Saturday, May 14, 2016

The Red Carpet #pezoutlaw #hollywood @pezoutlaw

My special guest on the Red Carpet premiere of The Pez Outlaw Movie,
Why, because he asked.  

Can you imagine me on the Hollywood Red Carpet at Oscar time?
That would probably be the oddest sight you've ever seen.
Sweat shirts, muddy jeans, old work boots n a bucket hat.

Makes you wonder if they have an entrance for real people?
That whole red carpet thing is La La Land.
Nothing about it relates to the real world I live in.

I saw an advert on one of my pages for rented clothes.
Got me thinkin about Red Carpet loaner clothing.
When did we quit even owning our own clothes.

I'd rather be seen as I am than in someone elses clothes.
To dress up Red Carpet would be a betrayal of my life.
So anyway I hope they have an entrance for real people, because I don't wear a funeral suit for nobody.

Believe it or not this post is based in reality.
Parties (human) involved have won Oscars.
Studio involved has won a shitload of Oscars.

Then again, maybe I'd be banned from visibility.
I think if I were in charge, I'd ban me. 
It would be the wise move.

I'm trying to write a positive post.
Some guy on TV just said "all the whiners on the internet".
Made me feel a bit self conscious.

If I ever have to represent Pez Outlaw in public.
I will try very hard to be true to myself.
Anything that happens with Pez Outlaw no matter how spectacular, will be fleeting.

I have to be able to return to my small life, pride intact.
I'd rather be looked down on by the fancy than ridiculed in my world.
Call on me? n you get me. not the version of me you think looks better.

That should be within the rules?
Like she said.
My Give A Dam's, Busted. 

How long can that Bastard keep his mouth shut? 
Thought I'd say it first. 
Patients vs pressure of Bills = frustration n an ulcer.

After Pez Outlaw, I intend to retire.


Pez Outlaw Diary


Thursday, May 5, 2016

The Daisy Mae effect #pezoutlaw #hollywood

At my age I'd rather think about Spaceships or my Tractor.

Life sure is complicated.

The 3ft rule.
Generally speaking I have a 3ft rule with all other humans except family.
The 3ft rule especially applies to any woman who is not Kathy.
Bonus effect of the 3ft rule is that it helps with my germ phobias. 

Springtime doesn't just make the horse's act weird.
Cowboy horse for example finally perfected his ninja skills n walked slowly through a 5 wire fence.
Cowboy has been working on this for years n oh crap he figured it out.

The Daisy Mae effect.
Inevitably every sweet child hits the age where common sense goes out the window n they start dressing very inappropriately.
I work on a farm which means the gals are working, particular work requires odd positions that my eyes prefer to avoid.
Add to that the Daisy Mae effect n my field of vision is being compromised considerably.
Results, I walk around looking at the ground a lot.

I'm actually not complaining, I just do everything I can to avoid inappropriate things.
I do though on occasion wonder what the hell some people are thinking.
Horses are about work boots n work clothes, not tank tops n short shorts.
Swear to god, the other day I saw a tank top fighting for it's life while we were getting Hay.
My eyes took a glancing blow, Ground observation from that point on.

Old guys get a bad rap.
The only defense is to walk around staring at the ground.
My rule is simple, TV go ahead n stare all you want.
Real life no, Don't be that guy.

Warm day yesterday, Daisy Mae effect in full on mode.
I'm walkin along looking at the ground, Laurie walks up with her horse n I don't even see them til there within 4ft.
Kinda jumped a bit, oops.

You see it's like this.
Walking from Barn to Arena etc, I kinda turn off everything I don't need in my brain n think.
Result, it's easy to sneak up on me.
Believe it or not this behavior is safe because Proby dog is always watching what I'm not.

I had a woman come up to me n say, "Can I hug you?".
Her reasons were appropriate.
My answer, NO.
That stuff is for people on TV, not guys in muddy work boots. 

I know, I know. 
We're not supposed to talk about this sorta thing.
We all pretend this stuff isn't going on all around us.
You know what though, what appropriate at a beach party is ........... at a barn.

I'm just beggin you Ladies, please go easy on us old men.
You're gonna give us a stroke or somethin. 

Did I say all that OK?
I seem never to know.

Knock Knock

Well like that wasn't enough.
Recently I've stopped answering the door if people come to it or knock on it.
I just let the dogs answer it n they go away.
The reason is very simple, I just don't want to see anybody unless I walk up to them.

I don't know if you'll see this new behavioral pattern as weird or just a choice.
The thing about Doors n telephones is that they make most people subject to the whims of folks on the other side of them.
I choose not to be there just because someone else decided now was a good time.
This is a lifestyle choice not a rejection of the world. 

I'm perfectly happy to chat with the folks I encounter on my movement around the farm.
Most of the folks that visit the farm would actually tell you I'm quite chatty.
The difference to me is that these personal encounters are organic not cold calls or knocks.

10:30am to 2:30pm are my office hrs.
I write, track all the going ons of my projects etc.
From approx 2:30pm to say 8pm my world is the same as the people who are here at the farm.
8pm to 2am is rest, TV.

For me things have there place n I refuse intrusions into each areas allotted time slot.
Oh yeah n to answer the  obvious.
No, I don't look to see who it is before I choose not to answer the door.
I ignore the door completely, the dogs have it covered n I need not concern myself.

I will tell you this though.
I currently don't have a phone n I've thought that maybe I'll get a Burner.
The reason I don't have a phone is that Kathy cancelled it because I wouldn't turn it on.

I figure if I bought a Burner, it would probably last me a lifetime with just the time allotment in it.
Life is about choices.

Here I am once again trying to prove to myself that I actually exist. 
It's never gonna work.
I just don't know how I can prove to myself that this is real.

After Pez Outlaw, I intend to retire.

by the way, this image would also or possibly be the 1st T-shirt


Pez Outlaw Diary