Snips and snails and puppydogs tails, living wills and feeding tubes

That is what little me is made of.

I am going on vacation in a couple of days. I will be getting on a big ship and sailing for points south. And imagine this........It is Fleet Week in New York City, and all of those sailors are running wild. Ha ha.

But anyway, whenever I leave home I do get slightly paranoid and make a new will leaving provision for my things and my pets and write scathing things to those currently in disfavor in my life and probably even more scathing things to those in favor in my life. Well, compounding matters this time is the fact that almost as soon as I return to port, I am having life altering surgery. So that makes the will even more special this time.

I have only had to deal with living wills twice in my life.

The first time, My dad, God rest his soul, had spent my entire life telling me........"NO HEORIC MEASURES. Bury me the day I die, let me die a normal death. No tubes, no respirators, nothing!"

And the day I took him to the hospital for the last time, the emergency room doctor asked him......"Sir, if we need to take any heroic measures what is your position on the subject?"

My father asked him...."what does that mean"?

To which the doctor answered...."Mr. Chill Jet, do you want a tube in your stomach for feeding, a tube in your lungs to breathe?"

To which my father replied with out a moments hesitation, not one second of question or doubt "WELL, OF COURSE."

DUH! what had I been thinking all these years. I would have said he wanted the plug pulled, but when it comes right down to it, who doesn't want to extend checkout time in this Holiday Inn of life? Even if it is but by a few minutes.

The second time I had to deal with a living will, was when a friend handed me one and said "Here. I don't trust my family to carry out my wishes. You know them. Would you?" And everything went well for this friend and I never even read the document.

But making my own was something I was hoping to never have to deal with, or atleast not for a long time. It was fairly easy though. Being a lapsed catholic and a faithfully practicing one when it suits my purpose, as are billions of others of CME (Christmas Maybe Easter) Catholics, I took a lesson from the beloved John Paul II, and decided, that feeding tubes were definitely for me. After all, he was the Pope and therefore infallable as God's agent on Earth.

Infallability is something I believe the Cardinals (not the baseball team but for all we know, the athletes could be just as holy) voted on and decided was part of God's perks package of fringe benefits that came from the job of Pope that they as the holy personell department were able to award without consulting He Who Is, because He would have wanted it that way. SO anyway, I WANT A FEEDING TUBE.....Can you put a pureeed Big Mac in that with a supersized fries?

As for a respirator, taking a cue from Dad. I want one. Infact, I have two lungs, I want 2 of them.

See, people today have the wrong attitude toward death with dignity. What could be more dignified, especially in America than being a materialistic consumer?

I want my best friend that takes care of me to live off my disability for the rest of my unatural and burdensome life.

I want the little Korean imigrant nurse's aide that is tremendously underpaid for wiping my ungrateful if not comatose ass to have job security.

I want the drug companies to get richer by being able to shove ground drugs into my feeding tube and intervenous piping for decades to come, thereby makiung sure that drug reps and biochemists can have summer homes for years to come.

I want the federal government to give back my tax dollars that I have carefully paid into unemployement and Social Security in the hope that they would be mine forever.

I want to ensure that medical practice and experimentation can take place on my bloated not dead but not alive corpse for years to come ensuring that my physicians children can afford the orthodontics they so richly deserve to realize a career in the public eye on reality television.

I want to ensure that my friends have a place to come and meditate away from their families and someone to talk to that will listen and truly not repeat a word they say, and for that matter not give a shit what it is they are talking about.

I want to support the rubber companies that contribute to support stockings.

I want to pay the tution of the children of the Ultrasound techs that perform my blood clot vascular studies.

I want to pay for the hospital administrator's new Mercedes.

I want to pay the salary of the nurse that is more worried about her manicure and magazine that she would not have been able to buy if I wasn't a patient, than she is that my call bell is ringing.

I want to be part of the political fight for the stem research that will bring me back around into a fully functioning member of society, although by going through my list you can see how even people that would be comfortable housed next to the broccoli and carrots at the supermarket stimulate our economy.

I WANT HEROIC MEASURES. I WANT TO BE A VIBRANT MEMBER OF THE ECONOMY. Even if it is to only purchase the casket starter set satin pillow or the decorator crucifix with the light up Jesus, I want to be a consumer and LIVE......in anyway possible.

And did I mention that I look dreamy in a backless patient gown?

Have you met my new boyfriend yet?

Well, neither have I, so if you do run into him, please introduce us.

In 1979 I had an unrequited love interest. The universe revolved around this guy. And so the story goes downhill from there. Shortening things up, I eventually introduced him to the girl he married and she forbade him from seeing me anymore eventhough he was helplessly straight and nothing would change that, (at least until she wanted a divorce and felt he needed the support of friends. Some girls can be considerate like that.) But that is a different story for another time.

So that left me with a vacancy in my life, and I met a marathon runner. He was hot. SIZZLE. If not a little bit short. SIZZLE. With Long straight blondish brown hair. SIZZLE. And china blue eyes. SIZZLE. And a very nice..........well, I am getting a bit flushed. He had maybe 2 percent body fat. He ran New York. He ran Boston. He wanted to try out for the 1984 Olympics. That is until he lost his job.

I helped him find a better one. He lost that one. I helped him find a better one. He lost that one. I helped him find a better one. He lost that one.

And there the employment history stopped as he never tried to get a job again since.

These were good jobs. They made 50k a year when 50k was good money.

I call him an ex-boyfriend although he was never very good at it. Sex was extremely dull and very one sided. He was too busy getting arrested at the time, for being an exhibitionist of all things. I have a theory about why that was happening. Seems that when he was born, the sixth boy of what eventually would become seven sons, his mother used to dress him up as a little girl and treat him as her cute little daughter.

And to think this bitch used to blame me for messing up her son. Ha ha. If she didn't have him hiding his penis as a child he wouldn't have spent his adult life trying to show the world that he had one. Now would he?

In jail he would dance naked for cigarettes. I don't know why he would do this. He did not smoke. I also think that the other guys would not particularly want to see him dance naked. But I guess the customs in jail are from a foreign land I would not like to visit. That's funny. Jimmy never used to dance naked at home.

Knowing that hanging around with him would be a downward spiral--he threatened to burn my boss's house down over a drug dispute with one of her students for example-- we had an off and on relationship. We vacationed together 4 times, one of which he convinced me to help him steal a kayak from a summer camp and tie it to the roof of his hotter than hot navy blue Camero. And of course there was a favorite vacation past time of his....when we were out of town he would like to find a bridge that a girl was going to walk over....this involved casing the neighborhood and using his marathon running skills to get to the bridge while parking a distance away......where he would run under the bridge and spank the monkey making enough noise for the girl to look over the side and see him in self flagellation.

This too was unfullfilling for me. I can't imagine why. So I began to cut him loose. I also began to see his name in the paper for winning more running trophies. And to see more and more, his name in the paper for more arrests for lewd conduct.

One arrest got me almost fired from my first out of college job with a large insurance firm as I had to leave to "bail my cousin out of jail". That night we had less than underwhelming sex, and the next day he was wanking in a carwash and narrowly escaped having a captive audience to entertain once more. So I cut him even more loose.

Next thing I know I get a late night phone call extolling the virtue of the wonderful vacation in Florida I helped him steal.

Well, perhaps steal is not the best word, perhaps win with a lot of inside help is a better term.
And then he breaks into this Mafia inspired hitman story. And so on goes life.

My father stops speaking to me because unlike my blog, my diary at home was far from anonymous and he finds it as the world's worst boyfriend and I are camping on the beach during the world's worst vacation, which results in dear old day drinking a bottle of Seagram's Seven and not speaking a word to me for more than an entire year although we live under the same roof. And results in me burning a seven volume set of diaries filled with years of poetry and observations that can never be replaced in my fireplace. And so life goes on further.

And I get a late nite phone call describing the death of a friend of the world's worst boyfriend in a house fire with some details that are just a bit too precise. And I get a little bit scared. But not so scared as to not have him over to my new house-- although I meet him in a parking lot 2 miles from my home and insist on him wearing a blindfold for the ride back to my house. He is wearing his crotchless jeans shorts and again the sex is far from good, and I wonder what is the addiction here, the bad sex or the bad boy? So this has gone on off and on for 14 years. And enough is enough.

And I cut him loose forever to find out a few years later that he has ended up in state prison for intimidating a witness, shooting at his next door neighbor that got mad that he ogled said neighbor's little daughter, and the entire county thinks he has murdered his third cousin over possession of a marijuana field.

So thinking him involved in one semi definite murder and two most possible murders, having several indecent exposure and open lewdness charges under his belt, and having been imprisoned for intimidating a witness out weighs any desire that marathon running and bad sex foments, I cut him loose for good and forever.

Then a letter arrives with a scribbled address somewhat close to what mine really is. I throw it in the garbage and reminisce about some of our more flirtatious moments and scream out........WHAT WAS I THINKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now 10 more years has passed and in my employment I enter a state hospital for the insane, where I see a lone man pacing the end of the hallway back and forth. It is a hallway I have to traverse. At the end of it, the clean shaven and somewhat stockier than 2 percent body fat mousy looking gentleman in the wintercoat on this warm spring day, locked inside from the public for hopefully ever, turns to me and says.........

"MACK! They have me in the Nuthouse"

To which I reply without really thinking but sarcastically flippant and rather cheerily........"Well...Good for you!", with a big warm smile on my face, as though having finally found his niche in life is a good thing.

I keep walking.

allegedly criminal, truthfully hottie

Here are some links to pics of one of the hottest criminals of our time. Bad Boy Hugo Selenski. My friends that have met him say he is charming, cute, and very polite. One said that when talking to Hugo it is best to try and remember that he is not in Jail for allegedly stealing girlscout cookies, he is in there for allegedly committing murder. But I am sure whatever he did he was cute while doing it. If anyone else has any links to picks of Hugo, please post them in the comments. I get the feeling that although hot, he is not the sharpest tool in the shed. I was told that in a previous crime he tried to put dye marked money through a washing machine to make it useable. Hence a new spin to the term "money laundering". Ha ha. Although in Jail, Hugo keeps fit by rappelling down 7 story building walls on ropes made of bedsheets. Guilty or not is not the question here. Should he be on Hot or Not is the question. mmmm now there is some good eatin. ha ha.


http://www.cnn.com/2003/US/Northeast/10/13/jail.escape.ap/

http://www.cnn.com/2004/US/Northeast/02/10/bodies.unearthed.ap/

In the time it takes to read today's topic, even you can

Become a minister. I did. So did my friends. Aggravate the piss out of the God fearing right wing. Become a minister today! Show the world God loves you in any way you feel is appropriate. I imagine that means you can even be a ministerial atheist, if there is such a thing, or make it up if you want to. The Universal Life Church is ready to ordain you, maintain the record of your ordination and generate the nicest printable certificate showing the authenticity of your ordination. http://www.ulc.org/ I had to go out and buy a frame for my certificate it is that nice. And it is all free. And you only need believe two things to fit in with their dogma.....1) That you promote freedom of religion and that you 2) Do which is right. Nice eh? Over 20 million ordained since 1959, and 400,000 since 1995! Be able to do what ministers do everywhere, (No, not just sleep with altar boys, cavort with bimbos, extoll the virtues of throwing the first stone, collect money from the congregation to air condition your dog's houses or build a biblical amusement park,ha ha) but with all the rights and privileges accorded a minister, comfort the needy and the infirm, attend to your flock in the un hypocritical way you think it should be done.... Never mind same sex marriages, I want to officiate over civil unions between people and upholstered items. I now pronouce you man and ottoman. Take your religion into your own hands! Park your car in places marked...clergy. What a country! God Bless America!

Here's a new update for you guys!!!!!!!!!

Kenny Chesney and Renee Zellwigger's marriage ceremony was performed by a minister of the Universal Life Church.

Soap boxes can be your friend!

When no one else listens or cares, that soapbox that is a blog, can be your friend. Today I have a few choice complaints that I am sure all of you can empathize with.

Who hates their cell phone provider? Just like on that frickin stupid gum commercial I can hear your little voices yelling....."I DO! I DO!"

And well you should. Especially if like me, you have Nextel. Or think you do. I thought I had Nextel. No, turns out I have the next worst thing.....NEXTEL PARTNERS. Hardly Nextel, hardly helpful, hardly worth having. Nextel Partners is division of Nextel and it is easy to see why it is divisive. NEXTEL seems almost ashamed of the association. Nextel has no computer access to Nextel Partners customer files, but they lead you to believe it is the same company.

I have several reasons for hating Nextel and I begin with being able to hate them for the next two years, the duration of my contract. Indentured servants, earning their Trans-Atlantic Passage by wiping asses and putting up with rich folks shit had it better off than those that live with predatory 2 year contracts to cell phone companies. I had the choice of a phenomonally high deposit and a one year contract, or giving up my first born and a two year contract. I opted for the easier to swallow.

My second reason for hating Nextel and most ultimately Nextel Partners is that Northwest Airlines offers up to 10,000 airmiles for purchasing a phone and service contract through Nextel. It is in all the Northwest brochures. Someone should tell all the genius commissioned sales people that work in Nextel stores of this perk because if it is not given to you upon purchase it is impossible to redeem later, or so it seems. And since the sales staff does not admit to knowing about this giveaway, they don't give it away. Nextel cannot help you because in Northeast PA, we deal with Nextel Partners and they are not really Nextel, just an unreasonable facsimile. To call Northwest and complain gets you a phone number to Nextel to call and complain which gets you a phone number to Nextel Partners to call and complain which gets you a phone number to Northwest, and so on, in one large self consuming circle, like domestic goldfish breeding only to eat their young. Round and around the tigers run until they turn into Sambo's butter, but with a less satisfactory ending to the story. So here I am with a Northwest account and no airmiles, and a Nextel phone which awards airmiles, but neglects to hand them out. It is the American way.

Which leads me to my third and final gripe, the handy dandy helpful invention of "NEXTEL SPENDING LIMITS" This is a $9.99 fee they attatch to your bill due to your credit rating for the privilege of limiting how high Nextel will allow your bill to get before they automatically transfer all of your outgoing calls to a Nextel Operator to arrange payment. Putting it simply, Nextel tells you that you have a spending limit of say $182.39 (seems as though they spin the arbitrary money wheel to arrrive at their figure) at which point all your outgoing calls are routed for your convenience in bill paying to their billing department. And for this they charge you. And the special beauty of this plan is.................Are you ready...................Take a breath, this is good.............There is no way to get removed from spending limits. If you improve your credit rating to the best it can get, you cannot be removed from "Spending Limits". If you pay your bill on time for your entire contract, you cannot be removed from "Spending Limits". So, there is virtually no way to remove this charge from your Nextel Bill for your duration of your account with Nextel. Nextel is happily collecting 10 of your hard earned dollars for being able to put a cap on how much you can spend. Per month. Forever.

And now that I have had my gripe I feel oh so much better. I hope you do too. Smile and get the vaseline! Imagine all the fun the Nextel Sprint merger will add to this package!!!!!!!!!! Ah the possibilities.

WOO HOO! It's Friday the 13th. Isn't that great!

Another Friday the thirteenth has rolled around! Isn't that great! Friday the thirteenth is a day that is traditionally lucky for me. I was called Anthony Adverse when I was a child. Ha ha. It seems that I had oppositional disorder for quite some time. So anyway instead of trisdecaphobia, I welcome Friday the 13ths with open arms...except for the movies. After a while they all blur together. It was cool to see Bess Myerson beheaded. No one today even knows who Bess Myerson is. It was cool to see a very young Kevin Bacon's abdomen violated from underneath the bed with an arrow while he is regrouping from doing the wild thing and of course it has given a whole new meaning to hockey masks, but other than that, as I said, they all just blurr together, as movies that is.

The actual Friday the 13th had even more significance as I grew older. It seems at one time in my life I was involved with an irreverent Post Industrial band named PsychoNurse. Some of it's bigger claims to fame were that it played more times at CBGB's than it practiced. It had a song in the top ten in Poland. And one of the members of Metallica mentioned on MTV that PsychoNurse was his favorite band. They were VERY ahead of their time and today would have been a commercial success instead of being the pavestone to the present that they were back then. But I digress.....Roxanne, Head Nurse and prime motivating factor for the band was quite fond of having Friday the 13th parties. They were nothing short of phenomenal and one was someone if they were invited to attend. There were many a Friday the 13th gone by that I have no recollection of, but know I had an ungodly good time as well as awakened with BRAIN ROT, which incidentally was the name of the song the nurses opened every show with. They did appear with Morton Downey Jr once on his show with the loud mouth. He was the pavestone from which Jerry Springer, Oprah, and Jenny Jones became the beaten path. I will devote a whole seperate post to Psychonurse someday and detail them in the horror they deserve, but as for today I am off to swill some frothing slosh in the name of their supershocking memory.

Cheers! Oh and....Bottoms up! Ha ha ha.

You gotta love modern life

You just gotta. As I mentioned I have some ads running on the web looking for love of the cheap 20 minute equivalent there of. Well, today as I was going over my ages old unopened email I went to several of these matchmakers letters where they provide you the service of sending matchs that meet your criteria and your profile and they profess to send you perfect matchs with the probablity that their choices will be THE ONE FOR YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They sent me my lists. Both yahoo personals and www.date.com have sent me my own ad as my perfect match this month. WooHoo!!!!!!!! I can hardly wait to call me. Where will I take me? Do I want to go to the movies? I guess I should know that shouldn't I?

I wonder why I don't have a real boyfriend

I am loving, caring and funny. Why don't I have a real boyfriend? Are my standards too high and exacting. They are very stringent. I look for very specific things in a guy and if they are not there I just don't give them the time of day. Perhaps I need to re-evaluate my requirements. They are: 1) They must have a penis. 2) They must be breathing. Perhaps that breathing part is being a bit too picky.

I had a fling last month. It was April 5th to be exact. He was hellofa cute. He was a former highschool and college athlete. He was Mr. Right Now and not Mr. Right. At least from his point of view. We met through a web ad. He answered mine. If he wasn't happy with what he was doing you would think that during the 4 hours of seemingly unending torture and 3 wall painting ejaculations he would have found some time to say, "I am not enjoying myself, take me home.". But NO! Now the funniest thing is his entire ad disappeared the next day. I could see just avoiding my emails in the future, but the whole ad...GONE? There was no need to avoid my phone calls, cuz who has time to moan out a phone number when you are fingering thier neither region like a bowling ball at their request, but, dissappearing from the web completely? I could not manage to cancel web ads I have running from over 12 years ago, they are still there, and this one disappears overnite. Once again I have discovered a deterrant to homosexual desire. ME. Maybe it was the 26 year age difference. But what is age anyway. The only real way to tell is cut 'em in half and count the rings. Or ask for their AARP card.

So anyway I am beginning a makeover project. Maybe it is the fact that I weigh 10 percent of 5000 pounds that limits my LTR potential. Ya think?

Although I have found that I am an incredible commodity in some circles at this huge weight of SUPERCHUB status. There is an entire segment of the gay pop that finds whale riding to be THE SPORT OF QUEENS. Check www.biggercity.com or www.gainerweb.com for bloated details. Now that I am going to do some radical body changes, I find my old body is quite in demand. There is no shortage of Captain Ahabs that want to harpoon Moby Dick on these sites. Biggercity has been a fountain of email from admirers for me. Some of them seem pretty dumb though, because when you are specifically looking for chasers in NORTHEAST PA, and your replies come from Switzerland, Guam and Texas, it makes you question the intelligence quotient of the human race and how it must be severely downspiralling.

So anyway I hook up with one guy who's name I will change to Steve, to protect the innocents he might be hurting by cheating on them, and we have a gay old time. We agree to see each other now and then. As it turns out it is mostly then. If you fuck around 3 times over the span of 2 years, have you had three dates????? or like one of my more psycho acquaintances think, have you been dating for 2 years?

And I meet another very interesting character. He is hot. Hung like a horse. Muscular. Has a hot voice.....and wants to call me for phone sex. A LOT. But his idea of phone sex is humping his mattress while I give him details of my dinner menu at the chinese buffet. Somehow this is less than fullfilling for me. Dunno why. I guess it takes all kinds of critters to make Farmer Brown's Fritters doesn't it?

And the beat goes on.

A gray hair

I found my first gray hair on my head today. Although it hurt when I pulled it out by the root, I am convinced that it must be someone elses, I am far too young and beautiful to have manifested a gray hair. Other people do that. I have thick full hair that changes colors with the seasons sometimes, Red in the fall, sometimes, blond to white in the summer and dark and dirty blond most of the time. But on occasion (presidents day, eva perons birthday, or other momentous occasions) it is black. Which reminds me that most rappers are black. Which leads me to my blog name, Mack Chill Jet. That is my rapper name. Not that I am a rapper, or black for that matter, but it would be what my name was if I was a rapper. How did I come up with Mack Chill Jet? Why I plugged my real name into an anagram generator. http://www.wordsmith.org/anagram/ it is funny the things that you come up with. Try your name or the company you work for or your bosses name. Talk about the zen-like insight you get out of the results. So if you have too much time on your hands and you wanna have some cheap laffs, give it a shot. It's the almost the most fun you can have without lube.

Trolling for Trouser Trout takes off!

Well, after agonizing over the incredibly difficult task of thinking of a name for my blog, I have finally found something that espouses my theme. Trolling for Trouser Trout. In a general way it expresses the major activity of my life. Looking for love, looking for Mr. Right, and Looking for Mr. Right now, and all of the adventures and pursuits I have in life while searching out this goal. You will find my personal musings, points of view and anecdotal (and sometimes very dark) humor. I am ageless. My name is mankind. I laugh at myself cry when I am down and bitch about a lot of things but generally am pretty happy with my life, the cast of characters in it and the state of my personal world. Although I think that the state of the impersonal world around me is very quickly on a oneway swirl down the porcelain bowl of existence, I think I have it almost okay. On the large scale I don't have much to complain about, like a supermodel with a chipped nail, or a Sri lankan without a meal, I do have my gripes. You will come to know and love all of them.