This is just too weird!!!! Leave it to Dennifer and GrandMal...

That's because you have not seen the "King Mike (Ginsburg)" bible. It's an old, vintage 1973 IBM Fortran IV manual.

I'm howling at the rain... I am going to hope for minus 15 degree weather in Lost Wages for the coming week. Hot cocoa? How about Warm Brandys? Sounds better to me.

Good ole Sly Stallone... Oops, I mean Rambo... Well, that is weird to hear that it's almost down to nothing. But like most things, it never lasts for ever. Or even a long time, sometimes. Give your resume a try at Inrigers and Rambo (TSI). Well, visit Finnegans another day soon, when you "know" Frank will be there. And let me know what he has to say, and how he's doing. HOWL!!! 

So, we'll probably have to go through eviction procedures Thursday if they don't contact us.
hmmm...I've been on the road all day since 10am (with exception of 1.5 hours). Sheesh.

We devoted most of the day to Joy's getting her job.
Robert squared up with me, and bought the little laptop too.
While at Walmart (for her polo shirt), I bought a xD card for my cell phone.
It was bound up so tight, I got the package open, and the xD just seemed to disappear.
I had to get another miniSD card for my camera, since it seems to ruin them easily.
Also, I checked around for Evap Purge Canister Valve for the Mustang
It causes the Check Engine Light (MIL) to come on. It was on the web for $28. Ford Country said they had it for $112. I double checked, and they spaced, they looked up the wrong car, year, everything. It turned out to be $31.
I changed it out in 5 minutes.
Meanwhile...we still have Amy here, and we need to pick up our rent money, and pick Joy up.
This day seemed like a waste.

 I had a Big O mechanic point at out where the EVAP purge canister was.

Diagnostic Trouble Code (DTC) P1443 indicates a failure in the EVAP canister purge valve circuit. The Evaporative Emissions (EVAP) Canister Purge (CP) valve controls the flow of vapors from the fuel vapor storage canister to the intake manifold during various engine operating modes.
The canister purge valve is located at the LH front of the engine compartment, below the air cleaner assembly.

Big O charged $49. They rotated the tires too. Nice job!

Went all over the Sunrise mountains, in the rocks and up the hills.
Most of the way up the mountain, I pulled over to get out to enjoy the view.
Dustin was going to hang in the car, toying with his gameboy.
At that time, I told him it would be fine with everyone if hung out of at Roberts.
He said he was shutting the game down.
We went to a new Sunrise Park.
Great View!
Played around the raging Las Vegas Wash.
I tested the 97 Mustang on the rocks for skidding and the emergency breaks.
Becky went nuts! She kept freaking out!
I told her, if she couldn't handle a skid, she should never drive a car.
And the only way to know a car is by practicing in it. The back tires are light, so traction is bad.
Went down the Strip.
We toured the Forum Shops and saw all the shows.
At one point, Dustin, trying to get attention, pushed me and I pulled him, so he fell, thus causing a scene.
I told him, don't push, poke or hit people. Treat people right or expect to get hurt.
Finally we, go back home at 11pm.
Jennifer says she lost her overnight bag when we got home.
If it weren't for all of the bickering, it would have been fun.
The capper was the last few minutes driving. I was stopped a left hand turn light.
Becky made a noise. I thought she said GO, that the light had changed.
I said Becky! She said she didn't say anything, then Jennifer jumped right in to say Becky didn't say anything.
I said, Becky did said something, I know what I heard, you can't tell me otherwise. 
That was very annoying.
I'm tired.

Louis Julian Poissan Cutlar
Born: 07/17/1923.
Died: 09/05/2006. Age: 83 years old.
Erie, Erie County, Pennsylvania
Funeral: Brugger Mortuary 09/09/2006
Social Security: 245-24-7178

Jimmy... Last XMAS, you were with Ms Rebecky, so how could it be so bad? Right, I was there to ruin it. Bad me. Bad Dog! Bad Dog!

jim you are halarisaous(spelling) i had fun too. we have to do this again. need help on gettig used to msn messanger. dustin is telling me jokes and im trying to consentate on what im doing o well

OK now I have a P1443 code and my book only goes up to P0999 or somthing like that. does anyone know what the heck P1443 is???? STUPID Pocket Scanner!

---

It's an evaporative emissions dtc. To cure it, replace the canister purge valve and the flow sensor next to it. It should be located near the rear of the engine compartment on the pass side ona Mustang.
-----
One log says that the gas cap being lose (not screwed on tight) is the most common cause for this Check Engine light.
-----
The purge flow sensor is being tripped.

Could be the sensor or purge control valve, but the first place I would check is the gas cap seal.

Other possibilities:

EVAP system lines/hoses (check for proper connections, damage or blockage)

Loose fuel vapor hose/tube connections to the EVAP system components.

The vacuum line from the input vacuum port to the intake manifold on the EVAP canister purge valve (the control vacuum solenoid part of the valve) is removed.

Blocked vacuum hose between the EVAP canister purge valve solenoid and the engine intake manifold.

Damaged fuel tank or fuel filler pipe.

sweet, thank you for the kudz! I edited it shortly after , removing some reduncity, replaced the heading.  The link in 'recent logs' still loads the former, perhaps some db field needs to be bumped.  Totally dig immersing myself in your musings, thoughts and stories as well.  You possess a well balanced pleasant and relevant sense for language, and dispense it naturally, interestingly and most often it is rooted in some love or another for what is good in the world.  I guess that means life.
ciao bebbe

 I notice, yeah , um, highlites, which pleasantly demarcate interwise. beauty.  suppose I could try a hand at it , but its more mun to wait and see how another iffagines the editing.. ooh yeah!

Our CPA firm is Chavez & Koch. They are in Henderson.

What would be worse, tommorrow being a failure or tommorrow never coming at all.
Two months ago I almost died. Last month my father died.
I have no career, just dreams of a future. Dad's tour of life is over.
We're all just a few heart beats away from the end so what difference does anything make anyway?
For all we know, this life is a dream and when we die, we wake up.
That's what I prefer to think.
That thought allows me think anything we dream of is possible, even life itself.

Jimmy went to FLY'S Electronics... Lucky guy... So did you also get a new pocket knife? Hee Hee....

When I got my first dictionary, the first word I looked up was "sex"... Does that me a dirty minded little doggy?

His music takes me back to the girl I loved so much back in the early 80's.
Thinking about the my past month, the past year, my life...
I'll always love that girl (Lisa Hupe Cutlar), but, now she's just a memory of some very good times.
Its hard to imagine that any of those times actually happened.  All I have is pictures.

They say a goldfish, once it swims around the tank, doesn't have enough memory to remember it had been there before.
So, to the goldfish, the circle around the tank must seem like an infinite trip.

Memories of loves gone by, Lisa, Annette, Beth, Ruth......and so on and so on...
If I just had the memory of a goldfish, each one of them would be a lost memory.
As long as I meant "I Love You" to whoever I said that too, that's what my memory holds, that I said I love you to someone.

But no matter how I meant it, I'm forgotten to them, just like the goldfish forgets swimming around a fish tank.

I can still hear my dads voice on the cell phone the last day of August.
It flows from my heart, those memories. They make me confused,
I'm not sure whether to cry or to celebrate his evolving to whatever comes next.
But as each year passes, another person dies that I'll think about everyday of my life.
What will come of all of this?
What I see, is god everywhere, taking all forms in all things. I've seen his good sides.
God is everywhere. Those good times, they did happen, but nothing we did will probably ever make a difference.
Memories are for us to love or hate. I love mine.
It'll be hard when I leave this world. I've got great memories!
I wish love could last forever and I wish I could be a part of everything in love.
Today, was another good day for me.
How was yours?

---These words were written by my mom on her dad's passing---
These words and message wil live in my heart forever.
Thank you, Dear God, for my father and for theses words he never failed to speak each night to me.
"I love you with all of my heart
I want us to live togther for the good of each other.
And to work together in peace.
And when I get too old to take care of myself,
I want you and James Alfred (his son) to take care of me"
Dad would smile, always a sweet smile. And he said
"I hate to let you go" (holding my hand). And he let go, and smiled again, and left.

Jimmy.. Does this mean I can now set my autodailer to call Robert's Cell Phone three times an hour for all eternity? Glad you are finally ready to get that Notary business off the ground. HOWL..... But I still think it should be called "Squirty's Notary". It'll be much better driving all around town in that Mustard Car. Is it red like in the picture? Well, I pick up the keys for the new apartment tomorrow. Have to turn in the keys on the existing one on Saturday. They are charging me $425 to fix a spot where the paint was scraped off the wall in what was your bedroom, by the bathroom door. The new apartment is on the second floor over in the building across the way, where that "Sheila" (british term for "woman") saw you playing nudy... Mr. Short is coming over Saturday morning to help me move. Between tomorrow evening and Saturday morning when the big pieces are being moved, I am making what will probably be a dozen or so trips with smaller items. SAE

Businesses (apartment companies in particular) are full of those tiny little scams.

Every generation, blames the one that came before. And all of those frustrations, come beating on your door.
I know that I'm a prisoner, to what my father held so dear. I know that I'm a hostage, to all his hopes and fears
I just wish I could have told him, in his living years

Crumpled bits of paper, filled with imperfect thought. Stilted conversations, Im afraid thats all we've got.
You say you just dont see it, he says its perfect sense. You just cant get agreement in this present tense
We all talk a different language, we all talk in defense
Say it loud, say it clear. You can listen as well as you hear. Its too late when we die, to admit we dont see eye to eye

So we open up a quarrel, between the present and the past. We only sacrifice the future, its the bitterness that lasts
So dont yield to the fortunes, you sometimes see as fate. It may have a new perspective, on a different day
And if you dont give up, and dont give in...You may just be o.k.

Say it loud, say it clear. You can listen as well as you hear. Its too late when we die, to admit we dont see eye to eye

I wasn't there that morning, When my father passed away
I didnt get to tell him, all the things I had to say.

I think I caught his spirit, later that same year
Im sure I heard his echo in my babys new born tears
I just wish I could have told him in the living years

Say it loud, say it clear. You can listen as well as you hear.
Its too late when we die, to admit we dont see eye to eye
-- In memory to my late father Louis "Lou" Cutlar ---

I was getting used to him calling around twice a week. And on the trip to and from Florida, we seemed to be talking most of the way on my cell phone. Its sad to lose someone.
When someone who you grew up with dies, you realize you are the keeper of those shared memories.
Its bizarre how the mind behaves as the memories we have become more pronounced when they are fading away.
The most profound thought I had about dad's life was that house he built in rural Kentucky.
It had a colonial style to it, and it was the only one like it there when he built it in the 1970's.
When I went back in 2005, the whole neighborhood matched his design. There was at least a square mile of simular styled houses.
Dad had told me he didn't feel like he'd really accomplished anything in his life.
Isn't it odd, that his, just building another house, could have had such a far reaching affect?

But instead, Jennifer, Joy, Amy, and Dustin hung out...Robert went with someone else.
It was a fun day!

Adopted and ratified in 1791, the Bill of Rights are:
First:
- Prohibits laws establishing a religion.
- Bans laws which would restrict freedom of religion, speech, press (now interpreted as covering all media)
- Gives the right to peaceably assemble and petition the government.
Second:  Authorizes a well regulated military. Construed to be the right of individuals to bear arms.
Third: No quartering of soldiers in private homes without the owner's consent.
Fourth:
- No unreasonable search and seizures,
- No warrants without probable cause.
- Warrants must be affirmed by a judge and describe the place to be searched, the person or things to be taken.
Fifth:
- A Grand Jury must be held for capital crimes of felonies except under martial law in the time of war or "public danger"
- No person may be tried twice for the same offense;
- No one may be compelled to be a witness against himself
- No one can be deprived of life, liberty or property without "due process of law"
- No taking of property for public use (eminent domain) without just compensation.
Sixth:
- Right to a speedy and public trial
- Impartial local jury
- Information on the nature and cause of accusation
- Confront witnesses against him, right to subpena witnesses,
- The right to have counsel.
Seventh:
- Juries may be demanded in civil cases (over $20)
- The jury shall be trier of the fact in such cases as required by Common Law.
Eighth:
- No excessive bail, excessive fines or "cruel and unusual punishment."
Ninth: Stating these rights shall not be construed to deny that other rights are retained by the people.
Tenth: Powers given to the United States and not prohibited to the states, are reserved to the states or to the people.

I guess thats a good word for it. I used to talk to my Dad maybe twice a week.
Now he's gone. I suppose depression would be a good description for the way I feel.
I just want to sleep all the time. I've lost all motivation.
Help!

I know,  Im in guest mode.  and hey. its been too long since Ive been in touch with you but you can check it the same.   Id like to posit it baby, that I have
too searched for Linda.   Ive printed out cd data bases of phone numbers of every Cutlar I could muster coast to coast (about 200 numbers if I remember
correctly) and cold called dozens of answering machines.   And yes, I left messages, like a kid on his first date surprised she didn't pick up.
(Now Ive got No Reply in my head, thats nice.)    Anyhoo.   Im bicycling across the you s from Bellingham to Nashville to see Doug I guess.   After all these years
He decided to up and fly there to see some friends of ours.   I passed through Twin Falls and oddly enough worked for a guy landscaping and his wife was
strikingly similar looking to Linda, so much so I brought up the twilight zone prospect of her being her , and it went down pretty damn wierd.   We smoked
hella weed too and which she did not cotton for one bit which was where either her alias was dead on underground and locked in tight or she just was not
Linda.     So , theres that.    Freaks me out though that you had an address for her in Twin Falls.     Every year or less I google her name to the point of diminishing return and give up , and then later when Im doing something totally different I muse, "Hey man, fuck it.   Just let it go.   This is a fantasy that is at
odds with how I should really feel about someone who has made such a point to distance herself from her kin."   And then , I am very nonplussed and just have this even more blank place in myself about.  It.   Hope all is so groovy you could be banned from amsterdam Jim.   Peace
-Warren

I miss Dad's calls. He'd probably be calling me about now today.
He was such an interesting soul.  He gave me inspiration.
Please note, I'm not saying these things in a bad way.
He thought the pyramids were built by Ufo's
Its easy for us to assume the pyramids were built by 200,000 slaves in a hot desert.
Its nice his thoughts challenged that assumption. Who really knows how they were built?
He thought you could beat the stock market with a $49 program.
Its probably possible to beat the stock market with a computer program, if I wrote it and hacked the security codes.
Its always seemed to me that if you could change the time of a stock transaction, you could always beat the system.
After all, isn't that why insider trading is illegal....they can buy or sell the stocks based on what the public doesn't know yet.
But besides all of that, I worked for Bank of America. I had the power of god over their systems.
I'm just honest to the point of stupidity.
He thought that I am a  loser.
I am a loser in many people's eyes. I haven't worked in 6 years. I've been a drunk and a drug abuser. I'm not filthy rich.
I haven't fit into society's normal standards for life. What I'm saying is, I'm far from a normal person.
What bus boy buys a condo when he's 20 years old.
What person do you know thats supported over 47 people for 3 months or longer.
When my neighbors went broke, I ran an extenstion cord and a hose over to their house, so they could survive.
Among the people I haven't supported are probably the ones I should have.
I haven't supported my oldest sister, Linda, or my next oldest sister, Kelly.
They both need help. I would assume they need it badly too.
I offered to pick Kelly up in Texas and give her a free place to stay. She turned me down.
Kelly needs help, is probably suicidal, and has a substance control problem. I think she's burned every one thats ever tried to help her. Its sad, that so many people want to help her, but she insists life is against her.
She's created her own personal hell, and has chosen to live in it.
As far as Linda goes
Sonny and I gave her a place to stay back in the 70's at the condo. She moved in with my Mom. They had to ask her to leave.
Sonny took her back in, and she burned him. She'd bring in the dregs of society, would leave the windows wide open in the winter time...she just didn't care about anyone but herself. He had to kick her out. She left him no choice. That was in 1988, I think.
Since then, I'm the only person who's ever tried to find Linda.
She is quite insane, but, I think she could be controlled.
The point with Linda is, she tends to get married for money. She helps people from other countries become US citizens. Theirs no telling what her last name is now. My guess is, she's not even alive. The last address I found for her was in Twin Falls, Idaho. But, she has no checking account, no phone, no library card and no internet access. She's an enigma.

I asked him how he enjoyed his life.
He told me he was free. He ate well. He did whatever he wanted to do.
He said, sure, some times were tough, but for the most part, he had no complaints.
He said he had kids, was married, had a good paying job, but he wasn't happy.
His kids hated him for working all the time. His wife constantly criticized him, and she had affairs.
His job was mundane and unappreciative.
He decided that his life was being wasted.
He decided that the people he loved didn't care about him.
He realized he had no reason for loving the people he thought he cared about.
He took off one day, and never came back.
He discovered how easy life could be if you just let it happen.
Then, he read me an article he found in a newspaper.
It was about the economy, and he commented on it. He was well educated and very articulate.
I realized he was much more intelligent than I was. He had chosen his life, and he was living free.
Compared to my life back then, I was working 6 day a week, 12 hours a day.
My best posssession was a 1972 Mazda Rx2. I had a beatiful girlfriend, but I knew we were destined to go separate ways. All of my friends in Las Vegas were passer bys. My concept of happiness came in the forms of drugs and sex. If I had a goal, it was to have sex with as many women as possible.
Its hard to say whose life was better, them man in the dumpster, or me, drinking a beer watching him scavenge.
I suppose it doesn't really matter does it?
We both considered ourselves to be happy.
The difference between the two of us was he was honest about his nature.
I was drowning out my nature with drugs, alcohol and sex.