Russell Gayer, author speaker
Poetry, Horror, Psychological Thrillers
Stories From Within
Finding ways to make words sparkle
This is the blog of a woman who is seriously on the edge and I mean right ON the edge…no, not there… just a little bit further… further than that…no, further still…just a tiny bit more… just move slightly to the right a little…no, that’s too much…just move a tad to the left…that’s right, just there…now you’ve moved too far to the left… Damn, what part of the ‘on the edge’ do you not understand? Oh, and her matricidal boy genius, come devil spawn.
Or the three people I guilted into reading this blog, whatever.
Growing older is inevitable. Growing up is optional.
I may make you feel, but I can't make you think.
All the Blogging That's Fit To Print
AS I TOLD THE GIRL THAT I LOST MY VIRGINITY TO, THANKS FOR LAUGHING AT ME HERE TODAY.
A Humor Blog
Stylistically Abusing Language for the Betterment of Mankind
Straight up with a twist– Because life is too short to be subtle!
An author's perspective of mystery and more.
And the worst things. And all that weird stuff in between.
Dear Rockin’ Chair Rusty,
I’m sure I was at that party. I remember the slut, I mean woman well. Another story for another time. What? Me gossip? Perish the thought.
It’s true we retirees don’t get a day off. It’s grind grind grind. At least the drive to work is easy and I don’t have to navigate snowy/icy roads to decorate a cake or make a sign. I can shuffle to the kitchen, pour my coffee and trundle up 7 treacherous stairs to my computer. And often, I’m forced to turn to my watercolors. What a world. What a world.
I’m happy to see you back on the Hollywood Squares. Scratch your egg-sucking dog behind her ears. I’m sure she was innocent of the egg caper. How can you resist that face. I’m dying. Nuff said.
Shalom,
Susan Bee-ann “Tony” W(T)F
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Dear Susan Bee-ann “Tony” W(T)F,
Retirement is just another word for serving hard time. You hammer away at a key board for hours or spend all day trapped on a boat with nothing but a fishing rod to talk to. No days off, no three-day weekends, no paid vacation.
Poor Liza is off to the vet this morning to be spayed. They say it’s best for the white boxers not to have pups as they are often born blind or deaf. Or even worse, Connie would insist on keeping one from the litter.
Now, back to the grind
Rockin’ Chair Rusty
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Dear Rockin’ Chair Rusty,
Methinks the latter is himself’s biggest fear. Sending good thoughts Liza’s way. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt you. 😉
Shalom,
Susan Bee-ann “Tony” W(T)F
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The best time to think about your retirement is before the boss does. I did,fortunately. But I still think it’s a cruel twist of fate that I now have far more to do than I have energy to do it. Back to bed for me now. You rest up, Russell, give those pension providers something to worry about. Loved your story.
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Good point, Sandra. Actually, my boss decided to put me out to pasture a month before I turned 62. Evidently my engery had already been fading. I’m good for about 2 hours ago as long as no real work is envolved.
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Good story! Being an unemployed wife I work harder and longer hours than I did when I worked 2 full-time jobs! YES, there must be some kind of legislation to protect us!
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Absolutely, Jelli. Perhaps we need to start our own Political Action Committee.
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I can’t wait until I’m unemployed – don’t spoil it for us! As for the ‘Stab-Ya, Die’ sorority, that wouldn’t seem out of place on a night out round Glasgow!
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Sorry for the spoiler, Iain, but when it comes to retirement there’s a fantasy that we hold on to when we’re working and there’s a reality that happens when we leave the workforce. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll adjust when the time comes.
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Retiral is a frantically busy occupation.
I can spend all day wondering what to put off until tomorrow, only to discover it’s already too late.
Wotchagonnado, huh?
Do you have Linda’s phone number, please?
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Exactly! Most people don’t believe that time speeds up when you retire. Also, for those of us who earned Masters Degrees in Laziness & Procrastination, it’s impossible to accomplish anything meaningful–so why bother trying.
I’m sure you’d love to hang out with the sisters of Stab-Ya, Stab-Ya, Die. The Greek symbol for their sorority is two daggers and a bleeding heart.
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I spend many hours pondering whether I should think about planning to schedule some time to consider the possibility of ceasing to avoid some action, only to discover that the moment has already passed.
That tends to leave me in need of a few days respite from strenuous activity.
Linda and her friends sound adorable.
Do they cook?
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This is personal. My name is Linda and my oldest son is Michael. How did you know?
Stab-ya Stab y die—-brilliant. Pretentious people pretending perfection 🙂
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I thought it was about time you landed a staring role in one of these stories. You’d been waiting in the wings far too long.
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Well, I am highly honored 🙂
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And by the way, I’ve decided to retire later this year. I thought I could look forward to hours of leisure, but maybe not. My husband says he has no time for much else once he’e kept all his doctor appointments 🙂
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You will find out that time speeds up and there’s never a day off. Plus, there’s a major adjustment for both spouses just being under each other’s feet all the time. I recommend that each of you find separate activities outside the home two to three days a week.
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Oh I can already see the need for that! I’m going to have to find a way to have at least four hours each day of UNinterrupted time so I can write. He has a really hard time with that.
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What a vivid portrayal of a thoroughly unpleasant evening! I laughed at the descriptions, but not without a strong twinge of sympathy for Slutty Linda.
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Linda is actually the “fish out of water” in this tale. She’s a common, down to earth girl, who wound up at a fancy gala for wealthy snobs. Sometimes when we see how the “other half” lives its not as pretty as we imagined.
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Two very funny stories! You are definitely using your retired time well! 🙂
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Whether I use my time well or not is a matter of opinion–just ask my wife.
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Great observational piece.
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Thank you, Lisa. We attended such an event a few years ago.
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Aaahh well…they were just jealous!
Kinda how I feel about my retired friends.
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I know, I know. People get tired us hearing us retirees whine. But it’s not as easy as we make it look.
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I’ve just written a strong email to Professor Dumbledore.
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Thank you. Let’s hope he gets off his Dumbledore butt and gets us some legal holidays on the calendar soon.
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Linda was working to a purpose. That was to get closer to Michael. How did she care what others thought of her. Anyway, all of them were fake.
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They were definitely all fakes–and extremely self-centered. Spoiled rich brats tend to grow up that way.
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Not an evening I’d enjoy – mind you, there is the wine I suppose! I’m probably on my own here saying that for me, retiring was the worst thing I ever did! Now I have to pay for a pint in a pub rather than charge for it!
Click to read my FriFic tale!
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It was definitely interesting to observe how the wealthy party. They are not someone I’d like to hang out with all the time, but it certainly made for good writing material.
You’re right about retirement being costly. We never get a break.
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More than just cosmetically clever.. Excellent write!
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I’ll give you thirty minutes to stop saying stuff like that, Violet. 🙂
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I’ve got the best of both worlds. I work from May to September (and then only a few weekends come November and December) and then spend the winters wondering if I should find another job but by the time I decide I should, I get a call from the Golf club saying there are activities in March. Oh well… too late. Guess I’ll keep this job.
As for that gathering. I have been to a few of those. Women be bitches no matter their income and class level…
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I suppose we could classify you as semi-retired then, Dale. Are you sure hanging out at the golf club even qualifies as work? What’s next, hanging out at the pool hall? I guess as long as you get paid it can be called a job. That’s another thing we retirees don’t get–a paycheck.
I’ve seen poor women be catty, but the rich ones take it to a whole new level. They’ve got more resources to work with.
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Oh hell, Russell..I never worked so hard in my life! I NEED the 4-6 months off to recuperate!
Yes, those rich ones are the worst…
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Michael seems blissfully unaware of the hateful exchanges between the ladies. Wasn’t it his idea to come? Im thinking he’ll get an earful when they get home.
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I’m sure Michael is just enjoying the scenery. At these affairs, the rich women dress quite provocatively. He’ll get an earful about his “wandering eyes.”
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My fortieth year high school reunion is this Spring. It’ll probably be much the same as the scene you described. I don’t think I’ll go afterall (haha).
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I attended my fortieth a few years ago. It wasn’t so bad. Everyone there had really gotten old (except for me).
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going to work provides great escape from doing household chores. i’ve heard that retired guys don’t have that luxury anymore. 🙂
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You’re absolutely correct. The trick is to do such a poor job on the household chores that you get a severe scolding and told that you can’t be trusted with that task again. Getting out of work is a full time job.
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Reblogged this on Musings on Life & Experience and commented:
Two stories for free. Yay! Russell tells us he’s been retired now for 16 months and works harder than ever with less time off. He was definitely kept in the dark about that beforehand. He also tells us about a collection of cats, not the furry kind. If you enjoy this madness, just click on the book covers above and to the right. You can do more by reblogging this post on your blog.
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I love the intro you wrote. “Cats, not the furry kind,” is hilarious.
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I’ve been retired for years now and the line between retirement and work has definitely blurred. The pay is definitely less now though. 😦 — Suzanne
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Yes, the pay (or lack thereof) thing, is a real downer.
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😀 — Suzanne
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Just to say I have no intention of ever retiring because I couldn’t cope with the work load 😉
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Wise decision. Keep working. At least you get a holiday occasionally.
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Being self employed screws that one 🙂
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Having come out of forced retirement only a few months ago I am already dreading the next round. I know a few account managers who I’d like to place in a ‘Stab-Ya, Stab-Ya, Die’ Sorority.
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That sounds like good story material, Subroto. I can’t wait to read about your experiences.
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I suppose Michael was oblivious to the cattiness around him. Ignorance is bliss.
With decades from now to retirement, I find it virtually impossible to take your retirement woes seriously… no offense. 😉
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No offense taken. Retirement isn’t all bad, but it’s not the blissful utopia I fantasized about for decades. Perhaps my expectations were too high.
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I will lower my expectations accordingly. 🙂
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I will hold on to my desk in fear of losing my precious free time… imagine all the commenting I had to do instead of being able to sit in my free time on Sunday having fun.
I think I have been to a few event like that, in particular I remember one special steak house at Newport Beach…
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Aw, you rob me of all my illusions. There I was, counting the years until I finally, finally can retire and you’re telling me it will be even busier. Sigh. At least, peasant that I am, I won’t run into the Stab,Stab, Die crowd (which borught me to tears :D).
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Well, women can be bitchy about each other, there’s no denying, especially if one of the party is more attractive/slutty than the rest. And as for pensioners’ rights – leave it with me, I shall have strong words with my MP on your behalf
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