I am completely fine with Religions of any kind. I don't care what you believe in, that being said; Intelligent Design is a complete joke, stop ramming it down my kids throats. Keep Religion out of schools, unless it's a Bible College, ( which is a misnomer by the way! BIBLE COLLEGE? PEOPLE!) Catholic School,Yeshiva or Seminary.
Did you notice that all the schools I mentioned had something in common. Yeah, they were private schools. Not PUBLIC SCHOOLS. PUBLIC SCHOOLS, are for the public, run by localities which use the communities taxed monies to FUND said SCHOOL. GET IT! Therefore, due to the fact that I am a citizen of this great nation that has in it's Constitution, (does anyone remember that? It's the law of the land), a law that says that CHURCH and STATE must be separate, you cannot push JESUS or any other god on my kids in a PUBLIC SCHOOL!
PEOPLE! THE SEPARATION OF CHURCH AND STATE. ITS IN THE CONSTITUTION. WHAT THE HELL!
The Constitution doesn't say. "Oh, you know. That JESUS and his Dad's teachings, they're okay! Let's get the word out!" It also doesn't say. "BUDDHA, BUDDHA, he's our man! If he can't do it NO ONE CAN!"
It says actually, smoking a pipe, like an great clear headed thinking man, that puts his shoes after his pants, one after the other. "If we can learn anything from History, it's that absolute power corrupts absolutely and since Religion was used as a weapon in the past, when connected to any form of government, best to keep that Religion stuff where it belongs in the citizenry homes and places of worship."
So that means, Keep year Jesus to yourself. Please. Thank you. Cause he comes in many different flavors and you might not like my flavor of Jesus, it has coconut as well as the blood of the lamb.
But, Hell...If you want to teach creationism... Sorry! INTELLIGENT DESIGN, then don't stop there, creepy Republican, I mean SIR or Madam, let's teach them all! God's jumping out of heads and the world on a Turtle's back and world sized ovens, and wolves nursing twins and God spitting into a bowl. All of them, I mean one myth is as good as another right?
It's all theories, anyway isn't it? Darwin and his Evolution and Natural Selection, TISH TOSH! Who does he think he is Copernicus? They both have as much proof as the guys that have decided with brows clenched, "Wow, Nature, is SO complex. NO way that it could just HAPPEN... It's Like IMPOSSIBLE. Dude (long pause, air sucking sound in the background.) I think it was GOD. Hear me OUT, BRAH! (coughing, more coughing) He's Adding up the numbers with his giant God calculator. Computing the differences and creating the giant MySQL Database in the heavens from which we are all COMPLIED MAN! C'mon, give me another hit! Don't bogart the doob, I'm communing!"
And before you Damn me to Hell, remember Bob Marley was a frequent communer.
Monday, September 26, 2005
Saturday, August 06, 2005
MEET THE NEW BOSS....
Right before Frank Sinatra died, I read or heard a thing on him somewhere, that talked about how he was, for a long time, one of the voices, if not The Voice of an era, and how at the end, when he finally died; When Frank finally kicked that bucket and bought that farm, it would be the end of something that made us, here in the USA, what we are.
I know that sounds kind of dated and old school, in that kind of Greatest Generation talky talk stuff that we, Gen-xer's ( for the love of mike!) have gotten our noses rubbed in for years. But it's kind of true. And It brings me to this thing that I really want to tell you about.
Yah, I am part of that "demo" for which that heinous term was coined. Generation-X. I grew up on the Brady Bunch, I Love Lucy and The Honeymooner's on re-runs and the Six million Dollar Man, Three's Company and MASH in first-run. I watched the Dukes of Hazzard, ALOT. Even thought I thought it was silly Hillbilly crap, and i listened to ALOT of freaking ROCK AND ROLL.
I grew up on Classic Rock, that's what they call it now. Pink Floyd, Led Zep, Kansas, Queen. That stuff. I looked forward to the Rolling Stones going on tour cause that would mean that a new album was coming. I loved the Beatles and was sad when john was killed.
The funny thing was, that even thought I loved that stuff, I was sheltered from the rest of it. I didn't know about the "NEW WAVE" until after it had been hitting for a while and when someone turned me on to "PUNK", I was almost offended, but got over it pretty quickly after the third time I heard anything by the Sex Pistols, and they were broken up and parts of them where dead by then. The Hair Bands came and went and when Alternative hit, I think i lost a tooth and then it was gone, and now although, there are still some solid acts out there, that's it, some solid acts. But no real future. Unless you think Bowling for Soup has a future.
Walking home, about a week ago, I caught sight of something terrible. it hit me like shot to the gut, it was kid. He was just coming out of that awkward, bad facial hair, arms-to-long-for-torso, part of adolescence. He need a hair cut and he was wearing a t-shirt that said, in big letters, ROCK IS DEAD. LONG LIVE THE RAPPER AND THE DJ.
Now, this is some mighty bold talk. I mean ROCK? DEAD? WHA? What is this kid wanting an ass kicking? Or at least a shaving? How can anyone, ever, say that, or at least put it on a T-shirt? I mean, how pedestrian. Except. Kid's right.
ROCK N' ROLL, the Juggernaught that challenged the way we think of everything ever in America. From Elvis' swaying hips to Jim Morrison's hog exposure to Neil Young Rocking the Free World. Rock, that was the Voice of a Generation. and again in capital letters. WAS. Rock is OLD SCHOOL now. It's an old sound, it's that old song... again. Can anyone hear the laughter?
I can hear you rallying around that flag and yelling FOR THOSE ABOUT TO ROCK! but that army, she just ain't what she used to be. Rock, was fueled by rebellion, hate, anger, lust and apathy, all the things that young people live on cause they got nothing else. Well, it's fueled by money, now. I don't want to see the Stones tour anymore, cause that means there's a new album coming.
But the New Boss! He's the same as the OLD BOSS! MAN! Yah he is. Rap is run on money, but I knows it. It relishes it and it's fed by rebellion, hate, anger, lust, and apathy as well, but it doesn't wear that "Ha-Ha Jokes on the kids" smugness that Rock wears today. The Stones are in the same boat as their fan's. We can make the MICK IS OLD joke as much as we'd like but guess what? Joke's on you cause you are getting old too, and what's more, you gotta see them one last time, like when we were kids. How does that feel? Well, let me tell you how it feels. like it's the end of something... something that made us what we were, here in the USA.
I know that sounds kind of dated and old school, in that kind of Greatest Generation talky talk stuff that we, Gen-xer's ( for the love of mike!) have gotten our noses rubbed in for years. But it's kind of true. And It brings me to this thing that I really want to tell you about.
Yah, I am part of that "demo" for which that heinous term was coined. Generation-X. I grew up on the Brady Bunch, I Love Lucy and The Honeymooner's on re-runs and the Six million Dollar Man, Three's Company and MASH in first-run. I watched the Dukes of Hazzard, ALOT. Even thought I thought it was silly Hillbilly crap, and i listened to ALOT of freaking ROCK AND ROLL.
I grew up on Classic Rock, that's what they call it now. Pink Floyd, Led Zep, Kansas, Queen. That stuff. I looked forward to the Rolling Stones going on tour cause that would mean that a new album was coming. I loved the Beatles and was sad when john was killed.
The funny thing was, that even thought I loved that stuff, I was sheltered from the rest of it. I didn't know about the "NEW WAVE" until after it had been hitting for a while and when someone turned me on to "PUNK", I was almost offended, but got over it pretty quickly after the third time I heard anything by the Sex Pistols, and they were broken up and parts of them where dead by then. The Hair Bands came and went and when Alternative hit, I think i lost a tooth and then it was gone, and now although, there are still some solid acts out there, that's it, some solid acts. But no real future. Unless you think Bowling for Soup has a future.
Walking home, about a week ago, I caught sight of something terrible. it hit me like shot to the gut, it was kid. He was just coming out of that awkward, bad facial hair, arms-to-long-for-torso, part of adolescence. He need a hair cut and he was wearing a t-shirt that said, in big letters, ROCK IS DEAD. LONG LIVE THE RAPPER AND THE DJ.
Now, this is some mighty bold talk. I mean ROCK? DEAD? WHA? What is this kid wanting an ass kicking? Or at least a shaving? How can anyone, ever, say that, or at least put it on a T-shirt? I mean, how pedestrian. Except. Kid's right.
ROCK N' ROLL, the Juggernaught that challenged the way we think of everything ever in America. From Elvis' swaying hips to Jim Morrison's hog exposure to Neil Young Rocking the Free World. Rock, that was the Voice of a Generation. and again in capital letters. WAS. Rock is OLD SCHOOL now. It's an old sound, it's that old song... again. Can anyone hear the laughter?
I can hear you rallying around that flag and yelling FOR THOSE ABOUT TO ROCK! but that army, she just ain't what she used to be. Rock, was fueled by rebellion, hate, anger, lust and apathy, all the things that young people live on cause they got nothing else. Well, it's fueled by money, now. I don't want to see the Stones tour anymore, cause that means there's a new album coming.
But the New Boss! He's the same as the OLD BOSS! MAN! Yah he is. Rap is run on money, but I knows it. It relishes it and it's fed by rebellion, hate, anger, lust, and apathy as well, but it doesn't wear that "Ha-Ha Jokes on the kids" smugness that Rock wears today. The Stones are in the same boat as their fan's. We can make the MICK IS OLD joke as much as we'd like but guess what? Joke's on you cause you are getting old too, and what's more, you gotta see them one last time, like when we were kids. How does that feel? Well, let me tell you how it feels. like it's the end of something... something that made us what we were, here in the USA.
Monday, April 04, 2005
WHY ADVICE COLUMNS ARE GREAT...
There are people out there that are completely lost. Adrift in a black sea, clutching a the shrinking inner tube of their own delusions while the dark sharks cut the water, swimming ever closer, big teeth of doubt and insecurity flashing in the waxy moonlight.
Scary...I know! Almost as disturbing as the last few seconds of any episode of "LOST" or "Will and Grace". But there is hope for these poor tortured souls. There's a beam of light that cracks that darkness open. A tether-line striking out of the mist and pulling them in to a safe, bright, calm harbor. Who are these guardsmen? Why are they alone willing to dredge the Dark Sea of Doubt and risk life, limb and maybe carpal-tunnel syndrome in this all out dangerous gambit to help their fellow man?
WHO? WHY? WHEN? You ask a lot of questions, man! Yeshhhh! I thought I was a curious! But cower not in the cold, wet darkness of your own ignorance. Come out and behold this place of enlightenment and learn of where you and every dumb, sad, silly paly of yourn can get their answers to questions that can break the strongest of souls. Yes! In the distance. On that rock. Over to your right! No, your other right...YES! There they are! Our intrepid super-friends, THE ADVICE COLUMNISTS!
Okay stop choking. That's where I was always headed. Yah, of course I mean it. And this is why. When the average Joe or Jolean has a problem with their Mother-In law, Lover, Postman, Neighbor, Dog-walker, Cleaners, Automobile and or Mechanic, Hardware store ETC. First they ask what to do from their best-friends.
Well, you know what happens. They don't know, anything. EVER. Cause they are as stupidly bumbling as the person asking the question. So thwarted, plan B is broached. And after asking a couple of people that are considered friends, although not in the "best" category, the same question and getting the same blank-look and/or headshake followed by the same wide-eyed wonder you get from a primate at the zoo when you tie your shoe, it's time to go to the experts.
It's time to fire up the Word Processor or whateveah-berry or java enabled webphone or brick-though-a-window-withanoteonit device, whatever it is that you people use to send electronic mail now-a-days and shoot that missive to the people with the answers.
The only people in the world that will not only give a answer to why you suck...But what to do about the sucking and how to make sure you never suck again!
Amazing! Wondrous! The non-sucking. Oh the joy, how it pops and oozes from every pore.
Wait a minute! I'm not a loser! I can answer my own questions! I have been known to fix my own problems on my own. Damn it. I have a lawn mower, A LAWN MOWER! I change my own damn oil, My lover has sighed with fabulous exhaustion, I have been know to talk to my and my neighbor's in-laws in a very civil tongue and know a hammer from a haircut. Also I pay my bills on-line and matched up my Dog-walker and Postman, and they have been together for 11 weeks. 11 bliss filled weeks! So there. Tongue out and fungus exposed.
Okay. I got it handsome. Sure, that fungus isn't eating everything in your mouth and lying eggs in your stomach and there are people like you that are human hatcheries for space viruses and can figure out when to use the rotary saw and when to use the vibrator and there are people out there that have to ask questions like...
Will wearing a Male chastity belt often...A lot...More than you can ever think.. Hurt my chances for future erections?
When at a wedding, is it polite to fight with the groom and or various groom's men and the father of the bride to make a point about a recent sporting event. I wasn't drunk, not by a long shot, but my lawyer says I should say I was.
When turning left at intersection where only right turns are permitted...Should I signal?
At the neighbors daughter's graduation party, Is it advisable to hit on lady of the house, then later, the honored daughter and then proposition both, commenting that the hot tub isn't the only thing hot around here. Woof Woof? ( that barking sound is included.)
Could a person be considered Gay while not IN LOVE,(unrequited as it is) so to speak with a friend of the same sex, wouldn't mind jumping headlong into said friends pants for a well earned week of R and R? Yah his girlfriend could watch. BUT NO TOUCHING. THAT MANWICH IS MINE!
Yah! I know all of you have asked anyone of these questions. And the last one maybe twice by some of you. Advice columnist have the tools, forged in the very heart of heaven to smash the answers down on those pesky questions. Crushing them, bringing them low.
So put your pants on. Get outta that bathroom and off the phone. Those friends of yours, they cant help you. They are dumb, just like you. Some...Dumber. Finally write that letter to Dear Abby, Ann Landers, Dan Savage, Elvis Presley, Bob Ubanks, and Axel Rose. Ask them that question, on that thing that stops you from being the best thing since sliced bread. Get your answers! You deserve it.
Scary...I know! Almost as disturbing as the last few seconds of any episode of "LOST" or "Will and Grace". But there is hope for these poor tortured souls. There's a beam of light that cracks that darkness open. A tether-line striking out of the mist and pulling them in to a safe, bright, calm harbor. Who are these guardsmen? Why are they alone willing to dredge the Dark Sea of Doubt and risk life, limb and maybe carpal-tunnel syndrome in this all out dangerous gambit to help their fellow man?
WHO? WHY? WHEN? You ask a lot of questions, man! Yeshhhh! I thought I was a curious! But cower not in the cold, wet darkness of your own ignorance. Come out and behold this place of enlightenment and learn of where you and every dumb, sad, silly paly of yourn can get their answers to questions that can break the strongest of souls. Yes! In the distance. On that rock. Over to your right! No, your other right...YES! There they are! Our intrepid super-friends, THE ADVICE COLUMNISTS!
Okay stop choking. That's where I was always headed. Yah, of course I mean it. And this is why. When the average Joe or Jolean has a problem with their Mother-In law, Lover, Postman, Neighbor, Dog-walker, Cleaners, Automobile and or Mechanic, Hardware store ETC. First they ask what to do from their best-friends.
Well, you know what happens. They don't know, anything. EVER. Cause they are as stupidly bumbling as the person asking the question. So thwarted, plan B is broached. And after asking a couple of people that are considered friends, although not in the "best" category, the same question and getting the same blank-look and/or headshake followed by the same wide-eyed wonder you get from a primate at the zoo when you tie your shoe, it's time to go to the experts.
It's time to fire up the Word Processor or whateveah-berry or java enabled webphone or brick-though-a-window-withanoteonit device, whatever it is that you people use to send electronic mail now-a-days and shoot that missive to the people with the answers.
The only people in the world that will not only give a answer to why you suck...But what to do about the sucking and how to make sure you never suck again!
Amazing! Wondrous! The non-sucking. Oh the joy, how it pops and oozes from every pore.
Wait a minute! I'm not a loser! I can answer my own questions! I have been known to fix my own problems on my own. Damn it. I have a lawn mower, A LAWN MOWER! I change my own damn oil, My lover has sighed with fabulous exhaustion, I have been know to talk to my and my neighbor's in-laws in a very civil tongue and know a hammer from a haircut. Also I pay my bills on-line and matched up my Dog-walker and Postman, and they have been together for 11 weeks. 11 bliss filled weeks! So there. Tongue out and fungus exposed.
Okay. I got it handsome. Sure, that fungus isn't eating everything in your mouth and lying eggs in your stomach and there are people like you that are human hatcheries for space viruses and can figure out when to use the rotary saw and when to use the vibrator and there are people out there that have to ask questions like...
Will wearing a Male chastity belt often...A lot...More than you can ever think.. Hurt my chances for future erections?
When at a wedding, is it polite to fight with the groom and or various groom's men and the father of the bride to make a point about a recent sporting event. I wasn't drunk, not by a long shot, but my lawyer says I should say I was.
When turning left at intersection where only right turns are permitted...Should I signal?
At the neighbors daughter's graduation party, Is it advisable to hit on lady of the house, then later, the honored daughter and then proposition both, commenting that the hot tub isn't the only thing hot around here. Woof Woof? ( that barking sound is included.)
Could a person be considered Gay while not IN LOVE,(unrequited as it is) so to speak with a friend of the same sex, wouldn't mind jumping headlong into said friends pants for a well earned week of R and R? Yah his girlfriend could watch. BUT NO TOUCHING. THAT MANWICH IS MINE!
Yah! I know all of you have asked anyone of these questions. And the last one maybe twice by some of you. Advice columnist have the tools, forged in the very heart of heaven to smash the answers down on those pesky questions. Crushing them, bringing them low.
So put your pants on. Get outta that bathroom and off the phone. Those friends of yours, they cant help you. They are dumb, just like you. Some...Dumber. Finally write that letter to Dear Abby, Ann Landers, Dan Savage, Elvis Presley, Bob Ubanks, and Axel Rose. Ask them that question, on that thing that stops you from being the best thing since sliced bread. Get your answers! You deserve it.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
VALENTINE'S DAY AND HAND RENTAL
So, Valentine's Day has come and gone, and that means that NOVELITY STORES (read adult book stores) have made a killing, mostly on things that partners would never buy each other over the course of the time they're together. EVER. Because these NOVELITIES (read dildos and what not) are too embarrassing to give to a loved one. I mean. What would they think of you? Oh my, A 9 inch pink dildo? A fuzzy pair of handcuffs? Ben Wah balls? What the hell is she going to do with those? Hey, I know what it says on the box and she doesn’t like me to use words like "carefully" and "insert" in the same sentence, and "lubricate" is right out.
Valentine's Day frees one from the worry of being considered too freaky. Everyone is game on V-DAY. Everyone is wild and more explorative than Cortez in Florida. Cause that double-headed 18-inch black dildo is going to be used. At least once. I mean there are two of us aren't there? HELL! Everyone is game on Valentine's Day! Saint Valentine's Day. It's named for a Saint. Your putting that Dildo where the sun don't shine on a Day named for a Saint. Think about that for a minute. Yah. Wash those hands boys and girls.
This is to laugh. I think people should embrace those darker parts of they’re psyche. The parts that make them want to wear the short skirt, fishnets and heels while the girlfriend is in the sailor suit on shore leave and about to ship out for 6 months. Why? Dress-up was fun when you were a kid and now, with the optional, (but always expected) happy ending, its just plain killer! Kink is entertaining, ‘cause variety is the spice of life. Life is too short, you have it and then it's gone, and as long as no one gets hurt the paddle should be used, she’s been a bad girl. SHE SO HAS!
This bring's to an Idea that I have been kickin' around for a while. HAND RENTAL. Hand Rental, you say, eyebrow perked up, Spock pose. No. Not Hand Rental. HAND RENTAL. I RENT HANDS. MINE. HAVE HANDS WILL TRAVEL. For what? What's the purpose? Most people have hands, why do they need yours?
Well some hands are willing to do things that other hands wouldn't care to do. Some hands are willing to get dirty. Down and Dirty. That's right. With BIG Double D's. I'm talking about able bodied, hard working hands. Sometimes with TOOLS, sometimes without. I have my own tools but will be happy to rock and sock it with yours, clean sets only please. Hands willing to get the job done. Ready to get Medieval on some ASS. And when I say ASS, I mean behinds. Butts, the BUDONOCKADONK, you catch my wave playa?
That's right. I'm laying the spankth down! 'Cause that's my thing. I'm bringing the (moderate) Pain to a behind near you. The rates? Modest. The time? Adjusted to your schedule. The pleasure? All mine, baby. You should give me call. We will talk. Ladies only need apply. OH YEAH....
Yep. Hope you had a happy one, 'till next time.
Next up - Advise Columns
Valentine's Day frees one from the worry of being considered too freaky. Everyone is game on V-DAY. Everyone is wild and more explorative than Cortez in Florida. Cause that double-headed 18-inch black dildo is going to be used. At least once. I mean there are two of us aren't there? HELL! Everyone is game on Valentine's Day! Saint Valentine's Day. It's named for a Saint. Your putting that Dildo where the sun don't shine on a Day named for a Saint. Think about that for a minute. Yah. Wash those hands boys and girls.
This is to laugh. I think people should embrace those darker parts of they’re psyche. The parts that make them want to wear the short skirt, fishnets and heels while the girlfriend is in the sailor suit on shore leave and about to ship out for 6 months. Why? Dress-up was fun when you were a kid and now, with the optional, (but always expected) happy ending, its just plain killer! Kink is entertaining, ‘cause variety is the spice of life. Life is too short, you have it and then it's gone, and as long as no one gets hurt the paddle should be used, she’s been a bad girl. SHE SO HAS!
This bring's to an Idea that I have been kickin' around for a while. HAND RENTAL. Hand Rental, you say, eyebrow perked up, Spock pose. No. Not Hand Rental. HAND RENTAL. I RENT HANDS. MINE. HAVE HANDS WILL TRAVEL. For what? What's the purpose? Most people have hands, why do they need yours?
Well some hands are willing to do things that other hands wouldn't care to do. Some hands are willing to get dirty. Down and Dirty. That's right. With BIG Double D's. I'm talking about able bodied, hard working hands. Sometimes with TOOLS, sometimes without. I have my own tools but will be happy to rock and sock it with yours, clean sets only please. Hands willing to get the job done. Ready to get Medieval on some ASS. And when I say ASS, I mean behinds. Butts, the BUDONOCKADONK, you catch my wave playa?
That's right. I'm laying the spankth down! 'Cause that's my thing. I'm bringing the (moderate) Pain to a behind near you. The rates? Modest. The time? Adjusted to your schedule. The pleasure? All mine, baby. You should give me call. We will talk. Ladies only need apply. OH YEAH....
Yep. Hope you had a happy one, 'till next time.
Next up - Advise Columns
Thursday, February 10, 2005
IN THE BEGINNING...
This Blog was going to be called "Musings by the tumtum tree". Yah, that was taken.
Instead we will go with the frustrated shout of DAMN THE BANDERSNATCH! Why not? It's as Lewis Carroll as it can get. Or is that Lewis Carrollish.. deadauthor_like? I, of course, digress.
Deadauthor_like, I think that will be my new email name. Anyway... Well, the problem doctor is... It's like this, I muse. I muse alot. I muse. I joke. I jest. I cojole. I talk a great deal, mostly outloud. and mostly as loud as my petite frame ( HA!) would bare. There I have an expounding problem. There I said it. Now on to the first of the twelve steps.
After years of hearing about blogs and bloggers hearing the call to blog, and realizing that the last big MEGA TREND that I could thnk of involved people putting on special shoes and running or as they called it in the 70's, JOGGING. See the amazing Irony yet? Similar sounding trends. One about motion and a expression of physicallty and the other a sedimentary study in stillness, except of course for the typing. OH KAY! WIth me now. Follow. Because we are the FATTEST NATION in the world. FATTER than you can imagine. You know that Guy at the amusement park that is so fat you can't believe that they could make a car big enough to bring him there and feel sorry for the person who sat next to him on the bus, in the ninety degree weather, if there wasn't. And then you find out that he was the guy in the Mini...with the person that could be his Mother but might be his Girlfriend...THAT GUY! That is AMERICA, and everyone else waiting for the BATMAN RIDE is the rest of the world. Just to help put it in perspective. The non-movement is one of the things that everyone is doing and Boy! is it Hot! Finger to my butt making the expected shusshing sounds though the teeth. Always through the teeth, people!
Anyway. I though i should try my hand at it. I'm a frustrated writer. But I want to write. About stuff. This isn't a journal or a political rant, althought there are times it might turn into both. I'm just going to tell ya stuff. Open the floodgates of the mind, if you will.
With that said. Lets take a trip and see where it goes.
Next up. Hand Rental and Advice Columns
Instead we will go with the frustrated shout of DAMN THE BANDERSNATCH! Why not? It's as Lewis Carroll as it can get. Or is that Lewis Carrollish.. deadauthor_like? I, of course, digress.
Deadauthor_like, I think that will be my new email name. Anyway... Well, the problem doctor is... It's like this, I muse. I muse alot. I muse. I joke. I jest. I cojole. I talk a great deal, mostly outloud. and mostly as loud as my petite frame ( HA!) would bare. There I have an expounding problem. There I said it. Now on to the first of the twelve steps.
After years of hearing about blogs and bloggers hearing the call to blog, and realizing that the last big MEGA TREND that I could thnk of involved people putting on special shoes and running or as they called it in the 70's, JOGGING. See the amazing Irony yet? Similar sounding trends. One about motion and a expression of physicallty and the other a sedimentary study in stillness, except of course for the typing. OH KAY! WIth me now. Follow. Because we are the FATTEST NATION in the world. FATTER than you can imagine. You know that Guy at the amusement park that is so fat you can't believe that they could make a car big enough to bring him there and feel sorry for the person who sat next to him on the bus, in the ninety degree weather, if there wasn't. And then you find out that he was the guy in the Mini...with the person that could be his Mother but might be his Girlfriend...THAT GUY! That is AMERICA, and everyone else waiting for the BATMAN RIDE is the rest of the world. Just to help put it in perspective. The non-movement is one of the things that everyone is doing and Boy! is it Hot! Finger to my butt making the expected shusshing sounds though the teeth. Always through the teeth, people!
Anyway. I though i should try my hand at it. I'm a frustrated writer. But I want to write. About stuff. This isn't a journal or a political rant, althought there are times it might turn into both. I'm just going to tell ya stuff. Open the floodgates of the mind, if you will.
With that said. Lets take a trip and see where it goes.
Next up. Hand Rental and Advice Columns
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