Musings from the Manhut

Where the ebb and flow of life creates a cascade of words down the paper's face

Tag: Writing

Looking at the moon through binoculars


This summer was extraordinarily hot and dry. Officially the government has said that Summer 2011 in Texas was the hottest driest summer in United States history. We have also had to contend with one of the worst outbreaks of wildfires in the history of the state. If all that wasn’t enough we’ve had to deal with all sorts of desert critters which were displaced by fire and drought moving into town looking for food, water,and a cooler place to rest their bones.

Needless to say I haven’t spent much time outside this summer. This saddens me. I like outdoors.

When I finally got home this evening the wind had died down a lot and the temperature is very nice. I noticed that the moon was high in the windswept sky, glowing alone almost in defiance of the Sun’s hasty departure from the land of blowing sand.

I decided to pull out my birdwatching binoculars and take a look at the moon. It has been a long time since I have done this.

Almost hypnotised I focused the specs on the moon, counting the craters, noticing the sunlight on mountain peaks well behind the light line, and all the dark dehydrated seas on the lunar surface. It is mesmerising to watch the sky gradually get darker, or is it the moon actually getting brighter?

Of special interest this evening were the bright white spots. These must be impact point of huge space rocks hitting the surface. When we were kids playing war games we would take caliche rocks and throw the against the concrete, sides of buiildings, through windows, whatever. Caliche, or as the science geeks call it- limestone, is a soft rock and if a kid throws it hard enough against a hard surface the rock will explode into dust, leaving behind a chalky residue that looked like bullet impact points on those cheesy war movies of the 60s and 70s. The moon is covered in these impact points.

I bet the kid throwing rocks at the moon is huge.

From my sketchbook…

Like a slutty rag doll, she looked as though someone had carelessly thrown her on the couch. Naked she lay there, her head rolling back seductively on the armrest with one foot flat on the cushion and the other flat on the floor. One arm tried unsuccessfully to cover her face while the other rested somewhat nonchalantly on her belly in somewhat more than suggestive places.


The harsh sunlight which filled the room in yellow hues scintillated off of the sweat which formed all over her tanned body as a testament to how poorly the old-timey metal fan worked.

At the grocery store

A Grocery Store

Photo by Infrogmation of New Orleans Licensed CC-BY-SA

So the youngest and I went to the grocery store today for some provisions. The Mrs is ailing so we are kind of batching for the weekend.

He was in charge of the grocery list. I can’t go to the store without a list or I come back with all sorts of odd stuff. We got all the various medicines, lightbulbs and sundries that we needed.

“All we need now is burger, buns, and bread.” He said.

“That’s the story of my life son.” I said.

The cook says his cooking will kill an upset stomach

Poised and pensive he stood beneath the sign, ready to enter but totally unsure as to why.

His journey neared the end. He simply knew it. He felt that his stomach tear as soon as he saw the sign. The traveling ends real soon.

He sucked up his courage, picked up his gear and got into a line that looked like a line for the entrance. That odd feeling of excited terror gripped him tighter and tighter as the line inched forward.

His eyes finally focused on the rusty sign on the gate- Welcome to Armageddon! Have a nice day!

No loving tonight, Baby, I wanna see what’s on cable

The result of the last time he had sex with a real live woman just turned eleven. Even he finds it hard to believe almost twelve years passed by and he is not even 50 yet.

He is slowly losing his mind.

In all of his life he has had just enough sex to know that he likes it but not enough to know how to get any or even to satisfy a woman. He leads a vicarious sex life having sex through the subtle hints and intonations in the conversations of others or through the wonders of internet porn.

Aztecs and Mayans…

Ok, so I guess that I am in a weird mood today. I have been scoping out public domain images of the Aztecs and Mayans.

I have no idea what all the Spanish says all around the picture, but I imagine the man in the picture is either griping because the tortillas are not ready yet or he is in a rather romantic mood. Even though these particular Aztecs lived long ago, I’m sure the rules of life were the same for them as they are for us… nothing turns on a man like a woman who cooks!

From a serious and studious standpoint- this picture is most interesting because of the plain-jane clothing they are wearing. Most pictures of the Aztecs show them wearing these really colourful clothes.

Ok this one is Mayan. Evidently the Mayans really had a chocolate fetish and this king or priest is telling the other guy to stay out of the chocolate. Judging from the look on the other guys face I’d say he has a sweet tooth.

I’ll tell you the truth, this one is weird. It looks like some god gored a turtle and a cat and is now goring a woman with a spear. And you think anime is graphic?!

All three images are from the public domain. They were found in the wikicommons site.

Excuse me, waiter, but Table 4 ordered the winter weather.

I have to admit that I wish winter would hurry up and get here. Normally, I try not complain about the weather but in October the temperatures hover in the 90s for highs. Luckily the morning lows have fallen to a rather brisk 55.


In a month we will complain of frost on the windshield when we get get up in the morning. At least I won’t get sunburned though.


Evidently, by the picture above, one can get a very nice tan in the cold.

The Mother Superior is the World Roller Derby Champ!

Photo Copyright by April Sikorski Licensed CC-BY-SA-2.0


I saw this picture the other day of a gaggle of nuns all wearing roller blades. I think that’s pretty cool. No, really I do. I’m not too sure about the aerodynamics of a habit and I imagine that if they get going too fast they will all look like Sally Field but it’s still cool.


Back when I was a kid I remember there being a nun that cut several pop music albums. I don’t know what her name was but I do remember that she was a hit.


Now being a nun has got to be a rough life. They have to do all those good deeds, and pray all the time. That has got to be stressful… they are not zen surrealists after all so they don’t have a brain dump to help them get through their dreary days and their dreary clothes.


Benedict should order all the nuns to take up rollerblading and demand that they become the best dang rollerbladers in the world. Then the Carmelites or whoever could challenge the Orthodox nuns to a winner take all show down for control of world Christendom.


Ok maybe that won’t happen. Western European nuns would get their butts whupped by the Eastern European ones. No amount of training could possibly prepare the Westerners for the onslaught of Slavic roller derbying nuns out for blood.

Found in an old box in The Manhut

For those of you that don’t know me very well I am always writing. My writing is not really organised in a neat little file or anything so my writings will never make it to the Smithsonian or anything. Mostly my writing is for my own amusement anyway.

I found this little gem today as I was cleaning out the Palapa de Hombré and figured I’d share it with you. It is an unfinished work of pure genius… Read the rest of this entry »

A excerpt from Thoughts of a Middle-Aged Man

which is available here.

Ariana Huffington was on the Daily Show one time talking about blogging. And she said that blogs are supposed to real, in the moment and raw. She says that those blogs are the only ones worth reading. Maybe that is why the blog phenomenon is taking off. I doubt I am the only one who likes my entertainment a little on the coarse side.

To tell the truth I am not sure who Huffington is. I have reached the age where if a thing or person doesn’t concern me directly I pay them or it absolutely no mind. I have no idea what a Jonas Brother is… some NASCAR race team I think. I have yet to figure out what a Miley Cyrus is and why it is important that she comes from Montana. So this Huffington lady could just be some quack with too much time on her hands and became famous by talking a lot and saying nothing at all.

Not that I would know anything about stuff like that at all. Not a damn thing about stuff like that.

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