Good memories are like star light they go on forever, but don’t forget the bad ones as well.

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Early this morning after getting ripped a new anus from my old lady, over something that made no sense. My son Mike calls. So we got to ratchetjawing about the days when he and his Mom and I were all one happy family. I remember when I met Mike’s mom. Was going to BSU’s Vo-tech center in Nampa to get some certifications for diesel service on old John Deere’s. His mom worked at the SuperInn Motel up there that housed BSU(Boise-State University) students on the cheap. Any mile can’t explain why or how but Janice saw right through my desire on the leggy stocking thing. Her approach to reeling me in, was when she knew what room I’d be in, she would leave, some well scented nylons right at the head of my bed that would lull me to sleep, and as her shift would be closing, she would walk upstairs, use the pass key, and proceed to allow me to explore things a bit further. That’s the good memory. I also remember the bad memory, of such that resulted in us splitting, from the point of not so much daily intimacy, to her worries of our daughter. I remember all the rumblings with the bean counters of both my families foundations as well as the Club, some good some not so good. I also remember the mussings over my 1st in studio assistant in Rupert. Robin Whittaker was by far the most talented and nimble gal in media I have ever known. Robin and I were on the same freq, all the time. I’d be home with Monkee, and yet Robin would think of a gig bit for the next day, and she’d call me or I’d call her. Yet we were always at home with our spouses. That didn’t excactly square well with Monkee, and yet although twice it could have easily happened, but nothing on the sex thing ever entered in the mind. That said, Robin made sure that my toes in hose thing was always satisfied, and we sold that image to all too many networks and made damn good money. A woman with nylons on around me makes me weak in the knees, they are to this old high octane canine of the Interstate, as is cryptonite is to Superman. In both cases, they or it may get us killed or be our death, but we desire it too much. I bring this up since it has reared its head once again a week or so ago, and yet if that and some real cash in the stash of the Knytes would have taken place the concert would have had a new band playing on stage, so-to-speak. This filly from Philly wants to get all hot and ambitious, I was on the way to that, but thing is two things stopped that in its tracks. One was the suggestion that if the filly from Philly wanted me was to wear a pair or two of her hose, put it in an envelope and snail mail them to me the other was her showing me the same dedication to me that PoohBear shows in wiring me the dues of hers and repay to the club each month. But there’s more to that than just the cash. Its a real way someone of the feminaze shows real attraction for me. It goes back to the days slightly before and a few years after, and to some degree Monkee. Although I was too much of a Wolfpup to understand how, but by the time of my Dad & Mom’s death they had amassed an empire worth right at $250,million . Which to date $150, Mill sits in escrow and $75, mill to be recovered from a stupid investment in an annuity by my Cousin Bud who was the main bean counter of The Montgomery Foundation. Back in those days being rather naive, women would date and please me as long as the money was flowing from me to them. When I’d want time and real caring from them without the big bucks it was adios. In fact that’s what brought Monkee and I  to an end, Cousin Bud told her she could never have any of that, since if I should die it was to go to my son Eddy. That pissed her off, she cheated with some idiot, and now lives as far as I know somewhere in upstate NY. When the assets of the Montgomery Foundation were frozen, due to the legal action to recover the Foundation’s monies from that defaulted annuity; Cousin Bud got me on SSD for my PTSD and that was to be a short term solution to keeping me fed and a roof over my head. Estimates on the recovery of the Foundation’s monies, are any where between a year to three years from now. There’s an old adage that goes and it is kinda brash but goes, Gas, Grass or Ass nobody rides free. For me its cash in my stash or you don’t get me. Simply put , if any woman truly wants to be my lady, show me; don’t just flatter, or satisfy me carnal needs, put you money where your body is. Now to the memory department, and how that relates. When my Mom & Dad got together and started to build the empire, they were broke as could be. Both met at the Alemeda Naval Air Station hospital at the end of WW-2 , Mom was a Navy Nurse, Dad a returning Marine aviator with Pappy Boyington’s BlackSheep. My Mom & Dad had to bum $100.00 from my Grandma Sant in Alabama just to get married, plus another $300.00 for an apartment bed and table & chairs. That loan has long been paid, but Mom & Dad worked together, shared incomes bought a small farm  a few clicks from Phyliss Dillers farm in Pleasonton California, of which the latter of that sits on a pole at a excavation company just outside of Hazzard Idaho, yep that old antique Cat 10 tractor was bought by my Mom and Dad from the iconic female comedian. All through their respective years at Hill Air Force Base in Utah through 11 of my younger years there, Mom & Dad would pool their paychecks after bills and spoiling me and invest in lots of start up companies, land and oil rights. One of those was co-owned by my Mom’s 5th cousin Harrold. Then known as Husky Oil, that became through lots of those weekend meetings, you know as Flying J, Travel Plazas and Maverick Country Stores. When Jay Call wanted to open his first travel plaza in Ogden Utah, and because of the close relationship, my Mom had with Mrs. Call as school companions in Thatcher Idaho My Dad , Mom, some guy named Thomas that I did not know very well and one other all threw in and bought a piece of land Dad owned in Ogden, yes where that Flying J there sits now. As for me I was the lucky or unlucky person that inherited it all complete with the headaches grey hair and stress. Which is cool on one side bad in another. But it was that my Mom & Dad worked and invested together in everything including me. I never wanted for ANYTHING , including the love of our family. No for me its not about me getting of greed from some lady who wants me, but if she or ANY WOMAN wants me she has to show, that love through something else besides sticking her feet in my face for a taste, its cash in my pants to show she is dedicated to me and the Knytes. 

Yea memories are like star light they go on forever, we as humans screen out the bad for the good, but before you get all steamy eyed over those grand memories, consider crying over and remember the bad ones. see ya’ll on the radio later today 

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