Buddy

I miss that black, fury beast with juicy kiss and snuffling bliss
The one that smelt like death, ate garbage and shared his breath
He was always sandy, wet and doggy but his mind was never foggy
He rolled in beachy dead things, came back with stinky offerings
His undigested gifts wrapped in plastics, ropes and gaskets
Whatever I threw away he found, even below the ground
He never gave up on me, even when I acted angerly
He was!

Keyboard's a Whore

Dust, dirt, numbers and letters
I could spell the grime and give it value, decorate it with a little hair
What is the hair...an eye lash, pubic?
Nice!
A Wiki search, porn, YouTube
I think I see a fingernail in between "F" and "G"
I Googled the shit outta that one
Ew!
This keyboard is filthy

Brother

I remember the time...
When memories ran deep and the feelings were fresh and cold
Its been four years, way too long
I think I forgot the words to the song
I share his past and he mine, but we walked a different line
He came to visit, reminisce and climb a moment we both will miss
I loved him and now I love him
...I just remembered

The Champion

He had won. He was too old, an unknown, an underdog of such proportion that his winning could only be described as a miracle.
In his one and only media interview he was asked how he did it. He answered, "The only way that miracles exist is through doubt. I did what I did because I believed it. People who believed it was a miracle or otherwise,  doubted. I'm not special. I didn't find the cure for cancer, or save humanity from itself. All I did was swim one length of the pool really, really fast. It took hard work, tears, sweat and even blood on occasion. But I trained and lived in the now and never doubted that I could do it from moment to moment. I'm not a hero and I don't wish to be. I don't want money or fame. I just want to live my life alone and be happy. "
Then the interviewer pressed the Champion more and asked, "Is there a secret to success?" The Champion answered, "No."
The interviewer looked puzzled and asked, "What do you mean?" The Champion answered, "There's no secret only the illusion. You still doubt what I did otherwise you would accept it without question.  I've been accused of cheating, using drugs and even making deals with the devil, but the only thing I can be guilty of is a trick. I created an illusion in which I was a champion and I believed it. The trick was that you all doubted it. That's a miracle."

Windows and Tic Tac Toe

El Huachinango Rides Again!

Jen and I raced in the HYC Whistler Race this weekend and got dead last. Now you're probably asking yourself, "what is there to write about then?" Well, it was an adventure as the conditions worsened within 2hrs of the start and we had to take the "alternative" route.
The "alternative" route got us into close quarters of shoals, 70ft fishing vessels, crab pots, narrow channels and every possible marine obstacle one can imagine. All that was missing was the Kraken. The winds increased to 20knts with gusts to 25 and I chose to keep full canvas as long as possible since I am more competitive than prudent when racing. So, we had the rail buried in the water for most of the race. We finally ended up reefing the main after we began to take on water and we were still healing to 30 degrees, but at least we had the rail out of the water. The beat against the wind after rounding the buoy was a two hour slog of tacks that began to defy logic and sanity. All I could think about besides my back cramping up was a cocktail and muscle relaxants at the end of the race. Jen's thoughts were on hot soup, which she said should be prepared by all the yacht club "bitches" that weren't in the race. She was the only woman in the race by the way.
The 12 nautical mile course took us just under 4hrs and our boat speed was between 5-7knots the whole time. That should give you an idea of how much tacking and jibing was involved.

In the end there was no cheering crowds, no bells or whistles just the two Eds, the two salty yachtsmen both named Ed of the Humboldt Yacht Club who take first place in every club event, offering us a pity cocktail and telling us next time to finish sooner before everyone else goes home. Thanks Eds!

Sea Lion

Sea dog! Why are you so curious, checking me out?
I paddle away yet you keep coming about.
Go away man! I'm surfing here!
Why do you keep coming ever so near?
You're freaky big and bold
And I wish you did what you were told.
But you don't listen to me, because I'm not of the sea.
You push particularly gently like the lead in a dance.
I move elsewhere and give you a glance.
You're far away now and small as a dot.
I lost my pet and his name was spot.