Ah, the Fourth of July.

The day we Americans commerate our founding fathers, who stuck their collective asses in the air and said to King George, "Kiss this you goddamned looney!"

And we should do it to a current jackoff who has shot his wad earlier today, seven times actually, because he can't get it up in his bedroom ("That's okay, Kimmie-poo, things like this hap..." That's as far as she got before had he her shot).

If I was the president of this great land, I would have an interceptor missile on standby near North Korea so that the next time he shoots his wad, we can shoot it down and tell that little turd's where he can shove the rest of his phallic substitutes.

I bring bad tidings.

My cat Punk, the subject of 'A Story Most Inspiational', use up his nine lives. About three weeks ago, he injured his other leg and, while no bones were broken, it became infected. The vets tried their best but he only got worse so last Friday, I had him put down.

Felt like an Eskimo putting him on an ice flow.

What goes around comes around.

This is the basic concept of Karma, which is founded in Buddhism and Hinduism, as well as in both Christain and Muslim theologies.

It basically states that our actions in this life will determine what will happen to us in the next life. That WE are responcible for our own destinies.

While I really don't know what will happen when I cross over into the Undiscovered Country, whether I'll be reencarnated until I reach Nirvanna, or get 72 virgins or meet St.Peter at the pearly gates (If I go by what most people say, I'll probably end up in Hell), I do know that we do experience Karma in this life, that the way we live our present will effect our future.

Case in point: A family member, we'll call him Dick.

Dick has always considered himself as a 'Rock 'n Roll Rebel', a person with a real 'Fuck You Attitude'. While Dick wasn't always a prick, there were times he could be an abusive son of a bitch.

Dick was the dark side of the counterculture, drinking and drugging and always looking for a way to 'screw the Man'. But what gets me is that he wasn't stupid. He is very intelligent and good with electronics.

This 'Rock 'n Roll Rebel' spent years living either with his mother or with anyone who would support him, in other words, he was a Peter Pan looking for a Wendy. And if he didn't get his way, he would erupt in violent temper tantrums.

In the end, he did marry one and tried to settle down, even got a job. But his 'lovable personality' eventually ended that marriage. Plus, he ended up with the house. His drinking led to liver cancer, but after it went into remission and he was cured, guess what he started doing again.

About four months ago, Dick experienced Karma. He failed a drug test and lost his $22.00 an hour job. He was forced to sell his car and home. Don't know where he's living now, but at age 56 and his mother in a better place, he doubt he'll find himself another 'Wendy'.

And while I do feel sorry for him, I can't say he doesn't deserve it.

What goes around comes around.

As A rule, I avoid sappy 'inspirational' stories due to Diabetes, so I'll try to be as acidic as I can.

I have a cat named Jessie. That was the name my nephew Jonathan gave him. I call him Punk. Punk is 15 years old and has a cataract in his left eye. He used to suck on my earlobe like I was a mommy cat. Cats often do that if they're taken from the litter too soon. I used to tease Jonathan by telling him that Punk was gay.

Resently, Punk injured his left hind leg which eventually had to be amputated. Most people thought I was crazy. They thought that it would be 'more humane' to put him to sleep because of his age and his left eye.

Actually, that would've been cheaper and less trouble. But I didn't. Why? Because a day before I took him to the vet, Punk caught a mouse. To me that showed he wasn't ready for the Dirtnap Eternale.

Now comes the 'inspirational' part.

Punk has adopted fairly well to being a tripod. He still gets around, even better since we got that goddamned cone off his neck.

But this morning, after I got my coffee and shock treatments, Punk followed me up stairs to my bedroom. Ol' Hopalong actually made it up the steps. I was impressed.

He may never catch another mouse again, but he's far from retirement, eh?

On January 13, Patrick McGoohan, has escaped the Village for the undiscovered country at the age of 80.

McGoohan was the co-creator and star of my favorite TV series 'The Prisoner', inwhich he played Number Six, a former spy kidnapped and imprisoned in a mysterious village, engaging a battle of wits with its authorites as he tries to escape while they try to discover why he resigned from the British government.

McGoohan was one of many who inspired me to become a writer, especially the episode 'Free For All', a bighting satire on the policial process, which he wrote and directed.

He is also one of my favorite actors. His brief preformance in 'Braveheart' out-acted Mel Gibson right off the screen. My favorite scene: King Edward Longshanks grabbing a guy and throwing him out a window because the poor lad thinks 'he knows what he's talking about'. He even goofed his Number Six persona in an episode of 'The Simpsons'.

Rest in peace, Number Six. May you find out who Number One is.