You know, these fucking Spring Breakers are back AGAIN!!! More later...
People, get ready, there's a train a-comin'
Don't need no baggage, just get on board...
If you haven't already, go get The Blind Boys of Alabama's latest, Higher Ground.
Sadly, the wings of time are beating faster still. Nevertheless, I shall again node, one day. To drink, perchance to fall down and break my fucking leg, so I can get some rest and sit at the QWERTY. Shhh..., little chilluns...soon and very soon.
5/25/02--Like a blink of the eye, Spring Break has come and gone, and now The Hundred Day War is here (Memorial Day to Labor Day) . Our duties have now shifted from hosting drunken Yankee college students to somehow corraling every drunk in Alabama and Georgia as they descend upon our fragile shores. I shall one day resume noding. Reporting from the front lines of the REDNECK RIVIERA, I remain your humble servant--Gen. R.E. Lee, Confederate Parasail Army, Semi-retired.
3/15/02--Beware the Ides of March, indeed. I am barely able to breathe amongst the stinking pools of vomit and throngs of sodden Spring Breakers, listing crazily down the streets and strewing beer cans and God knows what else all over our beautiful sands. I am on the front lines, and the battle rages mightily. No time to dilly-dally...must mount a counter attack! Your humble servant, Gen. Robt. E. Lee, 28th Tactical Parasail Wing, Ret.
2/15/02: OK, the GAME is not a game anymore; It's AFOOT!!! About time, too. What that means, near noders, is that I have to go back to work on severe overtime for a few weeks, at least until after Spring Break. Somebody has to look after all these wayward kids, you know. And THESE are the leaders of the next generation??? Thanks for all the nice cards-n-letters and so forth. I shall node when possible. Pray for a good, rainy day. Or just pray, period
has anyone noticed that the dull, boring, mechanical WU's don't get downvoted, and the neat, whimsical, entertaining ones do? Just wonderin'...
1/31/02: I REFUSE to go anywhere else or do anything with ANYBODY, at least until Mardi Gras!
1/21/02--GOIN' TO A GATHERING IN ATL!! Bringing the pocket protector and the fryer. And Mrs. General too!!!! WOOO!!-----------------
BTW, my liver seems to have made a full recovery, thank God!! Thank you for your support.
Now, I'm going to let you in on a secret: I KNOW when you downvote my writeups and I will come find you and kick your geek ass if you do it just because you are an asshole. If you do it because my writeups suck, then you have my THANKS. However, the down votes that come in after the WU is up for less than say, 30 seconds or so probably are of the former category. You have been warned, pocket-protector boy. I believe you are called a troll and I will dispatch you right back under your bridge with a quickness. Still, have a nice day under your little bridge.
1/1/02: Thank you, thank you. Mrs. General and I hope you enjoyed our little shindig. It really was nothing...and thank you for showing up. Now, we're going to pile up in The Bed for a few days and recuperate. We hope everybody makes it home safely. Happy New Year.
12/29/01: The HOUR nears, dear noders. It will be my great pleasure to welcome you to our humble little Gulf and ring in the new, not once but TWICE. Drive/ride carefully! As for anyone who should dare stop you whilst on your way here (or home), inform them that you are on a mission of great importance; you are in the service of THE GENERAL and YOU SHALL NOT BE DELAYED FURTHER !!!
I CAN'T FUCKING TYPE !! I look like Schroeder playing the piano when I type. Imagine the agony of not being to go out and play with rest of the noders. Mama says if I wear these braces I'll be like the rest of the kids...
DEAR GOD I HAVE A HEADACHE!!! Did I mention I also have a nasty case of Alzheimer's Disease?
***THIS JUST IN*** I'd like to thank all you kind noders for the warm reception of my inaugural node How to shuck oysters with a pocket protector and slide rule. I look forward to submitting many more for your enlightenment and enjoyment.
I would also like to announce that I will be demonstrating the afore-mentioned technique, as well as the traditional methods, in person at the Groupers and oysters and shrimp, oh my! gathering hosted by panamaus this coming NYE.
We will also be conducting various tours of the surrounding areas, including Apalachicola, FL to the east and The WMBB to the west. Noders in attendance should be able to get a charming glimpse of life in Florida's Forgotten Coast. Some flora and fauna you may see include sea oats and authentic Port St. Joe rednecks.
Those lucky enough to visit Beacon Hill, my ancestral home, will enjoy viewing the indigenous trailer dwellers of the Costin Compound and observe their odd social tradition known as the Costin Confusion.
As an added bonus, Mrs. General has agreed to attend to serve as your surrogate mother, just as she does for me.
Stardate 11.20.01: After drinking a mysterious cup of saffron tea, my crew has gone mad! I fear I have become an electrical banana...
OK, here's the score: Lee H. Spiva (H is for Harrison, GEORGE Harrison, may his guitar weep no more) D.O.B: 1967, Panama City, Florida. That makes me old and an Aquarius. Not to mention a sheep if you happen to be reading the placemat at a gook joint. "Elegant and creative, you are timid and prefer anonymity". Utter bullshit (just ask my lovely wives, Michelle). I live in Panama City, FL, and work as a practicioner of the black arts: marine electrician/engineer in and around Panama City Beach, the honest-to-God World's Most Beautiful Beaches.
I am 5' 10" and weigh 220 lbs at sea level, down from a record high of 265 last Christmas. Thank you, Oxycontin and cocaine hydrochloride. My blood is composed of not less than 50% emerald-green Gulf of Mexico seawater, and varying concentrations of Bombay Sapphire gin (or Vincent Van Gogh, on special occasions or when it's dark).
And, yes, I AM a general. Brigadier General Robert E. Lee, 28th Tactical Parasail Wing, Retired, at your service. Commanded elite troops of sand monkeys in the Great Parasail Wars (Redneck Riviera Theater) from 1988 to 1995. Currently receiving disability for liver dysfunction and Alzheimer's disease.
Blame our corporate Minister of Information and Technology, Panamaus, for me being here. He kidnapped me, tied me in the trunk of his big Impala, where I did wallow all the way to The City That Care Forgot, NOLA. The search for my soul that has been missing since the last Voodoo Fest turned up nothing. However, I did meet some pretty cool noderizers. I look forward to helping you crack a smile. Have you, by any chance, seen my soul? It's the drunken one...
If through some strange fluke you should like to contact me (or visit):
anthrax-laden snail mail: 2433 Thomas Drive #163
Panama City Beach, FL 32408
e-mail (yes, I check it regular-like): firstname.lastname@example.org
el telephono: 850-784-9527 (orifice)
850-866-7404 (Babe the Blue Ox)