HOW I PLAN TO GET RICH
It's not complicated:
All you do is get on paypal and send me money at my paypal address: vgjohnson@wizwire.com
Simple, isn't it?
Then each day in this journal I'll report how much cash I've taken in and what I'm doing with it.
CASH COLLECTED SO FAR ---->>: $00.00.
I mean, come on, gang. Puhleeze!
TODAY'S LITTLE RANT
IF I WERE KING
WEATHER
GOLF
GARDEN
PETS
MAC TALK
MEDICAL DISASTERS
SEXUAL PREFERENCE
(I'm in favor of it)
Friday, December 31, 2004
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
MY REAL AUTOBIOGRAPHY (v.3)
I've prit near got it right this time
By Vince Longknocker Johnson
Before talking about my extraordinary dominance over everybody else in every possible activity, including horseshoes, I might as well start right out and tell you that I am the best damn golfer in California.
Having settled that subject to your complete stupefaction, I'm sure you now have a basis for understanding whom the hell you are dealing with and how to interpret my following remarks.
I am a 75-year-old retired camp cook. I spent 30 years cooking in wilderness camps all over Alaska and Montana -- but even though I achieved international notoriety in this endeavor I never did get those beans and sourdough breads just right.
After giving up on that dodge, I took up the writing game in newspapers and such.
For many years the literary production of my slashing pen withstood close inspection by astounded experts.
And to this day my boyhood chums are still trying to figure out how I rose so high when their careers fell in the ditch and they are to this day miserable failures -- especially Freddy Erickson and Miles Lang.
I'm on the net every day, maintaining correspondence with various odd balls and other family members.
My worst experience on the net was the time some character I had offended with a remark about his tree-swinging forebears mail-bombed me with subscriptions to over four thousand publications, from coon hunting to rock-polishing and earth worms. It took me a week to get out of that mess. I finally had to get a new email address.
More adventures later
LONGKNOCKER
I've prit near got it right this time
By Vince Longknocker Johnson
Before talking about my extraordinary dominance over everybody else in every possible activity, including horseshoes, I might as well start right out and tell you that I am the best damn golfer in California.
Having settled that subject to your complete stupefaction, I'm sure you now have a basis for understanding whom the hell you are dealing with and how to interpret my following remarks.
I am a 75-year-old retired camp cook. I spent 30 years cooking in wilderness camps all over Alaska and Montana -- but even though I achieved international notoriety in this endeavor I never did get those beans and sourdough breads just right.
After giving up on that dodge, I took up the writing game in newspapers and such.
For many years the literary production of my slashing pen withstood close inspection by astounded experts.
And to this day my boyhood chums are still trying to figure out how I rose so high when their careers fell in the ditch and they are to this day miserable failures -- especially Freddy Erickson and Miles Lang.
I'm on the net every day, maintaining correspondence with various odd balls and other family members.
My worst experience on the net was the time some character I had offended with a remark about his tree-swinging forebears mail-bombed me with subscriptions to over four thousand publications, from coon hunting to rock-polishing and earth worms. It took me a week to get out of that mess. I finally had to get a new email address.
More adventures later
LONGKNOCKER
GETTING IT ON IN LUCID DREAMS
What a Daredevil!
I’m about 150 pages into “Insomnia.” Took me a while to get going on it. I couldn’t see where King was going with the story or why I should care.
Now I’m at the part where the dream expert is talking about REM and lucid dreaming, which is something I know quite a bit about, having experienced dreams many times in which I knew I was dreaming. I get very brave in lucid dreams.
One time in a prison I got in a knife fight. What happened was, we were all milling about in the courtyard. There was a prisoner with a knife and he was looking at me. Somehow I knew I was supposed to fight him.
Even though I knew I was dreaming it was still pretty scary. Somebody passed me a shiv and I walked out and took the guy on. Don’t remember how it came out or who won. I must have been unable to face the reality, dreaming or not.
In another lucid dream I was standing on the rim of Half Dome, or El Capitan while wondering what would happen if I jumped off into space. What the hell, i don’t often get a chance to be a daredevil.
So I jumped off the cliff. What a disappointment! All I did was float, didn’t fall to the canyon floor.
When I was younger I used to be able to sit down in a chair with my eyes closed during the day and watch movies in my mind. The movies were set in places I had never been to -- and I could watch events I had never seen before.
I would still be wide awake, mind you, still know that I was sitting in a chair watching these movies that appeared out of nowhere right in front of me. Brilliant technicolor, the whole deal.
One time I was standing on a balcony in a palace, watching two 18th century dudes in a sword fight. It was all happening below me. The two duelists were really going at it with clashing swords. An amazing performance. All for my benefit.
The room they were fighting in had a marble floor and a very high ceiling. There were portraits of old guys in period costumes on the wall, and tapestries too. All very real. Like I said, a palace. Seemed to be in France.
Suddenly one of the guys got stabbed in the neck and at the same instant I felt something poke me hard in the neck. I jumped out of my chair, thinking that someone had poked me with a finger. I looked all around. There was no one there. I was pretty shook up I can tell you.
That’s why Steven King's “Insomnia” is now getting so very personal and interesting.
THE DREAMER
What a Daredevil!
I’m about 150 pages into “Insomnia.” Took me a while to get going on it. I couldn’t see where King was going with the story or why I should care.
Now I’m at the part where the dream expert is talking about REM and lucid dreaming, which is something I know quite a bit about, having experienced dreams many times in which I knew I was dreaming. I get very brave in lucid dreams.
One time in a prison I got in a knife fight. What happened was, we were all milling about in the courtyard. There was a prisoner with a knife and he was looking at me. Somehow I knew I was supposed to fight him.
Even though I knew I was dreaming it was still pretty scary. Somebody passed me a shiv and I walked out and took the guy on. Don’t remember how it came out or who won. I must have been unable to face the reality, dreaming or not.
In another lucid dream I was standing on the rim of Half Dome, or El Capitan while wondering what would happen if I jumped off into space. What the hell, i don’t often get a chance to be a daredevil.
So I jumped off the cliff. What a disappointment! All I did was float, didn’t fall to the canyon floor.
When I was younger I used to be able to sit down in a chair with my eyes closed during the day and watch movies in my mind. The movies were set in places I had never been to -- and I could watch events I had never seen before.
I would still be wide awake, mind you, still know that I was sitting in a chair watching these movies that appeared out of nowhere right in front of me. Brilliant technicolor, the whole deal.
One time I was standing on a balcony in a palace, watching two 18th century dudes in a sword fight. It was all happening below me. The two duelists were really going at it with clashing swords. An amazing performance. All for my benefit.
The room they were fighting in had a marble floor and a very high ceiling. There were portraits of old guys in period costumes on the wall, and tapestries too. All very real. Like I said, a palace. Seemed to be in France.
Suddenly one of the guys got stabbed in the neck and at the same instant I felt something poke me hard in the neck. I jumped out of my chair, thinking that someone had poked me with a finger. I looked all around. There was no one there. I was pretty shook up I can tell you.
That’s why Steven King's “Insomnia” is now getting so very personal and interesting.
THE DREAMER
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