Archive for the ‘Humor’ Category

The Thinking Viking took a hit with the Boston Marathon Bombings. I was writing a bit on domestic terrorism.  Well, timing was ..poor and I will be revisiting that bit. but I was just sitting outside and it began to rain.  We here in Norcal need this.  it felt good falling on my face.  And the rain just stopped.  Eh, it’s a start.

But it reminds me – the fire in my heart aint out.   “To the last, I grapple with thee; from hell’s heart, I stab at thee; for hate’s sake, I spit my last breath at thee.” – um, I think this was General Custer?  Hey Corporate Powers/shadowmoney/1%? You are my white whale….You who hate for nothing but hate’s sake? Deniers of truth?  Expect more from this channel.

Think about it and we’ll talk soon.




Posted: February 24, 2013 in Humor, My Whirled, Stories
Tags: , , ,

The Thinking Viking often goes to a local greasy spoon for bacon and eggs on Sunday mornings.  I may have to choose a new location.

After I polished of a big plate of greasy goodness, I found I had no cash – oops. So, I pay with my debit card.  Cashier tries to hand me the receipt, but it slips from her grasp and is suddenly blown away by a stiff draft.  I snatch it mid air while holding the pen I was preparing to sign it with.  The cashier gasps – “wow, nice catch”.  The owner is right behind her.  “Wow, dude, really nice catch”.  The old woman having breakfast next to the register is giving me a strange look.

Me:  “I… I am”

” I am…”


I look around cautiously, and my right hand writes the words on that CC receipt that were floating through my head.


I left a 30% tip.


The Thinking Viking drives a compact 4×4 Subaru with the outback sport package.  Great car, solid, fast, not terribly expensive, but not cheap either   SO, anyway, I haven’t been writing here much since the election – so much fodder, I still have several drafts in the works, but that brings me to today’s topic.

A tool is only as effective as it’s user, and then only as effective as that user is able or chooses to use said tool. Cars are no different.  Sometimes you need to use your car a bit closer to its potential, push it a little, to get the best results.  And sometimes, mutual respect can create friendships without words.

Here’s the situation: California has been hit recently with some pretty nasty weather – they called it a “river in the air” and over several storms dumped several inches of rain.  I was driving to work during one of these deluges Wednesday morning (12/5/2012) , I was running hella late (but not worried about work – people understand with the weather) and I was just pulling onto the last stretch before journey’s end – a frontage road, long and straight with a  extra wide shoulder – primarily so that the big rigs that use the place can park off road and such, so its wide and basically a road right next to the road.  I usually hit this stretch at 45-50 MPH and the commute is done.

Here’s what happens this day and a couple of days later, via slightly edited (put in dates and corrected a couple of typos, may still be some) Facebook posts and comments.

“12/05/2012 To: The driver of the white Cadillac Escalade who I left covered in mud about fifteen minutes ago. 1. Sorry, I’m not normally an ass in traffic 2. You should have taken that off-road route around the construction and minor accident that I did (TIP you are driving one of the most powerful SUVs on the fucking planet) 3. the other Subaru behind me clearly thought the same, and I am not apologizing for his mud

Like · · Share
SJ- Seriously, the only reason I look at caddies now is because of Rock and Roll! That was the best advertising they ever did! It made me actually want a Cadillac for about 3 seconds!
Wednesday at 9:43am · Like

MJ idiot was sitting there balked at a “road closed” sign that only closed about 30 feet of “not paved’ construction zone, there was a minivan-minivan accident that was blocking the right turn a block ahead and piling everything up…. so yeah, I went off road and hit a rather big mud puddle at the bend…and the WRX behind me did exactly the same thing
Wednesday at 10:04am · Like

MJ *construction zone that was not being constructed due to weather – no workers put in danger
12/6/2012 -is it wrong that I am still grinning about splashing that shiny white Escalade with mud during the hellish rain past couple days?
Like · · Share · Promote · @MEJohnsen on Twitter · 23 hours ago via Twitter ·
AM and KTY like this.

MJ I think Subaru would approve.
22 hours ago · Like

AM Not wrong at all.
You don’t have to be a narcissistic douchesicle to drive an Escalade, but it helps.
22 hours ago · Like

MJ what really made me grin was the guy behind me – almost identical car as mine (for the record Subaru Impreza with Outback Sport options became the famed WRX), few years newer, and I think he kind of punched it in the mud at one particular spot

12/7/212 ok, that’s ten kinds of awesome. I look in the rear view while stopped at a light on my way to work? And who is grinning and waving? The “other Subaru” who helped me douse the white Escalade during the storm couplle days ago. Dude, when the zombies come, you’re on the team.
Like ·
3 and and 7 others like this.

TP- Remind me to stay away from you if I ever get a nice car! lol
11 hours ago · Unlike · 1

MJ Actually, my car is pretty nice, it’s just practical and didn’t cost 60K – and its paid for”

You don’t have to think about this one.


The Thinking Viking has found his car keys.  In my shoe. Again. As in, repeatedly.  I almost thought I was sleepwalking. Nope.  It’s my bird, Cray.  Just watched the (surprisingly strong) little dude do it.  Right off my end table. He drags them off , onto the floor, flies down and keeps dragging them…and then, for reasons I cannot fathom, he drops them in my shoes.  2 ounces of shiny excited Australian dwarf parrot  and mystery solved.

No need to think about it.


The Thinking Viking was maybe 16 or 17 at the time.  I was sitting there, in my bedroom, reading, and I recall I had just cleaned my room – a rare thing for me…still.  On the wall behind my bed I had also hung a STOP sign that I now cannot recall how I came to have.  It had been leaning against the wall for months, and I really didn’t think much about it.  I didn’t take it, but somehow, this bit of contraband signage wound up at my place. I vaguely recall a poker game?  So – rare clean room, and a good book, little redecorating.  Read, read, read….

So there I was, when Mom knocks on the door.  I open up, ready for her to be surprised that I actually had cleaned my room.


I didn’t realize that, until I hung the sign on the wall, it was pretty much hidden from the doorway.  Mom hadn’t seen  my piece of road system infrastructure yet. But to me it was no longer novel.

She looked at me, raised an eyebrow.

Dramatic pause.

“If you are trying to get any action with the girls, you really should have stolen a “YIELD” sign.”

And she left. I facepalmed.  She was right.

Think about it, and good night.


PS -the STOP sign didn’t actually make the girls stop. OK so there were only a couple while I lived with Mom, on and off.  OK, four.  I wasn’t promiscuous but I wasn’t a saint either  🙂  Miss you Mom.  Cancer sucks.

The Thinking Viking “sort of” met Paul Newman once. Not really, but let me explain.  I was on my way to a Genetics lab for school at the good old University of Colorado, Boulder. I was on my only vehicle, my beloved 1978 Kawasaki KZ1000 Z1-R.  When new, it was the fastest production motorcycle on the planet. I called her “Goose” after Max’s freind in Mad Max who rode a nearly identical bike in the movie.  Thing was beauty.  Modernized, electronic, mildly advanced  ignition, rejetted cards, bad ass air intake, custom windshield…  prolly about 125 horsepower.  Handled like a water buffalo, but she was pretty quick.  Figure 9.5-10 sec quarter mile.

Anyhow, I was still pretty punk at the time, I was in my bad ass leather – with spikes, mind you, my own semi-mind-trip-with-chaos art on the back.  I pull up next to a nice old red Ferrari on my right.  Late fifties. It just gets better the closer I get.  Bystanders are staring. This thing is NICE – museum nice.  Million dollar nice. I am impressed – I love cars, the crazier and more bad ass the better.

So I pull up to the stop line and look over to check it out at rest.  I am jealous.  Then I look at the driver.

He seems familiar.  Hmmm.  Brain starts clicking.  Whirrrr. Click. Click.  Then, “ping”.  I get a hit.

NASCAR Hat.  Aviator shades, large and dark.  NASCAR Pit Crew jacket.  Older white dude who looks familiar.  Yes, I am actually a NASCAR fan- prefer Formula – 1, but meh, fast cars. Cool.

I know who this guys is.  That’s fucking Paul Newman.  He owns a NASCAR car  employs a Pit Crew. I know he owns old sports cars.  I cock my head and rise my helmet’s visor, an eyebrow raised, looking right at him. Sunglasses. Over-sized, I’d say, like celebrities wear when they are going under cover.

He nods, and smiles. A hand is briefly raised from the wheel in a subtle wave.  It is returned by my hand raise from the bars briefly.  I grin. The light turns green.

I left that damn Ferrari in the dust.

It’s a simple matter of weight ratios.

Think about it.


PS I sold that bike many years later for four times what i paid for it, to a young Japanese man named “Testuo”

The Thinking Viking is again transplanted. All setup – well almost – at the new place – a room in a new house a maybe 5 miles east of my previous abode. Just made sense to move – I was renting more space than I needed because, like most people, I find moving a massive pain in the ass.  But this time was, well, more of a hassle than previously. Last move I was moving in at the same time as the other guy – we helped each out, had similar schedules, we were already friends and roommates at the House of the Wonder Twins – the twins whose name I dare not speak.  Twin sisters and not well in the head, either of them. It was the four of us in the house, and my freind I and I both bailed out to together – with reasons I can’t discuss, because the restraining order for them to saty the hell away from me is still in effect. That full story in a few years.

So here I am, all moved, but I had to do almost all of the work myself…and at the same time starting a new job.  oof.Four times now heavy things have bashed me – wait, five – the left hand is now bleeding. Frak, I can’t even remember what did that. Add one spider bite, a bird-biten ear – he was being playful but bit too hard. Damn parrot. And a torn intercostal on the right that hurts mainly when I yawn or hiccup or cough.  :yawn: “OW!”. but, ya know? I think I’m going to like having some company again.  Rooming with a couple guys, – I’ll call him The Dad. The Dad and his just-graduated high school son. The Dad is quiet, friendly, helpful, smart and he loves his son.  Son’s an 18 YO drummer and music student named after  a Russian chess grandmaster. Just taught the kid how simple it is to reset a wifi router and get a new passkey if the thing has no password protection set.  Jeez, people, you would think that all the paranoia about internet security would make people think a little more – :counts: – there are something like 23 wifi hotspots in range and I just picked a random one that had a default name, made an educated guess about a possibly 12 digit number and..tada.  I was good and didn’t mess with it and i didn’t actually tell him HOW. I’m wiser than that with an 18-year-old dude. Gotta make sure he’s cool before I start teaching tricks, nothing you can’t learn by setting up a few dozen wifi systems over the years.

I digress. I think I’m going to like it here. I’ll be able to use the backyard for grilling – that’s been almost three years now. Its like, half my previous rent,even with paying for a storage unit. And I think I was going slowly hermit while living alone. I really just didn’t see the clutter and disorder that entropy had been wreaking on my domicile. So now, my living room home theatre is just a shiney flat poor substitute for a mirror, but soon it will be wired and ready, but no worries, I’m on the web as much or more than watching the tv – frankly, I often have it on a channel I like with the sound down, in case something cool comes on – but between netflix, news websites and and and  snopes and – oh wow, i haven’t read “Pearls Before Swine” in weeks….I really don’t care for television lately. It’s full of bullshit. Vapid, repetitive and so much is thinly veiled propaganda that most people don’t even think about what they are being brain-fed that it makes me seethe – but tonight – the Television is cold, unused, and I choose what I put in my brain.

So it seems my mind is untwisting from this. Some ibuprofen, couple few beers – there goes the Dad off to work night shift – and write what I think is the next to last installment of Moving Day. may later I’ll add to The Alaska Journals.

I’m going to to try and NOT think about much tonight; I will probably fail.

Think about it.