Being the busy bee that I am and having other things to do online, I decided instead of keeping the site up and running, I took it down. All while saving the files.

Well, in a limited case I’m putting a definitive writing section back online. You can access it directly and you can also access it from the above menu by clicking WRITING.

Oh, and for the moment you can jump to the poems directly on the sidebar here on der Stonegauge’s main site. Some were never part of my collection on the old writings site and some were.

As things have been lately, I just get lazy and had let my face fill up with hair and then decide to shave… repeat x times and flirt with various ideas.

Well, the other day I started going through one of my Beatles Anthology CD cases and came across some of the Sgt. Pepper era John Lennon photos (specifically from the Strawberry Fields Forever video shoot). I realized my hair was a comparable length and my stubble was growing in once again. I decided to take a chance… I decided to risk it all….

I shaved under my lip and my chin and started growing handlebars.

And I’ve actually been out in public with this thing. Can you believe it?

Fortunatley I don’t have a picture to show you, but to be honest — it’s probably not going to be around long enough to turn into Paul Teutul’s massive handlebars.

It’s been a long, strange trip but in the 14 months I’ve been officially hostingSticks of Fire, it’s gone from blogspot hotspot to dot-com phenom. I knew at the time I approached Tommy about upgrading things that he had something great going on… Little did I know how much it would grow.

Tommy Duncan is probably the Bay area’s most unheralded media star. He gets invites to speak in various capacities (round table discussions, conferences, TV spots) and pretty much has Tampa covered with himself and his cast of supporting writers.

And now, Tommy has taken the next step by getting into a business alliance with Tampa Gold. When that officially kicks off, Tommy will be departing from my server space at Dreamhost and going to the land of far-far-away… Or on shared hosting package with Tampa Gold, take your pick.

I haven’t seen profit from hosting Tommy’s site and I haven’t requested payment for doing so. I never stuck in some personal reference (“Hosted by Dreamhost” etc) or anything like that… It made me feel good to be doing this.

But to just make a long story short, I want to wish my buddy well with his new venture and I hope it takes him where I couldn’t take him — to his rightful place at the to of local pop culture and beyond.

Oh yeah, and the fact I don’t want to bitch about personal things knowing people know this is my personal blog.

But I gotta bitch today because I’m looking for an old family friend… Or friends more like it.

In 1984..? I think that was it… I moved into a house in Blue Point, New York with my family… Nice ranch place with cedar shingles and brick accents. There was a nursery next door and it was a quaint, small town on Long Island… There’s a plethora of details about Blue Point or that house but none are pertinant to this tory besidse what I want to talk about.

One afternoon after moving in, I was inside doing one thing or another and my brothers were out back — giggling and acting really weird by the back fence. I went to investigate what was going on and I found out they were making a fuss about a girl (and her friend) in the next yard. Mike and Andy were acting anti-social in one way or another and I thought “What’s the big deal?” and started up conversation with the girls… This was the begining of a great neighborly friendship between the Fontana family and the Reilly Family.

The girl in question was Shannon. Shannon H. Reilly if I do so recall her middle initial. She was about the same age as my older brother and went to Blue Point elementary school (while me and my older brother were attending Sylvain Avenue Elementary in nearby Bayport)… Shannon was basically the fourth child of my parents while me and my brothers became children of Shannon’s parents. We really were interchangable children and would spend time playing at each others houses all the time (except when I got tugged into some type of disagreement between my older brother and Shannon). I believe her parents names were Mary “Mussy” Reilly and Rich.

Shannon would later have a little brother, Brian, who became the fifth partner in crime. Of course, Brian would be too young for most of the -adventures that we’d undertake but he was none the less part of the equation when we did something.

At any rate, I moved away from New York to the Tampa Bay area in January 1989. The Reilly’s were there to send us off. They’d later take a trip from their home in New York to Florida and make sure to stop to see us along the way.

But time and distance made things fade. We did end up visiting the Reilly’s after they moved to Massachusetts during the 1990′s (not far from Foxboro if I do so recall) … But after that I can’t recall much of anything – news or what not – of the Reilly family. I did not see Shannon at that mid-1990′s get together because she was still in New York, finishing school while staying with relatives. I do remember Brian was playing offensive line in football but… eh.

I wanna know whatever happened to Shannon? I want to knwo what’s up with the Reilly family and I hope everything is ok. It’s a shot in the dark trying to write a blog entry about them — but after I did research on various platforms trying to find them and failed… I thought this was at least worth a shot….

Pope John Paul II’s passing is sad mostly because this is a very famous person who has been in the spotlight, at the head of the Roman Catholic Church, for 26 years. I’m not saying that to ridicule the Pontiff, nor am I trying to insult or ridicule anyone by thsi regard. It’s just the first immediate observation of the Pope’s passing.

That being said, I’m getting sick of some of the covnersation on TV and have chosen to turn it off instead of watching news coverage of the Pope’s final hours.

“Father, What are Catholics feeling right now?” was asked a few dozen times by various news sources and it just seemed like the most ignorant, stupid quesiton that could be asked. Someone’s getting ready to die – someone famous, and they are askign what people – because that’s what catholics are, not some alien race – are feeling?

I wanted to hear the clergyman reply, “They’re upset — someone’s fucking died for heavens sake! Someone they may not have been that close too but someone who was famous died. But guess whatt!?!? Life goes on! They’re grieving but they’re living their lives, having weddings, working, etc…. Now please ask me something RELEVANT to the passing of a Pope! Something that leaves you with a shred of journalistic integrity… please?!”

I was stupid enough to go onto Scout.com (formerly FanHome) and read some fo the discussion that is going on with regards to the current Steroid Scandal in Major League Baseball and the fact Bary Bonds acknowledged using a creme that was loaded with Steroids…

“He did nothing illegal”

Let me get this straight, Barry Bonds and those like him — from Jose Canseco to Ken Camanitti to Jason Giambi and Gary Sheffield — have sullied the reputation and integrity of Major League Baseball to an extent far great than the Pete Rose betting scandal fo the 1980′s. They may have drawn the aw of fans by their feats but they have cheated for more than a decade at various stages in their careers.

Canseco had been a juicer for a while, Camanitti won the MVP whiel juicing. Giambi did the same… And the entire 1998 Home-Run Chase has been thrown into doubt. Say it ain’t so, Mark, say it ain’t so Sammy….

And someoen wants to say that Barry Bonds has doen nothing illegal?

Look at the children that look up to him — sickenly — and those who have been awed by him. Look at the money that thousands, if not millions, have invested in the Giants and in other Major League Baseball rpoperties while they have been led to believe these athletes have accomplished these feats on their own…. Some with their faith in God alone and some with raw skill. All of this is cast into doubt… “God was on my side, as was BALCO!”

It’s funny how I grew up lovign baseball in an age where 40 home runs was a grandoise feet. I hated Barry Bonds then and I continue to do so now… Ryne Sandberg was a respected but loathed adversary and Howard Johnson was the man, at least for me.

Sandberg hit 40 home runs and looked like a stick figure…. Howard Johnson was a 30-30 player and though he had a scruffy beard, he was virtually invisible compared to how Barry Bonds and other muscle-head players have looked the last 7 years.

Oh, and 1991 Barry? He looked like a lanky kid with the most pompous home-run poise to boot.

DOn’t defend Barry Bonds for his transgressions — and that’s what they are, transgressions. It’s time for him, Jason Giambi and others to sleep in the bed they made… And personally, I think a ban from baseball is the only thing that will do in this instance.

Today we had somewhere around 20 people over for dinner… well, 20 people would be a few too many but it fluctuated in the teens all afternoon. Uncle’s, my aunt, my cousin and her daughter, my younger brother (while Mike skipped out on things) and other family friends. It was a great get-together for the most part and I had a lot of fun with things.

I brought up what I am thankful for (“That I’m not lying in a hospital bed this year.” ) to a round of applause and through the liquor and the laughter I easily forgot where I was a year ago today or what I suffered through at the time (no, not surgery — watching George W. Bush and his faux visit to Iraq).

But someone had to ruin the day for me.

It wasn’t family – though their reaction did indeed bother me. It wasn’t friends of the family – though I notably started acting strange when some people showed up. No, it was the fact certain people turned up with both their kids in tote that I had problems with. I mean MAJOR problems. It basically ruined the evening for me….

The family pretty much embraced them and that made me further angry — as someone who has opened his arms after being stepped on and then gotten stepped on again, I couldn’t stand to watch this train wreck in action.

Speaking of train wrecks, I was happy to see Kylie was walking. Kylie being my cousin Amber’s daughter. I had gotten very upset during her first birthday party when I saw not only was she not walking but she looked like she wasn’t nearly ready for it. I’m glad I’ve been proved wrong on that one.

So… To summarize — a year later I am in good spiriits. I’m not wasting away in a hospital bed with only a friend at my side and a Subway sandwitch to eat. I’m happy I am spending time with my family and out and about… I’m thankful that I’m not having nightmares of someone’s blog or having Christmas Cards thrown out…

I’m thankful….

Plenty of time left elsewhere in America….

There will be rain if God wills it… Rain, baby, rain….

I was going over the site web logs – just sometime I do from time to time to see who is linked to Der Stonegauge or other sites I am in control of. I’ve been catching a lot of people who’ve been siphoning graphics lately, for example. I also check those logs for search phrases that are used on the Internet that leads people to this site. Sometimes they are strange terms, sometimes they are relevant because I have posts using those titles, sometimes they are explicitly (because I use 4 letter words in posts and other posts just happen to have the matching second keyword that some pervert typed into a Search Engine) and then some terms come out of the blue.

Here’s the one that made me do a double take:

he doesn’t want to talk to me

It got me thinking… It got me wondering…. Of course, I have no phrase use on the site that even comes close to that, and of course I have no clue who went on the Internet, typed that key-phrase on a certain Search Engine and got this site as a result, but it just jarred me a bit.

So I’ll humor myself here by just typing out why it may seem like “he doesn’t want to talk to me” to this person… And what the truth may be on why “he” seems the way he is.

I’m thinking about my own acts in the past that give the impression that I don’t want to talk to someone when the truth is that I would enjoy talking to them — if it didn’t hurt me. There’s only one person who I have this type of relationship with right now and it’s been like this for a year.

I would think that’s obviously one of the reasons why “he doesn’t want to talk to me” for certain women — hurt they’ve caused that push people away. Of course there are far more reasons out there that can be used to explain that phrase — a lack of confidence, a fight, a missed chance, a break up, just plain not knowing someone and low self-esteem telling you that they wouldn’t want to talk to you.

But the reality of “he doesn’t want to talk to me” is that you don’t know until you try. If it doesn’t work one way, do it another. Exhaust your means of getting to talk to the guy before you start pouting that they don’t want to talk. Don’t say they don’t until you try. If they end up saying to your face ‘I don’t want to talk to you” it’s best to just move on…

And for those who are like me that avoid talking to people because of hurt, there’s always a bigger story to things and it’s different for everyone — being used, being strung along, being lied to or deceived, having hearts broken by various incidents I can only imagine… Sometimes it’s fights, sometimes it’s the other side avoiding you for so long they don’t know what harm they caused themselves…

But to speak the reality again, you don’t know until you try… and you’ve got to try in all the means you know how instead of just hoping for things on your terms. If you really want to talk to him, you gotta penetrate the social wall around them.

On page 52 there is a preview for White Chicks and it’s Shawn “SW1″ Waynes and Marlon Waynes done up as white girls… and the thing is — before I saw the trailer, I honestly couldn’t tell these were people in make up… let alone African-American…. Let alone the Waynes Brothers who I have known from various entertainment endeavors for close to 15 years now.

This isn’t the picture in the magazine (which takes place in a dance club) but it gives you a ghist of the two guys in drag… Quite a transformation, no? Not just gender but color too…

I did more reading of Stupid White Men today and it made me think to run for political office this time.
It wasn’t the fact that Michael Moore said bluntly that you should run for office, it was the fact he ran for political office at the age of 18 – and won. Most of his platform was by addressing the teenagers who were like him. He ran against five adults. That’s a way to assure election – not addressing the issues as-so-much the fact that you address who you are specifically aiming for. Of course candidates have done that for years but at the same time they have exploited those groups to no end.

I also tried my hand at writing my non fiction piece again… I have four different topics that I started
working on, the “worst” of these is a journal entry lifted from here that I was going to edit (ironically enough, it’s The Phantom Edit Part 2 entry) as a possible article to submit to Lou and Long Ridge.

Bill’s been able to get in touch with me from Orlando and I’m really excited for the guy now – well, not too excited seeing he’s sitting next to the receptionists mother at work while he has a liking for the receptionist. At any rate, he has his apartment mostly hooked up to basic services now, he’s going to start moving this weekend
(he’s been living with Helene and Jim so far this week). I can’t stress how happy I am for him because he’s needed this change of pace in his life for a While.

So I’m sitting here thinking of various things and various actions and various people and various topics and various various and realizing I am using various too often and should get a thesaurus Worrying about
various various as well but I don’t want to get into that shit on here.

I met someone who lives near me two days ago on here — typical goth chick and all that jazz. We were having some pretty good conversation up until yesterday afternoon when I asked her what she prides herself in and she told me “Apathy”. She also ended up telling me how much she didn’t care and how she was proud of it… And then telling me how she didn’t even care for the conversation we were having…

That was a quick way to kill conversation with me and tell me you aren’t serious at all about relationships with anyone except yourself and whatever you do as your hobby — be apathetic about things. I mean, the girl was looking for someone to talk to and you get going with things and having an intelligent conversation is such a challenge with people you meet online and then you meet someone who actually talks with an IQ over 80 and you come to the conclusion you don’t care??? Great going, nice attitude and it was a real pleasure talking to you until you contradicted yourself by searching for conversation and not caring who or what you were talking to, or anything else for that matter.

Meanwhile I’m continuing to have the romantic thought of a small business or a business where everyone knows you and you know who you deal with… Like a small coffee shop in downtown Tampa where there is a market for places like that. As of right now, being in the suburbs, you don’t get that or don’t feel comfortable with the places you have. I had one place — the Java Jungle — where I used to hang out where I was comfortable with everyone and the atmosphere was great – just the location sucked for them. My dad’s cousin Linda and her husband Morgan have a place like that near San Francisco (small coffee shop) and it’s right around the corner from a Starbucks but they still have a loyal following.

I’d be content with something like that – but then again that takes money and that’s something I do not have any of right now.

Speaking of Downtown, I’m trying to explore ways to get my ass downtown and back… I never get a chance to just wander around down there and see the sights, it’s always zip-to-and-zip-back when I’m with people. Time for me to do stuff on my own if everyone is not going to take part in exploring