Pregnant Man Pt 2

I got an affirmative comment on my blog from a woman. It made me think that i was so blind in a rage over this freak, and calling for all “men” to be outraged, that i forgot to call for a rally of women. Yes men should be outraged, however as much as this is an attempt to push male uniqueness aside it should also be seen as an attack on the even more uniqueness of the female. All i can say is that if i (an average male who can only bow down to the strength of your average woman who joyfully and with a smile puts up with us and that curse thing)  were born a woman, i would have killed myself after my first menstrual period, i am not the type to handle that inconvenience for the next 25 to 30 years. We should put women on pedestals just for being willing to endure this thing, and us men, just for the privilege of bringing new life into this world. I know we men contribute but, that is the one and only fun part, then it’s the woman’s problem from there on. To my knowledge no man has ever died in child birth, unless he is standing too close to his wife during labor, and seeing as he talked her into the “natural, no meds approach”. I can see a strong woman chocking the life and any future children (if you get my drift) out of that man. I have often said that the world revolves around approximately 12-15 square inches of real estate. Let’s face it, the girls have us by the shorts, figuratively and sometime literally. Everything we do is to get a girl to sleep in the same room and if were lucky the same bed as us. And everything you girls want, we are willing to get for you with one, and only one favor in return. So for these nuts to say a man can have a baby mocks and minimizes the struggles and sacrifices and pains women endure monthly for that thing that makes the world revolve.

Pregnant Man

OK most of the people who read my blog are of the higher IQ type, so you can read on if you will but, do not take it to heart on what I’m about to write, it is meant for the isolated idiot who may stumble onto my page. With the hope that his/her light will go on in that empty head and expose the tons of cobwebs in there.

Listen up you maladjusted, poorly educated, social engineering, haven’t left the 60’s, left wing red diaper doper/crack babies. IT ISN’T A MAN. It (and by it i mean the thing that is female calling itself a man) is a woman. It is biologically a woman. I am sick and tired of the media showing “the pregnant man cutting it’s grass”, “the father to be just glowing” etc. What type of idiots are we raising in this country when there is no uproar from normal people calling this stupidity what it is, an attempt yet again by the gay and lesbian Mafia dominated media to normalize freaks who would allow their lives to be put on display. P.T.Barnum must be rolling over in his grave so fast that we could hook a generator to his feet and power all of the U.S.’s electrical needs, forever. He has to be trying to talk Saint Peter into letting him go on the grounds that, he was robbed of the correct time period to be on earth, why else would the greatest promoter of freaks not be allowed to be here now, when there are so many more (freaks) than when he was alive.

The fact that they keep trying to drive home the point that it is a pregnant man ought to piss off a lot more men. They have been, and succeeding on too many fronts, i might add, trying to minimize, marginilize and feminize the male in the this society. We are fighting Al Quida all wrong, we should let them in and two senerios come to mind, one the is muslems would not tollerate this crap from hollywood and they would handle the freaks there like they do in other countries or the media would drive the Al Quida to suicide, either way we would have to fight only half of them then.

 

Blogging Again

I’ve been in a fog as of late and havent blogged lately. I went out with a friend of mine to a metairie nightclub to listen to a band. I think it was “the best cover band ever” or something of the like, they wetren’t bad, they were good all things factored in ( like alcohol and really big speekers amd powerful amps). I am really buzzing right now so if there are a bunch of typos then it’s on you if you continue reading as i refuse to use spell check causde the alcohol won’t let me press the correct keys. any way i have found otu that im can stioll hang with the party croude. i am not sure if tits the alcohol talking or what but i fully intend to start tro blogging again as soom as i sober up. god save the queen and damn the torpedosfull speed ahead. give me liberty or give me death. man who gets laid in grass get piece on earth. oh romeo oh romeo where forth art thuogh. OK now i’mjust rambling. SORRY. Giood night oil.

I apparently wrote the above when i got back home from a night out with “dumbass” at a local bar, then saved it and either forgot i did it or just didn’t remember even doing it at all (i know same difference). (gonna leave it as it was done at the time, 5/3/08, you may think “that poor bastard was really drunk” judging from the syntax and grammar, but keep in mind i went to public school, you can let your minds wander, thank god for spell-check, huh?.) I have had some difficulty reckoning with Dawns death. As you may or may not know i had a bout with the vicious form of the flu from the day before Mardi Gras and running on about 4 or 5 weeks later, but never felt really healthy till just lately. I’m not sure what exactly was wrong but if psychological stress can manifest itself into physical problems, lack of sleep, no energy, weird pains, a laundry list of crap. Won’t bore you with details but, whether it was the virus, the struggles with her death, and that time in you life when you reach an age were you contemplate your own mortality or a combination of some or all of the above, the fact remains that i haven’t been able to put more than three words into a coherent sentence, and for your sake kept the keyboard quiet but, i now am feeling better, still not 100% but, not the 5% i was at all this time. Not sure this is even relevant to you or this blog but, it had to be said.

Dawn the boy’s, me and the camping trip – final part

The next day is not much better, and the next night it’s raining and sleeting off and on, Dawn finally gave up on her soaking wet tent and bedding and has hunkered down in the cab of her pickup. The boys are still in their tent and won’t come out, i cannot see how they are not frozen and soaking wet, the rain comes again, the tent being right in the path of the water flow on the slope of the campsite. I settle in the back of the car, and tell the boys if they need to they can sleep in the car. The next morning it’s still drizzling, there is no need in trying to start a fire to warm up or cook, so we opt for a hot shower and some dry clothes. (the campground has very nice facilities, old, well used and primitive, but nice) We call the boys to come out of their tent and my suspicions are confirmed, they are soaked from head to toe, it’s in the lower 40’s, if there were any doubt they are of hardy stock, this would prove the folly of that doubt. When i say that they should have been suffering from hypothermia and come down with some previously unknown type of pneumonia, it would be a gross understatement. They were shivering but alert and lively. We head to the showers and enjoy a hot shower and mud rinsing. All i hear from the adjacent shower stall is “uncle Louie Steven is using all the shampoo, uncle Louie Corey won’t share the soap, uncle Louie, uncle Louie…… at least the cold hasn’t caused any brain damage, they are fine. We decide to get some breakfast in town and come back and wash the bedding and stuff for tonight. There is only one washer and dryer, so this takes most of the morning. Finally we finish and go into Chattanooga for Dawn to log on and then for us to do a little sightseeing and touristy stuff. The dog tags along since we will be gone all day, we line the back seat with a blanket and he comes along.

No matter how aggravated, annoyed or pissed you become, with all the little problems you encounter in any “family” vacation, you can always find at least one pleasant experience in the time spent on that vacation. This was that day, we and the boys especially had one of the most stunningly great days that you cannot begin to understand. We saw beautiful little mountain towns, the weather cleared soon as we left the campground, scenery that took your breath away, rode the incline railway, ate in some homey little restaurant, the day seemed to have a hundred hours and yet not enough to finish all you want to do. This day made all the trouble we went through worth it. This is one of those memories that make me really happy and really sad all at once, knowing we had such incredible fun and then realizing it was one of the last, and for sure no more forever memories of Dawn and the boys together. I’m trying not to cry so i can finish, and not being able to see the keyboard through teary eyes i want to take a break but the pleasant memories are some how comforting to me right now. Knowing that Dawn, will never be able to share in the boys life and they hers, will haunt and pain me for the rest of my life, with all those pleasant memories wedged in between the day to day frustrations and trials of life, but the memories are still strong and pleasing and i pray that those good memories don’t fade away like everyone tells you they will. Thank god for me being able to put them in writing so they cannot fade, only drift back and forth through my daily thoughts. I can look back at these writings and refresh those thoughts, Dawn perhaps looking down with pride at her boys, keeping an eye on their every move, can read and smile a little. I’m sure that by now she has figured out how the system works there and will get the ball rolling so she can still keep a watchful eye on her boys, maybe do a little wheeling and dealing to make sure they have the best chance at a good life…. just as she had done here, with them… what ever it took, whatever it takes they will have her behind them, pushing, prodding, encouraging, scolding and watching… from wherever she is. Everything she did even for herself, was in reality and i know always in the back of her mind for her boys. I will miss her. 

Best Commercial Ever

Recently my son sent me an email featuring the video linked below with the heading “hey dad i think this is the best commercial ever…”. I cannot argue with him on this one, if it doesn’t stir up a high level of pride in you then you are either a communist or in need of antidepressants and intense therapy. In either case if you find this video even remotely bad or offensive, then i don’t want your kind reading my blog anyway…….

www.youtube.com/watch?v=_DcjLePDHyU

Dawn, the boy’s, me and the camping trip – part 3

We stop in and say hello to the guy manning the ranger office. He’s a young guy, about 25 or so, very knowledgeable and informative of all things mountain. This is a state campground, safe, but it is rugged mountains he reminds us, deadly and dangerous if you fail to respect the parks rules and guidelines, and of course mother nature. “Just last month they had to send in the National Guard to recover the body of a photographer who set up to take pictures of the frozen waterfall” he says “they could only find half of him, apparently a chunk of ice unexpectedly broke free, slid down the narrow canyon at warp speed right where he was set up and cut him in half”. Right now Dawn has a look on her face that can only be described as a cross between shear terror, she is pale, white to be specific, and a look of what the hell have you gotten us into. Now i don’t remember who asked the question, probably me, “what happened to the other half of the body”, without missing a beat or flinching he says “we just figure the bears or mountain lions ate it”. Do i need to describe the look on her face now? He tells a few more stories, “about two or three people need to be rescued every year, some in worse condition than the photographer”  We completely forget why we went there in the first place, to get the weather forecast, we did buy a few jars of local made jam for our breakfast’s at the campsite.

We drive into Chattanooga to find a library, so we can log on with her laptop for Dawn’s fledgling jewelery business. Even on vacation she was still working hard to get it done. We do the sightseeing thing and plan our future trips into town and which sites to see and when. We eat and remember that we didn’t get the weather report so, back to the library, cause we ain’t gonna go back to get it from that Ranger, she logs on to check and keeps trying to verify what she is seeing. A big spring storm with rain, snow, wind and brimstone. We make plans in case the weather gets beyond our control, like leaving for home right now. We decide to stay.

We tarp our supplies and some fire wood to try to keep it dry enough to light in the morning. We hike, the views are breathtaking, the scenery is magnificent. The boys are flabbergasted by what their eyes are seeing, Stephen playing the experienced tour guide to his “novice” little brother points out the most important things to see, the heights, the rugged terrain. We head back, they decide to stay in the tents for the night. Now if you hadn’t seen it coming then you need to reread the first two parts, the part about being on a slope especially. About 2 or 3 am the winds pick up, the rain comes, about thirty minutes later she knocks on the window of the car, freezing, her and Mocha want in, she is welcome but the red mud soaked sopping wet dog was not. (at this point I’m not as fond of Mocha as i am these days, I’d let him in today, but then he was a mud soaked mutt) I’m thinking the mud will be impossible to remove from cheap, beige, cloth upholstery, she thinks I’m mean to Mocha. Lets put him in his cage and cover it with the other tarp, finally i convince her. We check on the boys and they refuse to come out of their tent, and claim to be warm and dry. I do not see how that was possible, but you know what they say “what don’t kill you makes you stronger”. I tell the boys to come to the car if they need to. By the time we settle again the rain stops. Great! I just need a few more hours of sleep to get going in the morning.

The rest of the trip is no less fun and entertaining, so tune in for the last part of the story, less exciting yes, but good times to be had by all.

Michael Vick’s dogs

There is a saying, “never underestimate stupid people in large numbers”. Which is why our country is in such a downward spiral. Let me state that i am a big dog lover, a child’s life is not complete till they get their first dog, a Labrador, not a pit, at least not one that was weened on blood. I have been very sick as of late, that damn flu. I said to myself that i would not blog cause I’m delusional, dehydrated, fevery, exhausted and to top it all off the only relief i can get is from over the counter stuff that makes me psychotic. So psychosis be damned, while listening to one of those Hollywood news shows that come on at random times in between decent programing, too tired to get up and change the channel, remote doesn’t work, i heard the following. A group of people are taking care of the dogs rescued from m. v’s. home and are (PLEASE SIT FOR THIS) rehabilitating the dogs so that they may be placed in a loving family home. They are even introducing them ever so slowly to CHILD size dogs to gauge if they can be trusted with children. Most people would say that this is wrong on so many levels, not me, THIS IS WRONG ON EVERY POSSIBLE LEVEL IMAGINABLE. They should have been put to sleep 24 hours after they were rescued, and i now believe so should the people who want to place these dogs in a “loving family home”. “Morons” does not do it justice, there is no word to describe this.

How do we determine when, if, and where these dogs get to go. Who determines if the dog now understands that he does not need to fight to survive, do we ask him, will he understand that he has to control those primal responses, and be patient and understanding. One of the features of the story was of a female dog, that was so prized for her aggressiveness, and had to be bread at any cost, that they filed down her teeth to keep her from attacking and killing or maiming her potential mates. OOOOhhhhh!! Where can i get a puppy!!?!? Is someone gonna tell you before you adopt this adorable dog that, it may suffer from a personality disorder, it may or may not lash out at you when you step on it accidentally when you get up to pee in the middle of the night in the dark. Do you discipline it with a smack on the nose that might trigger an outburst. We have humans out there that will eat you and your family because they got mistreated as a kid, some with a lot less then these dogs have been subjected to. How many times does a dog have to crawl into a baby bed and kill it’s competition for the family’s attention, and have the parents say that it “never showed signs of aggression before”. IT’S A DUMB, STUPID DOG THAT ACTS ON INSTINCT FIRST, THEN MAY PAUSE TO REFLECT.   GEEEEZZZZ!!!

OK, here’s the link on the dog attack on this innocent kid : http://www.nola.com/news/index.ssf/2008/01/girl_man_mauled_by_dogs_in_tre.html

Bruce breaks through the bubble

As you may or may not know Bruce is a friend that relocated to nashville after the storm, see “louisiana’s lost sheep” in my arhcives. This is been his dream for as long as i’ve known him, about twenty five years, and before that to the best of my knowledge. Anyway he got a heads up in in some recent emails, see below… 

“I just listened to it twice. Congrats! She asked me to mention to you that she’s definitely going to give it some airplay, maybe on several occasions, on the Morning Show between now and Fat Tuesday. I’m also forwarding it to our Mardi Gras field producer Dominic Massa, asking him to possible use it for bumper music on Fat Tuesday to wrap the day’s events. I’m thinking maybe the 6p or maybe the 10p shows. I’ll let you know if I find out where they place it. Meanwhile, ….have a Happy Mardi Gras. And stay in touch.”
Frank Davis
“Naturally N’Awlins”
“Fishin’ Game”
“In The Kitchen”
WWL-TV Channel 4
RE: “Mardi Gras Party”

and
“Hi Bruce:
We’re so happy we could help. We know what it means to miss New Orleans!!!!
OK Bruce, We’re impressed. We’re putting you on the home page of the New Orleans Website Directory for one week, until Friday the 8th. Then we have to get back to our regular business.
We’d like to leave your ads and music on all the Mardi Gras pages indefinitely. We also added you to our New Orleans and Louisiana Celebrities page (you’re right after Britney Spears). You’re already on the New Orleans Bands and Musicians page. so I guess we’ve got you covered my friend.
By the way, We’ve never heard anyone mix zydeco, country, New Orleans jazz and reggae (or is it second line music?) all together before. Jimmy Buffet.is the only other musician we’ve heard who could fuse together Carribean/Reggae sounds with Country. You can do that plus add in New Orleans jazz and cajun/zydeco. Very Cool!!! Also, you ought to think about getting those patriotic songs to the troops somehow. Very touching!!!
If you would like to send us a signed copy CD of your first CD, we would value it greatly!!!
Give us a call anytime. We would love to hear all your good news!!!
Just keep it comin’.”
Happy Mardi Gras
May God bless you and your family/friends.
Robbie and Warren                                

“Bruce would like to thank: Warren & Robbie Roche (New Orleans Website Directory)
Lupo (Jene’s Speacial Blend)  The Topcats Band
and  Dave Liuzza  for selling LSU CD’s so I could make the trip back to Nashville to finish my benefit CD !”
                                   

You really should check out the Mardi Gras song at www.myspace.com/BruceBellott 

“In Dreams and Prayer”

Written By: Kymberly Holm

When I first met Bruce Bellott, I was a little frightened to be honest of his intense enthusiasm and energy. In today’s world with its hustle and bustle, we are too preoccupied with our problems and concerns to show genuine excitement or to even notice that our life is balanced with good along with the bad. Bruce Bellott doesn’t just acknowledge the positives in his life but he is genuinely grateful for all he has been given and makes it a point to share this joy with everyone he meets. Here is his story.
Bruce grew up in Southern Louisiana with a loving mother and an enormous passion for country music. Since Bruce was a little boy, he dreamed of being a country music star. When he graduated from high school, his mother bought him a one-way ticket to Nashville, Tennessee on a Greyhound bus. Bruce was on his own to make it in music city with nothing but his mother’s beloved saying, “Everything happens for the best”. Bruce fell in love with Nashville and did land two singing gigs on Sixth Avenue during his stay. Unfortunately, he became ill and could no longer sing for tips so he was forced to return home to momma.
Once Bruce returned to New Orleans, he went though the routine ups and downs of life. He did continue to play music locally until his first son Chase was born. He was married twice and had two more beautiful children, Mackie and Jenny, to his second wife. He was successful in starting his own car audio business in New Orleans in which he used to support his family and then after eighteen years moved it to Slidell, Louisiana. Bruce had everything; a wife, three beautiful children, and a successful business until…one day he came home to find forty pages of love letters to his wife from another man. He had lost his entire family to a “Shrimp Man”.
In the process of another divorce, struggling with Crones disease & having lost his mother, Bruce moved the business away once again. This time the move was to be away from the Shrimp man who stole his family. During this time, Bruce was also sleeping on the floor of his shop as the Shrimp man took over his home and even fished off his dock! But then really bad got even worse…
Katrina
The people of New Orleans had always expected “the big one” to hit any day and on August 29th, 2005 it did. Hurricane Katrina made land fall at 7:10 AM that morning and shattered the lives and dreams of everyone in her path. Among those hit was Bruce. Luckily, he made it to a three-bedroom cabin in Lake D’Arbonne with his wife and children. They stayed there for three weeks with three other families. After trying to reconcile their marriage and getting nowhere, Bruce and his wife parted ways. This left Bruce, once again, alone and stranded in the state park. Bruce never surrendered his faith however and in his favor the Christian people of Farmerville, Louisiana pitched in to help their neighbors from southern Louisiana. Among the aid that was available for him, Bruce heard of a gift card offered by Wal-Mart that would be of enormous help. Unfortunately, the bus that Bruce took to the shelter arrived after the last bus to Arkansas had left. Bruce was devastated!
Officials told Bruce that there would be no other bus going to Arkansas and that it was the last day to get a gift card. As he turned away, a man named Calvin who had over heard the conversation offered to pray for Bruce in a restroom. Calvin also told him, “you will get your gift card”. As soon as Calvin said Amen and they exited the restroom, a woman named Sharon grabbed Bruce by the arm and said “I’m taking you to Arkansas so you can get your Wal-Mart card, let’s go!”. About half way there, her husband called and asked her where she was. Not knowing where she was supposed to go, Sharon asked her husband if he knew how to get to Elderado, Arkansas. He directed her to the shelter just in time! While waiting for his number to be called Bruce was thinking he would need shoes to sing in when he made it to Nashville. Almost as an instant answer, a man came though the glass doors and walked up to Bruce and said “Where can I put this bag of shoes”. They were Nunn Bush’s & Sketcher Sports and they were a perfect fit! Bruce couldn’t believe what just happened so he walked around the shelter to see if there were any other shoes there and there were only women’s and children’s shoes left! When Bruce made it back to Farmerville, he told Calvin what had happened. Calvin simply smiled and said; ” I told you the lord can do anything if you just pray for it”.
Bruce still had the dream to be a country music singer but now he had an even bigger goal! This goal was to pay back the people of Farmerville and his government for helping him and his family through the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. He was going to write songs about Louisiana and create a benefit CD in order to help with the reconstruction efforts. He knew he needed a vehicle to make the journey to Nashville so he traded in his Wal-Mart card at a local used car lot and drove off in a 1984 Crown Victoria. Unfortunately for Bruce, the car was a clunker and it jerked and overheated all the way to the cabin. Bruce had offered the remaining space in his cabin to a family that had been staying in a tent. They had been rescued by boat and needed a place to stay during the remnants of Katrina. After hearing their story, Bruce was inspired to write his song entitled “Katrina”. Bruce was invited to sing at the Louisiana Chicken Festival in Dubach, Louisiana where he performed his new songs with an acoustic guitar that had made it though Katrina in an upstairs bathroom. When Bruce told someone that his car was never going to make it to Nashville, they said “If you think that, then you better go put your name in the hat for that Chevy van. The drawing closes in fifteen minutes!” With a five-dollar bill and a couple of dollars for gas to make it back to Farmerville, Bruce took the chance of his life and fifteen minutes later the Slidell “evacuee” was the winner of a 1994 Chevy Astro Van!
The next morning Bruce was invited to do a testimonial during the Sunday service. Afterwards, the town’s people of Farmerville were delighted to tell Bruce that they wanted to pay the tax and title fees on his new van. This enabled him to save all of his money for gas on the trip to Nashville. They also treated Bruce to a Donkey basketball game and presented him with a trophy. The trophy was the rear end of a donkey; imagine that!
Bruce spent his days window tinting at heavily discounted rates in order to raise a little money for gas. One day while he was tinting a neighbor’s car an older couple stopped Bruce to ask about the cabin. They told Bruce that they wanted to rent one after their trip to Nashville. When he heard that the couple was on their way to Nashville, he exclaimed, “That’s where I’m going!” Bruce told them that he was going there to do a benefit CD for the victims of Hurricane Katrina. The friendly couple told Bruce that they were personal friends of Porter Wagener and Jim Ed Brown and to give them a note with their names on it and Porter and Jim would definitely listen to Bruce’s songs.
After winning four raffles at the recreation center (Sonic cards, phone cards, food baskets and the Astro Van) Bruce looked at this as yet another sign to continue his journey. An ex football coach of the Farmerville Farmers (Coach Malvin) treated Bruce to his first Rodeo and they became very good friends. Coach called Bruce long after to say that they’re still praying for him down in Farmerville. There were lots of church groups feeding and praying for everyone in the recreation center, but Bruce performed for them and the evacuees and told everyone that he was starting to believe that you could pray for anything! They told Bruce he would make it in Nashville because they were praying for it to happen. Until Bruce met these church groups, he had only thought that you could pray for family, friends, people who were sick, or at a funeral. Bruce was raised Catholic and this sounded kind of greedy to him to have people praying that he would make it in music. He would still rather that everyone not pray for him to make it in music, rather pray that his health stays good long enough for him to have a crack at it!
The night before Bruce left for Nashville, he was asked to sign 25 autographs! Bruce was sitting down for lunch and wondered why all these good things were happening to him. He thought back to a time just weeks before when a storm left holes in his roof and he helped a homeless person who stopped by his business by paying him $300 dollars to fix the leak in his roof! Was it that or was it that Bruce is just an overall nice person who deserved a little return for once? I personally think God was helping him out because he knows that Bruce will pass it forward when he can.
Once Bruce made it Music City, he had trouble finding his way around or a place to park so he could get some sleep. He managed to find an old gospel radio station that had played one of his patriotic songs he sent them after 9-11. He met a man named Hoyt Carter who was working late that night and wanted to hear Bruce’s songs. After hearing them, he said “I’m closing up and you’re coming with me to a Motel. You’re not sleeping in no van”. Hoyt befriended Bruce and took him to Las Palmas Mexican Restaurant, bought him a P.O. Box, paid for two nights in the Motel, and told Bruce that if he ever needed anything to call him. By this time, Red Cross assistance had ended in Nashville but on his third night in town, Bruce slept outside the Red Cross in hopes that they could help. After hearing his story, they made an exception and put him in a Hotel. Like the time he was extended a $50 gas card and the time someone else mailed him a check for $500. I’m beginning the think that Bruce Bellott has a lot of overdue Karma coming due. For the most part though, Bruce turned down donations saying that he would much rather work for the money.
The first studio Bruce called was Shadow Lane Studios where owner/producer Phillip Wolfe had him sing a bit of “Katrina” over the phone. After hearing his song, Phillip agreed to record the song and give him a steep discount on making his benefit CD, “Katrina Evacuee Meets Tennessee” which was done with two other evacuees.
Bruce believes whole-heartedly that God is his co-pilot. This belief became a reality when he became lost one day in Nashville looking for ASCAP. He had an appointment and being lost almost made him miss it. He rolled down his window to ask for help and believe it or not, the first person he asked said “I was there last night, follow me”! As they drove off, Bruce asked God if he was in the passenger seat. He made it through rush hour traffic, following the man with his floor buffer on a trailer, just in time to make his appointment. Herky, the ASCAP screener, told him that his song would work on the Grand Ole Opry! A few days later Bruce set out to find all the television stations in order to share his amazing story but was worried about running out of gas. He happened to turn a corner and every television station was lined up outside a Government building waiting to catch a story. Of course, Bruce parked his van and gave out his CD and story to every station that he could.
Since then, Bruce has performed his songs at the Blue Bird Cafe, two Katrina benefits, and the bars of lower Broadway. On one occasion, at a Dick Cheney event, Bruce was mistaken for a terrorist and restrained. After taking the handcuffs off and listening to Bruce’s songs, the secret service agents apologized and said that they would give Bruce’s patriotic songs to the President’s staff with high recommendation! He also performed in Hendersonville at their annual Fourth Of July Fest. It was there where he met his new friends. Bruce is currently working for Brian Hayes, owner of Brian’s Motorsports in Hendersonville. Brian has taken him in as family and as a fellow Christian and would do anything for him.
Having been recently diagnosed with Lupus, learning of Crones disease, losing his mother suddenly (who I hear danced every chance she could get), losing his car audio business, his Toyota Tundra, the chance to see his children grow up, everything he had worked for to Katrina and then going through a bad movie where an ex-Police officer who was fired from two forces in Montana, known as the “Shrimp Man” in Slidell, befriended Bruce only to write 40 pages of brainwashing love letters to his wife…
Bruce “Buscoyo” Bellott still remains the most positive and optimistic man I know. His faith rivals most and he still believes that…”Everything happens for the best”.

What a great article written about you Bruce. It’s funny, sad and shows a man’s love for his family and music. I think your story would make for a great movie too. I think an ugly actor with warts on his nose should play the shrimp man. The man who should play you Bruce is that sexy country singer, Geoege Strait. Thanks for your call Bruce, you sound so happy to me and I’m so happy for you. I’ll try and keep in touch more and know that I care about you. I just know you’re going to make it big……Evy

God Bless Country Singer, Bruce Bellott
He’s very sweet and he’s very hot
Bruce is funny and has a great singing voice
The boy can sing, he’s the people’s choice
Sing your heart out Bellott, you’re up there wth the best
With legends like, Jennings and Jones, plus all the rest
Like the Titans, Bruce Bellott is all the rage
First on the radio, then on ”Grand Old Opry” stage
Evy Lysk, Benton, Pa
The Patriot’s Voice
www.the-patriot-s-voice.com
WE LOVE BRUCE BELLOTT

OK!, Now there is proof ladies, we can’t control it!

Research has shown that aggressiveness is an addiction, they haven’t said so exactly, but remember where you were sitting when you read this. I am officially declaring that we must be allowed to watch football, fight with the guys at the bar, ride motorcycles, skydive, have affairs (OK, i threw that one in for fun) and engage in other manly things cause we can’t help it, or else. You see aggression stimulates the same part of the brain, in men, as sex, need i saw more. HEY!?? Where are the drug companies, they should be pouncing on this with all six legs.

Your honor my client couldn’t help himself, the guy at the drive-thru caused the problem when he put salt on the defendant’s fries. The restaurant employee, should have seen, as any reasonable citizen would or should have seen, that the defendant was a man. Your Honor, my client is a victim of his brain chemistry. Currently there are no treatments for this illness, he must suffer in silence, so your Honor, my client is as much a victim as the “burger jockey”, sorry your Honor. While my client did shove the fry cook’s face into the deep fat fryer, he should not be held accountable for this incident.

From the makers of “youllgetsometrim” (see my blog “the cure for lack-a-nookie”) introducing “sheeltakeapunch”. It strengthens the ability of your friends and family to take a hit. There is no cure for “man syndrome”. You should not hit anyone when you are experiencing an outburst, it is still possible to hit someone and infect them even when you are not showing signs of an outburst. When hitting you should wear protection, like boxing gloves, while this does not protect you from AIDS and other sexually transmitted diseases, it will reduce the risk of exposure. Tell your partner if you suffer from this afflicion.

“New research from Vanderbilt University shows for the first time that the brain processes aggression as a reward—much like sex, food and drugs—offering insights into our propensity to fight and our fascination with violent sports like boxing and football.

The research was published online the week of Jan. 14 by the journal Psychopharmacology.

http://www.vanderbilt.edu/exploration/stories/aggression.html ”

Bruce Bellott — Dumbass’ of Dixieland Grand Marshall

My friend Bruce has done it again. He wrote another song about Mardi Gras. We all know how much of a shortage of those there are. While i like most of his songs, he likes them all, he has some good ones, the LSU one, the first Mardi Gras song and “We still stand free”.  You see i have affectionately called Bruce “dumbass” for quite a while now, you’d have to know him for as long as i do to understand why i call him that, hence the title. But that’s not why i have come to you today. If i hear the phrase “Titan Troubadour” one more time I’m gonna scream! Bruce went to Nashville after Katrina and decided to stay, now he calls himself the Titan Troubadour. So I’m asking you, no begging you to go to his site and listen to a song, my favorite one is the second Mardi Gras one, and then buy an album so he can come home and stop calling himself the “Titan Troubadour”. WHAT THE HELL IS A TROUBADOUR ANYWAY?!?!?! Thank god for spell check, if only it gave definitions. Because if you don’t, I’ll have to call him something other than Dumbass, and no-one’s gonna be happy about that! I don’t know if he’ll do any live singing while he’s down for carnival, anyway check out the link below:

PS. if you ever meet him in person, just for fun ask why i call him “dumbass”

http://www.myspace.com/BruceBellott