A little will.

I was coming home from a memorial service the other day. My friend Eric, who accompanied me, asked “If you died how would we know?”

I was a little puzzled by this question.

He went on. “I mean does your mother know who all your friends are, and who to call? Would I have to wait six months to find out?”

I was proceeding down 580 more worried about keeping from dying at that particular moment. One never knows how to answer questions like that. Implicitly, I think he was insinuating I should be married so my significant other could notify him. That or I should maintain a little “In case I die, notify the following” black book.

I told him I hadn’t really thought about it much. I would be dead, so I’m not sure how much I would care.

This led to conversation about my will. I don’t really have one. So here is my minor attempt at a few items I have in my possession.

To Eric Runge and his wife Galen: I leave my 1986 magnum bottle of Silver Oak Cabernet. (Providing I haven’t drunk it.)

To Bob Goodman and his wife Linda: I leave my 1994 magnum bottle of Vanderheyden Late Harvest Cabernet. (Providing I haven’t drunk it.)

To George Metcalf and his wife Erin: I leave my vertical selection case of Silver Oak. (Providing…. I haven’t drunk it.)

To Dan Paul’s wife Rochelle: I leave the remainder of my late harvest cab selection. She loves it so. (Providing…. I haven’t drunk it.)


To Ian Clunies-Ross and his lovely wife Mary Kay I leave: the rest of the wine. (Providing…. I haven’t drunk it.)
Have a big party with everyone and finish it off. I leave you $20,000 dollars from my estate (providing I haven't spent it) to hire Red Meat and a suitable venue for this activity.

My bedbugs I leave to Ace the dog that brought them to me.

The rest of my assets I leave to keep the probate courts busy.

Life's Path...

Somebody on reading this the other day, made comment that my blog tends to go all over the place.

Sorry in advance to readers: Life in Berkeley is not a linear narrative.

Bill O'Reilly is a Big Baby.

I’ve decided Bill O’Reilly is a big baby. He’s been going on about how NPR and Terry Gross of “Fresh Air” (One of the coolest shows on radio, if you are into the arts and what not.) attacked him with liberal bias. Like he never does that with his “fair and balanced bias” He’s mad that Al Franken is quite successfully calling him a dork. (Well those are my words, not Al’s. Well actually a the words of Adam a serious gun totin, chinese speakin, educated white Air Force officer friend of mine. Al Franken just call’s Bill a liar.) I just think he’s a big baby.

Here’s the text of an e-mail I sent him.

_________________________________
Hey you big baby!

I caught your comments on your interview with Terry Gross on the
O'Reilly Factor tonight. I listened to Terry's interview of you too. Its
true Terry did ask you quite a few questions about other peoples
comments on you. Not that you would every do that on your show. My god,
if people can get a whole sentence in before you pontificate its a
rarity. The difference is she gave you time to answer the questions and
didn't cut you off as soon as you started speaking. What's the problem
Bill, you can dish it out and can't take it? What a baby.

Stan Pisle
Berkeley CA

______________________________________

I somehow doubt he’ll air that on the O’Reilly Factor. Though I did misspell two words, so he might, so he can make fun of liberals in Berkeley. That’s the problem with us liberals. We are so sneaky an dishonest and would write bad sentences and misspell things to get an e-mail on TV.


I wonder if I can get Fox to sue me for calling Bill a baby?

New Sponge Bob's

For those of you worried about the saga of Sponge Bob. I came into work a few days ago and found two new Sponge Bob squshy toys at my desk. I guess someone knew I was going to need one to spare. See Sept 22 for details.

I've been found......

So, my brother found my web blog yesterday. Somebody must have put in link somewhere on a web page. Cause, its never shown up in google till now. But I guess he did a search on my name. There it was. I hope Dad doesn’t do a search on the name, he’ll wonder “What the hell?” I never killed Sponge Bob.

My brother sent me a comment on my death of Sponge Bob entry. This left me wondering why he was searching on my name. I mean, could Montana really be that boring? The snow hasn’t even flown yet and he probably did this at work. Doesn't he have any work to do?

Course, why am I writing it, he asked? I didn’t know. Maybe its cause the snow will never fly in Berkeley. So, I don’t have much to keep my mind occupied. Maybe it’s the instant notoriety I can get from google. Maybe its because, its more fun to write about the people around me, than me itself. Who cares what I do anyway.

I was still puzzled why my brother was searching on my name, and mentioned this to my friend Scott, who admitted he does searches on me too. My friend Dan Paul mentioned this also. Dan said there wasn’t much there. We all need to get a life. So, I started this blog.

What instant notoriety! Googling me gets you a link to my blog, a bunch of web pages for a backpacking newsletter published by the Boy Scouts, and a listing to the credits of documentary called “Hooked.” Its about gay guys who look for sex on the internet. I guess those google results just let you know, be careful what you do in life. You can be admitting to murdering Sponge Bob, and if you give someone a little money for a film project your brother may call you up and make fun of you one day. It’s a pretty funny film if you have the stomach for that sort of thing. I live in Berkeley, we had to pass the strong stomach test just to apply for admittance.