“Out here in the fields…
I fought for my meals.
I get my back into my livinnn’.

I don’t need to fight
To prove I’m right.
I don’t need to be forgivennn.

Yeah yeah yeah yeah
YEEEAH-uh.”

(I be hollerin’ these righteous lyrics while on errands in my pickup truck.)

My bestest Butch bud really loves good music, but didn’t even recognize *Freebird*. Can you imagine such!?! How did hie ever break up with a girl without knowing Freebird? Hie is ten years younger than me. I just wanna burn a like bazillion CDs and make that boi breathe that good old shit for a day.

And my most favorite, sweetest fag friend… finally got him stoned and the stick fell right out of his ass. He was cured. In between laughing like “huh huh huh” all night Beevis and Butthead style, he says… “Wow, I finally get 70’s music.” Yeah, the frikken PetShop Boys and the Thompson Twins? Their hearts are not hanging out, homo.

All that whiney alternative killed rawk n’ roll, yanno. The last good band was Guns n’ Roses or maybe the Black Crowes. Rap is the only thing with an edge these days. And some old Delta blues.

“I got my mojo werkin’
but it ain’t werkin’ on youuu.”

Chris heard me singing and carrying on, and she just told me I am not as cool as her.

Pfft. Riiiiiiight.

Everyday Élan Vital | No Comments »

A coupla posts down, I was salivating over a beautiful oak artist’s taboret, wishing the magic gift fairy would drop ship.

Well, you know what my sweet baby went and did? She surprised me with a Happy Daddy’s Day card tonight at midnight, and I be danged if Chris ain’t a closet fairy. LoL Inside the card was a receipt from the internet for that very taboret! Is that sweet or what?

I am sure I will have that taboret with me for my whole life. Thank you, darlin’, for such a special gift. I sure am a lucky phuque to have such a sweet babygrrl. You are a real treasure, yanno that?

Love
Daddy

Everyday Élan Vital | No Comments »

I quit smoking 14 times over the last four years or so, but I always kept an ashtray or two for guests. Yeah, right. Now my ashtray is full of Marlboros YET AGAIN. My buddy came to visit. We always have to do some sort of evil away from the girls. He had been trying to quit, too. The lying wicked nicotine demon whispered to both of us it would only be for the weekend, and I fell for it YET AGAIN. I smoked all week. And I know I have to quit YET AGAIN.

The first ten or so cigs you smoke after you have been clean are no relief. In fact, you feel absolutely poisoned after the first hit, naseuous, slow, sick, stinky. The compulsion is stronger than the distate of being poisoned. You get used to that sick feeling again.

I wish it wasn’t bad for me. I wish I could just fucking smoke, but I know I can’t. I am a biggo fat fucker about to turn 40, and I know smoking will kill me. I tell myself that I enjoy the break that smoking gives me, the pause, the few minutes to contemplate, the few minutes smoking gives me out on the deck with Chris.

But that is a bald fucking lie. It is like 100 degrees outside, swarming with mosquitos. Texas summers are miserable, but I am out smoking in it, stinking like Off spray and still getting chewed.

AND CHRIS CHEATED! We quit together every time, but then baby always cheats. LOL I saw the ashes all over her car, and the mints, and the lighter. My biggest motivation is that I don’t want my baby to smoke. And it felt so unfair that I was beating back this ugly demon while my partner was smoking in secret. Isn’t that crazy? My brat is very self-indulgent. I am the one who can deny myself all things. My setting this example was all in vain? YET AGAIN? After she promised?!!?? Well, fuck it!

Smoking with coffee in the morning, smoking with buddies while drinking beer, being outside at parties with the other smokers, where the real party is at… the crinkle of the cellophane on a new pack, popping it against the back of my wrist…. NO!

Nicotine? It is the devil, I tell you.

The way I gotta go about these things is to re-enlist in the fucking army and roll my meanie drill sargeant on out for boot camp. DROP THAT FIRE STICK, MAGGOT! There are no gray areas in Rhon’s boot camp, and it’s not for sissies.

I am going out for a cigarette while I think about that…

Everyday Élan Vital | 1 Comment »

::: trying not to squeel like my Christine in the shoe store::

LOOK AT THIS ARTIST’S TABORET ya’ll!!!

It is so beautiful… I cannot breathe.

Wheels and everything!?!?!?! It should have racing stripes or flames… check the flipup side thingy with the biggo steel cups for turp. Wow. But alas, I am a classic cheapass and a poor artist to boot. This is $419. Dang.

I will probably buy an unfinished nightstand at the raw wood furniture place and attach wheels from Homo Depot. And maybe tack a piece on the side and drill a hole for a cup to hold my turpentine, and put a sheet of glass on top to mix my paint on.

Or maybe Medusa’s lipstick mystery monkey will send it to me like a dream fairy?! Ha. I am putting the picture under my pillow.

Everyday Élan Vital | No Comments »

Welp, we finally finished up construction on the new studio yesterday, and I have to say, the room looks even better than I had ever envisioned. Emet leveled the old shed floor with concrete before tiling, and now it looks perfectly sturdy and straight. I snagged one of those “oops” cans of paint at Home Depot for $5 which turned out to be a perfect shade of sunny tan against all the bright white crown molding and base molding. I hung gauzy white curtains on a fat white pole all along the back wall windows, just to soften the hard edges a little. Set my easel and stuff up in one corner and and added a comfy old overstuffed chair and ottoman slipcovered in white in another with a little table and lamp for reading. Emet put in new track lighting and a new white ceiling fan. Scooted Miz Chris’s exercise bike in. Everything so virgin clean. Sunny. Fresh. ZEN!

After cleaning up a month’s worth of construction, me and Emet and his goofy ass helper ended the blistering hot day sitting in my new garage and splitting a six pack of Dundees Honey Brown, marveling at how awesome the whole project turned out. Emet got kinda sentimental on me. Heh, that silly fucker is sure gonna miss me. I’m going to miss him, too.

Since that first brew tasted sooooo damned good, I wound up sitting in my rocking chair on my deck late into the night … sipping beers, listening to some good old southern rock/blues, and just enjoying my backyard. You know how it is when the yard is all clean, trimmed and swept? My baby was there relaxing with me, rocking in her matching chair, drinking her diet sodas. We weren’t talking a whole lot, just mostly singing softly and smiling at each other every now and then when a certain song reminded us sweetly of one of our past adventures. Aw, what a stellar night. It seems the two of us are always so damned bizzy these last few years, there aren’t enough hours to just be old content married folk. I really treasure those quiet times touching hearts with my Chris.

My deck will see more action today, and my grill will likely be smoking, too. Some of my favorite folks are driving up to visit for the weekend, and we are going to go see the largest Salvador Dali exhibit that has ever traveled. My buddy is also a painter, and I can’t wait to show hir my new space.

In between all this construction craziness, we did a rather substantial upgrade on all the software that runs Butch-Femme.com, Now it is slow as hell, looks like crap, and really needs some major attention. Me and Chris can fix it, and we will. I have about a squillion or so webmaster emails that have piled up over the week. Got a lot going on behind the scenes with the upcoming bash in New Orleans, too. Need to bite down on alla that pit bull style, and shake it like I mean bidness.

Yep. My cawfee is gone and so am I. Hope everyone has a fun weekend.

Everyday Élan Vital | No Comments »

Playing with my camera phone and Photoshop last night while waiting for my wife to get home.

Everyday Élan Vital | No Comments »

Oh yeahhhh…

We been all honeymooney n’ shit. Sometimes I git a powerful burst o’ love and just wanna grab my grrl up and squeeze her to pieces!!! I try, but it’s never a bigger hug than what she can handle. I don’t wrestle the baybee grrl, though. Oh….lawd no. Chris got the scissor death grip with those legs. Make a daddy holla MERCY, and then I have to sucka slam while she ain’t lookin’.

Her sisters are visiting. I actually like them both very much. My wife and I have been together almost 8 years, so they have gotten past scrutinizing me with too much suspicion. The girls all went out shoppin’ and to the spa this afternoon, and now everyone is sitting around the table talking. Always, there is all this potent, complicated love mixed in with stories of past power struggles. Lots of laughter. Even casual, these girls are intense. You know how sisters do.

I had all brothers myself. I banged their heads together when they were small, and then they got taller and I stopped. Simple compared to sister stuph.

We had a whoop-ass storm last night. A tornado touched down in a town not far from here. I grew up on the coast, where we filled our bathtubs with water, stocked up on Spam, and charted the slow movement of the hurricanes. Tornadoes, however, happen all of the sudden. The atmosphere changes to this odd stillness, with the wind blowing but in no particular direction. The sky was orange right before the weather slammed. Very kewl. In a matter of minutes, we had 95 mile an hour winds and rain pounding so hard, there were flash floods and folks suddenly stranded all over town. Trees were snapped and roofs torn from carports. My backyard was a mess. Our power was out all night.

With big-eyed chihuahuas shaking at our feet, we played Scrabble by candlelight at the kitchen table while listening to NPR on a battery-powered radio. The game was made more dramatic by the crazy zags of lightning and cracking thunder. I thought it was …well… kinda great.

Chris was so shaken by the storm, I had to let her win at Scrabble. Ha. Just kidding. I challenged baybee on the word “OHO”. Pfft. Yes, that IS a word. “OHO” is an exclamation of surprise. I wouldn’t suggest using the new vocabulary word in a sentence, though. You’d just sound ignunt, in my opinion!

Anyhoo, off to make nice-nice with the sisters. Hope everyone is well.

Everyday Élan Vital | No Comments »