Harry Potter Ending- What a Crock!!!!

For those of you who are thinking of buying the book. Do not bother. She lets him live. It shows you what a dumb ass this woman is. Do I think she has any talent. NO, none what so ever. What's with the bit 19 years later? Potter and his wife take their rug rat to the train station to go to Hogwarts.

Rowlings will be trying for a sequel. Save yourself, more crap from this writer is on the way. Dosen't she realize , she is going the way of the "Beanie Babies" and will become the Hack that she is.

I went to Walmart, looked at the ending and saved myself a lot of money for Rubbish.

So shoot the messenger. It will save me the trouble.

Minnesota Slim "The Pool Hall Sharkette"

There are many of you who are avid fans of Snooker/Billiards; who would of heard about the man called "Minnesota Fats'. His real name was I believe Ralph Markerone ( I probably spelled his name incorrectly, so for those of you I have offended 'Sorry".). He changed his name to "Minnesota Fats" after the movie with Paul Newman came out called the "Hustler". He was a real Hustler and showman and was a real character. I had the pleasure of playing him one summer in Wasaga Beach Ont. I lost a lot of money to Him and was brought down a peg or three but made me a better person because of the experience. ( I should say at the time it was called OakView Beach where we lived, there where 3 beach's that now make up the Provinical Park of Wasaga Beach "Brock,OakView, Wasaga").

At the OakView Beach Restaurant, Pool Hall and Convience Store that my Mother owned for a number of years in the mid to late 60's and early 70's.

That is another story, for another time. The real story is dedicated to my Mother who was affectionately known as "Minnesota Slim". The Who, How and Why she got that name.

In those days at the Beach it was a major hangout for various Biker gangs such as the "Vagabonds, Satan's Choice and Black Diamond Raiders". You used to be able to see several Hundred Bikers from the various Groups and a lot of wannabees on the main drag during the summer season. Reving their engines shouting at each other and fighting one another for turf and to be noticed how tough they were or thought .

There was a lot of property damage as well as injuries and a few deaths caused by all these different gangs trying to get control of the Wasaga Beach and area.

The Police Department at the beaCH was under funded and only 2 or 3 staff. They used to close up at 5 pm on weekdays and weren't open on the weekends , the OPP from Stayner took over in the evenings and the weekends. The Beach was a major tourist mecca. With one of the longest fresh water beaches in the Province of Ontario. Just 100 miles north of Toronto. It was full of Hotels and bars, Midway rides,go carts and etc. So it was a real haven for both the nice and not so nice. The sand dunes up at the end of the beach were notoroius for the various goings on. I was inviited by the Bikers to several parties there , with my connection to the Pool Hall. I saw a lot of stuff, I should have never have seen at my young age.


In the winter and off season just 1300 people called it home. On long weekends close to a 1,000,000 came and went to Wasaga Beach and Area.

I just wanted to give a little background for my story of "Minnesota Slim".

As I mentioned before She owned a Pool Hall and as the Beach attracted a lot of unsavory Characters ( including yours truly). On any given day it was not unusual to see 10 or 20 Bikes outside the Oakview Lunch. The OPP would often sit in their patrol cars up the road and watch. The Biker Gangs would often have their meetings at my Moms Place. they would call up or come in and book a weekend at the Oakview Lunch in advance.

She would close down the place to the general public so gangs could come and go and play pool and eat for the weekend and have their meetings. I must say because Mom treated them with respect, they treated her with respect and she never had any trouble. She warned them about no drugs allowed ,no weapons, they pay for everything they eat and drink and also clean up after them when they leave. It was ok to bring alcohol there as Mum liked to have a few beers.

She warned them she had a loaded 410 under the counter and would used it if they got rowdy or out of control. And wouldn't let them back again. They never caused us any trouble. As it was the only neutral place for them to hang out at the Beach. Sort of a mini Switzerland.

It was the Biker Gangs that named her "Minnesota Slim". She was about 5 foot 2 and 100 lbs at the most soaking wet. She had a wicked sense of humor and had dentures that never fitted right and they would fall out more often than not. She liked her beer and smoked like a chimney and swore like a trooper. She loved to play Pool with the guys esp. a couple of bikers named "Stretch" and "Tiny" . They were Road Captains or Club Presidents at the time and dwarfed Mum by several feet and 150 plus pounds. She used to cheat so bad, she add their points unto her score and then look them in the face daring them to say something about it.

As Marg ran the Pool Hall , She also ran the Bikers , whilst they were there. Down the road they could do what the wanted, when they left her premises.

Marg was well loved by these great brutes and when they got her laughing , her teeth would fall out on the table and it would but crank up the hooting and hollering even more. Cigarette stuck in her mouth and pool cue in hand with her skinny leg up on the table trying to make a shot. They always paid in full and gave her some pressie for the trouble and lifted her off the floor with their hugs.

There weren't always the same faces each time a meeting came around at the OakView Lunch, life was hard for them and attrition was high amongst the Bikers as their life style was not condoned by Mum or the citizens at large. She let sleeping dogs lay and they left her alone. We never had a break-in at the Beach as the place was under the dubious protection of the various Gangs. No one dared.

The business closed in 1972 or 73 and sold to someone else. I was over in the UK at the time, working somewhere and playing music both on stage and on the street. (that's another story for another day)

I got a bunch of flowers; years later and a card from them after my Mother passed away.To say how much they liked Marg and were sorry that she had gone. For she had a real positive effect on a lot of them for the good, it turned out.

My Cousin Lynn Johnston who writes the comics "For Better or Worse". Included a Strip in her cartoons on a lady who ran a pool hall. She asked me for permission as she was basing it loosely on Mum. So check it out.

Fear of the Eaton's Catalogue

For those of you who may have fears. Fear of Flying, Fear of cats, Fear of Heights, etc. I am sure that you get my drift. I am talking about a real Fear, one that haunted your very existence, that filled you with dread and a sense of impending dooooooooom.

I grew up in Stephenville, Nfld. It was the poorer side of the tracks. the American Airbase was one side of the creek , they had the paved roads, street lights, swimming pool and all the mod cons ( as mod as they could have been in the 1950's.)

On the Cnd. side we had gravel roads, dirt side streets, Tar paper houses,Saloon Bars with the old west style swinging doors. Black and White films and no chairs for the kids matinee. You could buy Lobster for a 25 cents on the Beach below the Church on the hill. So you get the drift of the idyllic place I called home.

It was a great life, you steal copper wire from one junk yard and sell it to another. Where I got a taste for Home Brew, Cigarettes, Sling Shots,Breaking Windows and getting into Trouble once in a while.

I must not have been that much of a joy to my parents. I was well liked by the gang I hung around with as I had the meanest dog in the neighbourhood and beat the heck out of anyone who disagreed with me.

Every once in a while about 4 or 5 times a year I lived in real fear for my life.
The "EATONS" Catalogue would show up somehow at my home. I never knew then that it was sent to your house so you could order clothes and stuff from the glossy pages, on a regular basis.

My Mom, would kind of reach a major breaking point caused my bad behaviour. I always thought I was a good boy and that it was always some other rude lad that did all the damage. And got me into trouble. It was my excuse anyways!!!

It seems at these times that she would pull out this Evil Book and show me all the pictures of nice looking little boys and girls in their clean outfits. In those days they didn't have actual pictures of live models but a cute picture that some artist painted with the clothing that they were selling. So the same picture was used a lot in the edition.

Mum would say" See that little boy doesn't he look nice. I bet he wouldn't cause me so much heart ache and trouble as you are doing to me ;Donald"
She only ever called me "Donald" when I was really naughty. Come to think of it I never remember her calling me anything else, over the course of my life.

She would go on to say. "See that little boy, I think I will order him from the catalogue and send you back to Eaton's , where Your Father and I got you from in the first place. I have my receipts in those Shoe boxes and once I find it. I will send you back. I was looking for it already , just haven't located it yet. But I will, one of these days and you will get sent back to Eatons. And I will get that little boy to come and live with us. Instead of you, you HORRIBLE, ROTTEN, LITTLE BRAT $#@%^&%$#@#$%."

Mom also was a packrat she keep every scrap of paper, receipts, cards, letters. So I lived in real fear for my life. As the Shoe boxes would be open and she would be going through the stuff on a regular basis, looking for my Eatons Receipt. I always was told to send me back and get another little boy who was good. ( I never realized that as Adults you have to keep stuff for taxes, respond to various other requests, etc.)

My Mother always looked forward to the Eatons Catalogue. As we lived in Newfoundland in the 50's they didn't have many stores to buy stuff from.
So the arrival of the Catalogue was a social event for my Mum. It was shear hell for me as I tried to behave myself but I had a reputation to uphold and so heard "DONALD" a lot in those days.

On Day close to my 7th B'day my Mother just snapped. I do not know if it was me, Dad, work, or what it was. I expect it was a combination of a lot of things. But as usual I got the blame. I had never ever seen her, go off the deep end , like that before. The veins on her forehead sort of exploded and my backside was sorer than normal. I ran out of the house howling and holding by backside which felt as if it would burn off.

I came back a few hours later and no one was in the house. The shoe boxes were all opened and papers where strewn all over the floor and table. The hated Eatons Catalogue was opened and a order form was on the page.

I knew without a shadow of a doubt my life was over. I started to cry and run around screaming my head off. She found the Eaton's Receipt and I was about to be sent back. I had a temper tantrum that would have almost equalled "Paris Hilton" now a days. Went into a state of terror and foreboding anda sulk like I never ever experienced before. Then an idea formed in my twisted little mind. Receipt found, me sent back.

If no receipt; I could not be sent back. As I couldn't read that well and hadn't a lot of time as mom wasn't very far away. I had to destroy the receipts somehow.

It just so happened that we had an old Enterprise cast iron stove that used wood and coal for fuel. It was used both for cooking and for heat. I thought in my panic. "The Stove, the Stove." I grabbed as many boxes as I could carry and shoved the contents of the shoe boxes into the stove as fast as I could. The stove was starting to glow red hot and the heat was so intense that sweat was running off the walls.

The door suddenly opened a draft as cold as the very depths of hell decended upon me and I knew my fate was sealed. The look on my Mother's face stopped time and peeled the skin from my body as she realized what I had done. I looked at her in sheer terror and yelled" You can't send me back now."

And hit I the floor hard as she belted me with her handbag or something.

I could not sit down for weeks as I got a hiding almost everyday for destroying her stash of stuff. But the years went by and I was still called "Donald" and other things on a regular basis but I was never sent back to Eatons. I guess I found the right receipt after all!!!!!!!

Toilet Rolls is there a right way to place them?

Well here I am again. As the Mermaid is asleep and my Ball and Strife is out at work.

I have the keyboard to myself. So many people have pondered this issue and countless marriages and relationships have gone down the crappper over the Question.

DO YOU LET THE TOILET ROLL HANG UNDER OR OVER?

Is better to be able to let the paper hang down so you can get it easier and not have to grope in shear panic as the need arises. Or does it look better over and so not as messy looking in the Bathroom.

This week it appears that my home has been invaded by a paper over person who insists on changing the role everytime I put it back to under. Wars and Political insability have been caused over stuff less serious than correct bathroom procedure.

But why all the fuss? Surely the job in hand is more imprtant than the presentation and it all goes down the flush the same. So why do we waste so much time and effort on this meaningless gesture. It is purely a matter of personal preference.

On the other hand! Those people who do not have a toilet roll holder and simply plonk the toilet roll down on the toilet or floor. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. Cause nothing but turmoil to the other 2/3 of Society and should be banned to a deserted island, with nothing but pay toilets and have no change and only notes.

We were talking to some Pirates in the Halifax Hbr. Who use 2 ply as opposed to single ply to put in their cannons with black powder and then fire it off. It gives off a lot of sparks and smoke and bits of fire. It looks and sounds great.

Why on earth would someone buy single ply when 2 ply is the same price and a lot nicer. I THINK ITS THE SAME PEOPLE WHO PLONK THEIR TOILET ROLLS DOWN ON THE FLOOR OR OTHER HARD SURFACE. SO IT CAN GET FULL OF GERMS AND OTHER CRAP. So the rest of us can complain that it is not "Over or Under."

Shouting on the internet

It is a sad, sad, sad world, when the older folks seem to get left behind in the technological world.
AS I have been told that one can not use "UPPERCASE LETTERS AS IT ONLY MEANS YOU ARE SHOUTING ". It is a shame when one gets so old that you need all the help you can get to read. I have tried bottles of rum but the vision only gets blurrrry.

The Mermaid of Moorgate is a tough cookie. Life is so fast paced now a days. You do not have time to smell the roses. I also seem to have a lot of thorny people behind me watching what I am doing. I am a Flower child who has gone from"POT" to"Seed".

So in the words of JIMMY Noseworthy "BACK UP", Seagulls fly with the back Up" F@@##$$%%^^&^&&*.