jug # 10

jug # 10 was purchased as an afterthought. i wasn't too interested in it but at the last minute i said; what the hell, he looks like an honest and honorable man and pulled the trigger. a few days after sticking him on a shelf i happened to look into his eyes and thought to myself, good purchase. i don't know if you can see from the picture but the old beefeater has a mischievous look in eyes. there's something going on behind those eyes and i intend to keep talking to him until i decipher the riddle.

connect the dots......

i love you sons of bitches.

jug # 9

i'm not too crazy about jug # 9 but it was dirt cheap so the buyer's remorse is minimal. it's another one of those "it seemed like a good idea at the time" deals. i can say the same thing about my marriage. so it goes.

it's called the falconer for obvious reasons. maybe if i keep staring into his eyes i'll make a connection.

the lovely mrs myshkin has returned from her odyssey and predictably doesn't share my love of character jugs. last night i mentioned that i might buy a few more and predictably i was given a wee lecture on common sense at which point i said, come and have a look a this. when she arrived at the computer screen i clicked on "buy it now" but a message came up stating, "transaction blocked. seller unable to receive funds" but i'm not worried, there's plenty more jugs out there.

i told her not to bother with the champagne but she still said no.

i love you sons of bitches.

jug # 8

i have a wee bit of buyer's remorse over jug # 8, the trapper. of the 12 jugs i purchased from the shop this was most expensive and all i can say is; "it seemed like a good idea at the time." in my misspent youth i spent time in the north and remember visiting the grave site of ALBERT JOHNSON, the mad trapper of rat river. he's a fascinating guy who really gave the cops a run for their money. i love the memory of albert johnson but staring into the eyes of trapper jug i just don't make a spiritual connection. so it goes.

this whole gimmick is leading up to jug #12 which i still hold in high esteem but on friday the mother of all jugs arrived and all other jugs on the planet pale in comparison this fucking beauty. it's so fucking beautiful and mesmerizing that i severely injured my back on saturday moving stuff around to create a suitable place of honor. this jug is no fucking gimmick!

no shit, my back is really fucked up. i can hardly walk and my right leg is numb. lower back injury compounded by sciatic nerve damage. i saw the doctor this morning and was given the the standard speech about being careful and told to get some physio. ain't life fucking grand.

albert flasher, albert johnson, close enough for me.

i love you sons of bitches.

jug # 7

without further ado, may i present jug #7

yup, it's the guy with the fish in his ear. not to be confused with the guy with the snake on his face:

tomorrow is d day for poor old sad king billy.

Whoo-ee! Ride me high Tomorrow’s the day My bride’s gonna come Oh, oh, are we gonna fly Down in the easy chair....

yes, the lovely mrs myshkin is scheduled to return and i'm so happy i could shit. so it goes.

i love you sons of bitches.

number 6

jug number 6 dovetails with jug number 7. i don't know if there's an official connection at royal doulton but when i bought number 6 i decided to pick up number 7 even though it wasn't on my radar screen. so far i have no buyer's remorse for either jug.

this old dude is IZZAK WALTON and he is the author of the compleat angler published in 1653. of course the book is about fishing. have i ever mentioned that i enjoy fishing from time to time?

i'll bet the king is catching lots of fish in texas, great big fucking texas sized fish!

i love you sons of bitches.

jug number 5

this gimmick is not producing the results i had hoped for but it's the only thing i could come up with that didn't involve the expense of handing out expensive gifts for quality comments. so it goes.

here's jug number 5; old charlie. i liked the way he winked at me.

currently playing on songza contemporary blues chanel:

i love you sons of bitches.

jug number 4

in past year i've been watching lots of world war 1 and world war 2 documentaries and movies so jug number 4 was a natural. i do not know a great deal about him and don't plan on reading a biography on him but i liked the jug and expression on his face. let me introduce Bernard Montgomery, 1st Viscount Montgomery of Alamein. like most british military big shots, he did not have humble beginnings.

i'm still listening to SONGZA and hearing great artists that i missed the first time around. i spend 90% of my time there on the blues channel. gary primich can really get down and boogie for a pudgy white guy:

i love you sons of bitches.

jug number 3

when i looked at my collection of jugs i thought to myself; holy shit these guys are all white! if i don't quickly find an asian or a negro people might think i lack racial understanding so the hunt was on and i had to increase my budget. supply and demand, there are a lot more white guys for sale than black guys but as they say, someone up there likes me and i found this beauty:

in memory of bb king. it might be the only bono song i really like.

i love you sons of bitches.

jug number 2

i bought a small rip van winkle jug and immediately fell in love with it so the hunt was on for a large jug. as luck would have it the shop happened to have one in stock but i ran out of luck when i tried to haggle. it's easy to haggle over unpopular jugs but the shop keeper wasn't willing to haggle over rip. meet the ripper, he kinda makes me thing of gandalf.

beauty eh!

i love you sons of bitches.

the 12 days of jugs

readership in enjoy the moment has gone down the shitter lately so the editorial board (me and the ghost of ruby) called an emergency meeting and ruby reminded me that every successful enterprise needs a good gimmick so it is with great pleasure that i announce the 12 days of jugs. yesterday i went to an antique shop to buy one royal doulton character jug and before i knew it the sly son of bitch had sold me 12 bloody jugs. regular readers know that i've been buying these things for a while now and have had a few adventures with ebay so i jumped at the chance to buy some in person and avoid the hassles of shipping fragile items. but i sure as hell didn't plan on buying 12.

on the 12th day i will unveil the jug of my dreams. over the next few decades i'll be having many important conversations with this jug. there is an incredibly valuable prize for anyone able to guess the identity of the illustrious 12th jug! (one guess per person)

without further adieu here is number 1. it's the only small jug i purchased and upon reflection i'm regretting not buying more small jugs and fewer large jugs. the large sons of bitches take up more space and space is at a premium now that i'm overstocked on jugs etc. please allow me to introduce the pied piper. (that fucking rat falling on me was the inspiration for this guy)

i love you sons of bitches.

things are looking up.

the knight errant had a growth spurt the other night and is now an equal to his sidekick sancho and harmony has been restored to my little universe.

there are a few more in the mail and i plan to go on a shopping spree tomorrow. the lovely mrs myshkin will be in for a surprise when she returns and finds so many of my new friends. the question is how long will this interest in figurines last? i'll probably get tired of several and pack them up but i'm pretty sure i'll never tire of good old sancho. he gives me more unconditional positive support than any high priced psychiatrist.

now here's my excellent experience. when returning home from a ride and opening the noisy aluminum gate to the back yard i heard a little kerfuffle from above and a few seconds later a half-eaten rat fell from the sky landing about a foot away from me. it seems that the noise of opening the gate startled a crow who was feasting on the rat while resting on the edge of our roof. i had an old pair of leather work gloves on for the ride so i was able to immediately pick up the rat and bask in the glory of nature in all her splendor. so far everyone i've told this story to have reacted with disgust rather the rapture i experienced. fuck me, if i live to be 100 this will probably never happen again so it was essential that i enjoyed the moment! and that i certainly did.

for don and sancho!

i love you sons of bitches.

busy, busy, busy.....

it's not often i say this, but i've been real fecking busy!

our income tax deadline was moved from april 30 to may 5 but today is may 6 so it's all goddamned over. i've mentioned that i'm pretty much retired and this will be the last year that i'm the friendly pro bono tax preparer. it's the same every year, i tell people who owe a lot of money to the tax department that it's a fuck of a lot better than earning peanuts and getting a refund. but it's hard for me to find any solace in those words of wisdom when i prepare my own taxes. so it goes.

what does a guy do when he has a little time on his hands? put some new rubber on the iron maiden!

i was thinking of replacing the old girl but new rubber and few adjustments has brought her back to life. (don't tell the old girl, but if the right bike comes along, i'm ready.

the lovely mrs myshkin is still missing in action but i've got a few new friends to talk to:

me and sancho are ready for that grouchy old lady in waiting.

i love you sons of bitches.