..like it was only yesterday.

Numbered among some of my fondest memories,is when I was a young man back in the 1930's,traveling across the country with my partner in crime,and pulling off brilliantly executed 'Stings'.

Oh,..what fun we had getting the gang together,and scamming ruthless mobsters out of thousands of dollars without them ever realizing they had been stung!
We always managed to stay one step ahead of the law and,..wazzat?..That was a movie?..Are you sure??

Well,..then how come I distinctly remember playing Scott Joplin's 'The Entertainer' on the guitar while we were setting up the unsuspecting 'mark'?
..I even have an old kinescope of me performing the tune for my fellow Grifters!

You'll notice I'm using nylon strings for their smooth and mellow,..huh?..who?..Chet Atkins??..

Fine then...



Next week,..I'll tell y'all about how I was the first guy to fly solo across the Atlantic,earning me the nickname 'Lucky Sling'!

Tuesday Scribbles 'Caption Me!' Contest..

I really get a kick out of those 'LOL Cats',and 'Stumbles' that float all over the interwebs,and which my dear friend Yellowdog Granny is so adept at seeking out for our blogging convenience.
So,..since I don't really have anything of consequence to blog about,I thought I'd rummage through my giant stainless steel vault of scribblage,and offer a few up to my millions of readers to caption at their leisure.
I like these,..


#1: Bailey..


#2: Rex,..the neighbor's pitty bull..


#3: Ratz!..


Oh,..there is no prize for the best captions.
I'll probably just mass produce my favorites in poster form,and make a bazillion dollars!
..This shouldn't have any impact on you guys.

Sunday Surgery..

The Silver Bullet has been on the waiting list for a double tubectomy for three days now,and I just couldn't put it off any longer.
Yep..We don't mess around up in here when it comes to flat tires,we go ahead and get two at the same time!

No matter how careful you are,those insidious 'goatheads' will seek you out,and bury themselves in your inner tubes.
I don't see any evolutionary advantage to this seeming self-sacrifice,so I can only assume they do it for joy of the sheer aggravation it causes.
..I can sorta relate to that.

It's a relatively safe operation,one I've performed successfully many times..


So,why postpone the inevitable for three days?..

Because I hate,hate,hate getting grease on my hands!
Hate..Despise..Loathe..Abhor.

I don't know what it is about grease,but if it's on my hands,(or HORRORS!,under my fingernails),..I feel filthy all over!
Defiled even.

Don't misunderstand,..I'm not one of those unfortunate,obsessive compulsive germophobes that needs to wash his hands every thirty seconds.
Hell,I've even been known to stretch the 'five-second' rule to a full eight seconds without giving it one second's thought but,..

'ARRGGHHHHH!..Lord he'p me,..I can't breeaatthhhhe!'..


The Silver Bullet came through the whole operation famously,and was back on the road immediately after the procedure.
I,..on the other hand,..will need to locate a gallon of industrial strength cleanser,some 60-grit sandpaper,and a wire brush before I can properly function.

This joint could use a little humor..

..and what better place to start,than with those zany kids over at the New York State Supreme Court?

In a decision handed down earlier this week,New York Supreme Court Judge Joan Madden ruled that Canadian born model,Liskula Cohen,has a right to pursue litigation against the anonymous blogger who posted her photo on the website,..'Skanks of New York'.
The good folks over at Google,who support the blog hosting service,Blogspot.com,complied with an order to provide Ms. Cohen with the e-mail,and IP address of SoNY's owner.
(I harbor no ill will toward Google,by the way.
A court order is a court order,and that's a rant for another time).

No doubt,the question that all of you will quite naturally be asking yourselves right about now is,..'Oh my Gawd!..How is this unforeseeable turn of events gonna affect Sling??' ..

Well just settle down dammit!..Jeez,..you people are so high strung.

Let us not forget that the litmus test for whether or not statements can be deemed slanderous,libelous,or defamatory,is if they can be shown to be demonstrably untrue!
So,under the circumstances,I'll just have to make a few minor adjustments in the tenor of my blog..

I'm pretty sure I'm covered when I call Rush Limbaugh a 'Morbidly obese,pusillanimous draft-dodging drug addict,with a profoundly over-inflated ego,and hygienic proclivities that lean toward the malodorous'.
..Because,..you know,..that's a given.

I will however,need to scour my archives and delete any references to George Bush as that 'Irretrievably Fascist religious fanatic,with the mental prowess comparable to that of a lone spear of boiled okra,whose eight year reign of terror was directly responsible for the catastrophic collapse of the world's economy!'

..The last thing I need,is an unruly mob of irate farmers suing me for defamation of okra.

In passing..

It's with a great measure of sadness that I note this day,the most untimely passing of a dear friend,and member of my extended family here in O-Town.

Yesterday,after a lengthy struggle with the myriad of ailments that often accompany diabetics,Christine Scott lost the good fight,and let loose the ties that bind to friends and family.

That she was lovely on the outside will be readily observed,but it was the beauty of her nature that truly endeared her to everyone that knew her.

She freely gave the best of herself,bringing out the best in others.

..She only ever saw the best in me.

I'll need some time to reconcile with The Lord,the patent unfairness of one such having been deprived of all the tomorrows that should have belonged to them by virtue.

Sleep tight Christine..

Must see TV!..

Rachel Maddow is making her debut on the panel of NBC's 'Meet the press' this weekend!

She'll be going head-to-head against former House Majority leader Dick Armey,an architect of the ostensible 'grass roots' movement against health care reform,who was moved to resign as chairman of the 'Freedom Works' foundation after Rachel called him,..out loud and in public,..over his involvement in the disruptive machinations of the Republican efforts to kill any manner of serious health care legislation.
(At least,that's my best understanding of recent events)..

I gotta tell ya,I have an ongoing crush on the lovely Ms.Maddow.
She's bright,(Bright?..I'm talking Rhodes Scholar!),..funny,and cute as a button.
..She's the girl of my dreams!

Sadly for me,(and,when push comes to shove,..it really is all about me),..she's a dedicated lesbian,and not likely to become heteroflexible any time soon.

The program airs Sunday at 8:00 AM Pacific Standard Time,..umm,..0800 Greenwich Mean Time?,..and I don't know what the hell I'm talkin' about half the time.
But I do know this!
..It should be fun to watch.

Ratz..

Les Paul,who pioneered the development of the solid body electric guitar,paving the way for the future of Rock n' Roll,died yesterday at the age of 94 from complications due to pneumonia.

I don't think it would be hyperbole to say that anyone who has ever attempted to wrestle every last strain of nuance out of their git' fiddle,owes Les a special note of gratitude for his innovation,and inspiration.

Chet Atkins drops in on Les briefly in today's Friday Jukebox Video!
..That sort of thing almost never happens to me.



'Birth of the Blues'

This ain't nothin' new Rush,..but how would YOU know?

We're aren't much for going to the doctor in my family.
Growing up,Pops had two standard responses to all those bumps,bruises,headaches,and minor traumas young misbehavers are likely to incur;

• 'Rub some dirt in it!',..or my very favorite,
• 'It'll feel better when it stops hurtin',..and he was right.

Consequently,it takes some pretty serious circumstances to get me to make the move to actually ask for help from the medical community.
In the last 30 years,I've gone to the hospital three times.

The most recent was for a professional opinion on a rather nasty staph infection that I'd had treated at a local clinic.(Okay,maybe that counts as a fourth time,even though the whole thing took about 10 minutes).
In any case,I went to the local community hospital and was instructed to wait for an available physician.
EIGHT-I-KID-YOU-NOT-HOURS-LATER!..The doctor called me into the exam room,looked at my wound,and said,'That's coming along fine'...
He put a fresh gauze bandage on it,and sent me on my way.
...The next week I got a bill for over $800.00.
Ain't private health care great!

The two previous times I crawled into a hospital were each for the same thing.

Both times,I had been enduring the excruciating pain and vomiting that quite naturally occurs when trying to pass kidney stones for over 24 hours.
Both times,the admitting Nurse took one look at me,and rushed me straight into the exam room.('Don't worry about the paperwork,..We'll do that later!')
Both times,I was being examined by a Doctor in less than three minutes.
Both times,I received a quality of care and attention I still find remarkable to this very day.
The total cost for treatment,prescriptions,and follow ups?
..$0.00 dollars.

That's because I'm a veteran,and both times I went to VA Hospitals.
I'm pretty sure that falls under the category of 'Government run health care'.

Maybe if you had ever actually served your country Rush,..you'd know that.

Ask Sling..

Dear self,..

I think I'm having a depression.
I mean,..I watch all those 'Good morning O-Town',and 'Wake-up with talking heads' shows during my time off,and I'm pretty sure I have all the symptoms.

Trouble sleeping some nights,..or wanting to sleep all day..

Lack of motivation,..and an apathetic tendency to let my vintage collection of 'TV Guides' just gather dust in some obscure corner of the basement,without pouring over the entire decade of the 60's in my ever continuing quest to find a photo of Barbara Eden in her genie outfit where she shows her navel.
Oh yes,..even that has lost it's appeal.

Plus!..When I see all those commercials telling me that two out of three people being treated for depression,still suffer from symptoms of depression,I don't even have the energy to question the mathematical advantage of treatment,..I just get more depressed.

**Sigh**

..I guess I just need a little heartfelt sympathy.
You always seem to give such thoughtful and well considered advice,so I asked myself,..'What would Sling do?'..

Yours truly,
Alter Ego..


*********************


Dear whiny-ass-shut-the-fuck-up-and-grow-a-pair.. self,

Holy Flyin' Jesus Christ on a Popsicle Stick!!..
Don't I have have enough crap to deal with,without having to respond to your self-indulgent,pseudo-introspective,'poor little me',..nobody likes me,everybody hates me,why don't I eat some worms BULLSHIT??

What?..You don't think the whole world has a knot in their stomachs the size of Cleveland over the friggin' state of the things here in the very infancy of the twenty-first century??
I'm payin' five bucks for a goddamm pack of cigarettes fer chrissake!..and do you hear me bitching?..

Okay,..you do.

But still,my point is that I don't have the time or inclination to untwist your precious little tidy whiteys,..so nut up and deal with it!

Anygivemeafuckingbreak,..I'm here to help,..so here is my advice;

STOP TOUCHING YOURSELF!..It isn't helping your self-esteem any..

And here's a Friday Jukebox Video to help cheer you up.
..I can't freakin' believe I'm indulging you!



'I'm yours'

A friend with weed,is a friend indeed!

Residents of the O-County Housing Units accept it as a matter of course that various and sundry county workers will be enjoying free access to the exterior property,in order to properly maintain the grounds.

The neighbors adjacent however,aren't subject to that sort of mandatory traffic,and will often put up their own privacy fences in order to enjoy outdoor activities,such as nude sunbathing,in some measure of discretion.

I respect that privacy,and as a duly authorized county employee I'm honor bound to limit myself to my tightly restricted areas of responsibility.
..But when I accidentally slipped behind the cyclone fence,onto the air conditioning unit,and across the sturdy limb of an old Oak,..this is what I saw!

Sadly,..no sunbathers.

You can't buy this in stores..

The trip down south to Darling Daughter's was precisely as wondermous as I anticipated it would be!
Quite naturally,you may very well expect tons o' pictures documenting the experience.
...Too bad.
As much as photographs serve to freeze-frame precious moments in time,I think I'd like the legacy I leave my Grand babies to have,..I don't know how to 'splain it,..a more spiritual connection between them,..and myself.
Something they can see in themselves,and their offspring, that they might someday say, 'That comes from your Grandfather Sling!'..

And so,with this in mind,I wrote and performed the original tune 'Calliope'
shortly after my second Granddaughter's birth.
It was my intention to give her something of myself that belonged to her,that she might hand down in heirloom fashion.
Yet another selfish bid at immortality on my part,..but there it is.

I had done the same sort of self-aggrandizing for my eldest Granddaughter Tyler Anne some few months after she was born,and was able to snag it on film during this visit.

An original poem*,transcribed in calligraphic form for her first Christmas,which I'd like to cast here in cyber-bronze for future reference.

*Notes on the technical details...(I'm such a German).

I chose for the decorated capitals,my best interpretation of the 'Celtic' style of calligraphy.
The lower case lettering and flourishes are by design of my own hand,varying somewhat from the more rigid 'Old German',or 'Black letter' style.
By way of 'secret code',characters in green will be found to spell out her first name,'Tyler'.


..following in the third stanza with 'Anne',and providing the solution spelled out in it's entirety in the final stanza.

The yellow roses are a family tradition,passed down from my maternal Grandfather.
They represent 'The Yellow Rose of Texas'.
(Not being a particularly religious man himself,this tune was played at his funeral)..



Done on 16" x 22" parchment,using ink and colored pencil,the project took approximately 16 hours.
Hopefully,..my primitive attempt at actual art will be forgiven.

Follows,the poem;

'Whose little girl are you?'

'When you were small,oh,three feet tall',
cotton dress a checkered blue.
You'd greet all and sundry passers by,
with toothy grin and sparkling eye.
They'd ask,'Whose little girl are you?'

Your jacks and jump rope off to play,
'My daddy's little girl' you'd say.
Proud daughter of my youth.

Kind strangers know,
a child's heart grows,
love guided,pledged to truth.

Then summers long,
grown bright and strong,
in veil,and lace,I knew.
Two lives thus twined in hope and joy,
you'd vow to take that handsome boy,
when asked,
'Whose little girl are you?'..

Yet hand to hand,sweet Tyler Anne,
when Grandpa first holds you.

I'll hold you to my chest,
you'll smile,then squeek.
I'll give your little nose a tweek and ask,
'Whose little girl are you?'..

Now,I have to come up with something unique to hand down to young master Jackson.
A Grandfather's clock is really just a cabinet with clockworks installed right?
..I may very well be getting too old for this stuff.