Happy Halloween to The Groovie Goolies

Happy Halloween to “The Groovie Goolies”

It seems to me that the entire Groovie Goolies cartoon series was made from about 25 or so animated clips, most of them contained in these videos. Imagine a cross between Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-in and The Munsters and you have some idea of what The Groovie Goolies were all about.

They had a joke wall.

They had musical acts.

The monsters had a band,

and some haunted furniture had a band,

but neither of them could lip-sync worth a damn. They told jokes. Sometimes someone would get a bucket of water dumped on them from off stage.


The Groovie Goolies started as a spin off of Sabrina the Teenage Witch, itself a spin-off of the Archies, another band with terrible lip-syncing ability.

While the Archies and Sabrina the Teenage Witch live on even today, the Groovie Goolies lasted only one 17 episode season, from 1971-72.


I never liked the Archies or Sabrina the Teenage Witch, but at 9 years old, I really liked haunted houses. I watched the Groovie Goolies for ideas that I could use in the “haunted dungeon” I created in the basement of my childhood family home.


The Groovie Goolies took place at Horrible Hall, a haunted castle owned by “Drac”, a gay vampire with false teeth, who was also Sabrina’s uncle.

“Drac” shared his home with his boy-toy “Frankie” a somewhat dim, but hunky Frankenstein monster.


Wolfie”, a wolfman, was their dealer. He’d come by to sell drugs and stick around for the party. “Wolfie” was clearly the coolest member of the cast, in his board shorts and Birkenstocks.

. He surfed, played a cool-looking guitar

and drove a bitchin’ car.

He remains a role model for me to this day

There were chicks,

including that hottie Sabrina.

There were kids.

They had pets.

Other assorted freaks dropped by from time to time.

The party never stopped at Horrible Hall.

In many ways, the Groovie Goolies reflected life in the ’70s as well as the Archies reflected the ’50s.

While it is a shame that the show didn’t last, I’m sure things went downhill for them personally, before long. Drac and Frankie probably died of AIDS in the ’80s. Wolfie did a ten year mandatory minimum sentence for possession with intent to sell. Horrible Hall, already condemned in 1971, was eventually demolished and replaced with an Chi-Chis Mexican restaurant, that has since gone out of business.

Nonetheless, this Halloween, The Groovie Goolies turn 40. Even though they died in infancy, The Groovie Goolies had a lasting impact on my life, and I honor them for that.

On The Money, Trick or Treat

On The Money

Financial Advice for the Working Class

Trick or Treat

I don’t know about your town, but Trick-or-Treat has gotten unbelievably lame around here, so lame that teenagers wouldn’t be caught dead Trick-or-Treating anymore. I don’t blame them a bit.


First, Trick-or-Treat now happens in broad daylight. No self-respecting Trick-orTreater ever goes out until after dark. These days, parents, in street clothes, lead their toddlers around the neighborhood dressed in licensed, store bought costumes, depicting trademarked TV superheroes and cartoon characters, in the middle of the afternoon.


Even the kids look perplexed. “Why do we do this?” They all seem to say. Why, indeed? All that’s left of Trick-or-Treat is the stuff you spend money on: corporate costumes, corporate candy, dollar store decorations, none of them scary. They’ve outlawed or done away with everything else. How did it come to this?


I blame the media. Any time someone got hurt or killed Trick-or-Treating, the Press made a big deal of it. Kid gets hit by a car on August 31, not news, but a kid in a costume gets hit by a car on October 31, big news. The media unnecessarily sensationalized Trick-or-Treat mishaps, like kids eating drugged candy, biting into apples with needles stuck in them, or getting hit by cars on dark roads. Widespread reports of these isolated incidents whipped the public into a frenzy that allowed churches, “do-gooders” and cops to chop the balls off of Halloween.


Trick-or-Treat is supposed to be dangerous…dangerous and scary, and it’s supposed to happen at night, in the dark. No flashlights, no reflective material, wearing mostly black, homemade costumes with identity concealing masks, we’d go door to door begging for candy, with the threat of real mischief. Trick-or-Treat meant “cough-up the sweet stuff or we’ll TP your house, leave a flaming bag of dog-do on your porch, or shmush a moldy rotten pumpkin on the windshield of your car.


Yes, Trick-or-Treat is all about aggressive panhandling after dark. That’s why it’s called “Beggars Night”. Superheroes don’t beg. Cartoon characters don’t beg. Grotesque, deformed, diseased, and demented people beg. Scary-looking, dangerous and needy people beg. Drug-addicts, bums and street urchins beg. Proper Trick-or-Treat costumes reflect this.


When these hideous, pitiful creatures knock on your door, recoil in horror, give them a treat, and thank your lucky stars that you don’t share their fate. Or, scare them off by jumping out of the bushes in your own hideous costume, when they approach the door. But, if you refuse to answer the door, and offer no treats, you probably deserve whatever they do to you because you were too much of a coward to face them directly.


I think its high time to reclaim “Beggars Night”. Begging, not prostitution, is the oldest profession. Like prostitution, begging will outlast us all. Begging is a part of life, its part of the fabric of our culture that won’t go away. On “Beggars Night” everyone can be a beggar, and everyone in your community will know how you treat the beggars who come to your door.


In this way “Beggars Night” teaches young people how to treat the unfortunate people who will ask them for help throughout their lives, and why its important not to turn your back on them. It seems that too many adults in this area never learned that lesson. While begging is shameful, its not nearly as shameful as it is to be uncharitable to strangers in need.


Besides that, “Beggars Night” used to be a hell of a lot of fun! There’s a view of Trick-or-Treat that’s On The Money.

Two Short Poems About Death

When Death Comes Knocking

When Death comes knocking at your door

He is not one to abhor

But ring his bell and run away

For that, my friend, you’ll dearly pay


Now you’re Dead

You’ve lived your life, and now you’re dead

Was there something else I should have said

Last rites, to you, have been read

Now the worms will eat your head

My 100th Post, and First Apology

My 100th Post, and First Apology


First the apology: if you read this blog regularly, you know I’m an idiot. Last week I included an image in a post that I very much regret including. I have since removed and replaced it with a more appropriate image. The image included text in a foreign language that did not say what I thought it did. While I am an idiot, and stupidly neglected to translate the text before I posted it, I’m not that kind of idiot. I very much regret the mistake, and sincerely apologize to everyone who saw it, and especially anyone it offended.


Other than that, anything else you found, or find offensive in this blog was intentional. Fuck you.


By now, there’s plenty else here to offend your sensibilities, because this is my 100th post here at lygsbtd.wordpress.com You might not think its a big deal. After all, for you, this stuff just magically appears every Tuesday. For me, however, this blog is a constant struggle to find something to write about. This 100th post means something to me. It means I’ve reached a milestone worth celebrating. It means I have a body of work here to reflect on, and most importantly, it gives me something to write about this week.


I started this blog about 6 months ago. 100 posts later, the blog has begun to take shape, develop its own character and attract its own audience. So, you have here, a collection of everything I’ve felt like writing about for the last six months.


Clearly the most popular regular feature at lygsbtd is “On The Money, Financial Advice for the Working-Class”. While the airwaves, internet, and newsstands overflow with financial advice for the investment class. I recognized that Working-Class Americans have differing financial needs and economic interests from the investment-class. You’ll find the advice I offer, radically different from what you find in Barons or The Wall St. Journal. You’ll find 17 “On The Money” columns among the first 100 posts.

17 “On The Money”

It’s Smart to be Dumb

Who’s Default is it Anyway

Double-Dip or Banana Split

Labor Day and NPR

Too Much Information

Why Can’t We All Get Along

Time v Money


The Collapsing Middle-Class

Cultural Bankruptcy

A Golden Opportunity for Investors

The Blue Chips

Stock Market Investing


The National Debt

Public Education


You will also find 17 “Word Power” pieces. This is kind of a “milk-carton project” for lost words. I regularly scan the dictionary for words that seem to slip through the cracks of our modern lexicon. I post them, with their definitions, and encourage people to use them in context. That way, these words can get out and socialize a bit. Words that only appear occasionally in print, rarely get to associate with the spicier expletives that pepper my, and my readers daily speech. My blog is one place where where the vulgar and the arcane can mingle.

17 “Word Power”


















Among these first 100 post you will find 12 poems. I don’t know how you feel about poetry. I don’t care for it much, myself, but it pays the bills. Ever since my first anthology of autobiographical poems about growing up in an old New England whaling town came out, I’ve had the luxury of doing what I want in life without having to worry so much about money. “The Man From Nantucket” quickly became an American classic, and I still receive royalties every quarter from the x-rated film adaptation, which I also starred in.

12 Poems

The Second Dip

Please Vote for This Blog

We’re Going Bowling

For the Birds

Dr. William Gilly and the Humboldt Squid

Patriotic Poem for Ronald Reagan


An Apotropaic Moment

The 3:00am Phone Call

A Wife’s Discovery

An Existential Poem


My real passion, however, is writing, including the occasional poem.  Like many writers, I often write about my local community:

Local Humboldt Co. Flavor

A New Emerald City

Humboldt’s Lesser Known Festivals

Riot at Romano Gabriel Exhibit

Economics of Shit in SoHum

Andrew Goff, Romano Gabriel Win Me a Sundae

SoHum Suffers from a Shortage of Homeless People

New Courses HSU Should Offer

Stay Away From the Water in SoHum

So Long, Old People

Only in Humboldt County

SoHum Town Attempts Bold Makeover

My Blog Ties for 5th

When I really can’t think of anything else to write about, I’ll review something I like. So far I’ve reviewed one band, one album, one zine and one grocery store.


4 Reviews

Grocery Store Review, Eureka Natural Foods

Album Review, Aphrodite’s Child 666

Zine Review, The Black Lamp by Ocra

Band Review, CMKT 4

Of the remaining 38 essays, These are some of my favorites:

Some of My Favorites

How to Party now that the Party’s Over

How to Score With Women

The lygsbtd Giftshop

A Feminist Critique and T-Shirt Offer

How to Mainstream The Tea Party

Hello Necrophiliacs

Terrific New Product, and Site Sponsor, MyPee

I Report From the Paris Air Show

New Drug Infused Junk Foods

Don’t Call Me a Journalist

Invasion of the Google-bots

Including this post, that adds up to one hundred posts, enough to build a pretty long fence.

Don’t Call Me a Journalist

Don’t Call Me a Journalist

I don’t write this blog to edify. I don’t write this blog to inform. I write this blog to entertain…myself mostly, but a growing number of you seem seem to enjoy it as well. So, when people complain about factual inaccuracies, misleading statements or erroneous deductions, I simply refer them to the blog of someone who gives a fuck.


Some people get all bent out of shape about something they call “objective reality” full of things called “hard facts” that we can all agree on. Nothing could be further from reality. These people watch too many court dramas. The real world is nothing like a court trial, and real court trials are nothing like courtroom dramas. “Objective reality” is every bit as imaginary as Law and Order, and “hard facts” are about as relevant as Perry Mason.


What matters in the real world is perspective….my perspective. From my perspective I can tell you how it is, in a way that you can recognize as authentic. That’s why no one complains about the factual inaccuracies in this blog. You all know that I’m right, and what I say is true, despite the intentional lies and deception. That’s what’s wrong with journalism, too many fake facts, too much phony objectivity, and not enough real perspective.


These college educated news writers all believe they hold some sacred office as journalists, because allegedly, for democracy to function, we need a flourishing free press. Well democracy has failed. What fucking good did all of that phony baloney objectivity accomplish? Are people better informed? Has it elevated the level of debate? Are elected officials more accountable? Hardly!


Journalism has done more to dumb down Americans and narrow their world more than reality TV, video games, and hip-hop music combined. In reality, to maintain the illusion of democracy, “objective journalism” must flourish. Without phony “objectivity”, that antiquated Greek institution called democracy crumbles like a stinky pile of feta cheese.

Journalists report on scientific studies, interview political wonks, and quote statistics to us as though they were conveying some god-like overview of our world. This phony objectivity creates the illusion that the only way to address our problems is through the policies of a central god-like government, a tremendously stupid and dangerous idea.


Journalism buries the real perspectives of real people who live in the real world beneath empty statistics, irrelevant opinions, and a smug air of professionalism, smothering the truth like a helpless baby who won’t stop screaming.


Yes, journalism and democracy died in bed together years ago. Like everything else that matters in life, it didn’t make the news. The cause of death, an incurable STD they both contracted while working as whores for business.


People wonder why I laugh when they talk about “Journalistic Ethics”. There’s no honor among these thieves, when a bland story by a disinterested observer caries more weight that the perspective of an impassioned participant. Most news-writing is just lame voyeuristic crap pumped out to fill the space between ads, and it’s inexcusably bad. Ethics don’t make you a better writer.

Ultimately, the only thing a writer owes a reader, is a good read, and ethics are no excuse not to deliver the goods.

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On The Money, It’s Smart to be Dumb

On The Money

Financial Advice for the Working Class

It’s Smart to be Dumb

Some people say my writing is dumb. They say it’s base, vulgar, silly, low-brow, sophomoric, knuckle-dragging crap, and it really hurts my feelings. Did they really have to say it was crap? But screw them! They think writing should be sophisticated, restrained, measured…”smart”. They want to read stuff that makes them feel smart. Really, they are no smarter than I am, and I’m as dumb as they come.


A lot of people like to read stuff that makes them feel smarter. Then they like to make a big deal about how much they know. They post degrees on the wall that proclaim that they know damn near everything there is to know about X. They make such a big deal about it that they forget how fucking boring it all is.


Why are people so obsessed with being smart? … as opposed to being, say, competent? Why does our culture value “smart” so highly? Look at what “smart” does: Albert Einstein, the smartest guy ever, what did he do? He invented the atomic bomb. Rocket scientists, what do they do? They make missiles that carry atomic bombs and spy satellites. Who else is smart? Derivatives traders? Our elected leaders? Just “smart” people doing “smart” things.


We can’t all be smart. “Smart” is like a sport. It’s a contest. You only get called “smart” for being smarter than normal. Smarter than normal people go to college, study physics and economics, which prepares them for a career of being “smart” for the rest of us. They become the “experts” and “professionals” who run our businesses, guide our national policies, and engineer the machinery of our society. In other words, they make most of our decisions for us.


Meanwhile, they expect the rest of us, the “dumb” working-class, to be “competent” for them. They expect us, to prepare their food, clean their clothes, fix their cars, build their homes, install their high-speed internet, even raise their kids.


The working-class has always done a great job of this, by the way. The working-class have proven their competence again and again. We can build homes a million different ways. We can build and maintain cars, electric cars, steam cars, diesel cars and gas cars, cheap cars and luxury cars. We can cook to all tastes, with a world of traditions to draw from. We have to be flexible, because what we do is rarely our own choice. We mostly make the stuff that the rich want, and that “smart” people think the rest of us need, want and can afford.


While the working-class has, historically, done a fantastic job of adapting to a ghastly array of horrible situations in this endeavor, the “smart” people have, in contrast, done a spectacularly terrible job of engineering our society in a way that meets people’s needs without destroying the planet. Who can we blame, for so many competent people, living in a world so full of extreme poverty and tremendous waste? The “smart” people of course.


How did the “smart” people manage to screw it up so bad. To be fair, it’s not exactly the “smart” people, who make all of the decisions. They work for the “greediest” people. It’s the “greediest” people who have been sifting out the smarter people all along. That’s why they built schools in the first place. That, and to get the rest of us used to doing what we are told for no good reason.


The “smart” people all believe, however, that somehow, through their collective “smartness”, and with the backing of the “greediest” people, or at least big bucks from the taxpayers, they can engineer a solution to all of our problems. They all believe in a technological solution. A high-tech solution, that only “smart” people could ever figure out.


They continue to believe this despite their unbroken string of catastrophic failures. Throughout history, from plagues of locusts and frogs resulting from, then new, agricultural techniques, to war, famine, the black plague, crowd diseases, genocide, slavery, sweatshops, habitat loss, pollution, and global climate change, to name a few. These problems have all resulted from technological advancements that were supposed to make life better for everyone.


Fifty years ago, most of us believed in them too. Sure we had just been through the most horrific technological war in the history of the world, culminating the explosion of the first atomic bomb, and all that, after living through “The Great Depression” the very first global economic collapse. Fifty years ago, we still trusted “smart” people, in service to the”greediest” people to engineer a society for us. All we asked in return was “jobs”.


They gave us suburban sprawl, smog, pollution, burning rivers, habitat loss, inequality, poverty, more bloody technological wars, and global climate crisis. Do you still believe in them? Do you still believe that “smart” people, in service of the “greediest” people will ever engineer a “solution” to a problem that doesn’t make a bigger problem? Do you want to bet money on it? Do you want to bet your life on it?


You see, without “smart” people, the “greediest” people don’t wield nearly as much power, and without the “greediest” people, being “smart” really isn’t that important. This bears repeating: Without “smart” “greed” has little power, without “greed”, “smart” is not very important.


What really matters in life, is competence, knowing how to build your own home, clothe yourself, feed yourself, and safely dispose of your waste. Everyone should know that stuff. Competence is its own reward, and involves no competition. You don’t have to be more competent than your neighbor, you just have to be competent enough to meet your own needs.


If you happen to be “smart”, do something fun with it, something delightful. Don’t just whore it out to the highest bidder, just so you can afford to pay someone to clean your toilet for you. How smart is that? I think we’d all be better off, if we didn’t worry so much about how “smart” we are, and worked a little more on our competence.


As far as writing goes, I believe that if you can’t find a dumb way of saying something, maybe it doesn’t need to be said at all.

Invasion of the Google-bots

Invasion of the Google-bots

OK, what are you, and who are you doing here? I mean, who are you, and what are you doing here? According to my statistics, this site gets thousands of “visits” a week. I see very few comments, no “likes”, yet every week, I get more and more “visits”. If you don’t “like” what you read here, why do you keep coming back?


If you are a real person, I ‘m really glad you are here. Please don’t misunderstand me. I want real people to read my work, but I find it hard to believe that thousands of people read “On the Money, Work” every week, but no one leaves a comment.


That seems strange to me. I’d comment. I’d say something like “Right ON, work SUCKS!!!” and I’d click the ‘like” button. But, I wrote the piece. If I didn’t like it I’d still comment, I’d say “Fuck you!! get a job, you lazy hippie!!!!”. Either way, I’d say something with a liberal sprinkling of exclamation points. If I just thought the piece was stupid, I probably wouldn’t say anything, but then I wouldn’t come back to the site. So, what gives?


The Professor suggested that Google-bots may be sucking up my bandwidth. Google-bots! What kind of web-vermin are they?. What are they doing here? How can I get rid of them? Doesn’t AVG protect me from them, or do I have to call an exterminator?


I don’t want to kill you, or drive you away from this blog, provided you are a real person. And I don’t mind a bot or two, cruising through now and again, but they shouldn’t be swarming all over my blog. If they bother you while you are here, please let me know.


Why is Google sending swarms of Google-bots to my blog? What’s with their moto, anyway: “Don’t be evil”? Greedy, sure, ruthless, absolutely, invasive and prying, fine, but not evil. Well roaches aren’t evil either, but I don’t want them crawling all over my blog!


No, I want you to enjoy a clean, polished blog without any verminous Google-bots. So, I did some research into these matters and learned a few things about Google-bots and other browser parasites. I discovered the following site:

Browser Delouser

 I ask anyone who was directed to this site, from a Google search, to click this link. It will take you to the Browser Delouser, which removes Google-bots and stops their proliferation. I encourage you to bookmark this page, and visit it after every Google search.


The Browser Delouser removes Google-bots, Windows-worms, Apple-borers and Linux-lice. These vermin, rather than invade your computer, mostly stick to the leading edge of your browser, sucking up bandwidth, by sending data streams of your web-browsing habits, ogling the porn you download, and sending text messages to their friends.


While they are not computer viruses themselves, they often carry viruses and other computer infections. So, it pays to limit your exposure to them. I run a nice clean blog here, let’s keep it that way.