Bad Bad Juju » The Past

I Got The Tenderloin

Yabu — Sun, 20 May 2012 04:00:17 +0000

Too damn good is all I can say.

Fighters

Yabu — Tue, 15 May 2012 11:07:43 +0000

I used to live really close to the runway at Dobbins Air Force Base, so close, when the pilots were taking off or landing, I could read the tail numbers and see the pilot’s helmuts. Loud! I’m talking setting off car alarms loud. Anyway, I’ve probably seen and heard every type of fighter aircraft, and others, in and now out of service. I loved it, the Juju Woman, bot so much, she thought one might just come through our house. They were barely above tree top level. Anyway, we were there at the beginning of Gulf War II, and the military used DAFB as a staging area, 24/7. Thousands of flights inbound and outbound. Couldn’t get much sleep for about a month. Back to loudness, and this was before GWII, I’d sit on the deck or balcony and just watch ‘em. The loudest fighter jet, in my opinion, I’ve ever heard is an A-6 Intruder. Almost window breaking loud. Has older louder engines, I guess.

The point of this blurb is: I have a good friend who is Australian, and is in the Australian Defense Force. He’s a financial guy, has two passports, one regular and one diplomatic. He was over here for years overseeing the C130-J project. They were buying a bunch of the new and improved “Super” Hercules that were being built by Lockheed Martin at DAFB. I got the internal tour of the production line a couple of times, and it was just plain way too double damn cool. The place is so clean, you could eat off the floor. Security, yes, they have some major security.

Added benefit:That’s also where the built the F-22 Raptor. I couldn’t get under the wing close, but they let me get pretty close. I was able to get right next to the millions of dollars titanium (or stainless) mock-down they used for wind tunnel testing. Very interesting. So, he was able to get me a back stage pass for the F-22s (repost) first flight (09/07/97). That’s a big plane, and dwarfed the F-16 chase plane.

Very cool, I like jets.

Two Sides of the Wrong Coin

Yabu — Tue, 08 May 2012 18:41:56 +0000

I found this folded between the pages of an old book I found. He wrote this for me. I still think of him every day. His picture is, and will always be, on my wall.

In honor of my good friend, who died in a freak accident many many moons ago, I’m posting his last scribbles. He was truly, one of a kind.

I wish I had the music, because this is the first and only song written about/for me. I can’t believe I still have the original on paper.

Pretty neat, brought tears to my eyes.

Two Sides of the Wrong Coin

It wasn’t his pride that got in the way
It was those silk panties
She wouldn’t give it up

So he rode down the road
His headlight disengaged
He was flippin’ two sides of the wrong coin
The man’s losin’ either way

Later down the highway
He dreams of three phase drunkenness
He plans on starting out evil handsome
Then turning into the charming Romeo of the west

Becoming distinctively invisible
Makes him a happy man
Bulletproof is the passion of his crime

When he gets that coin out the next time
I hope he gets lucky

ETE 4/10/82

Mess Kit

Yabu — Fri, 20 Apr 2012 12:27:16 +0000

As you might know, I’ve been going through the attic, looking in boxes and crates. Found this.

This is the Juju Woman’s Girl Scout Mess Kit. It was/is well used, to say the least. She’s been cooking for a long time, and she is not “that” old (mid 40’s). Experienced, I would say.

Threw a F-4 Phantom in for good measure.

R.I.P. Levon Helm 1940 – 2012

Yabu — Thu, 19 Apr 2012 23:27:37 +0000

Levon was born a Southern Man, not that it matters, but he was the only member of The Band whose was not Canadian. I was fortunate to see ‘em on two occasions.

you take what you need, and leave the rest

Honor Comes In Many Flavors

Yabu — Thu, 19 Apr 2012 04:00:56 +0000

Yes it does, and sometimes honor means sacrifice. Hang on a minute.

Yesterday, I received a call from someone I haven’t spoken to in 15 years. He was (still is) a really really good friend. Great guy who got caught up in some bad bad juju. Emphasis on “got caught”. It doesn’t matter what I believe. He is a good guy, and I will give him the shirt off my back. Always. Anytime. He is the type of person you want on your side. Killed people in Vietnam for us. Saved lives. Yes he did. Made sacrifices for you and me. Yes he did. A true Patriot…yes he is.

Fifteen years ago he had a wife and two children. Still does. They stood by him. Honor. Anyway, he was caught moving a LARGE quantity of rope. No violence at all, but the “people” decided they would make an example of him. He wouldn’t roll on his buddies, so they locked him up for 15 years. He never talked. Honor. Never talked, and he was punished for it. He never gave up, he stood by his guns and took the pain. The “people” wanted him to lie. He would’t do it. He was true to himself.

So, we talked for a little over three hours, and it was a good conversation. He realizes things have changed over the years, and he’ll have to ease back into it. I will still give him the shirt off my back, anytime.

All I can say is, if the chips are down, you definitely want him on your side.

He’s a great guy, and like I said…Honor comes in many flavors.

Silver In The Attic

Yabu — Thu, 19 Apr 2012 00:32:46 +0000

Here in the House of Juju, our attic is crammed full. I mean jam packed full. So, the Juju Woman and I went on a mission to see what that shit was. It has been up there for a long time. Dangerous business, picking through all those boxes…too dangerous to let Stretch play in the game. We found five big boxes of silver I inherited from my Grandmother when she went to see the Maker. Never knew I had it, not that it matters.

What the hell, I had a appraisal person come by to have a look see. We unpacked all of it and laid it out on tables. I was looking at it, and had no idea what it was. I’ve got egg cups, olive spoons, cocktail ( fish) forks, baby spoons, goblets, special trays, candle holders, and all kind of stuff I’ve never cared about or heard of. I mean some really weird shit. She said the British made spoons (for example) for everything. I’ve got enough matching stuff to “seat” 16 people. Damn! And I’ve got every kind of spoon or ladle or whatever you can imagine. I mean, I’ve got shit I’ve never heard of. Who in the hell would want an olive spoon?

She comes in and her and Stretch got all together. He approved. She had scales, books, laptop, and about eight magnifying devices. She smiled and said you’ve got some nice stuff here, but you also have some stuff you could melt down. She said you could sell this for some serious money. Okay, I said this is way out of my league. She was grinning and having a good time. We made three piles, meltdown, dishwasher, and the real deal that should be sold at an estate sale. I have a shitload of the latter. I could care less, but now I know. The Juju Women and I have some (a big wooden box) we occasionally use for the hell of it. Sometimes it’s interesting to eat and drink out of some high dollar shit. At least that’s what my friends say. No big deal…it has never made anything taste better.

It has all been categorized, repacked, and is going back up over the ceiling. I’m not cleaning it. Hell no I’m not. I’ve polished a lot of stuff in my day, and there is no way I’m going to do this…except for one piece. I found a solid silver (old) money clip which has my initial on it. I’m gonna use it. Way cooler than the one I have now.

It was an interesting morning. Took her about three hours, and I made two pots of Juju coffee. Strong Juju Coffee.

Is it Memorex, or is it not?

Yabu — Tue, 10 Apr 2012 16:35:44 +0000

I’ve questioned the authenticity of Obama’s birth certificate from the get go. I never understood, and still don’t, why it took him over two years to produce it. I can produce mine in a day. Why the delay. There is something “not right” about this. I believe he might have been planted. Just my thought, although we’ll probably never know. Could be the biggest cover up of all time. My gut instinct tells me he’s lying.

I know enough about computers to understand graphical layers. I will gladly produce my original birth certificate for a side by side comparison to BHO’s. They would both have to be scanned or photocopied, and then analyzed. I have no problem with that. Hell, mine might be fake, and I’m not who I think I am. At least, I’d have a starting point to find out who I really am. I believe it goes deeper with Obama. Deeper than Left or Right.

This is an interesting piece.

If it is proven that Obama was not born on American soil, would it matter? I think not, but I would still like to know. If it could be proved, what next? Roll back everything he has signed since he took office? I do not have the answers. I’m not a birther, but I would like to have the people who are expert in forgery have at it. Maybe the CIA, or the forgers on the other side of the table. Is it Memorex, or is it not?

I think it’s forged, but what do I know. Two years to produce it, give me a break. Something is not right here, no pun intended.

Another Story…Different Day.

Yabu — Sat, 07 Apr 2012 12:28:12 +0000

Me, Yabu, am fond of sharp edges.

As sure as night is dark and day is light.

Domino carries a stiletto or a short Kozuka at all times, and she is proficient with ‘em both. I’ve seen her use it on more than one occasion, and trust me, she knows exactly what she’s doing. Saved us several times. She has perfected going through the lower belly and severing the spine with one counterclockwise twist. Her targets feel the pain, and it is intentional.

I’ve also seen her tickle people with it. I’ve also seen her make a Eunuch out of someone who asked the wrong questions, or too many. I think we were in China then, the first time. She has always done what was needed.

Reminds me of the first time we were in Iceland. We were in a bar in Seydhisfjordhur, waiting for a blonde haired blue eyed Viking to give us a roll of film, and he had other intentions. She saw through that immediately, and dispatched him. What a mess. I had to use the emergency satellite phone, and the next thing we knew we’re on a Zodiac, with some well trained young men, heading for a Los Angeles class attack submarine off the southern coast. Submarines are a quiet, slow, and a relatively safe way to travel, and they never run out of gas, but trying to board one in the cold North Atlantic from a rubber raft is just plain interesting. More interesting than that, is trying to get off one and into a Sea King helicopter. More interesting than that, is after we boarded, the Sea King was way low on gas, and we had to do a mid-air refuel. The pilot missed the basket at least ten times before we got full, but we made it. I thought she was going to gut him as well.

She was pissed!!!

More on this later…we were on our way to collect Simone and Rosen, and a couple of Rosen’s cousins. New job, different day.

Ode To Buck & Louise

Yabu — Thu, 05 Apr 2012 04:00:55 +0000

My Neighbor Buck or his wife Louise died. Not sure yet. I’ll find out later today. They finally had to move to assisted living several years ago. Their minds were gone.

I’ve posted this before.

My neighbor Buck, and his wife are both 86 (now 95) years of age. They’ve lived here since before there were roads. They are, in my opinion, a great couple. I hope the Juju Woman and I are as fortunate as them.

Buck still cuts his grass, trims his bushes, splits and hauls his logs for the fire, rakes his leaves, shovels the snow from his driveway, and still manages to rid the front nine of the golf course across the street of all errant golf balls. He has thousands. They go to the mall every morning at 5:00 am., and walk (exercise) where it’s safe.

The Juju Woman once said I should help him with these chores, and I told her that if I started doing that, he would die. We agree now, he’s not yet ready for help. I have offered, and was politely and sincerely turned down but that doesn’t stop us from keeping them supplied with the Juju Woman’s world-class apple, oatmeal, and raisin cookies. He said they were the best he’d ever had, and I believe him, because they are better than good. Coming from someone who is 86; that’s a hell of a compliment.

I plant a large vegetable garden every year, and they grow so many flowers their yard looks like a botanical garden. They can walk on over anytime and pick whatever they want from my garden, and they keep my house supplied with fresh-cut flowers all season long. I love the smell and look of fresh flowers. Always have.

Buck offered me the use of his 410 (when he learned the only shotgun I had was a 12 gauge) to deal with the squirrels that were eating my garden. Most people don’t offer up their firearms to their neighbors. He did, and several boxes of four shot. He told me I needed number four to reach the top of the old and very tall oak trees I have. He’s been there before, and told me he thought is was illegal to shoot a shotgun in our neighborhood, but he’d been doing it for seventy something years with no problems. Nobody fucks with Buck, not even Stretch. They just plain get along great.

They are good people.

When the Juju Woman and I travel, we leave them in charge. Buck collects our mail and any packages daily, checks the doors, and does a “walk around” of the perimeter. He also collects all the fallen sticks and limbs and deposits them in the “pile out back”.

He ENJOYS doing this, and I believe IT IS good for him.