all over me but I just sat there, not responding. Finally she said, “What’s wrong?”
I hesitated then said, “I have a crush on Sandy.”
“What?!” She said. She got off me and went to sit on the couch. A few minutes later, after I explained how I had been playing around with Sandy, she said. “I don’t care. I want you anyway.” I thought if I wouldn’t have sex with Sandy I better have sex with Stormy as I had no other options. She took my hand, lead me upstairs to the bedroom, and had her way with me.
“You have to tell Sandy we had sex,” she said. I resisted that idea for a couple days then finally told her. It completely turned her off and we had no more make-out or petting sessions.
Stormy left and Sandy continued to withhold her affections from me so I moved her up to the attic and took away her nice bed downstairs. I took it apart and hauled it out to the Gulch and since it was an Ikea bed it fell apart and I lost some of the screws. I knew it was mean to take her bed away because she wouldn’t kiss me and play with me anymore but isn’t that what they mean by “All’s Fair in Love and War”?
It took awhile to get the replacement screws from Ikea but in a year or so I moved the bed back to town. I didn’t have sex for three years after that until I was set up with the orgasmic goddess with multiple issues last summer. Now it’s a year and counting in my latest drought.
My doctor would be amused.
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“How extravagant you are, throwing away women like that. Some day they may be scarce.”
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I had to check out how you reviewed Casablanca, just to complete your check-up from the neck-up. And you always come through. There were some iffy reviews in the 70s that implied Casablanca glorified war. But you saw through that horseshit and found an atheist’s prayer for peace. Thanks for all the terrific reviews.
John
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Casablanca be good, though I think Claude disagrees. My ‘review’ was certainly piffle, though. If there’s life enough left, I’ll see it again and give it at least a few paragraphs.
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story is ten years old, they are scarce indeed, very…nonexistent…invisible…no hope,
but there’s a sort of freedom with no hope, and it doesn’t matter, I’m sure you get it…-
I find that reassuring, honestly. I’d pictured you still getting plenty, when for me it’s so impossible I don’t even daydream about daydreaming about it.
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Ubi vita est, ibi spes est.
jtC
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What chu talkin bout, Willis?
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Where there is life, there is hope. I accidently typed it in French.
jtb
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I knew a girl who got accidentally French. Tragic case, really, but she got better. That’s the tragedy.
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The stories are fine, but following one with a John Prine song just seems wrong. Do we need a second category of miscellany?
John, trapped in a basket of his own weave.
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Mr Prine doesn’t much care who his opening act is.
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Yeah, it doesn’t matter how much of the audience walks — it’s the briskness of their steps that stings.
jtb
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John Prine died in the spring of 2020 of COVID-19. The President of Ireland declared a day of mourning and issued an extended statement, highlighting John’s contribution to Irish music and Irish culture. Not a bad sendoff for a kid from Chicago, who wrote his songs in his head while he was delivering mail on his daily route. As you know, I’ve been a Prine fan for decades and continue to be saddened by his absence. A world without John Prine is a world with a little less love and a little less laughter.
jtb
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This is not and never will be a world without John Prine.
He might be the best thing Roger Ebert ever did.
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Certainly the review Ebert wrote of Prine was right up there with his best reviews of movies. Ebert captured what Prine did as well as anybody did over the next 40 years. Not bad for a movie guy.
jtb
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I love the story of it, though. Guy wrote very, very well, often about movies that didn’t particularly deserve such good writing. And the reviews are worth reading, if you’re a film buff. But one night he wandered into a bar and wrote about what he saw and heard there, and it changed a lot of lives, lots more than any dang movie review.
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OK, let’s make sure to tell the whole story (as Ebert told it). He went to see a movie to review it and it was so bad that he had to get the hell our of the theater and go to a bar less than halfway through the film. It was a Sunday night, and that was John’s night to play at that bar. Sam Stone closed the deal for Ebert (he mentioned the song in his review). Because of the review, people started flooding the bar, and soon Prine was playing Friday/Saturday/Sunday. (Still a long way to go from there, but that was the launchpad.
jtb
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“I never had an empty seat after that,” Prine told NPR in 2018. “I was still making my living as a mailman. And I was singing after that (review) three nights a week and two shows a night. And there was a line outside. And things just got better from then on.”
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I have a strong preference to not follow anyone from the Trump administration in the program. It would only confuse people and erode fifty years of attempted brotherhood.
jtb
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Every last one of them should be prosecuted.
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I wish my cock could encircle the globe, impaling every politician along the way
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I’ve worked some in local politics, mostly a long time ago. I worked on the campaign of the first out gay man elected to the Tacoma City Council. He was honest and decent and represented the poorest neighborhoods in Tacoma with courage and honor. He was also a serious reader and book collector, so I ran into him fairly often when he wasn’t in the middle of a campaign.
There are politicians like that across the country, in big cities and sleepy hamlets and even in Tacoma, Washington. They are part of the works of a free society. If I were to change anything about democratic countries, it would be the school systems. An educated populace would NEVER vote for Trump or most of the Republicans (and some of the Democrats) in the legislative branch of government.
We need politicians. We just need better ones.
jtb
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Well, yeah, but any politician who’s not objecting to 2025, and loudly, needs Claude’s cock.
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I met a crazy lady in Tacoma who said that city councilman fucked her over financially, something to do with her house. I wrote a possibly entertaining story about my night with her, may share it next week, too much sex talk in it for the AVA, but here anything fukin’ goes, i hear…
(now i gotta read about Doug’s tooth…)-
Even the good guys are human, probably good guys only in front of the cameras. What I’m wondering is, have you ever met an attractive woman you didn’t subsequently pork?
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I remember hovering on this and spending hours trying to come up with a clever retort, between sleep and paralysis, always surprised to find my finger was still on the mouse and the words were still in my head, not on the screen.
My best line was, “Your cock better have a passport,” but even my best sorta sucks. Damn, my tooth hurts.
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I’m sorry about your tooth and hope you reach painlessness prontodente. I spent hours with this particular councilman away from cameras and found his behavior honest and above reproach. I didn’t agree with him on every issue, but over a period of ten ears I never saw him act like an asshole, to a constituent or to anybody else. I don’t know his whole life story, but his council votes are still on record. Besmirching the record of everyone who has run for office is an odd way of going after Trump, who needs some going-after.
John
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Prontodente!
We’re in the same paragraph but I think you’re talking to someone else. I don’t besmirch, but I’d cheerfully behead all the Dems who’ve remained silent.
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