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		<title><![CDATA[The Demon's Den - Blogs - Pete Bondurant]]></title>
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			<title><![CDATA[The Demon's Den - Blogs - Pete Bondurant]]></title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/blog.php?460-Pete-Bondurant</link>
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			<title>The World Turned Upside Down</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?1343-The-World-Turned-Upside-Down</link>
			<pubDate>Sun, 03 Jul 2011 18:03:04 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PUgU8w8j6qY&feature=related 
 
* 
During the Seven Years War, Britain defeated the French and their Indian allies and...]]></description>
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<br />
<br />
<font color="#006400"><b><br />
During the Seven Years War, Britain defeated the French and their Indian allies and foolishly expected the Colonials to bear at least some of the burden of the cost of their own defense, as well as the expense of governing said colonies...rather than having that burden extended to Britain at large.<br />
<br />
Passage of bills of revenue by Parliament, when met with hysterical opposition from vituperative radicals, would quickly be repealed in order to appease the colonials as an indulgent parent would please a spoiled child.....but, as any parent knows, such indulgences only result in increased disobedience on the part of the wayward child. <br />
<br />
In the so-called Boston &quot;Massacre&quot; of 1770, a violent, drunken mob incited by the terrorist Samuel Adams did provoke British soldiers with acts of violence causing these soldiers to fear for their own safety. The inevitible bloodshed that followed as these soldiers defended their very lives from the above mentioned mob was twisted by rebel propagandists into an holy act of sacrifice....the fallen criminals being undeservedly cast as martyrs....the soldiers put on trial.<br />
<br />
The Boston &quot;Tea Party&quot; was nothing more than the theft and destruction of private property, which eliminated business competitors of the rebel merchant John Hancock.<br />
<br />
Acts of wanton vandalism, theft and, or destruction of Crown property as well as the property of those loyal subjects of HIS MAJESTY!......commited by certain vile, lecherous ruffians, often intoxicated...did betray the SOVEREIGN KING AND THE WILL OF GOD!.......kidnapping of officials and loyalist citisens....murder of British soldiers and officers......an endless litany of abuses and degradations so numerous that the constraints of time and space prevent mention of them herein. The celebration of such an outrageous calumny against humanity and decency is grotesque.<br />
<br />
GOD SAVE THE KING, YOU DAMNED YANKEE BASTARDS! <br />
<br />
As you devour your grilled processed meat products...think of the valiant soldiers of THE EMPIRE who sacrificed their own lives in a vain attempt to maintain civilisation in America</b></font></blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
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			<title>What exactly is a Rhodie?</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?1335-What-exactly-is-a-Rhodie</link>
			<pubDate>Sat, 18 Jun 2011 23:05:02 GMT</pubDate>
			<description>http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Rhodie 
 
 
---Quote--- 
* 
1. a thick, uncouth, racist, ignoramus of Caucasian persuasion currently...</description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Rhodie" target="_blank">http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Rhodie</a><br />
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				<b><i><br />
1. a thick, uncouth, racist, ignoramus of Caucasian persuasion currently squatting on the LAND OF OUR FOREFATHERS &quot;ZIMBABWE&quot;<br />
<br />
2. a delusional, homeless, destitute caucasian wandering aimlessly lost in ZIMBABWE; disowned by its kith &amp; kin the British &amp; Dutch.<br />
<br />
3. a British or Dutch racist reject or genetic mutant, looked upon with scorn by it`s kith and kin in the homelands &amp; unwanted anywhere else.<br />
<br />
4. a verminous creature of no particular discription; occasionally referred to in Southern Africa as a land hungry parasite or vermin.<br />
<br />
5. a rabid racist, bred in Southern Africa in the last century. Extremely allergic to reason, truth &amp; justice.<br />
<br />
6. a sect, group, or faction holding or advocating NAZI beliefs, ideas, ideology<br />
<br />
7. evil goblins in children`s books/literature southern africa<br />
I heard a Rhodie shot a black man in broad daylight because he mistook him for a baboon. They just won't learn these rhodies will they?</i></b>
			
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</div><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rhodie" target="_blank">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rhodie</a><br />
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				<b><i>Rhodie<br />
<br />
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia<br />
<br />
Rhodie is a colloquial term. It is typically applied to a white Zimbabwean or expatriate Rhodesian.<br />
<br />
<br />
Origins of the term<br />
<br />
The term was first used by British army and civil service personnel in Rhodesia (the pre-independence name for Zimbabwe) during the period immediately before the country's independence :<br />
<br />
&quot;... the British squaddies look with faint contempt on the Rhodesians (or &quot;Rhodies&quot; as they sometimes call them; military slang mushrooms overnight).&quot; - Simon Hoggart, the Guardian, February 1980<br />
<br />
The term was initially applied to all white Rhodesians. After independence, the term began to be applied increasingly to those Rhodesians who were nostalgic for the past. The nostalgia a Rhodie feels relates particularly to the UDI era (1965 to 1979) during which time the country's white population, led by the government of Ian Smith, declared independence from Britain while denying political aspirations to the majority black population. The UDI regime in Rhodesia sought to perpetuate a semi-colonial system in which whites controlled the political system. The UDI project ended in a civil war fought between the white government and black insurgents.<br />
<br />
Current usage of the term<br />
<br />
Implications of racism and violence<br />
<br />
Usage of the term &quot;Rhodie&quot; changed further in post-independence Zimbabwe. It began to be applied to a white Zimbabwean of a particular kind. An image published in The Sunday Times in 1984 showed a poster in Harare reading &quot;no drugs, no rhodies, no racists, no troublemakers&quot;[3] This poster was displayed outside a club owned and operated by white Zimbabweans. A Rhodie is invariably a white (European ethnic origin) person and his/her characteristics are typically assumed to be :<br />
<br />
a belief in the superiority of whites over blacks<br />
a tendency to indulge in alcohol<br />
an inclination towards occasional violence <br />
<br />
&quot;Remaindered from the Rhodesian war, all they have now is their ghosts inadequately repressed by extreme religion, alcohol, purple pills or a penchant for tearing down bars. Don't believe these guys don't exist. Spot them at the end of a Harare Rhodie bar or even worse stumbling towards you across the terrace of a bush hotel ...&quot; The Guardian, September 2004<br />
<br />
Rhodie bar<br />
<br />
A &quot;Rhodie bar&quot; is an establishment frequented by Rhodies and is often decorated with memorabilia of the UDI era and the Rhodesian war. Such establishments (in pubs, restaurants and hotels) can be found in most Zimbabwean towns and there are several in South African towns (e.g., Cape Town) where concentrations of Rhodesian expatriates live. There is at least one claimed Rhodie bar in England.<br />
<br />
Implications of lower-class<br />
<br />
The term Rhodie can also carry social connotations. During the period after independence, about two thirds of Zimbabwe’s white population left the country. Those remaining tended to fall into two distinct categories. Firstly, there were individuals of high social status possessing professional skills and property which would enable them to survive in the new order. Secondly, there were individuals of low social status lacking the skills or qualities needed to emigrate. This last group were the main losers from independence and many of them became Rhodies.<br />
The term Rhodie is used throughout the English speaking world. It tends to be used in Commonwealth countries as the equivalent of the American term &quot;redneck&quot;. It is occasionally applied to a person with no Zimbabwean connections, carrying connotations of a conservative world view and boorish behaviour.<br />
<br />
Use as endearment<br />
<br />
Expatriate Rhodesians outside Zimbabwe often describe each other affectionately as Rhodies. These people do not generally exhibit the characteristics indicated above.<br />
<br />
Use as a nickname<br />
<br />
Short for the sir name Rhoden, Rhodes, and Rhode. Used as a term of endearment without racial implications.<br />
<br />
Contrary term &quot;Zimbo&quot;<br />
<br />
The term &quot;Zimbo&quot; is nowadays applied to a white Zimbabwean with a more racially equal outlook. A Rhodie will often describe a Zimbo as a “kaffir boetie” (black brother) because of the Zimbo view that blacks are equal to whites. The word &quot;kaffir&quot; is Arabic and means &quot;heathen&quot; or &quot;infidel/unbeliever&quot; and has been used by whites in Africa as an extremely derogatory slur to describe sub-Saharan Africans.</i></b>
			
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			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
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			<title>Another weekend.......I think............I am taking clozapine on a regular basis now</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?1285-Another-weekend-I-think-I-am-taking-clozapine-on-a-regular-basis-now</link>
			<pubDate>Mon, 23 Aug 2010 22:33:36 GMT</pubDate>
			<description>*Friday:   
 
What is happening at work?  Higher wheat prices boost corn demand....weekly Crop Progress Report  is largely positive.  Pita pocket...</description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="DarkGreen"><b>Friday:  <br />
<br />
What is happening at work?  Higher wheat prices boost corn demand....weekly <i>Crop Progress Report </i> is largely positive.  Pita pocket with hummus and cucumber for lunch.  I am wearing a grey check wool suit by <i>Armani</i>, grey striped dress shirt with a silver, diagonal striped tie by <i>Theory</i> and <i>Josef Siebel</i> oxfords.  Day was mostly uneventful with the exception of  a broker being terminated due to his lackluster performance and erratic behaviour.  I cannot remember his name.......I make a mental note to check if the Bersa in my desk drawer is loaded.  I have no memory of the ride home.....my mind is a complete blank.  I fall asleep on the sofa watching <i>The Kudlow Report</i>.  Dinner with The Woman at home...grilled eggplant and black beans.  Watch a French film, <i>Le Trou</i> after and then to bed.  There is no coitus.<br />
 <br />
Saturday: <br />
<br />
<br />
With The Woman to Bockwinkel's.  I purchased bottled water, toilet paper, tuna salad, lettuce, bread and some garden vegetable soup.  I cancelled a tennis match with this Slovakian guy I know from somewhere(?) because I just didn't feel like doing anything strenuous.  I feel depleted enough simply walking around the air-conditioned grocery store.  We have tuna salad and cantaloupe for lunch and she spends the rest of the afternoon reading while I watch a documentary about a talking squid running for Congress.  After a nap, I have to get ready for the evening and in the shower I notice that there  two spiders living on opposites sides of the ceiling above, where there had only been one before.<br />
 <br />
 <br />
Dinner at <i>Karyn's on Green</i>. I order a hummus and olive appetiser, broccoli soup, Caesar salad and the reproduction salmon for my entree...I have no idea what this so-called salmon is actually composed of.  The Woman is eating a pile of leaves with caterpillers crawling over them.....or perhaps I am hallucinating again.....(is it penne?) To <i>The Green Mill</i> after.......Frenchmen playing guitar jazz.....mellow and relaxing.  There is another couple with us, but I do not remember their names or what they look like.  I think the woman had short, dark hair, but that could have been the cocktail waitress.   As we walk outside later, I notice that the weather does not seem overly warm.....although I am convinced it is probably summer.  Everything seems to be moving in slow motion and I feel a strange sense of ambivalence towards........something?  Work?  The Woman?  The upcoming gubernatorial election?  The fall line-up on ABC?  My  cognitive dissonance is palpable and all I really want to do is fall asleep on the sofa watching the <i>Father Ted</i> DVDs I purchased several years ago.  I see a line of ants on the sidewalk...they're carrying pieces of discarded crackers back to their colony.  I carefully avoid stepping on them. <br />
<br />
Sunday:<br />
<br />
The Lord's Day and to church.  I'm wearing all black....suit, shirt and shoes.  I have on black aviator sunglasses by <i>Prada.</i>  The Woman is wearing a knit jacket with matching skirt.  It looks a bit like something Jaqueline Kennedy would wear and I have to admit that we look damn good together.  We sit next to Corning and his fiancee whose name I always forget. <br />
<br />
To home where I start to watch a tennis match between Roger Federer and some American fellow, but I lose interest and.................wind up taking a nap with <i>her.</i>  She fondles me and we start having sex, although with less violence than usual.  After, we finally fall asleep and I have a dream about Jackie Kennedy and Ava Gardner going down on each other in the White House rose garden while the President's cabinet cheers them on.   <br />
 <br />
The Woman has to go back to work tommorrow (Monday) which means she'll be spending more time at her place, and I wonder if the topic of us permanently cohabitating together will arise.  I have to admit, I will miss fucking her every day and I really do not want to prepare my own meals or shower by myself.  At the same time however, I will enjoy being alone more often because I can wear my SS uniform around the apartment.    <br />
 <br />
 <br />
</b></font></blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
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			<title>The world turned upside down</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?1271-The-world-turned-upside-down</link>
			<pubDate>Sun, 04 Jul 2010 14:38:44 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=drHLPZfXZwg&feature=related"]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=drHLPZfXZwg&feature=related[/ame] 
 
 
*During the...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore">[ame=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=drHLPZfXZwg&amp;feature=related&quot;]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=drHLPZfXZwg&amp;feature=related[/ame]<br />
<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>During the Seven Years War, Britain defeated the French and their Indian allies and foolishly expected the Colonials to bear at least some of the burden of the cost of their own defense, as well as the expense of governing said colonies...rather than having that burden extended to Britain at large.<br />
<br />
Passage of bills of revenue by Parliament, when met with hysterical opposition from vituperative radicals, would quickly be repealed in order to appease the colonials as an indulgent parent would please a spoiled child.....but, as any parent knows, such indulgences only result in increased disobedience on the part of the wayward child. <br />
<br />
In the so-called Boston &quot;Massacre&quot; of 1770, a violent, drunken mob incited by the terrorist Samuel Adams did provoke British soldiers with acts of violence causing these soldiers to fear for their own safety. The inevitible bloodshed that followed as these soldiers defended their very lives from the above mentioned mob was twisted by rebel propagandists into an holy act of sacrifice....the fallen criminals being undeservedly cast as martyrs....the soldiers put on trial.<br />
<br />
The Boston &quot;Tea Party&quot; was nothing more than the theft and destruction of private property, which eliminated business competitors of the rebel merchant John Hancock.<br />
<br />
Acts of wanton vandalism, theft and, or destruction of Crown property as well as the property of those loyal subjects of HIS MAJESTY!......commited by certain vile, lecherous ruffians, often intoxicated...did betray the SOVEREIGN KING AND THE WILL OF GOD!.......kidnapping of officials and loyalist citisens....murder of British soldiers and officers......an endless litany of abuses and degradations so numerous that the constraints of time and space prevent mention of them herein. The celebration of such an outrageous calumny against humanity and decency is grotesque.<br />
<br />
GOD SAVE THE KING, YOU DAMNED YANKEE BASTARDS! <br />
<br />
As you devour your grilled processed meat products...think of the valiant soldiers of THE EMPIRE who sacrificed their own lives in a vain attempt to maintain civilisation in America.</b></font><br />
<br />
<img src="http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~arcrawfo/images/british-grenadier.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
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			<title>Vacation</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?1246-Vacation</link>
			<pubDate>Fri, 04 Jun 2010 20:23:57 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[*For the rest of the month of June, and probably a bit longer....I'm not sure.....I will be on an extended vacation.  So....you...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="DarkGreen"><b>For the rest of the month of June, and probably a bit longer....I'm not sure.....I will be on an extended vacation.  So....you know...don't....uh....kill yourself or anything if I'm not around for a while.  </b></font></blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?1246-Vacation</guid>
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			<title>Friday....Saturday....bla h....blah...blah...</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?1224-Friday-Saturday-bla-h-blah-blah</link>
			<pubDate>Sun, 23 May 2010 22:39:09 GMT</pubDate>
			<description>* 
 
 
Friday: 
 
 
    I am sitting in the meeting room this morning waiting for a scheduled presentation about seasonal price patterns....historic...</description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="DarkGreen"><b><br />
<br />
<br />
Friday:<br />
<br />
<br />
    I am sitting in the meeting room this morning waiting for a scheduled presentation about seasonal price patterns....historic highs in beef prices....monthly slaughter numbers <i>stuff</i>.....Something, I don't really care anything about.  I must be fairly early as there is only one other person there, Arne Heino, who is fucking <i>Finnish</i>.  Arne is wearing a two-button, dark olive coloured, linen suit with a blue, print tie and brown oxford shoes.  He is reading a copy of the <i>Wall Street Journal</i> and chewing some gum.  I am drinking an Orange-Strawberry flavoured Gatorade and reading a very interesting article on the 2008 Porsche 911 GT2 in an old issue of <i>Car and Driver Magazine</i>.  The article explains that the new GT2 makes the 911 Turbo seem &quot;demure.&quot;  The power increase is due to the GT2's bigger turbos, higher boost, and a new expansion-type intake manifold, using oscillating air to cool the fuel-air mix.   As I am lost in the article, I do not notice that the boss  has entered the room, and may, in fact, have been there for some time.  For some reason he asks me how my golf game is.  I am suddenly very confused and am unable to formulate a coherent thought.  I stare blankly at a fake tree, covered in dust in one corner, when I notice several copies of <i>Golf Digest</i> scattered around the table.  I look up at him very intently, smile and say, without a seconds thought or hesitation: &quot;Dave, the only thing that I hate more than golf, is rap music.&quot;  <i>Dave</i> looks at me like I just raped his dog in front of the grand-children.  I realise that I am nodding and smiling.  <i>Dave</i>...(I don't even think the president calls him Dave, or if that is even his name, although I am pretty sure it is.) smiles mumbles some sort of nervous pleasantry and greets Kay Prebble, who probably has the morning livestock report.  I continue drinking my Gatorade.  The Car and Driver article mentions that the muffler and tailpipes of the 911 GT2 are titanium.  The GT2 will cost over $219,000 in Europe, <i>before</i> taxes.  I am wearing a two-button navy wool suit by Burberry with a handwoven blue, striped Italian silk tie also by Burberry.  I have a white, herringbone Canali shirt and black calf-leather shoes by Bally.  As soon as the meeting begins, I realise that I have to urinate very badly. <br />
 <br />
Wholesale-beef prices are way up this year, due to higher demand and shrinking herds.  My August live contracts are up to $.90 a pound.  As interesting as this may be, I am still focused on last night's episode of <i>Inside Edition</i> concerning the reunion of a man and his pet gorilla after a five year seperation.  &quot;<i>The two stared lovingly into each other's eyes and even chewed on a leaf together.&quot;</i>   I am absolutely certain that this is an entirely different gorilla, or quite possibly some local kid plucked from the streets of Libreville.<br />
 <br />
After work to Gibs. The same old crew....Corning, Egizi, Hutch etc....    I have a club soda.  I want a glass of <i>Cragganmore</i>.  Aside from business, there is the endless, boring discussion of baseball, which is a sport, so-called, that I could never understand the attraction of.  These people get into arguments over this mind-numbingly boring game...sometimes these arguments escalate into actual violence, which invariably contains more activity than the fucking game they are fighting over.  The worst part of all of this is...the obsession these people have for the Cubs.  The Chicago Cubs.  I've been to Wrigley Field several times and.... it is a cesspool.  This team loses every fucking year and they will continue to lose every fucking year.  Half of the team are probably illegal aliens anyway.  When my colleagues begin to discuss baseball....I disappear.  Usually, they don't notice that I am gone, which is fine with me, because I do not really like any of them anyway.<br />
 <br />
I try to work some of my rage off at the gym, but I am unsuccessful and so...head home.  <i>The News Hour</i> on PBS is all about the oil slick in the Gulf of Mexico, and I have to be honest....I find myself sort of rooting for this oil slick.  He seems rather a misunderstood fellow.  I can empathise with that.  <br />
<br />
Later that evening:<br />
 <br />
Dinner with The Woman and another couple at a Moroccan restaurant.  I order a baked salmon with saffron sauce.  The Woman has some lamb shank dish.  I really want some lamb.  Watching her eating it makes me hate her a little bit.  The couple we're dining with.....blah...blah...I don't know them.  I do not really want to know them.  I think I actually hate them.  I do not remember their names.  A scene from <i>The Godfather</i> keeps running through my mind....the scene where Michael shoots McClusky and Sollozzo in the restaurant.  If anyone brings up baseball....I will murder someone.  I hate baseball.  Although I do rather like baseball bats.  I wish I had one at this very moment.  I really wish this.  Louisville Slugger.....blam...blam...blam...lamb shanks, tagines, couscous, blood, brain matter....flowing together in a violent swirl....a feast of....death.....<i>Moroccan GORE-MET</i>!<br />
 <br />
After dinner we go to a blues club.....it seems like the place should be filled with smoke, but smoking indoors has been banned in the State of Illinois.  There is something very wrong about a non-smoke filled blues joint.  The music is very loud, so I have ear-plugs and that coupled with the Broletto suit I am wearing makes me feel very out of place.  I notice quite a few girls who would be considered pretty, but for the tattoos all over their arms, necks, shoulders and legs.  The barman has a metal bar in his nose.  I am convinced that these people have probably infected one another with syphilis.  I cannot take too much more of this.......<br />
<br />
<br />
The Woman and I go home and have sex, but I feel absolutely nothing.  Once The Woman falls asleep, I turn the air-conditioning on and watch the Spanish Grand Prix that I recorded a couple of weeks before. <br />
 <br />
Saturday:<br />
<br />
I play tennis with someone....I can't remember who.  I think he was from Slovenia.  He beat me rather handily...and this does not seem to upset me at all.  I have lost my edge.  I have become complacent.  <br />
<br />
I watch <i>Lawrence Welk</i> on PBS while The Woman is working on some sort of project.  Later we will watch several episodes from <i>The Wire</i>, which is probably the best programme I have ever seen.  It has to be good if I am rooting for a gay, black, drug dealer.  After this we go to bed.  The sex is somewhat better than last evening, but I have to imagine that she is the redhead I saw singing <i>Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy</i> on <i>The Lawrence Welk Show.</i>  <br />
<br />
</b></font></blockquote>

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			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?1224-Friday-Saturday-bla-h-blah-blah</guid>
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			<title><![CDATA[I've done this before, but added nine more.]]></title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?1138-I-ve-done-this-before-but-added-nine-more</link>
			<pubDate>Thu, 18 Mar 2010 22:19:14 GMT</pubDate>
			<description>*1.  My mother disappeared when I was twelve. 
 
2.  My father was an army officer. 
 
3.  I was a bully at school. 
 
4.  I have lived in three...</description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="DarkGreen"><b>1.  My mother disappeared when I was twelve.<br />
<br />
2.  My father was an army officer.<br />
<br />
3.  I was a bully at school.<br />
<br />
4.  I have lived in three different countries.<br />
<br />
5.  I have been shot at.<br />
<br />
6.  I have shot at other people.<br />
<br />
7.  I once ate a rat.<br />
<br />
8.  I occasionally suffer from severe migraine head-aches.<br />
<br />
9.  My grand-father was killed after being thrown from a horse.<br />
<br />
10.  I dated a ballerina.<br />
<br />
11.  I hate champagne.<br />
<br />
12.  I have a bust of Mussolini on my desk at work, but no one has taken notice of it.<br />
<br />
13.  I hate driving in parking lots.<br />
<br />
14.  My favourite film is Gunga Din.<br />
<br />
15.  I cannot sleep without an electric fan in the room.<br />
<br />
16.  I still have my teddy bear.<br />
<br />
17.  I do not have a best friend.<br />
<br />
18.  I took violin and piano lessons when I was a boy.<br />
<br />
19.  I am an avid tennis player.<br />
<br />
20.  My ethnic origin is  Vlaams (Flemish), English and Scottish/Scots - whatever.<br />
<br />
21.  I loathe poetry.<br />
<br />
22.  I enjoy classical music, opera, jazz, standards and yes.....show tunes.<br />
<br />
23.  I am obsessed with Colonel Mustard and fear him.<br />
<br />
24.  My girlfriend is a teacher.<br />
<br />
25.  I have blue eyes and light-brown hair, but it is starting to turn grey.   </b></font></blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?1138-I-ve-done-this-before-but-added-nine-more</guid>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Fucking questions..........</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?1116-Fucking-questions</link>
			<pubDate>Tue, 09 Mar 2010 22:01:02 GMT</pubDate>
			<description>1. What time did you get up this morning? 
 
4:30 a.m. CST 
 
2. How do you like your steak? 
 
I used to prefer them rare, now I am forced to have...</description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore">1. What time did you get up this morning?<br />
<br />
4:30 a.m. CST<br />
<br />
2. How do you like your steak?<br />
<br />
I used to prefer them rare, now I am forced to have them prepared WELL DONE<br />
<br />
3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema?<br />
<br />
INVICTUS<br />
<br />
4. What is your favorite TV show?<br />
<br />
The first season of THE WIRE....blew me away.<br />
<br />
5. If you could live anywhere in the world where would it be?<br />
<br />
Rhodesia<br />
<br />
6. What did you have for breakfast?<br />
<br />
Banana/bran-muffin/herbal tea<br />
<br />
7. What is your favorite cuisine?<br />
<br />
I would have to say that I have always enjoyed Italian...now I eat steamed vegetables, beans and rice.<br />
<br />
8. What foods do you dislike?<br />
<br />
steamed vegetables, beans and rice<br />
<br />
9. Favorite Place to Eat?<br />
<br />
Gibsons/Alinea - only been once/Sepia/mk/Mr. Beef<br />
<br />
10. Favorite dressing?<br />
<br />
cashmere?<br />
<br />
11.What kind of vehicle do you drive?<br />
<br />
Range Rover....I parked it somewhere, but I don't remember where.  I think it's grey. <br />
<br />
12. What are your favorite clothes?<br />
<br />
Hart Shaffner Marx....two-button suits<br />
<br />
13. Where would you visit if you had the chance?<br />
<br />
Japan<br />
<br />
14. Cup 1/2 empty or 1/2 full?<br />
<br />
It is overflowing....with....blood!<br />
<br />
15. Where would you want to retire?<br />
<br />
Melbourne, Australia<br />
<br />
16. Favorite time of day?<br />
<br />
Evening<br />
<br />
17. Where were you born?<br />
<br />
Bulawayo, Rhodesia<br />
<br />
18. What is your favorite sport to watch?<br />
<br />
RUGBY......<br />
<br />
19. Who do you think will not tag you back?<br />
<br />
I do not know what this means.<br />
<br />
20. Person you expect to tag you back first?<br />
<br />
:confused2:<br />
<br />
21. Who are you most curious about their responses to this?<br />
<br />
:wacko:<br />
<br />
22. Bird watcher?<br />
<br />
By BIRDS....do you mean women?<br />
<br />
23. Are you a morning person or a night person?<br />
<br />
NIGHT<br />
<br />
24. Do you have any pets?<br />
<br />
I had a gold-fish, but he abandoned me.  I think he may have taken a job offer from Cargill.<br />
<br />
25. Any new and exciting news you'd like to share?<br />
<br />
I think I actually love my girlfriend.<br />
<br />
26. What did you want to be when you were little?<br />
<br />
I wanted to be a soldier.<br />
<br />
27. What is your best childhood memory?<br />
<br />
Trips to the beach and playing with my dog, Fritzie.<br />
<br />
28. Are you a cat or dog person?<br />
<br />
DOG<br />
<br />
29. Are you married?<br />
<br />
No.<br />
<br />
30. Always wear your seat belt?<br />
<br />
Yes.<br />
<br />
31. Been in a car accident?<br />
<br />
Yes.  Several.  I hate cars.<br />
<br />
32. Any pet peeves?<br />
<br />
Hip-hop &quot;music&quot;<br />
<br />
33. Favorite Pizza Toppings<br />
<br />
mushrooms I suppose.....I can't eat the fucking meat anymore.<br />
<br />
34. Favorite Flower?<br />
<br />
I don't know....violets?  Can you eat flowers?  Venus fly trap....<br />
<br />
35. Favorite ice cream?<br />
<br />
I hate ice-cream.  It seems gay.<br />
<br />
36. Favorite fast food restaurant?<br />
<br />
Not Panda Express.......<br />
<br />
37. How many times did you fail your driver's test?<br />
<br />
I do not recall ever taking one.<br />
<br />
39. Which store would you choose to max out your credit card?<br />
<br />
Nordstrom......G.A.T. Guns?<br />
<br />
40. Do anything spontaneous lately?<br />
<br />
I kicked a parking metre.<br />
<br />
41. Like your job?<br />
<br />
Yes.<br />
<br />
42. Broccoli?<br />
<br />
I eat this stuff almost every fucking day.<br />
<br />
43. What was your favorite vacation?<br />
<br />
Kruger National Park with my dad when I was a lad.....<br />
<br />
44. Last person you went out to dinner with?<br />
<br />
Anne....<br />
<br />
45. What are you listening to right now?<br />
<br />
Jim Hutchinson is on the phone....kissing a client's ass.<br />
<br />
46. What is your favorite color?<br />
<br />
grey<br />
<br />
47. How many tattoos do you have?<br />
<br />
0<br />
<br />
48. How many are you tagging for this quiz?<br />
<br />
:confused2:<br />
<br />
49. What time did you finish this quiz?<br />
<br />
I haven't yet.<br />
<br />
50. Coffee Drinker?<br />
<br />
Coffee induces foul breath and stains the teeth.</blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?1116-Fucking-questions</guid>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Vegetarian lasagna...an osprey, Diana Ross and Huckleberry Hound</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?1101-Vegetarian-lasagna-an-osprey-Diana-Ross-and-Huckleberry-Hound</link>
			<pubDate>Mon, 01 Mar 2010 22:28:00 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[*I'm having dinner with my girlfriend and we are discussing plans for my upcoming birthday....I will be quite old.  I am eating a brinjal & lentil...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="DarkGreen"><b>I'm having dinner with my girlfriend and we are discussing plans for my upcoming birthday....I will be quite old.  I am eating a brinjal &amp; lentil salad and some lemon-garlic broccoli with carrots.  Anne is eating a vegetarian lasagna.  I am drinking mineral water...<i>Appolinaris</i>.  I prefer to drink Appolinaris because I read somewhere that the SS owned the brand during the Third Reich.  Anne has a glass of red wine.  She is wearing a beige, wool blend turtleneck sweater and a pair of blue-jeans.  I have on a light-grey, cashmere half-zip sweater and a pair of black,  terry pants.  A soothing guitar piece by <i>Isaac Albeniz</i> is playing on the light classical music channel.  Two scented candles are burning in Hurricane holders on the table.  The atmosphere is suspiciously calm.  I find this rather <i>unnerving</i>.   <br />
 <br />
Ann asks me what I would like for my birthday....I tell her I want an <i>Osprey</i>.<br />
 <br />
She says; &quot;You want a sea-bird for your birthday?&quot;<br />
 <br />
&quot;No.  I want a <i>V-22 Osprey Medium-Lift, Tilt-Rotor Aircraft.&quot;</i><br />
 <br />
&quot;And what would you do with a V-22 Osprey medium-lift, tilt-rotor aircraft, Peter?&quot;  Her voice is in monotone....non-committal.<br />
 <br />
&quot;I would....uh....I want to....uh....you know....terrorise people.        Oh, whatever, just give me a tie.   <i>Robert Talbott</i>....but nothing <i>paisley</i>.&quot;<br />
 <br />
She has a look of quiet triumph on her face and continues eating her meatless lasagna without further comment on the issue.<br />
 <br />
We spend much of Saturday evening watching various Winter Olympic events on television, including; the  four-man bobsled event wherein the U.S. team wins a Gold Medal.  After that we watch several episodes of my new favourite television comedy programme, <i>Modern Family</i>, which I DVR'd.  (Is that an appropriate verb?)  We also watch <i>Cougar Town</i> which isn't all that bad, but I am a bit disappointed that <i>Monica and Chandler</i> have apparently divorced.  After that we go to bed, but do not have sex, as she is tired and I am feeling rather weak.....disinterested.  I have a dream.  I am standing on a stage in a smoke filled night-club.  There are two black women on either side of me, both of them wearing silver sequined gowns.  I am also singing.  I am also black.  I am also a woman.  I am also wearing a silver, sequined gown and my hair is done up in a 1960's bee-hive style.  I am singing <i>Where Did Our Love Go?</i>     I am a <i>Supreme</i>.     I think I am.....<i>Diana Ross</i>.     I have on <i>lip-stick</i>.     Several of my colleagues from the office are sitting at a table near the stage....cheering me on...singing along....they know all of the words.     They look intoxicated and sexually aroused.     They are drinking, smoking cigars and laughing.    They are sweating profusely and I am starting to get worried, because I have to admit that I look good....for a black woman that is.  When I start to sing <i>Baby Love</i>....the guys abandon any pretense of self-control and storm the stage....coming for me.  They look hungry....crazed and I am forced to flee.  I awake in a state of panic.  I shake Anne out of her comfortable slumber  and tell her that we have to have sex right now.  She says something unintelligible and goes back to sleep.  I go into the living room and watch several <i>Huckleberry Hound</i> cartoons.  As I drift to sleep, Huckleberry is being chased by something similar to the <i>Jekyll and Hyde monster</i> only he is called  <i>Picadilly Dilly.</i></b></font></blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?1101-Vegetarian-lasagna-an-osprey-Diana-Ross-and-Huckleberry-Hound</guid>
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			<title>Monday, February 15, 2010</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?1088-Monday-February-15-2010</link>
			<pubDate>Tue, 16 Feb 2010 22:19:49 GMT</pubDate>
			<description>*I spent this morning eating Wheat Chex... without milk. Limited trading hours today...order entries and modifications until 10:30 CST. Bovespa...</description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="DarkGreen"><b>I spent this morning eating <i>Wheat Chex</i>... without milk. Limited trading hours today...order entries and modifications until 10:30 CST. <i>Bovespa</i> closed due to <i>Carnivale</i>. I'm thinking the stronger dollar index will drive down soybean prices. I had a long lunch at Atwood Cafe, with Ronald Logsdon, Ty Penning and Sean Egizi. I ordered the <i>seared walleye</i>. We considered going to see a movie, but we couldn't decide between the Sherlock Holmes film or the new Wolfman, so we just stayed in the restaurant and gossiped about people at work. Ty periodically went outside to smoke some cigarettes because it is against the law to smoke in the buildings in this city. I do not smoke, so I remain unaffected by this prohibition. We spend a good deal of time trying to guess the name of the <i>muzak</i> version of whatever song was playing in the restaurant at the time. There was an old woman at a table near ours who spent about an hour eating a small bowl of soup and I noticed she was slipping crackers into her handbag. I considered using my cellular telephone to inform law enforcement authorities of this heinous offense, but then an attractive brunette walked by and I decided to stare at her ass and calves instead. High heels....<i>very sexy.</i> Sean called a cab and we left at about 2:00 p.m. CST. I forget where we went after that....probably some bars or something. Have to be back at work at 1700 CST, but I cannot remember why. There is some sort of holiday, but I do not know what this is. <i>Hitler's</i> birthday isn't until April.</b></font></blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?1088-Monday-February-15-2010</guid>
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			<title>Friday, January 29th, 2010</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?1078-Friday-January-29th-2010</link>
			<pubDate>Sun, 07 Feb 2010 22:26:11 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[*The weather is bleak, the sky grey and unrelentingly depressing. It's  
Friday and I have tickets to the opera. 
 
 
   It is the season's final...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="DarkGreen"><b>The weather is bleak, the sky grey and unrelentingly depressing. It's <br />
Friday and I have tickets to the opera.<br />
<br />
<br />
   It is the season's final performance of <i>Tosca</i>, minus <i>Violeta Urmana</i> in the lead role, but I'm still fairly eager to see it.  I've been suffering a bout of panic attacks and migraine head-aches all week and I need a break.  Today at work, I spent an hour talking with Brian Halkyard about the weak <i>cattle inventory report</i> and the decrease in grain prices.  At one point during this conversation, I seriously considered removing the <i>Bersa .380</i> from my desk drawer and shooting Brian and then myself, putting both of us out of our misery....and I wondered....would the spider that lives in my shower miss me?  After work, a group of us went to <i>E&amp;C</i>, which is a corporate owned &quot;authentic&quot; British pub on Adams. I've stolen several coasters from this place and they're piled up on the snack bar that seperates the kitchen from the dining room in my apartment.  I have developed a habit of stealing coasters from bars and staple removers from the office.  I have a box in my bedroom closet that contains about three dozen staple removers.  I am pretty sure they are all brown.  I'm with Sean Egizi, Harrison Corning and David Pratt.  We were originally going to <i>Poag Mahone's</i>, but David isn't allowed there because he exposed himself to a waitress or maybe he fondled her, I can't remember.  Then we thought about <i>Exchequer</i>, but Corning objected to that for some reason, so E&amp;C was a compromise.  I really don't care because I'm only going to eat a salad anyway, even though I ate a small  falafel for lunch and I am very hungry.  There is a bracing wind  and we are eager to get inside.....anywhere.  The bar or pub, whatever...is fairly crowded with business people who have sour expressions reflecting the market's overall performance for the day.  We sit at a table opposite the bar and the waitress approaches, she is young with dyed black hair and a blank look on her face, although I notice she smiles at Corning. <br />
Sean Egizi orders a round of Guinness, <i>which I cannot drink and which he knows I cannot drink</i>, the prick.  Corning has some roast beef with his Guinness and David Pratt some sausages and potatoes.  I order a large Caesar salad and some water.  Sean drinks what would have been my Guinness with the Shepherd's Pie he ordered..   Corning recently became engaged to his long-time girlfriend, Marla and he's considering buying a place in the suburbs......the North Shore somewhere.....<i>Highland Park(?)</i>  I wonder to myself how long it will be before Corning is divorced and paying alimony and I decide that it will be about <i>five years.</i>   Sean asks me if I am using SMA's or EMA's for my DMA's, while David is going on about the <i>Mormons</i> predicting the end of the world in 2012.  At a table near ours, some <i>CFTC</i> fuckers are having drinks....<i>bottles of.....Miller Light</i>.  They're all fucking forty-five going on eighty and wearing suits from <i>JC Penneys.</i>  We give them a quick collective look of disgust which is more than they even deserve.  There is a soccer match on the television near ours although no one appears to be paying any attention to it.  <br />
<br />
<br />
     I take a cab home and before I hit the shower, watch several <i>Huckleberry Hound</i> cartoons that I recorded on my DVR.  I set off to meet my girlfriend, Anne and some friends at the Lyric Opera's restaurant, the name of which I cannot remember, arriving exactly on time. In the lobby, I see Anne, who is with Elspeth Shottenkirk and her boyfriend, whose name...I think, is <i>Seth</i>.  Anne is wearing a black mock two-piece chiffon gown, her hair, strawberry blonde, is worn up.  She has on a silver necklace with a small Celtic cross.    <br />
<br />
Elspeth is also wearing a black dress with a high neckline and sleeves....Seth, a  grey, wool v-neck sweater with a navy plaid shirt underneath and a navy tie. His jacket is also navy.<br />
<br />
I'm wearing a grey, mini-grid, two-button wool suit from Canali, verticle blue striped dress shirt and a navy, stripe-patterned silk tie.  I've met Seth before, but I completely forgot what he looked like and I am fairly certain I will forget this again.  He calls me Pete.  He's a couple of inches shorter than me and has wooly brown hair and sideburns that point almost violently toward the corners of his mouth like arrows directing something therein.  I wonder if Elspeth has had his penis in her mouth.  This image is stuck in my mind and I am having a difficult time restraining myself from laughing out loud and I am forced to excuse myself to the restroom, feigning a couging fit.<br />
<br />
  <br />
<br />
    I am  calm, for the most part, probably because I took some Ativan earlier and I am confident I can get through this dinner and probaby the entire evening without mentioning <i>Adolf Hitler</i> or using the <i>N word</i>.  Sitting several tables away, there is an anchor-woman that Harrison Corning and I double-teamed a few years ago.  She is sitting with a Congessman, but I didn't vote for him. <br />
<br />
  <br />
I order the sole.  Anne has the chicken pot-pie.  I drench my entree in lemon sauce and I still taste nothing.<br />
<br />
Elspeth and Seth each order the vegetarian entree, and I think that maybe she hasn't had his penis in her mouth.<br />
<br />
The conversation is in slow-motion.  Elspeth asks me how work is going and I tell her it's fine.  Boring.  Seth is in advertising or publishing.  He met Oprah Winfrey once and he seems proud of this so I mention that Mayor Daley flipped me off at <i>Gibsons</i>.  This elicits some laughter although I can tell he doesn't believe it's true.  He and Elspeth seem affectionate towards one another, which seems odd to me because I spent several years hanging out with Elspeth and we never even held hands.  I was never attracted to Elspeth, she was just someone I could attend various fine-arts venues with.  There was never any thought of pursuing her, and she was never involved with anyone during the time we socialised with one another.  I was always somewhat worried that she might fall in love with me, but now I realise that this was never possible, that she never felt any attraction towards me and I am angered by this realisation for some reason and I almost want to thrust my fork into her eye socket, but I don't.  The opera is enjoyable, but there is a different cast than the performance I saw last year.  My favourite character is the villain, Scarpia, who is some sort of Napoleonic Era Fascist.  Alas, he is murdered and I lose interest in much after this, except for the well known aria,  <i>E lucevan le stelle</i> in the third act . The performance ended, we meet for drinks at an &quot;authentic&quot; Irish pub on Clark Street where Elspeth and Seth drink Merlot, and Anne has a Newcastle.  I have soda water.  Jocko Rawlings is there with his mistress and some other people. He looks coked up and he has a cigar in his hand.  He is wearing a tuxedo with his tie undone....he might have been at the opera too but he doesn't mention this.  He grabs me in a bear-hug and greets everyone else as if they're rich, terminally ill relatives.  Jocko is <i>definitely</i> on coke.  He talks about work, He's worried about his deferred contracts.....He's telling his hedges to cover.  Some friends of Anne's are there and some people Elspeth knows from work and our group seperates.  J.R.  wants to smoke a cigar and I follow him outside, motioning  to Anne, who is conversing in French with Jeanne Melville, who showed up out of nowhere.  Anne gives me a wink and continues her conversation.  While I'm outside with J.R., Elspeth and Seth leave, saying good-bye.....I watch them get into a cab and as it pulls away a thought lingers...........<i>does Elspeth Shottenkirk swallow?  </i> </b></font></blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?1078-Friday-January-29th-2010</guid>
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			<title>Drunken, thieving...rebel bastards!</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?820-Drunken-thieving-rebel-bastards!</link>
			<pubDate>Sat, 04 Jul 2009 14:03:57 GMT</pubDate>
			<description>*During the Seven Years War, Britain defeated the French and their Indian allies and foolishly expected the Colonials to bear at least some of the...</description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="DarkGreen"><b>During the Seven Years War, Britain defeated the French and their Indian allies and foolishly expected the Colonials to bear at least some of the burden of their own defense, as well as the expense of governing said colonies...rather than having that burden extended to Britain at large.<br />
<br />
Passage of bills of revenue by Parliament, when met with hysterical opposition from vituperative radicals, would quickly be repealed in order to appease the colonies as an indulgent parent would please a spoiled child.....but, as any parent knows, such indulgences only result in increased disobedience on the part of the wayward child. <br />
<br />
In the so-called Boston &quot;Massacre&quot; of 1770, a violent, drunken mob incited by the terrorist Samuel Adams did provoke British soldiers with acts of violence causing these soldiers to fear for their own safety. The inevitible bloodshed that followed as these soldiers defended their very lives from the above mentioned mob was twisted by rebel propagandists into an holy act of sacrifice....the fallen criminals being undeservedly cast as martyrs....the soldiers put on trial.<br />
<br />
The Boston &quot;Tea Party&quot; was nothing more than the theft and destruction of private property, which eliminated business competitors of the rebel merchant John Hancock.<br />
<br />
Acts of wanton vandalism, theft and, or destruction of Crown property as well as the property of those loyal subjects of HIS MAJESTY!......commited by certain vile, lecherous ruffians, often intoxicated...did betray the SOVEREIGN KING AND THE WILL OF GOD!.......kidnapping of officials and loyalist citizens....murder of British soldiers and officers......an endless litany of abuses and degradations so numerous that the constraints of time and space prevent mention of them herein. The celebration of such an outrageous calumny against humanity and decency is grotesque.<br />
<br />
GOD SAVE THE KING, YOU DAMNED YANKEE BASTARDS! <br />
<br />
As you devour your grilled processed meat products...think of the valiant soldiers of THE EMPIRE who sacrificed their own lives in a vain attempt to maintain civilisation in America.</b></font><br />
<br />
<img src="http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~arcrawfo/images/british-grenadier.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?820-Drunken-thieving-rebel-bastards!</guid>
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			<title>There Will Be Blood And Flying Monkeys</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?771-There-Will-Be-Blood-And-Flying-Monkeys</link>
			<pubDate>Sat, 16 May 2009 18:07:41 GMT</pubDate>
			<description>*I am watching Alexander Nevsky, which I ordered from Netflix.  I have a bottle of Ketel One, which I am drinking out of a glass, although the bottle...</description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="DarkGreen"><b>I am watching <i>Alexander Nevsky</i>, which I ordered from <i>Netflix</i>.  I have a bottle of <i>Ketel One</i>, which I am drinking out of a glass, although the bottle itself is sitting on a tray on top of my ottoman.  The volume on the television is muted, because the film's dialogue is in Russian, and has subtitles anyway, so I don't need to hear any of it.  I have my CD player on and I am listening to Stravinsky's <i>Histoire du soldat.</i> I have an ingrown toe-nail, which is causing me a great deal of annoyance, so I finish up the bottle of vodka, and using a pair of pliers, pull the offending toe-nail out altogether.  Unfortunately, my toe starts to bleed profusely and I drip blood about the apartment while I head to the linen closet to retrieve a towel to staunch the flow.  Teutonic Knights are on the television, tossing Russian babies onto a fire, and this amuses me to such an extent that the pain in my toe ebbs somewhat.  Later Prince Alexander will defeat these heartless knights in a magnificent battle on the ice, most of them drowning in their heavy armour.  This is Stalinist propaganda at it's zenith.  I switch the music to Scriabin's <i>Piano Sonata No. 8</i>....I develop a keen sense of urgency mixed with confusion, which causes me to vacillate between torpidity and enthusiasm....in response to this conflict, I simply drink more....another bottle of vodka....<i>Belvedere</i> this time....Thoughts run through my mind.....who would have succeeded Hitler if the Germans had won the war?      Did Ava Gardner and Lana Turner ever have sex with one another?........currency devaluation........micro-breweries........razor wire fences........As I sit on the sofa looking out the window into the night sky, I notice throngs of flying monkeys....thousands upon thousands of them....and they have on jackets and hats...but not pants, and that scary music is playing....from the movie with the wizard....not the <i>Grand Wizard</i>....I can't remember....       <br />
<br />
The next morning I awake on the sofa....with an incredible pain in my foot, the big toe on my right foot to be exact.  The sun is beaming into my face and it burns, so I stumble to the window and close the blinds.  I notice there is blood all over the floor and I have one sock on and I am missing a toe-nail.</b></font></blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?771-There-Will-Be-Blood-And-Flying-Monkeys</guid>
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			<title>I think I am turning into glass....</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?754-I-think-I-am-turning-into-glass</link>
			<pubDate>Sun, 03 May 2009 20:37:18 GMT</pubDate>
			<description>*I have several silent films from Netflix, including one with Rudolf Valentino....I am fascinated with silent films...they seem....haunting...even...</description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="DarkGreen"><b>I have several silent films from <i>Netflix</i>, including one with Rudolf Valentino....I am fascinated with silent films...they seem....<i>haunting</i>...even the comedies...street scenes...Buster Keaton riding a motorcycle through an actual neighbourhood...somewhere in California in 1924...and I cannot help but wonder what that neighbourhood looks like today....it's probably all office spaces, parking lots or ghetto...violent Mexican gang members living in homes once inhabited by white Protestant insurance salesmen and their families.  This week's episode of <i>30Rock</i> was funny enough that I actually laughed aloud...and at one point, even clapped.  Tracy Morgan replaced by a gibbon, who wears a shirt that says <i>Tracy</i>.  There doesn't seem to be any reason for anything and I don't care about politics or business anymore....I have no tools.  I don't own a telephone book.  I have never purchased a lottery ticket.  I've never owned a video game console.  Why can't I wear pajamas to work?   I thought I would try washing some of my clothes in the dishwasher, just to see what would happen.  It didn't really work out so well....in fact, there was a small fire and several of my socks were ruined as well as the dishwashing machine.  On Friday, I meet Ronald Reagan on the set of <i>Wild West Whorehouse Gang Bang</i>.  I play the horse.  After filming wraps up, Ron and I head to <i>Rancho Mirage</i> where we begin a week long crime spree, killing many itinerant Mexican farm workers and also some rabbits.  Sitting by a camp fire one evening, we discuss sports and politics.  I tout the merits of Governor Thomas Dewey as a possible Republican nominee in the upcoming presidential election.  Ron is an avid supporter of the Roosevelt administration and the New Deal.  I tell him that Roosevelt is a dwindling force.  Ron fries some roasted green chilies and onions, which we served with the rabbits we killed.  We are sharing a bottle of bourbon.    Ron calls Jane Wyman the biggest ball-buster he's ever known.  A question we both ponder: Why is Ava Gardner fucking Mickey Rooney? $$$$$$$$ <i>Andy Hardy Get's Laid</i>.........</b></font></blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?754-I-think-I-am-turning-into-glass</guid>
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			<title>I kill some squirrels and eat at Arbys.</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?749-I-kill-some-squirrels-and-eat-at-Arbys</link>
			<pubDate>Wed, 29 Apr 2009 20:26:22 GMT</pubDate>
			<description>*Taking the day off work.  I drive to Des Plaines for no reason in particular.  I am driving a 1997 Ford Crown Victoria that belongs...</description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="DarkGreen"><b>Taking the day off work.  I drive to Des Plaines for no reason in particular.  I am driving a 1997 Ford Crown Victoria that belongs to.....someone...I can't remember who.   I am wearing a pair of dark blue, fire-retardant U.S. Navy issue coveralls.  I have on a red baseball hat with the Beaufort, South Carolina Fire Department insignia on the front.  I also have a pair of dark Blues Brothers style sunglasses.  I am wearing a pair of rubber boots.  There is no CD player, so I am listening to the radio.  A Spanish station playing samba(?) music.  The windows are rolled down.    I pass by a McDonalds where I shot an old man a few months ago.  There are flower displays tied around a street-light near the location of the incident.  I am drinking a 1 litre bottle of Dasani.  I never would have considered consuming Dasani Bottled Water until I read a magazine article that stated Dasani Brand was found to have illegally high levels of bromate, a cancer causing chemical.    <br />
 <br />
     I stop in a pleasant park adjacent to an upper middle-class neighborhood .  I switch from Spanish music to Rush Limbaugh.  Rush is discussing Senator Arlin Spector's switch to the Democrat Party.  Arlin Spector is a filthy bastard.  Rush's tirade inspires me.   I see several grey squirrels near an empty picnic area.  There has been an invasion of grey squirrels in parks and neighborhoods of late.  Apparantly, the grey squirrels are extremely aggressive and violent and they slaughter the timid red squirrels whenever possible.  I am a great admirer of these grey squirrels.  I remove a Beeman .22 cal. air rifle w/ 4x32 scope from my trunk.  I sling the rifle around my shoulder and place a Crosman .22 cal. air pistol in my belt.  When confronted by several housewives as to my activities, I explain that I am an agent of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, and that I am &quot;humanely disposing&quot; of rabid rodents in the area.  I walk towards a large grouping of trees where I spot some red squirrels.  One squirrel is stopped about ten feet from a spruce tree.  I aim and shoot.  Dead.  In the next two hours I manage to bag 27 red squirrels.  Two local boys, Scotty and Kyle, assisted me.  To see such homicidal dedication among children made me proud to be an American.  I let them keep the pistol and a box of ammuntion.  I also told them that if they were to see any negroes or Mexicans anywhere near the park, they should call Homeland Security immediately.  I also encouraged them to enlist in the United States Marine Corps as soon as they turn 18, and I gave them some of my American Nazi Party brochures.   <br />
 <br />
     Then I paid my respects to Chief Blood Claw, the leader of the grey squirrels in the park.  He praised my ruthlessness and steely determination and accepted me as an honorary member of his clan.  I was able to forgo having my testicles bitten off, which is usually what a squirrel chieften will do to other males in his clan.  Blood Claw even offered me several of his concubines.  I refused this incredible honor, however, as I am an Episcopalian and therefore, celibate.  Afterwards, I drive to an Arby's on Lee Street where I eat three large roast beef sandwiches w/ Arby's sauce and two orders of Curly fries...to drink, a large sized Mountain Dew.  Rush Limbaugh is singing a duet with Phil Donohue....something from <i>My Fair Lady.  I Could Have Danced All Night......</i></b></font></blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?749-I-kill-some-squirrels-and-eat-at-Arbys</guid>
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			<title>Free-range squid recipe</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?735-Free-range-squid-recipe</link>
			<pubDate>Sun, 26 Apr 2009 17:55:01 GMT</pubDate>
			<description>*A Free-Range Squid  is allowed to roam without being confined and feeds on naturally grown crops, consuming only a vegetarian diet. This is unlike...</description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><b>A Free-Range Squid  is allowed to roam without being confined and feeds on naturally grown crops, consuming only a vegetarian diet. This is unlike most commercially raised squid, which are confined to feed lots where the food consumed is commercially produced. Free-Range Squid are not given antibiotics to keep them from being exposed to unwanted chemicals. Many people like the flavor of Free-Range Squid, however, their quality can vary widely and they are generally more expensive.  <br />
 <br />
 <br />
 <br />
Free-Range Squid Stuffed with Spinach and Ricotta Cheese <br />
<br />
 <br />
Serves 6 <br />
 <br />
12 squid, about 6 inches each, cleaned. <br />
 <br />
1/2 lb ricotta cheese <br />
2 lbs fresh spinach, steamed lightly, and <br />
      liquid squeezed out <br />
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese <br />
1/2 tsp black pepper <br />
1/4 tsp grated nutmeg <br />
2 Tbl finely minced fresh parsley <br />
1 egg, slightly beaten <br />
 <br />
2 Tbl olive oil <br />
2 cloves garlic, finely minced <br />
1.5 lbs plum tomatoes, pureed in blender <br />
1 Tbl tomato paste <br />
1/2 tsp fresh rosemary or 1/4 tsp dried <br />
 <br />
1.5 Tbl butter <br />
3 Tbl pine nuts or sunflower seeds <br />
 <br />
Cut off tentacles so that you have just the body cavity. Make <br />
sure to keep it whole so you can stuff it without leaks. Reserve <br />
the tentacles. <br />
 <br />
Mix together the ricotta, spinach, Parmesan, pepper, nutmeg, <br />
parsley and egg. Set aside. <br />
 <br />
Heat the oil at medium in a large heavy skillet or saucepan. <br />
Add the garlic. Stir and cook for a few seconds. Add the tomatoes. <br />
Bring to a boil and add tomato paste. Lower heat and add rosemary. <br />
Simmer sauce for 25 minutes, stirring occasionally. <br />
 <br />
While the sauce is simmering, stuff the body of each squid only <br />
about 1/3 full of the spinach/cheese mixture. If you overstuff <br />
them, they will explode. You might also want to poke a hole or <br />
two in the body of the squid. Fasten the opening of each squid <br />
with a toothpick. <br />
 <br />
After the sauce has cooked, place the stuffed squid in the <br />
simmering sauce. Add the tentacles to the sauce. Simmer for 3 <br />
to 4 minutes. Then turn carefully and simmer for an additional <br />
3 minutes. <br />
 <br />
While the squid is cooking, melt the butter in a clean pan and <br />
toss the pine nuts in the butter until golden. Watch carefully; <br />
pine nuts have a tendancy to burn. <br />
 <br />
Lift out stuffed squid to a warm, flat serving dish with sides. <br />
Spoon sauce around and garnish with pine nuts. <br />
<br />
</b></blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?735-Free-range-squid-recipe</guid>
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			<title>Stupid fucking survey...because I am bored...you bastards!</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?715-Stupid-fucking-survey-because-I-am-bored-you-bastards!</link>
			<pubDate>Mon, 20 Apr 2009 21:08:28 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[What type of day are you having?  
 
*The days are indistinguishable.* 
 
Was there anyone who "made your day"? 
 
*backgrounder...it's an industry...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore">What type of day are you having? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>The days are indistinguishable.</b></font><br />
<br />
Was there anyone who &quot;made your day&quot;?<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>backgrounder...it's an industry term</b></font><br />
<br />
Are you liking how you look today?<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>Indistinguishable from any other week-day....</b></font><br />
<br />
Do you have anyone crushing on you?<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>??? Is this a <i>wrestling term?</i></b></font><br />
<br />
Have you ever eaten a bug?<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>Insects...rats....Belorussian escort girls...it's all the same.</b></font><br />
<br />
Are you vegetarian? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>No.  That is disgusting. </b></font><br />
<br />
<br />
When was the last time you kissed someone? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>Sunday afternoon.</b></font><br />
<br />
Are you a mother or a father? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>What a frightening thought.  No.</b></font><br />
<br />
When was your last paycheck? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>I don't know...$ transferred directly to my account.</b></font><br />
<br />
How many pets do you have?<br />
<br />
<font color="darkgreen"><b>Geoffroy.  A fish.  He won't contribute to the cable bill, even though he does nothing but watch television all day.</b></font><br />
<br />
What kind of toothpaste do you use? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>Rembrandt</b></font><br />
<br />
Are you closer to being rich or poor? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>Upper middle-class</b></font><br />
<br />
What was the last gift someone gave you? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b><i>fellatio</i></b></font><br />
<br />
<br />
Do you appreciate that person?<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>!</b></font><br />
<br />
Are you on any type of drugs?<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>Ativan</b></font><br />
<br />
Are you in love? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>No.  I have never been in love.</b></font><br />
<br />
Do you even believe in love?<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>Love of country...perhaps...but I don't really even have a country...so...no.</b></font><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
How many things are you really thinking about right now? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>76,177</b></font><br />
<br />
Did you talk to anyone you didn't like today? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>All of my clients...all of my colleagues...the guy who brought the sandwiches....some bitch in the lobby of my building...the Albanian door-man...a bicycle messenger....some Jew in the elevator...</b></font><br />
<br />
<br />
Have you finished school yet?<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>Yes.</b></font><br />
<br />
What is/was your worst subject?<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>Business ethics</b></font><br />
<br />
What's your father's middle name? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>Klaus</b></font><br />
<br />
What kind of mood are you in?<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>I feel....<i>numb.</i></b></font><br />
<br />
Are you waiting for anything? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b><i>Wheel of Fortune</i></b></font><br />
<br />
Have you ever watched Fahrenheit 9/11?<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>No.</b></font><br />
<br />
Where were you September 11, 2001? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>Work.  The building was evacuated and I went out and got drunk with some co-workers.</b></font><br />
<br />
What book are you currently reading?<br />
<br />
<font color="darkgreen"><b><i>Milton Friedman on Economics: Selected Papers by Milton Friedman</i></b></font><br />
<br />
What song did you last listen to? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>I heard that ugly woman singing on the news.</b></font><br />
<br />
<br />
What movie is in your DVD player? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b><i>Rome: Season II</i></b></font><br />
How many windows are open in your computer?<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>4</b></font> <br />
<br />
Are you a very stressed out person?<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>No.</b></font><br />
<br />
How old is your mom? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>59?  She was thirty-four the last time I saw her.</b></font><br />
<br />
Has your mom ever been on television or in the paper? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>Wedding announcement?</b></font><br />
<br />
Are you single? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>I guess not.</b></font><br />
<br />
Do you have a beach house? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>I have a cabin in Wisconsin.</b></font><br />
<br />
<br />
Where do you live? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b><i>People's Democratic Socialist Republic of Illinois</i></b></font><br />
<br />
<br />
Did you honestly miss Melrose Place? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>????</b></font><br />
<br />
Do you ever watch Bold and the Beautiful? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>???</b></font><br />
<br />
Do you sometimes watch the news? <br />
<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>constantly</b></font><br />
<br />
<br />
Do you believe in aliens?<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>I believe in <i>illegal aliens</i>, and I hate them.</b></font><br />
<br />
Do you like Jerry Springer? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>Guillotine</b></font><br />
<br />
<br />
Have you ever been to World Trade Center? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>Summer 1999...</b></font><br />
<br />
What is your favorite magazine? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b><i>The Economist</i></b></font><br />
<br />
How many times have you gone to a foreign country? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>I have spent most of my life in foreign countries.</b></font><br />
<br />
When will you next go on a plane? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>June?</b></font><br />
<br />
When did you last go on a plane? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>Last June?</b></font><br />
<br />
Do you watch football Sundays? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>No.</b></font><br />
<br />
Do you read Perez Hilton?<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>???</b></font><br />
<br />
What are your thoughts on Disney Channel?<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>I like Donald Duck.  He is psychotic.</b></font><br />
<br />
Do you like Techno? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>I like the Russian whores who listen to it.</b></font><br />
<br />
Do you ever want to get married? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>No.</b></font><br />
<br />
What is your favorite country? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b><i>Rhodesia</i></b></font><br />
<br />
Do you like animals?<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>I like sharks.  I love hyenas.</b></font><br />
<br />
Do you have an Ipod? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>Yes.</b></font><br />
<br />
<br />
Do you watch TV a lot? <br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>Yes.</b></font><br />
<br />
<br />
Are you afraid of the dark?<br />
<br />
<br />
<font color="DarkGreen"><b>I am a creature of the night.</b></font></blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
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			<title>April in Hammond...last week-end</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?689-April-in-Hammond-last-week-end</link>
			<pubDate>Mon, 13 Apr 2009 00:19:09 GMT</pubDate>
			<description>*FRIDAY NIGHT....After work to Hammond, Indiana......Horseshoe Casino...myself....with... Harrison Corning...Jim Hutchinson... and Jim Graham plus...</description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="DarkGreen"><b>FRIDAY NIGHT....After work to Hammond, Indiana......<i>Horseshoe Casino</i>...myself....with... Harrison Corning...Jim Hutchinson... and Jim Graham plus four interns.<br />
 <br />
We are driving in two vehicles........I'm with Hutch in his BMW X5 SUV.  Intern #2 is riding shot-gun.  I'm in the driver's side rear seat.  Walter(intern) is also sitting in the back.  The satellite radio is on a sports station, so I'm listening to my MP3 player...a recording of Buddhist Monks chanting.  The other guys are riding in Harrison's Yukon.  I chose to ride with Hutch because I knew that INTERN #3 would be telling jokes endlessly....I hate jokes.  Also, the BMW has a smoother ride, and Hutch didn't have anything to drink after work.<br />
 <br />
At the casino I partner up with Hutch at a craps table...pass-line betting, hold the dice...thirty good throws.  I hit eight ten times.  Hutch was betting good and made several hundred dollars.  Walter was hanging around the whole time because the twenty dollars he brought to gamble with had been sucked into a slot machine and disappeared in about fifteen minutes.  I give Walter a fifty dollar bill, but he does not want to gamble.  I tell him not to worry about it, as there are plenty of starving children in.....<i>Zimbabwe</i>, who would give anything to be able to play the slots in Indiana, if they weren't thinking about filling their bloated, empty bellies.  <i>WHAT WOULD JESUS DO?</i>  Walter walks away.   Intern# 2 runs off to the poker room, and we don't see him again for several hours.  He winds up winning over three-thousand dollars and we are all very impressed.  Dinner is on INTERN #2.  Harrison and Graham play black-jack the whole time.  They lose all of their money. <br />
 <br />
 We have dinner at a place called <i>Benny's</i>  I have a cheese-burger and fries....mustard...a lot of mustard...onions...pickles.       Corning asks the table what two women each of us would want to have a three-some with....Hutch chooses Emma Watson(?) and Miley Cyrus(?)...Graham chooses Tina Fey and Sarah Palin...Corning chooses Bristol Palin(pre-pregnancy) and Sarah Palin...I choose Erin Burnett and Michelle Bartiromo..  Harrison and The Jims nod approvingly...the interns look confused....Intern #3 mentions something about what I assume is a female country music singer coupled with a sheep or something, I don't really hear him....Corning tells him to shut it.  The conversation veers into a discussion of sex with pregnant women...teen-age girls...mothers and daughters....Walter, my intern, looks a bit queasy.  He's a Chinese-American kid from Houston.  A good Christian, he's attending UC and is certainly a virgin.  I start explaining to him why I added a call strategy to my short futures today...feed efficiency indicators...maximizing income over feed costs vs. feed costs over cwt.  He is nursing a <i>Heineken</i>.  We drive back home and I sleep the whole way.  The satellite radio is on a Frank Sinatra station. <br />
<br />
 We drive downtown for some drinks.  Walter takes a cab home.  Hutch, INTERN #2 and myself start downing shots...INTERN #2 is buying girls shots.  Intern #2 is flashing a large wad of cash.  Intern #2 is a fucking rube.  Hutch takes his money and puts it in his sock.   We're outside of a bar on Clark Street with some bums on bicycles....we buy the bums some booze then pay them $10 to guzzle it down after which they race on their bicycles...  the winner gets $50.00...the loser gets $25.00, but only if he lets the winner urinate on him....<br />
 <br />
My bum is an old black man,...missing two front teeth....we name him Cowboy, because he has a straw cowboy hat....grizzled...he looks eighty, but he's probably fifty or so....he has an Obama campaign button on his filthy greenish brown(?) courdoroy coat.  Hutch's bum is named Floyd.  Floyd is also black.  We've seen Floyd around before.  Hutch once paid him to shave his moustache to look like Hitler's.  Floyd is wearing a Milwaukee Brewers baseball hat.  When the race begins, Cowboy gets off to a shaky start....veers into a parking meter...falls on the pavement...I guess Cowboy is going to get pissed on.  Floyd carries the day. Hutch wants to up the ante...raise the stakes...pay the bums to make out...$50.00 each.....<br />
 <br />
A new idea?  BUM PORN!  Are we ready for that?<br />
 ......Hutch gets it on his cell phone....keeps showing it to girls in the bars....(Hutch is NOT going to get laid tonight.)    I am fucking tired.  <br />
 <br />
 <br />
Saturday:  I am having dinner with a girl named Anne.  I am wearing a navy pin-stripe suit by Hart Schaffner Marx, with a grey/black tie by David Donahue.  She tells me that I probably shouldn't go out looking like a bank executive...I tell her that I rather enjoy being the object of scorn...she rolls her eyes.<br />
We're having dinner at a restaurant called Riva.  I didn't want to go there because I hate the Navy Pier, which is usually filled with tourists and obese people, the kind of people who shop at <i>Wal-Mart</i>,  but everyone is always raving about the &quot;amazing Lakefront view&quot; at this particular establishment, so I figure she will find it impressive, and it is only a short distance from the theatre.  We have a lakefront table... and...<i>THERE IS AN AMAZING LAKEFRONT VIEW!</i>...I don't see anyone familiar...the diners at the table next to ours are discussing the Chicago Bear's new quarter-back....I have some scotch.  Anne is talking about a book she's reading....teen-age girl is murdered and narrates the story from the after-life....I nod in all of the appropriate places...Hmmmm...<i>THAT IS VERY INTERESTING</i>...<i>How long will it be until I bury my face between your thighs?</i>  She is wearing a black, wool jacket with matching skirt and a white blouse.  I have black mussels in a white wine sauce and a 28 oz. rib-eye.  I drink a bottle of Australian Shiraz.  Anne has crab-cakes and  ahi tuna with a few glasses of Riesling.<br />
 <br />
We are attending a performance of Twelfth Night at the Chicago Shakespeare Theatre...this is not my ideal way to spend an evening.  <br />
 <br />
She wanted to attend the Cast Call and introduce me to one of her friends who has a minor role, some fat homo-sexual no doubt...thankfully our dinner plans do not allow for this.<br />
<br />
   I am not very fond of Shakespearean comedy, and it didn't help that the three female leads were played by negresses....I would have preferred to see King Lear or Richard III, something with sword-play and murder...rather than sexual ambiguity and cross dressing...the steak and the wine make me drowsy and I...catch myself dozing off more than once....I have two glasses of scotch during the intermission...this keeps me fortified...but I laugh and clap in all the right places, so she is satisfied.  After...I am forced to meet her friend...who turns out to be <i>SHOCKINGLY</i> a homo-sexual(!), although he is thin and mulatto.  I force myself to grip his hand and look him in the eye....<i>IT IS A PLEASURE</i>....but my stomach churns and I feel nauseous.   She tells me he was on an episode of some television series I never heard of...<i>THAT IS VERY....IMPRESSIVE</i>.  <i>What a loser.</i>  I hope I'm not dragooned into fraternising with these people all evening.  We wind up at the Redhead Piano Bar with some of her friends from work or college....I have several glasses of Cragganmore, which is my father's favourite scotch....I feel only slightly soused and am able to converse politely even though I do express my displeasure with the current administration.  I am the only Republican in the group.  I am also the only person at the table who has ever discharged a firearm.   I steer the conversation towards my travels in Africa and since one of the other couples recently visited Kenya, there is an amiable atmosphere.  The piano player is doing <i>ROCKET MAN</i> by Elton John and I would like very much to leave, but where would I go?  Butch McGuire's?  I get a text message from Jocko Rawlings.  He says we have to move the tyres because they're tearing down the barn.  I have no idea what he's talking about. <br />
 <br />
</b></font></blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?689-April-in-Hammond-last-week-end</guid>
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			<title>I buy presents...X-Mas Party...Gibsons...</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?440-I-buy-presents-X-Mas-Party-Gibsons</link>
			<pubDate>Fri, 26 Dec 2008 00:08:50 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[*I went shopping Monday or Tuesday, I don't remember.  It may have even been Saturday or Sunday.   I bought a crystal shark from Steuben for myself,...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="DarkGreen"><b>I went shopping Monday or Tuesday, I don't remember.  It may have even been Saturday or Sunday.   I bought a crystal shark from Steuben for myself, which I will probably put on my desk at work, a book of Emily Dickinson poems for Elspeth Shottenkirk, even though I am not dating her, and have never, as far as I can recall, even held her hand.  I also got her a gift certificate from <i>Victoria's Secret</i>.  For my cousin, Henrik, I purchased a bottle of <i>The Macallan Fine Oak 21 Year Highland Single Malt Scotch Whisky</i>.  There were several smaller gifts for some co-workers whose names I drew in the Secret Santa scheme... Stephen Pryor: a bottle of <i>Woodford Reserve</i>...Lee Ferrar, an art-deco styled <i>Zippo</i> lighter and Jim Muir; a golf themed, pewter flask with a liquor flask funnel.  I spent the evenings viewing East German films from the 1960's and 70's that I rented from <i>Netflix</i>.  I watched one of these films; <i>The Legend of Paul and Paula</i>, three or four times.  I also received a card from my father, who lives in Australia...along with a check for three-thousand dollars and several hundred photographs of various fish he caught or claims to have caught in the Indian Ocean.  I composed various profane statements on the back of each photo and put them in the mail boxes of the other tenents in my building.  My uncle Roland sent me a check for three hundred dollars and a Christmas card with Barak Obama shining Sarah Palin's shoes.  I also watched an interesting documentary on parasites, although that might have been a dream.<br />
 <br />
X-MAS PARTY  Tuesday(?) at the Drake<br />
 <br />
I am at a table with Jared Van Stroop, Dan Egizi, Sean Londrigan, Steven Gibbs and Murlidhar Subramanya (?).  Of these, only Jared, Sean, and myself have dates.  Jared is with a brunette named <i>Brandy</i>.  Sean is with a blonde named <i>Brittany</i>....or Jared was with a brunette named Brittany and Sean was with a blonde named Brandy...(?) I am with Elspeth Shottenkirk, whose father owns an auto dealership downstate...in Quincy, I believe.  Elspeth has black hair and green eyes, and is wearing a dark grey cashmere, mock turtleneck pullover with a black, pleated skirt and black boots.  She also has on black horned-rimmed glasses by Yves St. Laurent.   She is a financial analyst at <i>UBS AG</i>.   I am drinking a <i>Laophraig</i> on the rocks.  Jared has a blended Scotch, something cheap, <i>J&amp;B</i>, I think. Sean is drinking <i>Tanqueray Gin</i> with lime.  The dates have wine, all red.  Dan is drinking a <i>Bud Light</i>, Steven a <i>Coors</i>.  Murlidhar is drinking a <i>Diet Coke</i>.  Murlidhar never talks unless someone talks to him.  No one talks to Murlidhar.  Murlidhar is a <i>party animal</i>.  There is a band playing light jazz X-Mas music.  The CEO is at a table up front with his homely wife.  He's wearing a Santa Claus hat.  He has on a <i>Christmas tie</i>.  I am wearing a two-button black suit with white pinstripes by <i>Joseph Abboud</i>, a white herringbone shirt by <i>Ike Behar</i>,  silver cuff-links inlaid with onyx and multi-textured blue stones by <i>Façonnable</i> and a blue patterned Italian-silk tie by <i>Burberry</i>.  My shoes are black, cap-toed oxfords by <i>John Lobb</i>.  My black three-button cashmere overcoat from <i>Gucci</i> was placed in the coat-check in the lobby.  I am on a variety of prescription medications including clozapine.  I have become comfortably numb. <br />
<br />
 <br />
Gibsons.....X-MAS Eve.....I am with; Stuart Chapin, Jason Howe, Kenneth Schuyler and Kelly McCaslin, who is a guy despite the fact that he has a girl's name. <br />
 <br />
 <br />
Everyone is watching <i>Fast Money</i> on <i>CNBC</i>.  The Dow closed at 8468.48 and light, sweet crude for February delivery fell $3.63 to settle at $35.35 a barrel....Blagojevich...auto bail-outs...dead Mexicans in garbage bags...<i>Marley and I</i>...<i>Chicago Vikings...Green Bay Bears....Minnesota Packers</i>...<i>Toyota's</i> plunging sales...unemployment up...spending down...   I cannot even pretend to be interested in this, so I just sit there more or less and drink.  I have a glass of <i>Beefeater</i> with lime even though I do not really like gin.  Winter storms, ice and snow make a pleasant backdrop for the Christmas season, and I can't help but feel that I should be <i>UPBEAT</i>(?)  I am hungry, despite having eaten a corned-beef sandwich from the <i>Berghoff Café</i> earlier...and now my stomach is burning a little and I am feeling a bit irritated.  I take an <i>Ativan</i> with a glass of water while the guys order food.  I find the piano player's rendition of <i>Goodbye Yellow Brick Road</i> soothing and I am able to concentrate on the menu.  I order lamb-chops and baked potatoes.  The conversation at the table goes something like this, although I could be thinking of a different evening altogether or a sit-com I watched a few years ago.     <br />
<br />
Kell: Hey, any of you guys want to go see the Blackhawks?  I have two extra tickets for Friday night.<br />
 <br />
Kenneth: I can't...I'm going out with Penny.<br />
 <br />
Stu:  Penny...?  Penny?  Penny...<i>reporter</i>?<br />
 <br />
Kenneth:  No.  Penny <i>Tellerman</i>.<br />
 <br />
Jason: Who the hell am I thinking of?<br />
 <br />
Stu: Those guys in Vegas with the gay lions.<br />
 <br />
Kell:  That's <i>Penn and Teller</i>.<br />
 <br />
Jason:  I don't think the lions are gay.<br />
 <br />
Kell:  Anyway...<i>HOCKEY TICKETS</i>...You guys want to fight for them?<br />
 <br />
Stu:  I'll go.<br />
 <br />
Kenneth:  What...no plans on a Friday night?..did you <i>FINALLY</i> get banned from every gay bar in Cook County?<br />
 <br />
Stu:  You're the one dating a gay lion tamer.<br />
<br />
Jason:  The lions aren't gay.<br />
 <br />
Kenneth:  Hey, whatever.  At least <i>I'M</i> not going to be drooling over a bunch of tooth-less, Russian <i>MEN</i> on ice-skates.<br />
 <br />
Kell:  Pete digs Russians.<br />
 <br />
Pete: Those are <i>WOMEN</i>.<br />
 <br />
Kenneth:  How can you tell the difference?<br />
 <br />
Jason:  The women have most of their teeth?<br />
 <br />
Stu:  Hey, I've met some of those chicks.  They look like models.<br />
 <br />
Kenneth: Well, No one is going to hand over a few hundred a night to bone a <i>WALRUS</i>.<br />
 <br />
Kell: Stu would.<br />
 <br />
Pete:  Listen, I've told you all before, these women are <i>NOT</i> escort girls.  They all have professional careers.<br />
 <br />
Kenneth: Oh...they're <i>PROFESSIONALS</i> alright.<br />
 <br />
Stu:  What do they do that they can all afford to wear sable coats, with matching sable hats?<br />
 <br />
Kell: <i>TICKETS....PETE</i>?<br />
 <br />
Pete: I'm supposed to have dinner with Elspeth.<br />
 <br />
Kenneth:  Jesus fucking Christ, why don't you two fucking get married already?  You're already <i>NOT</i> having sex with her anyway.<br />
 <br />
Pete:  I cannot marry Elspeth.  She watches <i>Will and Grace</i>.<br />
 <br />
Kell:  So does Stu.<br />
 <br />
Stu:  That's real nice...coming from a <i>GUY</i> named <i>KELLY</i>!<br />
 <br />
Kell:  Whoa!  It's been like...almost a whole hour since anyone made that joke</b></font></blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
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			<title>16 little known facts..</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?374-16-little-known-facts</link>
			<pubDate>Thu, 27 Nov 2008 00:11:24 GMT</pubDate>
			<description>*1.    My mother disappeared when I was twelve. 
 
2.    My father was an army officer. 
 
3.    I was a bully at school. 
 
4.    I have lived in...</description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="DarkGreen"><b>1.    My mother disappeared when I was twelve.<br />
<br />
2.    My father was an army officer.<br />
<br />
3.    I was a bully at school.<br />
<br />
4.    I have lived in three different countries.<br />
<br />
5.    I have been shot at.<br />
<br />
6.    I have shot at other people.<br />
<br />
7.    I once ate a rat.<br />
<br />
8.    I occasionally suffer from severe migraine head-aches.<br />
<br />
9.    My grand-father was killed after being thrown from a horse.<br />
<br />
10.   I dated a ballerina.<br />
<br />
11.   I hate champagne.<br />
<br />
12.   I have a bust of Mussolini on my desk at work, but no one has taken notice of it.<br />
<br />
13.   I hate driving in parking lots.<br />
<br />
14.   My favourite film is <i>Gunga Din.</i><br />
<br />
15.   I cannot sleep without an electric fan in the room.<br />
<br />
16.   I still have my teddy bear.</b></font></blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?374-16-little-known-facts</guid>
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			<title>Dinner...WICKED...Ivan and jazz</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?250-Dinner-WICKED-Ivan-and-jazz</link>
			<pubDate>Sun, 05 Oct 2008 17:17:42 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[*I meet a friend and colleague, Paul Castle and his wife Carrie at Petterino's before we go to a theatre production at the Ford Center.   Carrie was...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="DarkGreen"><b>I meet a friend and colleague, Paul Castle and his wife Carrie at <i>Petterino's</i> before we go to a theatre production at the Ford Center.   Carrie was a teacher, but now she stays home with their little girl whose name is Melanie(?)  Or maybe it's <i>Giraffe</i>?  Maybe they have a pet giraffe named Melanie, or maybe Paul was talking about buying a stuffed giraffe for his daughter whose name may or may not be Melanie.  At this point, I am very tired.  It has been a busy couple of weeks and I have not been sleeping well.  Elspeth Shottenkirk also joins us.  Elspeth and I frequently attend various artistic and social events together, although we are not romantically compatible.  Elspeth is wearing a black, belted crepe dress, black closed-toe pumps and pearl stud-earrings with a pearl and diamond pendant necklace.  Her black hair is worn up.  She has acne scars on her face...visible reminders of a painful adolescence....aside from this, she would be considered <i>cute</i>.  She somewhat resembles the English actress who played on the Emmy Award winning television programme <i>Frasier</i>, except with acne scars.  The place is packed.  Theatre people.  Fat people.  Rich people.  Gay people.  I am probably the only male in the place, perhaps even within a thirty mile radius, who is not a complete and total homo-sexual(Paul is questionable, in my opinion).  Caricatures of celebrities adorn the walls.  I can make out the likenesses of such luminaries as Red Buttons, Morey Amsterdam and Hal Linden.  I am truly....<i>awestruck</i>.  I have on  an <i>Alfani</i> three-button black leather blazer, a grey, cashmere turtle-neck pullover and black wool flat-front trousers by <i>Zanella</i> with black boots by <i>Salvatore Ferragamo</i>.<br />
      <br />
   Our waiter was an obnoxious, effeminate prick.  I asked him if it were at all possible to have a chicken plucked and beheaded right at the table before it was cooked.  He very non-chalantly explained that this would not only be unsanitary and illegal, but that the resulting noise and mess would most likely have a negative impact on the dining experience of the other patrons.  I told him about this great new wine from Chernobyl, Ukraine and how I read in <i>Bon Appétit</i> that it was all the rage in...Luxembourg, or something.  This was a complete fabrication on my part, but I was feeling a bit testy because I was not going to see a chicken get plucked and beheaded.  I had sort of been counting on that.  For an appetizer, I had the Jumbo Gulf Shrimp and for my entree; the prime rib - medium rare. I had a bottle of Cabernet, which I drank myself along with two glasses of <i>Glenfiddich</i>.  For dessert there was chocolate cake with fudge and whipped cream.  Paul keeps talking about work...the credit crisis....blah blah...The girls are gossiping away...allies in that cruel, bitchy world that women inhabit...<i>what is she wearing?  Look at her calves!  Those have to be extensions</i>... John McCain...economic bailout plan...credit default swapping... Sara Palin...dead moose...abortions...a dizzying cacophony of squawking on issues I care nothing about...   <br />
<br />
My original plan was to stay home and watch the weeks worth of <i>Wheel of Fortune</i> that I TiVo'd, but Elspeth was being pouty and annoying, and I really didn't want to hear her whine all week-end.  As for the selection of entertainment, I suggested  <i>Revenge of the Enema Sisters</i>..., but the girls vetoed that idea rather quickly.  Instead, we attend something called <i>WICKED</i>...some sort of left-wing revisionist version of the <i>WIZARD OF OZ</i>...the entire production is tinged with <i>communism</i>...this causes me a great deal of consternation...which is only relieved with some <i>Ativan</i> and a few sips of bourbon from the flask I have in my jacket.  The fact that I spent ninety dollars on this idiotic, feminist drivel is almost more than I can bear, and the only thing that keeps me from becoming completely unhinged is that Elspeth paid for her own ticket, although she did insist on sitting in the most expensive seats in the theatre.  When the damned mess finally ends I see Elspeth to a cab and head off on my own...the lone wolf.   <br />
 <br />
I go to a jazz bar on State Street.  I hang out there fairly often.  The television is on a college football game... Illinois beating Michigan.  The music is familiar...old white men playing jazz.  In twenty years all of this will disappear.  Jazz will die.  I wonder if someday there will be old white men playing rap music to crowds of well dressed senior citizens.  I see some people that I know...although I only know them from this particular establishment.  The bartender, Casey is in her late twenties and is taking classes at  the Art Institute.  She once told me that there were rumours I was either a gangster or a cop.  I sit at the bar next to an attractive woman in her early forties.  I've met her several times before, but I cannot remember her name.  She says hello and we chat for a few minutes before Ivan shows up.  Ivan is also wearing a black leather jacket.  He is with a couple of Euro-whores.  They go sit at a table and he joins me at the bar.  We start drinking shots while we discuss various topics of interest....firearms, explosives, our mutual hatred of Muslims, the upcoming Japanese Grand Prix, Russian escort girls etc.  I've known Ivan for about two years, but I don't know his last name and he doesn't know mine.  That's the way things seem to be here, which is fine with me.  I am pretty sure that Ivan is either a gangster or a cop.  The band is playing &quot;April In Paris,&quot; and I realise that I have never been to Paris in April, only in February and October.  I wonder if the song would work as well if it were titled: &quot;April in Marseilles&quot; or &quot;February in Paris&quot; and I decide that it probably would not.  Paris sucks  anyway.  I get a cab.  I go home.  Elspeth calls my cell phone.  I tell her I'm fine.  Tired.  </b></font></blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?250-Dinner-WICKED-Ivan-and-jazz</guid>
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			<title>Sunday</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?199-Sunday</link>
			<pubDate>Sun, 14 Sep 2008 22:49:47 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[*Sunday: I cleaned out a truck I've been using early in the evening.  I threw away a Richard Nixon mask and five empty money bags from the Soy...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><b><font color="DarkGreen">Sunday: I cleaned out a truck I've been using early in the evening.  I threw away a Richard Nixon mask and five empty money bags from the <i>Soy Capitol Bank</i> of Decatur, Illinois.  Also, I found a sterling-sliver flask with a stag emblem that I received as a gift from my uncle Hugh on my thirteenth birthday.  There were three unopened condom packets, two empty <i>Arby's</i> bags, assorted change which amounted to $11.63, several unspent .9mm, .380mm, and .22mm rounds, six empty bottles of <i>Dasani</i>, a brown flannel shirt from <i>Eddie Bauer</i>, a pair of black leather gloves, two broken pairs of sunglasses, an issue of <i>Black Honey</i> magazine, three empty wallets, assorted unopened junk mail and four <i>Reese's Peanut Butter Cup</i> wrappers.  Later, at a <i>Best Buy</i> in Arlington Heights, or maybe it was a <i>Circuit City</i> in Mt. Prospect...I purchased several CD's, including: <i>Orthodox Chants from Russia, Bobby Short: At The Cafe Carlyle</i>, and <i>Regis Philbin's; When You're Smiling</i>, which includes a duet of <i>They Can't Take That Away From Me</i>, with Joy Philbin.      <br />
 <br />
Watched <i>Road House</i> and <i>Red Dawn</i>.  Drank  <i>FRESCA Ice Tea</i> most of the day.  Steak.  Potatoes.  My mouth has a metallic taste.  Like I drank some sort of liquid aluminum.  I put several dozen CD's in the microwave oven.  I didn't know that you were not supposed to do that.  Silverware, I knew about.  I need a new microwave oven.</font></b></blockquote>

]]></content:encoded>
			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?199-Sunday</guid>
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			<title>Week-end</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?164-Week-end</link>
			<pubDate>Mon, 01 Sep 2008 23:06:45 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[*Friday:    ....lunch at Rhino, roasted free-range Amish chicken...bottle of Gerolsteiner..... saw Harrison Corning, who's at Franklin Templeton,...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><b><font color="DarkGreen">Friday:    ....lunch at <i>Rhino</i>, roasted free-range Amish chicken...bottle of Gerolsteiner..... saw Harrison Corning, who's at Franklin Templeton, with David Crane and Dominic Malvasi...Light, sweet crude settled at $115.46 a barrel <br />
  <br />
  <br />
Drinks at <i>Gibsons</i> after work with Vernon Tazewell, Phil Pratt, Robert Endicott and Baked Potato.  Vernon is wearing a two-button navy silk suit with blue shirt and bold striped tie, he is drinking a double J&amp;B on ice.  Phil is wearing a two-button grey plaid worsted wool suit with a black and blue striped tie.  He is drinking a Makers Mark and water.  Robert has on a three-button olive wool suit with a white striped shirt and a red patterned tie.  Rob is in A.A. and is thus drinking a Sierra Mist.  Accordingly, we are all convinced that Rob is a closeted homosexual and probably a Barak Obama supporter....this despite the fact that he is married and has a child.  Baked Potato is wearing butter, sour cream, bacon bits and chives, with salt and pepper.  He is drinking a Molotov Cocktail. <br />
 <br />
     The discussion centers mainly around business, sports and politics.  Will the Federal Reserve continue to hold interest rates through the year's end?  Everyone seems bullish on long gold futures and bearish on copper, mainly due to waning demand in China.  Iraqi bonds are delivering big-time.  The Cubs could have a chance at the pennant.   What is the best single-malt scotch?  Natalie Dessay in <i>Manon</i> at the Lyric on opening night.  How will the Bears do this season?  Will Melanie Holt ever lose weight?   Who will win the Presidential election in November?  The results of a poll at our table;  three votes for McCain and one for Obama.  Baked Potato is voting for Bob Barr, although I read somewhere that most potatoes are <i>Green Party</i> supporters.   The guys are ogling some girls at a table near ours.  Our waiter is a fag.  There is muzak in the background playing generic light jazz.  I am wearing a three-button Grey Pinstripe wool suit from <i>Ben Sherman</i> with a White shirt by <i>Ben Silver</i>,  Blue Paisley Italian-Silk tie by <i>Robert Talbott</i> and black calfskin lace-up's with perforated toes by <i>John Lobb</i>.  I have Rhodium-plated sterling silver cuff links with skull designs by <i>Robin Rotenier</i>.  I am drinking a double Tanqueray on ice. <br />
<br />
<br />
 <br />
Saturday;     <br />
 <br />
     I find myself sitting on the edge of my newly purchased queen-sized bed, which is made of hand-wrapped rattan over a solid mahogany frame.  My sheets are flax coloured 100% Egyptian cotton with a 2,691 thread count.  The  chocolate coloured cotton comforter and pillow cases have white bumble bees embroidered on them.  On the night stand nearest the door sits a glass of water and a half-empty 1 litre bottle of <i>Apollinaris</i>, both of these sitting on English beer coasters I purchased at <i>World Market</i>.  There are four empty bottles of <i>Grolsch</i> on the nightstand nearest the window, and another three or four bottles on the dresser, none of these on coasters.   I lie down flat on my back and stare at the ceiling fan, which is on full speed for some reason, even though it is fairly cold outside and there is an electric fan in the corner that is also on full speed.  The television is on but the sound is off.  A black and white film from the thirties is in the CD player and has been repeating over and over all night and into the afternoon.  <i>Harpo Marx</i> is playing <i>Chopin</i> on a grand piano, he flips out, smashes the piano to pieces...a precursor to <i>The Who</i> or <i>Jimmy Hendrix</i>.  I realize I am wearing a pair of blue boxer shorts emblazoned with beer mugs and the words; <i>Brew Crew</i> appear on cocktail napkins beneath the mugs and I wonder what kind of beer is in the mugs.  I have a closer look and notice that the mugs have tiny arms and tiny legs and that there is a smiling face peering out from inside of the mugs.  Is this the reflection of a happy beer drinker, or is it the actual face of the glass...or the beer itself?  This thought consumes me and I am overwhelmed with a sense of futility.  I have to force myself to shower and dress before I set out to see a movie and have dinner with some people that I sort of know.<br />
 <br />
Saw <i>Brideshead Revisited</i>  with this girl Parker Heathcott and Robert and Christine Lowell.  I had a small popcorn and a medium Coke.  These items together cost roughly $27, 755.  Parker is wearing a sheer, floral print silk chiffon dress.  She has on black tights and black, open toe pumps.  She is also wearing onyx drop earrings.  Christine is wearing some sort of black v-neck top with a white bow-tie blouse underneath it.  She has a black ruffled skirt with black hose and black pumps.  Robert has on some sort of queer looking suede sports coat with an equally queer looking t-shirt with a messy design that looks like spilled ink.  He has on faded jeans and cowboy boots.  The film concerned some English people living in the 1930's, who I am pretty certain were all homosexuals.   <br />
 <br />
Dinner at <i>The Gage</i>.  I am wearing a grey - solid wool two-button suit from <i>Hickey Freeman</i> with a light-blue, striped shirt,  I have <i>Cole Haan</i> oxfords.   I ordered the seahorse gumbo with avocado for an appetizer, the seared Caribou for my main course and the pumpkin cheesecake for dessert.  I had three James Bond Martinis: 3 parts <i>Tanqueray No. Ten Gin</i>, one part <i>Absolut Vodka</i>, half a measure of <i>Blond Lillet</i> and garnished with a slice of lemon peel.  Afterwards, a jazz club with live music and a relaxed atmosphere.  The conversation centers on the previously viewed film, an album by some guy named PJ Harvey, Sara Palin and Hurricane Gustav.  I express the opinion that Gustav would probably make a pretty good President in his own right.  The whole evening seems staged, fake...as if it were choreographed by some unseen force whose motivation is obviously geared towards boring me to death.  The artificiality of the entire night and the people I am spending it with is unnerving.  I am trying very hard to maintain a semblence of normality, but it is becoming increasingly difficult without the aid of medication and alcohol.  <br />
 <br />
 <br />
When the evening is finally over, I take a taxi home.  A cold shower and then to bed...where I watch an old film with Cary Grant in it.  Cary is wearing a blue single-breasted, two-button flannel suit from <i>Brooks Brothers</i> with a white shirt and a grey tie.  <br />
 <br />
Sunday:   Mass this a.m.  Reading from <i>Jeremiah 15, Psalms 26</i> and <i>Romans 12</i>.   The Bishop appears to wearing a mask from the film <i>Planet of the Apes</i>, but I am not quite sure of this.  No one else seems to be cognizant of this, or they just don't care...or maybe the Bishop is actually a talking chimpanzee, which does not seem entirely implausible.  <br />
 <br />
     This weekend has been pretty messed up.  I spent most of Sunday watching <i>The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer</i> over and over again.  I put the DVD on disc-repeat and watched the film about ten times.  <i>Shirley Temple</i> is in it.  She's about 18 and she looks pretty good.  I have to admit that I got pretty horny watching it.   <br />
<br />
 <br />
 <br />
 <br />
Monday:<br />
 <br />
       <br />
     I did not leave my apartment at all on Monday.  I took maybe six or seven showers.  I ate most of a loaf of whole wheat bread and two cans of <i>Progresso Savory Lentil Soup</i> w/ crackers and tabasco sauce.  I called random people whose numbers I got from the telephone book and asked them if Pete was there.  On one occasion, when I called Suzanne Smith 2233 W School St.  (773) 296-4591, he was actually available.  I asked him if he was selling a snow-blower.  He told me that I had the wrong number and hung up.  That was the longest conversation that I had with anyone that day.  I was wearing a pair of light blue Nordstrom pajama bottoms with a mini-check pattern and a white <i>Calvin Klein</i> t-shirt. Since I had my air-conditioning on full blast all weekend, I was also wearing my navy coloured <i>Polo Ralph Lauren Velour Kimono Robe</i>.   <br />
 <br />
<br />
</font></b></blockquote>

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			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?164-Week-end</guid>
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			<title>I Eat A Calculator</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?152-I-Eat-A-Calculator</link>
			<pubDate>Fri, 29 Aug 2008 01:12:34 GMT</pubDate>
			<description>*I stay at home Wednesday evening.  I drink two glasses of Sam Houston Bourbon, which is aged 10 years in new oak barrels that allow all of the...</description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><font color="DarkGreen"><b>I stay at home Wednesday evening.  I drink two glasses of Sam Houston Bourbon, which is aged 10 years in new oak barrels that allow all of the vanilla and caramel flavors to develop to their fullest. Its' pure Kentucky limestone water gives the bourbon a crisp, fresh taste.  I am watching a French film; <i>L'Armée des Ombres</i> (Army of Shadows) on television, which is still somewhat compelling, despite the lack of nudity or lesbianism.  I find myself imagining what France would be like today if the Germans had won the war, and I conclude that it probably wouldn't be much different.  The women would still be chain smoking whores, the men-impotant homosexuals.  After I fall asleep,  I have a series of nightmares which are the by-product of the various medications I am currently taking.  In the first of these, I am devouring a calculator.  As I am eating the calculator, I realize that this is probably not appropriate, and I start scooping pieces of metal, wire and plastic buttons out of my mouth and I am worried that maybe I should see a doctor or at least rinse my mouth out.  I wake up in a cold sweat and make my way to the bathroom where I vomit several times before brushing my teeth and rinsing my mouth out with peroxide.  I put in a DVD of <i>Men Behaving Badly: Series Four</i> (the British version), which I put on repeat before falling asleep.  Nightmare number 2 begins:  I am laying in bed and I look at the ceiling where a giant moth, whose wingspan covers the entire room, is just sitting there, not moving and I wonder what he will do if I try to leave, and I think about smashing him with the latest issue of <i>The Economist</i>, which sits on my nightstand, but I am reticent...worried that this might just piss the moth off, and then he'll.......do moths actually bite?  I start thinking about this and then my cousin, Henry, who is a DuPage County Sheriff's Deputy comes in and arrests the moth, who has several warrants against him for non-payment of child support.  As it turned out, the moth, whose name was Carl, wasn't such a bad guy.  He just fell on some hard times.  When I woke, the sun was shining and I took a cold shower and some pills before going back to sleep. </b></font></blockquote>

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			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?152-I-Eat-A-Calculator</guid>
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			<title>Sunday</title>
			<link>http://www.dreamindemon.com/forums/entry.php?133-Sunday</link>
			<pubDate>Sun, 24 Aug 2008 23:46:31 GMT</pubDate>
			<description><![CDATA[*I attend Mass.  It is the Fifteenth Sunday after Pentacost.  There are readings from Isaiah 51: 1-6  "Look to Abraham your father...and Sarah who...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote class="blogcontent restore"><b><font color="DarkGreen">I attend Mass.  It is the Fifteenth Sunday after Pentacost.  There are readings from <i>Isaiah 51: 1-6  &quot;Look to Abraham your father...and Sarah who bore you.&quot;</i>  What this has to do with me, I cannot fathom, as my father's name is <i>Dirk</i> and my mother's name is <i>Elizabeth</i>.  Brunch with the family afterward, very uneventful.  My uncle comments on my hands shaking.  I tell him that it is probably just from the <i>tertiary syphilis</i>.  He chokes on his roll but does not die.  Nancy Pelosi on <i>Meet the Press</i>...when Tom Brokaw inquired as to the low approval rating for the U.S. Congress, she managed to blame George Bush for this!  I wonder what Democrats will do once Mr. Bush has returned to Texas?  If Barak Obama is elected President, and they maintain control of Congress, who will they blame if something goes wrong?  I have to go over some paperwork, but instead I spend much of this afternoon ordering Soviet-era films from the internet, including; <i>Volga-Volga</i> {1938}, which was supposedly Stalin's favourite film. </font></b></blockquote>

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			<dc:creator>Pete Bondurant</dc:creator>
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