mind expanding nonsense

Archive for the ‘Bizarre but true’ Category

Drawing A Blank

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A lot of times when I don’t have anything to blog about, I blog about not having anything to blog about, and suddenly I have something to blog about.  Lately I’ve noticed that I’m forgetting things.  Not the stuff I’d like to forget once and for all – that comes back and haunts me on a daily basis.  It’s the little things, like getting up and going into the kitchen and immediately forgetting what I went in there for.  Another favorite is knowing that I’m becoming forgetful, I’ll write it down something down (for sure as shit I’ll forget).  Problem is, by the time I find where I’ve left my pen and paper, I’ve forgotten what was so damn important in the first place.

There’s others, but I’ve totally forgotten what they were.

3-13-13 005


“This Is Me”

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I don’t know about you, but every afternoon between 2 and 3 I get a lot of calls from people wanting to sell me solar panels or a kitchen re-model.  This often repeats itself between 5:30 and 6:30 in the evening.  I can always tell when I’m being hit, cause when I answer my phone with “Hello”, I get two seconds of silence, then a click or two, and finally some guy who’s still chewing his food, swallows and asks if Mr. Ne*#@^**d is there.

Here’s where it gets irritating: when they can’t even pronounce my name correctly, and when they get close, it’s pronounced like in a question – did I pronounce that right?   Well hell no!  Unless you’re calling from Norway (I’ve got a Norwegian last name).  I’ve tried to be nice in the past, but I’ve already got solar panes on my roof.  And if these fools even bothered to do a little research instead of cold calling anyone who breaths, they’d know I’ve had em since 2007.  [Yep…everything in Hansiland is fully solar and powered by the sun.  Wouldn’t it be cool if everything on earth were powered by the sun?].

The calls I hate the most are the automated ‘robo-calls’, gawd knows I got enough of those during the last election…some very famous people even called little ol’ me.  My favorite (the one that pisses me off the most) is the one that starts off with “Hello Seniors”.  That’s enough to piss-off any baby boomer.  But here’s the fun part.  When I hear that deep rich voice say “hello seniors”, I immediately reply with “Fuck You!”  If particularly grouchie, I often go on to spew forth every profanity I learned in the gutter, in potty-mouth overdrive.  Pretty cool.  Pretty cathartic!  I get to say all manner of inappropriate, politically incorrect filth without offending a real person (which is not nice).  It’s kinda like being a Socialist Hating Tea Partier without having to give up your Social Security, Medicare and subsidized housing benefits.

I’m now answering my phone, not with “hello”, but with “This is Me”.  I think there’s a machine placing endless calls, which is only switched over to an actual solicitor when it hears a “hello” reply.  Machines these days can speak English.  So, if I say “this is Me”, all my friends will know they’ve reached me (and not you).  If a solicitor does get through and asks for Mr. Ne*#@#*d, I get to have some fun and reply,  “this is me”, and we’re off to the races.  [I actually tried it.  They passed over my opening, went on with their spiel, until they asked if I were the homeowner.  “This is Me”, I replied.  There was silence, and finally they hung-up].

Wowie zowie.  Hansi: 1, solicitors: 0.  Sure hope they cross me off their list.

12-26-14 002

I Hate My Favorite TV Network


I’ve been getting into old television programs.  All the shows I watched as a child and teenager: Abbott and Costello (a 5:00 a.m. favorite), The Rifleman, Adventures of Superman, Batman, and especially Wonder Woman.  [I don’t watch Lucy!]  Okay, some of these shows are a little hoakie by today’s standards, but if look at them for what they were instead of through digitized high definition streaming on-demand horse-shit filled eyes, some of them were pretty good; less ‘edgy’, a lot less violent without the gore, and with identifiable characters.

2-23-15 005What bugs me is the Me-TV network, and the demographic it’s geared to, old folks, and the commercials aired.  Got IRS problems?  Well there’s a firm that will help your irresponsible ass out.  Tired of climbing those dangerous stairs every night?  There’s a little chair you can have installed so you can ride upstairs, and avoid a potentially life ruining fall. [I almost bought one a few nights ago after I had a little too much ‘medication’.  Had the phone in hand and was ready to dial, when I had this sudden flash: I live in a single story house. Bummer, that woulda been fun.  I wonder if they have a flat one that could run from the living-room to my bedroom, so I could have my ancient ass hauled to bed after falling asleep watching Hawaii Five-O?]

The one I hate the most are those really long SPCA commercials, with all those sad animals longingly hoping that, for just $12.00 a month, you could save them from your local animal shelter’s Auschwitz.  How are ya gonna enjoy Bonanza after watching that?  Re-living your youth would be a lot more enjoyable if every ten minutes your weren’t reminded that you need a Life-Alert necklace, hearing aid, walk-in bathtub and reverse mortgage, which The Fonz thinks is great. I don’t wanna hear about all that shit while having a serious episode of nostalgia.  [I did buy some ‘glow candles’ which can change colors by remote control, so I could place them around the living room at night and have my own little light-show…trippy].

2-23-15 003It’s funny how all this crap is not available in stores, but only if ya call this 800 number and order immediately.  Ya don’t even have to drag your ass outta the house, just call toll-free (the number is repeated a hundred times), and tell em how many ya want.  They’ll send it to ya by mail (please allow 3 to 6 weeks for delivery) for a small shipping and handling fee (half the cost of my glow candles).  But watch out, if ya want two, there’s a separate S&H fee; can’t put two items in the same box.  Rip Off!

I actually did call for a little engraving tool that you could use to put your name on tools, label keys  (front and back) and even etch wine glasses (His and Hers…how sweet); better than spray painting your name all over town.  I got a recording which asked, how many, and what’s your credit card number.  I rattled off a string of random numbers, and got a recording saying “not a valid number”.  I then asked to speak to a real person, and zowie, a nice lady with southern accent and a bit of a drawl came on and asked me how many I wanted and what my credit card number was.  Going into confused geezer mode, I had a long chat with her; it was 8:00p.m. on a Sunday evening (what a job).  After a few minutes of asking what this here ‘gizmo’ does, she asked me why I called.  “Because the TV told me to”, I answered and bid her a good evening.

That was a lot of fun; gotta do that again.



Dog TV

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There’s this channel on Direct TV called Dog TV.  I stared watching it lately.  Not because I’m a dog (it’s intended audience), or even because I like dogs, (which I don’t), but because it’s so different from anything on TV.  Now I’d watch Dawg TV if there was such a channel, but this channel is literally something for dogs to watch, probably when they are left home alone.  The programs consist of relaxing scenery, long still shots with few interruptions of dogs relaxing, looking around, or other animals just standing there.  Lots of water shots accompanied by soft music and no voice tracks.  They call this “Relaxation”.  During “Stimulation” (be it morning or afternoon), more active shots are shown of dogs playing with other dogs or just walking around in nature,or in a park.

It’s funny how they never show dogs sniffing each others butts, peeing on something or taking a dump on my front lawn.  Maybe that’s censored.  Or…part of an elaborate behavior modification to train dogs without the use of a rolled-up newspaper.  Teaching them lessons like: don’t tear up the furniture; never shit in the house; don’t smell other dogs butts; and Never hump a human’s leg.

I usually watch Dog TV with the sound off, with one of my records blasting away on the stereo.  They sure show dogs some interesting stuff: cascading colors, varying light patterns; it’s kinda like having a light-show going on while you’re listening to the Stones.  Sometimes I wonder what are dogs thinking when they watch this stuff?  “Boring!” or “I’m getting the munchies – where’s that bag of kibbles?”.  All I know is, dogs are either total idiots, or secretly use psychedelic drugs.  How else could they watch this stuff for endless hours without chewing up a few pair of slippers.

What I haven’t watched yet is their late, late night show “Bad Dog”.  This one features dogs unsupervised and in heat.  One can only imaging what goes on there.  I’d stay up and watch it, but usually I’ve long since fallen asleep.  That’s about all the “stimulation” this old dawg can stand.

4-28-12 002

Listening To Music

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I listen to music every night.  Kick back, put on the head-phones (or blast it on the stereo if The Wife isn’t home), and focus on an album or CD, really listening to it.  Paying attention, not just daydreaming, although that happens a lot.  If I wasn’t subject to a rich fantasy life, there would be no Hansi’s Hallucinations blog.

I got the rock and roll bug back in 1958 when I was elven or twelve years old.   Started listening to AM radio and buying records.  If it rocked, I loved it.  Chuck Berry was the King of Rock and Roll; early Elvis was good too.  My father called it “jungle music”.  I’ve had the bug ever since.  Can’t get enough of it.  It either grabs ya or it don’t.

Listening to music is like stepping into another world.  I call it the world of music.  I do all my drawing while listening to music.  It’s kinda like a sound track.  Here’s a photo of my stereo getting a full-blast workout.

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Getting Things Done

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I’m the kinda guy that likes getting things done.  That doesn’t mean I putter around all day – just half the day.  There’s always things to do: the garden, pruning fruit trees, taking out the trash and juicing carrots.  Last week I juiced a row of carrots that got too big for cooking purposes (yes, size does matter, but when it comes to carrots, bigger is not necessarily better.  It’s how you use them that counts). Wow, that batch was so potent (with a beet, parsley and kale thrown in) that you could almost hear yourself getting healthier drinking it.

A lot of times I kinda sneak-up on a job.  Especially the ones I really don’t wanna do: Getting the car smog-checked, changing oil, mowing the lawn.  All the crap ya really don’t want to deal with, but gotta do.  That’s why I work my way up to those tasks.  Figure out how I’m gonna do it, and then get my lazy ass in gear and do it.

It’s funny how in retirement, if you really don’t wanna do something, you don’t have to.  And that’s Okay.  Maybe that’s a little shellfish selfish, but it isn’t.  Now that I’ve gone to college, had a career, raised kids and put them through college, I’m done with responsibility.  I’m finding that people are giving me a pass in my old age (67).   They call me Sir, hold doors open for me, and are more than willing to help me when I can’t figure out how to use on of them Red Box machines.

Sometimes I feel invisible.  Not the kind you wished ya had back in high school so you could go into the girls locker-room unseen.  But more of a people don’t pay attention to me sort of invisibility.  I don’t stand out, go unnoticed and that’s fine with me.  Gives me a sense of freedom.  I can wonder around in the grocery store, totally spaced-out, tripping-out on whatever blows my mind, and nobody cares.  Just another old guy with early Alzheimers.  Meanwhile, in my mind, Jimi Hendrix sings, “Excuse me while I kiss the sky”.

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Sometimes I get so wrapped up in my thoughts that they become overwhelming and scare the shit outta me.  Then I suddenly realize that I’ve been locked into one, and say to myself, “Wow… That was a good one.”   Good thing it was only delusion and nothing real.   Sometimes I try and draw some of my thoughts – when my fingers are not petrified with fear.  Then I look at them and say, “What was I thinkin’?”  That’s usually a question people ask themselves after they’ve made a particularly bad decision.  Luckily for me, those are few and far between.

Half the problem of dealing with a bunch of crazy bullshit is forgetting that it’s all a bunch of crazy bullshit.  If you remember that, then you can go along for the ride and enjoy the scenery.  It’s when you forget, and get caught up in it, that you become the scenery.

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