Steak, Asparagus and the Band Next Door

First you’re probably wondering how an Executive Urban Hobo such as myself came to be eating steak and asparagus. No not ‘steak and vegetable ‘food product.’ The real deal.

Well, after receiving the obscene amount of a monthly stipend from SSD it’s time for grocery shopping. Asparagus on sale at $1.88 and two tiny filets wrapped in bacon for $3.97. I don’t purchase anything that isn’t on sale. Hear that Red? –grin-.

Aw, downsizing from Balducci’s and A&P bites heh.

Yes it was a splurge but we here at YoYo-Dyne have put on considerable weight after winning a huge loss after last’s year’s surgery. A tasty splurge.

Back to tuna, cheap ground beef and a bag of frozen chicken breasts to make the rest of the month. Oh how I’d love some fish..mmmmm fishies!

F’ing low carb diet is expensive on my ‘salary’ and a pain in the ass to prepare in the 45F kitchen at night.

Back to the topic. Slight derailment after speaking of a tasty meal. Uh huh.

Fell into a stupor after said tasty meal to be awakened by…The kids next door.

Have mentioned on prior occasion that I live in an old 1928 (drafty, impossible to heat, scary and dangerously wired, big-ass with the requisite spooky enormous basement) duplex. The architecture and lay-out make up for it, I assure you. In the Fall and Spring.

My neighbors are all members of a band. Actually two bands. One’s a sort of Rockabilly. the other Punk. Have played in other bands with two of the neighbors, when we practiced in my basement. Our lead singer and guitarist used to live in this place.

Now their bands practice in their basement. More fried-to-a-crisp electrical cords, small electrical fires and fuse blow-outs on their side now. Told you, this place is old and the circuits prevent the use of a toaster (or space heater) or practice Peavy amp use at the same time. It’s all fun and games until you’re outside in your bathrobe/fleecy sweats and T-Shirt in the snow, at the back of the house, at 7:00 am in 12F weather outside in snow because your Demon Seed is  home from college and uses the microwave and two lamps at the same time..

Second Derail Apology:  This means I can hear everything up from the floor and through the walls when it’s practice time; which sucks on Sunday morning I can tell ‘ya.

They put up with the concert grand piano,  MIC’d vocals, and occasional jam session in the living room on my side so it works out. Yes, we DO blow the damned circuits in the living room too. I blame my bass player friends.

Who doesn’t?

From my nommy stupor tonight I hear a new tune (for best acoustics the bathroom is highly recommended; you can hear the trumpet and banjo far more clearly). These guys play all originals, in both bands. Caught my ear tonight with the sounds of a fave Old 97’s tune ‘Wont’ Be Home’

Dig this tune. Also dig my sleep. It did compel me to make a cocktail though and wake up. Whoop. Can be up all night tonight. Just as well actually.

About 300 blog notifications again…behind. That’s the least of the nasty news today so in reality the tune made my day.

So a shout-out to The Kids Next Door. And their 5 peeps packed into a two bedroom ancient duplex, basement electrical smoke, other tasty smelling smoke, and smiling, wonderful companionship on warm summer nights sharing the porch..

Back to your regularly scheduled madness.

~Miss R

A post from 5:00 am -or- The Day The Earth Turned Day-Glo

Enjoy the subtitle best. Nothing like Germ Free Adolescents for this piece. And yes I WAS a punk before you were a punk.

Okay what provoked the last 80’s classic punk tune references?

The joys of my being a (actually 18 year old) teenager combined with my mom and abject horror. No not the cool and dulcet Dexter kind where you see mom hacked to death. We should all be so lucky. So, clearly the point  of this post is my discovery cure for cancer. Not really. Need to call Hawking, go through his bullshit excuses (but I can’t waaaaalk Rachee!).
All he needs to do is present my paper to a peer reviewd group. Status but really? The gut wrenching laughter he inspires in my cold black heart. Knee-Slapper.

It’s the generational freakishness that so many are bereft of experiencing in their lives.

ADDED BONUS FEATURE:

utter creepiness, probable onset of a manic state and -are you ready?- SEX SEX SEX and FREE BEER!!! * (valid only in mainly Muslim populated countries and most of Utah)

I haven’t slept in  48 hours, haven’t had so much as a beer in the last week or so, and have not experienced a true manic episode for close to 15 years. The times it has occurred during those last 15 years have always been due to a badly conceived and mixed cocktail. Of medication. Prescribed by  physician.

The meds not prescribed by  doctor (at least to me) are donated to favorite charities: Save the Whiners: Rush Limbaugh CEO , Ahmnodt Heare for President Campaign (he uses ALL donations to help the less fortunate. Obtain sexual favors and/or votes from strippers, whores and/or mostly the same; lobbyists.  The crap dealers in Fabulous Las Vegas!  Pets! And my all time American charitable foundation : Votes From the Texas Deceased and Legalized Euthanasia for all politicians who have been CEO’s of conglomerates, any attorney running for office,  Real Estate Developers and anyone else who -by consensus of Ahmnodt’s Board of Directors and noted Psychiatrists–  Religious Nuts and people who should be considered sub-moron but now proclaim their ‘gentlemanly C grade average’ at Yale.

Rush Limbaugh is a Big Fat Idiot by Al Franken

Do you even comprehend the fiscal conservatism of this candidate? From ALL parties.

A Typical YoYo-Dyne manic episode (no employee names can be used due to pending litigation)  usually manifests  symptoms in the following manner:  Sleep deficit, grinding each particle of debris and enamel from teeth, a thorough cleaning under the bottom of tables with toothbrushes and Murphy’s ois soap, overeating to the point of re-joining the Scarf and Barf Club,  re-arrange the ant hills in the front yard, rearrange  the utensil drawer..34 times, and oh shit look at the time. Still have to comb the carpets and vacuum the cat.

Creepiness and SEX SEX SEX!

Remember that cursed time when you had 5 or 6 friends over to visit and party between school breaks? You lived in a dorm on campus, so stayed with mom and her husband during vacation. The night EVERY ONE of your friends heard  the moaning of sexual pleasure emanating from my mother. Outside with hubby. In the hot tub. I was 18 remember? Completely scared for life.

Until that fab memory came back to haunt me like a Donner Party member with bad table manners. And usurped mom’s status.

Just as I was positive I could sleep (after 3 sleeping pills) it dawned on me that I could hear my daughter, my beloved Demon Seed, and her (strictly uncommitted on her part, and he has accepted it) Reno beau -playing the music REALLY loudly for 3:00 am in her bedroom.

Too loud. Got up to brush my teeth (count for today: 6 brushings) and immediately understood why the music was so loud. Yes. SEX.  Loud, headboard pounding sex.. and worse the sounds my naive and wallflower daughter was, well, moaning.

Not sure what’s more fucked up and deserved of 72 hours with no sleep. But the synchronicity factor between hearing mom doing the nasty and my daughter doing the ‘wonder where she got it’ freak on nasty haunted me. Poste Haste.

Hear I sit… loony from lack of sleep, possible onset of mania (whoa dude have you ever SEEN my Marie Antoinette outfit? The Napoleon version I’d had made up upon my diagnosis is just, too, well dykish for me. I’d be a lipstick lesbian if I switched teams permanently.  And oh fruit of my loins you are already happily bi-sexual. At 11 she looks up at me and says ‘Mommy I think I’m bi’. Please realize that she was a late bloomer and couldn’t even look at her OWN naked body until 9 months ago). I said ‘that’s great  honey. I want you to be happy! She skipped off quite pleased.

She already  knew many of my friends were/are queer. Hell, I’m a musician. Who got her professional (or in my case unprofessional -rim shot-) start playing piano and singing at gay and lesbian bars in the Los Angeles area.

Get To the Fucking Point Already!

Tried to pass along the import ideals to my daughter. She hates no one. Unless a particular jackwagon pisses her off.

But but but THE MOANING and Headboard banging.. and being humiliated in front of friends who had known  my mom for years. It Burns. IT BURNS.

Well, will never get any sleep now, almost time to make the coffee. OH GOD MAKE IT STOP. My MIND WOULD BE A GREAT PLACE TO WASTE right now. Oh god orgasms coming (don;t even think it) from two people I NEVER wanted to hear them from… Age 18…in college. Hand me that Xanax!

Oh dear god they’re at it again. Bed Bounce, How nice. Oh, please shoot me I’m only the piano player

~Just Another Run of the Mill Mom and Daughter in Reno…. but you may continue to address me as

~Miss R

addendum: IT BURNS OH DEAR GOD

 

Image of the Week. BRAAAAAIIINSSSSS

Saw comments on this pic stating that the kid was disturbed. Sorry: this kid is the only creative and intelligent kid in the class. How the fuck can you be president or an astronaut at the age of of 110?
Yes those were the other answers and drawings from this class.

This kid is almost as cool as the Demon Seed. Almost

 

10 Things You Didn’t Know About Me

One of the requirements for accepting the  Most Versatile Blogger Award is to list 10 things no one knows about you. Whoa. What a diversion from the title of this post.

1. Graduated from high school at age 15. Started college at age 14. Graduated with a BFA in Music Performance at age 20.

2. Was known as an idiot in college by acting my age

3. Created, grew and designed a brick and mortar store plus e-commerce site that made me shit loads of money while your kids were in kindergarten. Lost it all by marrying… too many times.

4. Once won a game of Trivial Pursuit, against 6 other players, in a complete drunken black-out. Had no idea I’d actually played the game until informed the next day by the hubby. That would be the first one. Husband, not black out.

5.  My cat cheats at poker. Biatch has opposable dew claws

6. Could live on escargot, fresh french bread, fresh aspraragus and beef tar tare….for life. Will kill. sorry work,  for tasty food.

7. Own more than 10  furs. Fur is not murder. Fur is fucking warm. Mink coat, ermine throw, fox neck-throw, silver fox 3/4 jacket… FUCK YOU PETA. They’re all vintage  but hey I dig ’em. Did I mention my feelings towards PETA?

8. Daughter has been a vegetarian since age 11

9. My nipple jewelry is WAY cooler than yours

10. Designed and had my only tattoo 18 years ago. Way before any other woman in my town or probably yours. I feel far superior to any ass (literally) with a tramp stamp.

11. (Extra Credit) My humility is only outdone by my size five foot fitting comfortably into my mouth

The Versatile Blogger Award

I’d like to thank the Academy

Most Versatile Blogger Award

The Versatile Blogger Award

Was stunned and surprised to be nominated -which means winning and what beats  that?- The Versatile Blogger Award. Big thanks to El Guapo; king of Guapola, all that is pointless on the Internet and music music music.

Would also like to thank my producer, Mom and Dad, cinematographer, my Burning Man family (that make me look 20 years younger than my age), my Mom for being a Luddite and being unable to read the crap I write, my daughter for being herself and of course any small mammals  cogent enough to vote.
Not all of them, as most have no taste whatsoever, but there are also several invertebrates that should be included as well. You know who are!

Let me make this short since I can see some bastard with a hook stage left.

Have no idea why I’ve been nominated three times but MUST thank the nominators. Let’s give them all a hand shall we? Not to mention a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue as a thank you and obvious bribe for next year’s nomination

-Cue applause-

So let me present tonight’s nominees…

Which have been kept strictly confidential and contained in this
mayonnaise jar hermetically sealed by Price-Waterhouse.

YoYo-Dyne’s Nominations….in no fucking order whatsoever

  1. Refrigerator Magnate : SIG, have no idea if you’ve been nominated before or not, but your photos and use of graphics make me cry. In a very good way.
    Amazing.
  2. Celluloid Blonde: The Sometimes Suspect Musings of Max Adams.  If you don’t know Max you don’t know nottin’. President and Lead Professor of LA’s prestigious Academy of Screenwriting and a damned hoot as a blogger and human being.
  3. Ahmnodt Heare for President. Not only does Ahmnodt have his own site, as an obvious independent politician (Ahmnodt here for America! Ahmnodt here for you!) This blogger tackles subjects ranging from family values (okay his own family) to gardening in the DC area. Vote and remember…. Ahmnodt Heare!
  4. While Vegas Sleeps. My fabulous alter-ego and southern neighbor Chris details all of the places you want to hit…and avoid, in Vegas. Being a Nevadan this is an important part of life. His blog is so well read in Vegas that he has many Guest bloggers as well. Check it out before throwing all of your money on to Flamingo Blvd. and the Strip. As I do….
  5. Swimming Upstream. Not depressed? Not Bi-Polar? Too bad for you! Not to mention the lack of soup. This writer tackles everything from mental illness to just being hysterically mental. Check him out. Take a fishing vacation…
  6. Confessions of a Serial Insomniac. All I can say is… Pandora rocks. Looking for a topic? It’s here. Looking for a bitch-slap to your personal beliefs? It’s here. Looking for a friend and ear to listen? It’s here.
  7. All of the other bloggers who have nominated me. Damn! Everyone I read has something that touches me or I wouldn’t bother. If I didn’t mention you please contact me. I’ll add you. Until then this list isn’t complete. After all it’s late.

Next Verse Same As The First

Okay supposed to list 10 things no one knew about me. Screwed up and deleted it. Trust me it WAS damned funny.

Yet true.

More tomorrow. Time to make cookies.

~Miss R

Addendum: Barkinginthedark was the first to nominate me. Stop on by and check out his writing and music; not to mention proofreading genius

The Remainder of The Day…

Put a classical, Yo-Yo Ma, or soothing  CD on the stereo or iPod.
Relax your entire body.
Sit back, close your eyes, and come with me to enjoy: The Remainder of the Day…

.

.

.

.14159265

Thank you. thank you very much.  Tip your waitress and don’t forget to try the veal

~Miss R

Annual Gluttonous Genocide Gala!

Or as we call it here in the U.S….. Thanksgiving!

rocky horror thanksgiving

I plan on celebrating with a Marie Calendar’s Pot Pie (not that kind of pot.  Just as well as there are no Doritos or Mountain Dew in the house), a few Frescas and later something stronger. Something a lot stronger. That originates in Ireland. Reminds me, there are a few beers in the fridge.
Hold on. Be right back.

Ah, that’s better. So readers eat, drink, be merry. Or if you’re Eddie Izzard be Mary -rim shot-.
For any seriously moronic people get some sleep in too.. you’ll need it. After all, come  Midnight you’ll be in line at Wal-Mart or Macy’s waiting to save that 25 cents on socks!

Miss my daughter but she’ll have a good day with her dad and old friends from High School. I plan on a good day as well.

So let’s all bless our country’s founders, their unswerving commitment to eradicating all of the indigenous people, and of course that greatest of American traditions: A parade!
Wait that’s not it. Over-Eating! yep that’s the phrase.

Pro-tip: Now is the perfect time of year to take up a new hobby. I personally recommend Bulimia.
Easy to learn, a lifetime to master.

Happy Thanksgiving!

~Miss R

Seasonal Serial Killer Disorder

In the last month I’ve survived the end of the world, dad’s birthday (he’s been gone for 3 years now but it’s still painful as hell), a nasty epidural from The Butcher, my kid stressing over her freshman college midterms, my boyfriend packing to move out (even though I asked  him to), male pattern baldness and iron poor blood.

Alright, a few of these may be imagined. Or cured with Geritol. Geritol ad courtesy of Welk Family blog at Blogspot

Why is it that Fall begets stress? Similar to a Cinemafia conspiracy worthy of Oliver Stone.

Decided to do some scientific research to answer the burning question:

Why does the beginning of Fall initiate the beginning of Stress, Cold and Flu Season?

Besides the obvious immediate climate change here in Reno, Nevada.

Our state slogan: No Fall. No Spring. No Soup for you.

damned snow all winter..in the DESERT

Move to the Desert! The Weather is Here. Glad You're Not?

Here’s what I’ve come up with, based on said scientific research. A poll of random Reno-ites, taken over the period of no determinate time, geographical location in the city and particularly no control group. If you’ll note I said scientific and not the scientific method.

The Question posed to our random sampling of the citizens of Reno was:

Why Does Fall Instigate Your Inner Serial Killer?

Here are a few randomly chosen answers:

  1. All I can think about is the money my husband brings home and how we’ll pay for my Halloween candy, my birthday presents, other people’s birthday gifts as well of course, my Thanksgiving dinner, my Christmas gifts and of course what is going to be left after all of that? What about my bon-bons? Do you have my remote?
  2. What does that mean? Serial Killers? Get the hell away from me
  3. Well I don’t like the snow or driving in it. It brings all of the aliens up from Roswell and Rachel to Reno. Haven’t you noticed the radical lack of tin foil during the upcoming cold months?
  4. If you don’t get off this here property I’ll shoot ‘ya where you stand
  5. As a journalism graduate student at UNR my answer is, uh, ummm, you know like it’s just, ah, stressful.
  6. If you don’t get off this here property I’ll shoot ‘ya where you stand
  7. I LOVE the Fall and beginning of winter. And of course being from California originally we’re used to serial killers
  8. I don’t know. When my husband gets home I’ll ask him what we think.

There were at least 100 respondents and it was discovered that the small sample above was representative of them all.

In Conclusion:

Inhabitants refuse to embrace their Inner Serial Killer, which is sad and may explain the morbid obesity rampant in the city. The vast majority of citizens in Reno are armed with unregistered firearms and WANT to shoot you on sight. Civil Rights of any kind seem to have stopped eight to ten hours south of this place. Or perhaps 30 years. Do NOT send your kids to University of Nevada Reno. There is a ratio of 8 nutters to 10 non-nutters in our city’s populace.

So I’ve found the succinct answer to the question, seasonal stress, urge to kill and iron poor blood.

Move.

~Miss R

It’s the End of the World Tomorrow! -Again-

It was recently announced –by some dingbat- that we no longer have to wait until 2012 to self-destruct. You know those Mayans, they never could count correctly.

Here are a few other idiot’s (read: delusional money-grabbing usually invented-their-own religion) End of the World Predictions.

Idiot Listings and predictions:

  1. 1.    Christians. The entire religion was originally built around the idea that Christ (the short Jewish Rabbi guy) would be resurrected during their lifetime. Ooops. They had to wait until the 1960’s when I was born. Hence my middle name Christine.
  1. 2.      Your friendly local Jehovah’s Witness door pounders. These guys have gotten it wrong so many times that this religion pretty much died out in the 1920’s. They’re baaaack (Knock knock. Who’s there? A pamphlet describing the earth deteriorating and hoping for the end of the world! –SLAM-). Here are the dates they have previously announced to their followers: 1914, 1915, 1918, 1920, 1925, 1941, 1975 and 1994. So far. Fun Fact: the founder of this religion sold ‘Miracle Wheat’ at hugely inflated prices, promising an unearthly growth potential. Which is odd as he then asked his congregation just a few years later to join him on a mountain top. Because the world was ending.
  1. 3.      Y2K. Ah, remember the year preceding this when a huge portion of the population began to stockpile food, firearms, water and batteries? Oh, and the Internet was to be the cause of our world collapse. You couldn’t even tell these believers that changing the dates for upcoming millennium had begun at least a year prior. Not just billion dollar Wall Street and Forbes 500 corporations had already rendered a simple fix, but so did every small business owners with a brain. Me for example.
  2. 4.      Edgar C. Whisenant: Prediction was September 11-13, 1988. Okay this is sad. The poor bastard was a NASA engineer…but also a rapture nutball. He wrote two books, one covertly named ‘88 Reasons Why The Rapture is in 1988. ‘ When that Rosh Hashanah passed with no incident he recalculated his dates and numbers taken from the Bible and announced September 15. Then October 3. He kept re-calculating until his end of the world in 2001. Fun Fact: He announced “Only if the Bible is in error am I wrong; and I say that to every preacher in town.” And a LOT of people took him seriously, including The Christian Trinity Broadcast Network (TBN). The station aired special instructions on preparing for the Rapture as the end date approached.
  3. 5.      The whole Mayan prediction for next year. Seriously? The fact that a civilization that flourished between 1000 BCE to circa 400 CE even bothered to create a calendar reaching to far into the future isn’t interesting enough for you?
    There’s plenty of crap –sorry meant information- available on that floating about. Books, TV, Internet. Look it up yourself.

So, I could go on and on and on ad infinitum. These are just a TINY number and I’m only going back through the last century. There was Haley’s Comet, Hale-Bop (got your roll of quarters and arsenic ready?) and literally hundreds more. All were taken seriously by large numbers of people.

The world will end. Just not in our lifetime. Unless I decree it of course.

Tune in Later for ‘Get your Dancing Shoes On! –a playlist for any rapture or end of the world scenario you’d care to choose.

The iPod is charging up as we speak.

~Miss R

Alright Alright: New project started

Have decided to attempt an activity which may help revive and give life some slight meaning. It requires a skill set that I used to be paid for. Most times handsomely and regularly. Occasionally totally stiffed on.
Goddamned web illiterate cheap bastard loser pointless mind-changing private clients.

Due to my current physical condition, depression and attention span; which is currently less than Lizzie Borden’s (my cat who is too inbred to kill anything) this project will take at least 10x longer than the good old days. Which is why it has nothing to do with commerce either. That and a true inability to work or concentrate. Good god look there. A piece of lint on the floor! Oops sorry. Remember kids: OCD and Genius are only a tiny portion on the list of crazy that inhabit this body.

Dammit. Just remembered that the salt and pepper shakers need to be aligned on the kitchen counter as well.

Said project is a new website. Yep, used to write code, design sites, piss off clients and a huge media corporation without being fired due to a sick sense of humor, and do all the SEO as well. At one point worked as a Web Mistress for Warner Brothers before eventually moving to an Executive Producer. Then worked for private clients.

Prior to that I created, wrote the witty and catchy copy, designed graphics, leaned new codes and Flash, helped write, BETA test and used a new shopping cart software, and learned it all on my own. Remember GeoCities and a book entitled ‘HTML for Dummies?’ What the hell did I know except business, finance, music and a devout hatred, and exhaustion, of corporate culture?
Learned it all beginning in 1995 to have an e-commerce portion of Cabin Fever; the retail store(s) I owned, worked and succeeded at for 10 years.

Northern Michigan location of Cabin Fever

you wonder why I called the stores Cabin Fever? Heh.

The new site will involve a certain subject which is interesting, amusing, and in the past generated loads of emails. Most of them unintentionally hysterical. Of course the best (read ‘worst’) were culled and posted. I replied in the normal way. You know… totally slamming the writer without them realizing it. Loads of laughter ensued. From visitors who read that page of the site, but myself… of course.

That’s all I’ll say for now. Got the domain name and hosting taken care of today. Some fucktard took my old domain name during the 4 years the entire site has been down. Most of the pages for the portion which is being resurrected (It’s a miracle! Praise Flying Spaghetti Monster!) have been lost/destroyed/stolen by Ancient Astronauts and innocent victims of computer crashes.

Let’s see if it can be done shall we? And thank Mom for giving me an early birthday gift of the money to purchase the hosting  package.

Betting Pool starts today. Sign up with your local bookie. Or better yet, I’ll hold your money using an escrow type of situation. For legal purposes we’ll refer to it as the  lingerie drawer.

~Miss R

Physics Explained!

We here at YoYo-Dyne apologize for the cancellation of our guest speaker tonight.

Stephen Hawking could not be here as he has discovered that his local Chinese restaurant now offers online ordering.
Frankly, once he gets going he may never leave his chair. Too bad he had already vacated the one at Cambridge. Probably far more comfy.

So tonight we will be dark and doing investigative research work on the top secret branch of the Reno Manhattan Project.

Manhattan Project

~Miss R

Returning to the Scene of the Crime

It was a very impromptu camping trip this past weekend.

No it wasn’t to an out of town, country or local  Burning Man DeCompression.

It’s Frogbat at 4th of Juplaya 2011

These are held in cities from San Fransisco, to Reno, to LA, to NYC, to Sydney, to London to Prague and hell I can’t even count them all. Burning Man encompasses all countries, religions, political ideologies, creeds, hippies (-shudder-) and attorneys (-shudder again-). Exception for the cool lawyer in our camp.

Speaking of which here is info for the official Reno DeCompressionReno Decom.

No, this weekend wasn’t 4th of Juplaya relived either.

Geographically  it WAS the Scene of …many crimes! All amusing, fabulous,weird, wondrous, occasionally illegal and normally accomplished in various states of undress…Black Rock Desert and Frog Pond.

Despite our unorganized arrival and gear I made it through this weekend at the Black Rock Desert playa and Frog Pond  unscathed. There was a small dust storm that rolled in as we did.  Nothing like a white-out at Burning Man. Just very windy and we got a bit of natural exfoliation.

Let me add that I knew nothing about our camping foray until the day before. Happened to look at my boyfriend’s FB and he had announced it, about 48 hours hours earlier. which would have been great if I made a daily habit of looking at his FB page. Which I don’t. -face palm-
The Frog Pond pools and hot spring are surrounded by trees and tiny dunes that keep it a bit sheltered from the playa dust and high winds. Although most of our gear is already playa-ized from previous Burns and playa excursions.
Sadly the wind was just gusty enough that on Sunday that we got hardly any shooting in. No dust, just screwed on any chance of hitting a designated target.

Saturday afternoon and evening we soaked in the springs and met a few other campers. Including Naked Bob; a Burner for 19 years where he has given back to the Burner community by working the exodus; 50,000 people leaving Black Rock City at pretty much the same time. Yikes.
He looks to be about 70 and was at Frog Pond for the solitude, stark beauty of the playa, and to pass along a few nuggets of wisdom if approached. Of course there was a family with 5 kids that were surprised -but not freaked- to see people in the springs au natural. They avoided us for the remainder of the weekend.

Despite the winds Steve cooked dinner and I made us cocktails. Sunday we walked back to the shooting range -about 1/4 mile- to where Frog Bat is blown up at 4th of Juplaya. Frog Bat is a 12 or 14 foot replica of a frog and bat (hard to believe given the name) filled with propane cylinders.
On Saturday night of the July 4th weekend, instead of watching The Man burn, everyone comes off the playa with their firearm of choice, then shoots the hell out of Frog Bat until it explodes. Possibly a reason this event is not sanctioned by Burning Man.

Lots of remnants of art cars over there in the shooting range and Frog Bat area.  There are also stray propane canisters totally shot up and a few not blown up (which Perry blowed-up real good). The small dunes of the shooting range emit a kind of cool, sad, ghost town eerie kind of vibe. Had my iPod on and between the music (Zero 7), weather and spooky/beautiful way this area looked I was fascinated. This is one of the two experiences that made the weekend worth the trip.

Frog Pond hot spring and campfire ring

Frog Pond hot spring and campfire ring. Enticing eh?

The other high point was floating on my back, in the hot springs, looking up at all the stars. After a great rib-eye steak cooked over an open campfire and several small plastic tumblers of a good single malt scotch. Or PBRs if you were Steve or Perry.
Tried to explain to Perry and Steve that camping does not mean living like an animal. Especially after I woke up in the back of Frank, short for Frankenstein, Perry’s truck.

Frank is made up of several different manufacturers’ body and engine parts. And looks like it. Frank has a new $25.00 camper shell now. By new I mean 20 years old and found via Craigslist sitting on the ground at a Red Rock ranch for 10 years. Embellished with dirt, dead bugs, cobwebs and rotting wood interior.  Hey, it was new to us. Should have known P hadn’t actually cleaned it out. Anyone have a shudder left in them? How about a gag reflex?

Springs were a wonder for my back! Cut back on the pain meds the first night.
Sadly the lack of suspension on the fucking truck (sorry Frank) on the way home -and being squished between Perry and Steve over the gear shift, huge hump where the gearbox is, a tachometer box and wiring that Perry installed and no AC- dialed my back pain to 11.

So I am re-hydrating, watching a movie on Netflix, smoking a ciggie, propped up on the bed and going between heating pad and cold packs (freezer burned but useful broccoli) for the back.
And ignoring the vile camping dishes, laundry and gear in the basement.

Interesting and relaxing weekend all in all. And no I won’t tell you where the springs are.
Unless you’ll loan me a clean trailer or RV.

~Miss R