It's unavoidable when we stand on the precipice of a new year that we look back and give everything that happened the once over before putting it in the memory box. It's just human nature that we try to make sense of our careers, relationships and growth.
Of course, truth is, there's very little sense to be had. Mostly we just react to situations the best we can and hope things turn out for the best. However, that doesn't mean we should stop trying.
I started 2010 with some goals. I achieved some and failed at others. One of the big goals was to return to writing fiction. I finished a few stories, some poems and the first part of a three-part novel. But some projects were left unfinished and that needs to get rectified in 2011.
So, here's my challenge for 2011 -- finish what you start. That's all. Just finish what you start. It's simple and to the point. Think of all the small and big things that we start and only get halfway done. Imagine if you finished every project you started. It's mind blowing, isn't it?
OK here's my bold predictions for 2011.
Aliens will come to Earth, talk to us, meet our leaders and decide the trip was a waste of time.
Researchers will discover that trans fats are the only thing keeping most of us healthy and make recommendations that we all eat 100 oreos a day.
Ditto with smoking.
Gas prices will fall to 25 cents a gallon after most cars are converted to running on trans fats. That's right, trans fats are the new miracle substance.
Nabisco becomes the world's richest company (see predictions 2 and 4).
For some reason Australia becomes a wasteland and only Mel Gibson can save it. (wait that may be a series of movies from the 80s, eh, whatever)
We will have good times with each other including, but not limited to: good meals; companionship; and wacky fun.
Last thoughts on 2010:
Politics: Really? Really? The Tea Party? I oughta slap you.
Religion: Nothing terrible happened in religion this year, so that makes it a great year for religion. No popes died; this year's scandals were the same as last years and the Dalai Llama is still plugging away.
Taxes: I paid my fair share.
Death: It's only death that makes life so precious.
Zombies: No apocalypse this year. Maybe next.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
Santa is awesome. AWESOME I SAY
WHAAT? Some jerk just posted a blog calling Santa evil. How is that possible? For God's sake he brings toys to little kids. What kind of maladjusted human being goes after Santa?
Wait, it was me?
Well, let me just say, I must be wrong. Santa has made children the world over happy for generations and will continue to do so for generations to come. Although, his single-minded obsession with children seems to be a bit creepy. Not to mention that at some point he was supposed to have helpers who were either black or shackled demons.
Still, Santa is an institution. A harbinger of all that is good and heck, Coca Cola has all but given us this holly jolly good-natured fellow. They even say so on their website, "Most people can agree on what Santa Claus looks like -- jolly, with a red suit and a white beard. But he did not always look that way, and Coca-Cola® advertising actually helped shape this modern-day image of Santa. Starting in 1931, magazine ads for Coca-Cola featured St. Nick as a kind, jolly man in a red suit. Because magazines were so widely viewed, and because this image of Santa appeared for more than three decades, the image of Santa most people have today is largely based on our advertising.
Before the 1931 introduction of the Coca-Cola Santa Claus created by artist Haddon Sundblom, the image of Santa ranged from big to small and fat to tall. Santa even appeared as an elf and looked a bit spooky."
Uh, wait, does this mean Santa is an advertising whore? No, I won't believe it. He is Santa DAMNIT.
Now Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. He was a shill. He was created by the Montogmery Ward's department store and he was their exclusive property. The song was written by an advertising man.
Now I'm confused. I still say Santa is awesome. Now give me a damn gift you fat bastard.
Top Signs Santa Loves You
1. He left you that inappropriate lingerie. But it was nice lingerie.
2. You take a shower on xmas morning get out and there's a heart with "You my Ho, HO Ho" written in condensation.
3. He gives you something, even if you've been a little naughty.
4. You reach into your stocking and find a Nintendo DS.
5. He ate the cookies and drank the milk.
6. He gave you a Lexus and that jerk of a cousin only got socks.
7. Hey, he brought egg nog.
8. He never asks for anything in return.
9. He left you some Coke. (uh, the drink. Ya.)
10. Duh, gifts.
Wait, it was me?
Well, let me just say, I must be wrong. Santa has made children the world over happy for generations and will continue to do so for generations to come. Although, his single-minded obsession with children seems to be a bit creepy. Not to mention that at some point he was supposed to have helpers who were either black or shackled demons.
Still, Santa is an institution. A harbinger of all that is good and heck, Coca Cola has all but given us this holly jolly good-natured fellow. They even say so on their website, "Most people can agree on what Santa Claus looks like -- jolly, with a red suit and a white beard. But he did not always look that way, and Coca-Cola® advertising actually helped shape this modern-day image of Santa. Starting in 1931, magazine ads for Coca-Cola featured St. Nick as a kind, jolly man in a red suit. Because magazines were so widely viewed, and because this image of Santa appeared for more than three decades, the image of Santa most people have today is largely based on our advertising.
Before the 1931 introduction of the Coca-Cola Santa Claus created by artist Haddon Sundblom, the image of Santa ranged from big to small and fat to tall. Santa even appeared as an elf and looked a bit spooky."
Uh, wait, does this mean Santa is an advertising whore? No, I won't believe it. He is Santa DAMNIT.
Now Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. He was a shill. He was created by the Montogmery Ward's department store and he was their exclusive property. The song was written by an advertising man.
Now I'm confused. I still say Santa is awesome. Now give me a damn gift you fat bastard.
Top Signs Santa Loves You
1. He left you that inappropriate lingerie. But it was nice lingerie.
2. You take a shower on xmas morning get out and there's a heart with "You my Ho, HO Ho" written in condensation.
3. He gives you something, even if you've been a little naughty.
4. You reach into your stocking and find a Nintendo DS.
5. He ate the cookies and drank the milk.
6. He gave you a Lexus and that jerk of a cousin only got socks.
7. Hey, he brought egg nog.
8. He never asks for anything in return.
9. He left you some Coke. (uh, the drink. Ya.)
10. Duh, gifts.
Santa is evil, EVIL I SAY
Santa brings toys to all the good little girls and boys. That's the corporate line we've been fed since we were children. But I'm telling you it just aint true.
Santa isn't a good guy. He's pure evil. Who is he to say if someone was naughty or nice? He's a dictator, a renegade making moral judgements about you. Supposedly, he rewards good behavior, but what does he consider good behavior. That behavior, however, is never specifically spelled out. Does it even exist? Who is to say there is an absolute good or evil? Apparently, Santa Claus. It seems to be far to relativistic for me. So, I'm saying there is no good behavior, just behavior he likes and dislikes.
Don't let Santa fool you into his relativstic moralism, bound by social norms and unthinking compliance. Throw off the shackles and chains of Christmas repression.
Top ten signs Santa Hates You
1. It's always me, me, me. How about thinking about Santa for once, you ungrateful little bastards.
2. Know what he made those new gloves out of? Your pony.
3. You were good all year and you still got a lump of coal.
4. He gave your asshole cousin a Lexus and you get socks.
5. You got a Christmas sweater that says "Santa Hates You."
6. You reach into your stocking hoping for yummy candy and you get reindeer poop.
7. You wake up in the morning to find a reindeer head in your bed.
8. Take a hot shower on xmas morning, get out and find "Ho, Ho, Dead" has been written on the mirror's condensation.
9. Why does the nog taste like pee?
10. The holiday ham has been violated.
Bad Things Santa Does in Your House
1. That ain't egg nog in the fridge.
2. He took the last can of Who Hash. (That may not be Santa)
3. He stole your mom's favorite necklace and framed the house cleaner.
4. Two words: Milk backwash.
5. He likes to sniff your dirty socks.
6. His philosophy is, if it's yellow its mellow.
7. Ever wonder why your daughter's cheeks are so rosy? No one else in the family has them.
9. Wonder why that new sweater is all stretched out of shape?
10. In Southern latitudes he wears little more than a thong, and he likes to sit on your couch
Santa isn't a good guy. He's pure evil. Who is he to say if someone was naughty or nice? He's a dictator, a renegade making moral judgements about you. Supposedly, he rewards good behavior, but what does he consider good behavior. That behavior, however, is never specifically spelled out. Does it even exist? Who is to say there is an absolute good or evil? Apparently, Santa Claus. It seems to be far to relativistic for me. So, I'm saying there is no good behavior, just behavior he likes and dislikes.
Don't let Santa fool you into his relativstic moralism, bound by social norms and unthinking compliance. Throw off the shackles and chains of Christmas repression.
Top ten signs Santa Hates You
1. It's always me, me, me. How about thinking about Santa for once, you ungrateful little bastards.
2. Know what he made those new gloves out of? Your pony.
3. You were good all year and you still got a lump of coal.
4. He gave your asshole cousin a Lexus and you get socks.
5. You got a Christmas sweater that says "Santa Hates You."
6. You reach into your stocking hoping for yummy candy and you get reindeer poop.
7. You wake up in the morning to find a reindeer head in your bed.
8. Take a hot shower on xmas morning, get out and find "Ho, Ho, Dead" has been written on the mirror's condensation.
9. Why does the nog taste like pee?
10. The holiday ham has been violated.
Bad Things Santa Does in Your House
1. That ain't egg nog in the fridge.
2. He took the last can of Who Hash. (That may not be Santa)
3. He stole your mom's favorite necklace and framed the house cleaner.
4. Two words: Milk backwash.
5. He likes to sniff your dirty socks.
6. His philosophy is, if it's yellow its mellow.
7. Ever wonder why your daughter's cheeks are so rosy? No one else in the family has them.
9. Wonder why that new sweater is all stretched out of shape?
10. In Southern latitudes he wears little more than a thong, and he likes to sit on your couch
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Work on Snowflake
So, I haven't blogged in a while, and I haven't spent much time on facebook or twitter, either.
Why? Well, social media is a vampire. It sucks out productivity and leaves you with banal one-liners and vapid video chuckles. People post videos or little jokes and mistake that as their own creativity. Normally, I'm OK with that, but not when I'm working on writing.
Here's the deal. I asked people if they wanted me to continue writing a love story called Dancing with Robin and I posted a few paragraphs to show where the idea was going. Only one person said they wanted to see more. That's enough for me. But I decided to ditch the one-week time limit and spend some time actually thinking about what I wanted to write. That part is done and the actual writing has commenced. It should be done in time for Christmas, so consider it your Xmas gift.
Here's what I've decided. First, the story is now called "Snowflake" and it is written in the style of a fairy tale. Why? Because romantic love is a shared fairy tale. We decide to overlook the things we don't like about a person and focus on the qualities that we do like. We are willing to give that person a chance,in other words. That has to be a mutually shared delusion or it becomes one-sided love. So every couple who fall into romantic love, is living in a type of shared delusion.
Is it a bad delusion? No. It's a necessary one. We need to believe. It's intrinsic to our nature as humans and believing in love is the ultimate expression of our nature. It's such a powerful thing that it can change us for the better. It can open us up to the possibility of the world being a better place. And we strive to make it a better place because of love. Dante believed that everything that we do on this earth and in heaven is driven by our belief in love and God's love for us. It is the salvation of mankind to love one another and through that, love the universe.
Everyone is unique and every love is unique, that's why the story's name is now "Snowflake." The two characters in this story are creating their own style of love and they have to create their own world for their love to exist. That's why love is a fairy tale. It's not the real world. All couples live in their own world when love is new. The real test comes as the romantic delusion falls away, and we have to integrate what we have learned in the journey into a life together. But that's another story.
So, look forward to "Snowflake." Oh ya, I've decided it's the first of a four-story arc about different kinds of love. One for each season. This first one is Winter. Romantic love is important in winter because it's a time to look inward and be together. We find warmth together against the cold around us.
That's all for now.
Why? Well, social media is a vampire. It sucks out productivity and leaves you with banal one-liners and vapid video chuckles. People post videos or little jokes and mistake that as their own creativity. Normally, I'm OK with that, but not when I'm working on writing.
Here's the deal. I asked people if they wanted me to continue writing a love story called Dancing with Robin and I posted a few paragraphs to show where the idea was going. Only one person said they wanted to see more. That's enough for me. But I decided to ditch the one-week time limit and spend some time actually thinking about what I wanted to write. That part is done and the actual writing has commenced. It should be done in time for Christmas, so consider it your Xmas gift.
Here's what I've decided. First, the story is now called "Snowflake" and it is written in the style of a fairy tale. Why? Because romantic love is a shared fairy tale. We decide to overlook the things we don't like about a person and focus on the qualities that we do like. We are willing to give that person a chance,in other words. That has to be a mutually shared delusion or it becomes one-sided love. So every couple who fall into romantic love, is living in a type of shared delusion.
Is it a bad delusion? No. It's a necessary one. We need to believe. It's intrinsic to our nature as humans and believing in love is the ultimate expression of our nature. It's such a powerful thing that it can change us for the better. It can open us up to the possibility of the world being a better place. And we strive to make it a better place because of love. Dante believed that everything that we do on this earth and in heaven is driven by our belief in love and God's love for us. It is the salvation of mankind to love one another and through that, love the universe.
Everyone is unique and every love is unique, that's why the story's name is now "Snowflake." The two characters in this story are creating their own style of love and they have to create their own world for their love to exist. That's why love is a fairy tale. It's not the real world. All couples live in their own world when love is new. The real test comes as the romantic delusion falls away, and we have to integrate what we have learned in the journey into a life together. But that's another story.
So, look forward to "Snowflake." Oh ya, I've decided it's the first of a four-story arc about different kinds of love. One for each season. This first one is Winter. Romantic love is important in winter because it's a time to look inward and be together. We find warmth together against the cold around us.
That's all for now.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
The joys of being zombie
As the wonderful "The Walking Dead" ends its first season, it's time to reflect on all things zombie.
First off, what is a zombie? Most of the recent incarnaions appear to be people who have been brain damaged by some sort of mutant virus, but they are still in some sense alive. I give "The Walking Dead" kudos for going completely dead with their zombifications.
Originally, a zombie was a reanimated corpse or possessed person created by the use of voodoo. Bokors, or sorcerers, created the zombies, and they were under the direct control of the sorcerer. Hence, the reason in my story Saving the World for $12.50 an Hour, the Zombie Master makes it a point to say no one controls him.
There do appear to be actual cases of zombification by voodoo. Check out "The Serpent and the Rainbow" and "Passage of Darkness: The Ethnobiology of the Haitian Zombie" for information on how zombies are made. Heck, "The Serpent and the Rainbow" was a pretty creepy movie, too. Using neurotoxins and powerful halucinatory drugs, bokors can induce a death-like state and a state of trance where through which they can control a person.
The word zombie entered into America through "The Magic Island" by W.B. Seabrook in 1929. It was a zombie story set in Haiti (who says Haiti never gave us anything)and deals with the walking dead created through the use of voodoo.
OK, that's enough background. Let's just say zombies rock and they've been freaking us out in America for nearly 100 years. Here's some zombie thoughts for you:
Top ten things zombies can teach us
10. It doesn't matter if you're gay, straight, black or white, people are awesome -- with barbecue sauce.
9. Be goal oriented. (braiiins)
8. Know what you want and go after it. (braiins)
7. Cardio is important.
6. Fashion doesn't matter, it all turns to tatters in the end.
5. Don't be so worried about your appearance. So he's got green skin and yours is just a mass of open scars, we're all zombies.
4. Don't forget to double tap.
3. Your dreams (of brains) can come true, if you pursue them (people). --Zombie Walt Disney
2. Seize the day, because tomorrow you could be the walking dead.
1. Brains are what matter most.
Top ten tweets of the zombie apocalypse.
10. Fresh brains zom zom zom
9. OMG I just shot my mom in the head. I also hear zombies are attacking.
8. Finally, a use for my Humvee. Running over zombies.
7. H8trs h8t, z0mbies 8
6. Icanhaz braaaaiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnss LOL
5. Wooo Hooo, I'm the last man on earth. I can finally get with Jenny. Too bad she's a zombie.
4. KOGI Truck ROJA has no lines. Come get your kimchee quesadillas while they last.
3.RT@glennbeck See this is what O does. We all know he's really a zombie. His father was a foreign zombie. He's helping the zombies people. wake up.
2. Braaaaaiiiiinnnnnnsssss
1. Briiiiaaaaannnnnnnnsss
First off, what is a zombie? Most of the recent incarnaions appear to be people who have been brain damaged by some sort of mutant virus, but they are still in some sense alive. I give "The Walking Dead" kudos for going completely dead with their zombifications.
Originally, a zombie was a reanimated corpse or possessed person created by the use of voodoo. Bokors, or sorcerers, created the zombies, and they were under the direct control of the sorcerer. Hence, the reason in my story Saving the World for $12.50 an Hour, the Zombie Master makes it a point to say no one controls him.
There do appear to be actual cases of zombification by voodoo. Check out "The Serpent and the Rainbow" and "Passage of Darkness: The Ethnobiology of the Haitian Zombie" for information on how zombies are made. Heck, "The Serpent and the Rainbow" was a pretty creepy movie, too. Using neurotoxins and powerful halucinatory drugs, bokors can induce a death-like state and a state of trance where through which they can control a person.
The word zombie entered into America through "The Magic Island" by W.B. Seabrook in 1929. It was a zombie story set in Haiti (who says Haiti never gave us anything)and deals with the walking dead created through the use of voodoo.
OK, that's enough background. Let's just say zombies rock and they've been freaking us out in America for nearly 100 years. Here's some zombie thoughts for you:
Top ten things zombies can teach us
10. It doesn't matter if you're gay, straight, black or white, people are awesome -- with barbecue sauce.
9. Be goal oriented. (braiiins)
8. Know what you want and go after it. (braiins)
7. Cardio is important.
6. Fashion doesn't matter, it all turns to tatters in the end.
5. Don't be so worried about your appearance. So he's got green skin and yours is just a mass of open scars, we're all zombies.
4. Don't forget to double tap.
3. Your dreams (of brains) can come true, if you pursue them (people). --Zombie Walt Disney
2. Seize the day, because tomorrow you could be the walking dead.
1. Brains are what matter most.
Top ten tweets of the zombie apocalypse.
10. Fresh brains zom zom zom
9. OMG I just shot my mom in the head. I also hear zombies are attacking.
8. Finally, a use for my Humvee. Running over zombies.
7. H8trs h8t, z0mbies 8
6. Icanhaz braaaaiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnss LOL
5. Wooo Hooo, I'm the last man on earth. I can finally get with Jenny. Too bad she's a zombie.
4. KOGI Truck ROJA has no lines. Come get your kimchee quesadillas while they last.
3.RT@glennbeck See this is what O does. We all know he's really a zombie. His father was a foreign zombie. He's helping the zombies people. wake up.
2. Braaaaaiiiiinnnnnnsssss
1. Briiiiaaaaannnnnnnnsss
Sunday, November 28, 2010
story time
OK, here's the deal. This is an idea for a story. I'm giving you the idea, the first line and how I want it to end. I haven't written down anything else. Do you want to read more? If you do, I'll write it and post it within a week.
Dancing with Robin
By Kevin Lindsey
Idea: Searching for a perfect moment with the perfect girl.
Nothing is ever perfect -- ever.
The snow shifted from flurries to flakes as we walked out of the coffee shop.
White dots danced in the little breezes of passing cars, giving us cool kisses on our faces as they landed and turned back into water. Then I think I feel a warm breath on my cheek and her lips brush my cheek. I turn and she runs ahead laughing.
I chase. I grab her hand she pulls me in and dances with me in the falling snow. Warmth between us and cold surrounding us. She leans into my ear and says, “You know what would be perfect right now?” We kiss.
Dancing with Robin
By Kevin Lindsey
Idea: Searching for a perfect moment with the perfect girl.
Nothing is ever perfect -- ever.
The snow shifted from flurries to flakes as we walked out of the coffee shop.
White dots danced in the little breezes of passing cars, giving us cool kisses on our faces as they landed and turned back into water. Then I think I feel a warm breath on my cheek and her lips brush my cheek. I turn and she runs ahead laughing.
I chase. I grab her hand she pulls me in and dances with me in the falling snow. Warmth between us and cold surrounding us. She leans into my ear and says, “You know what would be perfect right now?” We kiss.
Friday, November 26, 2010
In the end
We lie awake, each lost in our own thoughts.
The gentle gray of a false dawn slowly bringing the room into focus.
Birds begin their morning affirmation that they made it through the night. Chi chi chi rrrawwkaka the songs of the morning ring out. And with every moment color bleeds into the world as the light grows brighter.
Dawn is here and I can see the brown in her hair. My fingers dance down her arm in a gentle brush and she rolls over to face me. Her full lips paler without lipstick, she mumbles "morning" and puts her head against my chest and closes her eyes. She knows she'll never sleep in this bed again. We can't keep going. There weren't enough moments like this. And that's my fault.
The cat walks into the room and demands to be let out with a quick sharp noise.
And in the end we became strangers again.
The gentle gray of a false dawn slowly bringing the room into focus.
Birds begin their morning affirmation that they made it through the night. Chi chi chi rrrawwkaka the songs of the morning ring out. And with every moment color bleeds into the world as the light grows brighter.
Dawn is here and I can see the brown in her hair. My fingers dance down her arm in a gentle brush and she rolls over to face me. Her full lips paler without lipstick, she mumbles "morning" and puts her head against my chest and closes her eyes. She knows she'll never sleep in this bed again. We can't keep going. There weren't enough moments like this. And that's my fault.
The cat walks into the room and demands to be let out with a quick sharp noise.
And in the end we became strangers again.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Holiday travel tips
It's the biggest holiday traveling time of the year -- Thanksgiving Day.
It's a hassle. There are tons of people and long waits, but what are you going to do? Well, here are a few tips to make the holiday travel time and that lovely dinner with relatives a little more relaxing and even profitable.
Pat downs -- This is the newest annoyance at the airport. Either you get a naked picture taken, or you have to go through an invasive pat down. How you you deal with this? Simple. Ask for the pat down and then pretend you like it WAY TOO MUCH. As soon as he or she gets down to the goods start loudly proclaiming "OH YEAH, THAT'S IT. GET IN THERE. SLAP IT. TOUCH IT. SWEET GOD THAT'S GOOD. I'VE HIDDEN A SAWBUCK SOMEWHERE, FIND IT BABY." Make them as uncomfortable as you.
Long waits -- It could be at the airport, the train station or just at the grocery store, but sooner or later you are going to be stuck somewhere for a while. Well, why not grab that opportunity and make some cab fare. Bring a collapsable stripper pole everywhere you go. When the wait time starts to pile up, set it up and start dancing. Then that sweet sweet cash will start coming your way. But you say, "I'm not pretty enough to bring in the Benjamins." Well, that's just stinking thinking. It only takes four quarters to make a dollar. Shake it enough and you'll get that cash.
Boring drives -- You know it's five hours to Aunt Euphengenia's house, and I know it's five hours to Aunt Euphegenia's house, but there's no way to change that. What we have to change is our attitude about the drive. Mess with other drivers. If you're a hot babe pull up to a dad wagon and take off that top. Wacky hijinks will ensue. Tell the kids you are fleeing the ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE. Their frightened, worried faces and tears of fear should be hours of fun. If all else fails -- Highway Car Derby.
Bad family food -- Oh joy, Memaw brought her cod and cream casserole again and she spiced it up with some Durkin's Fried Onions. Last time you tried that you spent a week on the loo. But you don't want to hurt Memaw's feelings. She went through the Great Depression and that was the best crap they had back then. Hide a funnel in your lap and cover it with your napkin. The funnel is attached to a tube that feeds into a large ziploc bag. Everytime you take a forkful of cod and cream dump it into the funnel and fill that bag with goodness. On your way home drop it off at the homeless shelter. Waste not, want not.
Those awful relatives -- We've all got the bad relatives. You know who I'm talking about. There's Aunty Alcky who has been drinking nonstop since 1964 and is still holding a grudge over something Memaw told her in 1932. And there's Uncle Pervy, who tries to make you sit on his lap so he can try to cop a feel while he's telling you the story of the Miracle of the Christmas Hooker. Well, let's put a stop to that, shall we. Forget the kids table, have a jerk table. Put all of the reasonable relatives at one table on one side of the house and all of the wastes of space on the other side. Give them canned ham and Buddig sliced turkey so they have something to complain about and then provide a couple boxes of fortified wine. Close the door and forget about them until it's time to mop up. Problem solved.
Have a Happy Thanksgiving
It's a hassle. There are tons of people and long waits, but what are you going to do? Well, here are a few tips to make the holiday travel time and that lovely dinner with relatives a little more relaxing and even profitable.
Pat downs -- This is the newest annoyance at the airport. Either you get a naked picture taken, or you have to go through an invasive pat down. How you you deal with this? Simple. Ask for the pat down and then pretend you like it WAY TOO MUCH. As soon as he or she gets down to the goods start loudly proclaiming "OH YEAH, THAT'S IT. GET IN THERE. SLAP IT. TOUCH IT. SWEET GOD THAT'S GOOD. I'VE HIDDEN A SAWBUCK SOMEWHERE, FIND IT BABY." Make them as uncomfortable as you.
Long waits -- It could be at the airport, the train station or just at the grocery store, but sooner or later you are going to be stuck somewhere for a while. Well, why not grab that opportunity and make some cab fare. Bring a collapsable stripper pole everywhere you go. When the wait time starts to pile up, set it up and start dancing. Then that sweet sweet cash will start coming your way. But you say, "I'm not pretty enough to bring in the Benjamins." Well, that's just stinking thinking. It only takes four quarters to make a dollar. Shake it enough and you'll get that cash.
Boring drives -- You know it's five hours to Aunt Euphengenia's house, and I know it's five hours to Aunt Euphegenia's house, but there's no way to change that. What we have to change is our attitude about the drive. Mess with other drivers. If you're a hot babe pull up to a dad wagon and take off that top. Wacky hijinks will ensue. Tell the kids you are fleeing the ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE. Their frightened, worried faces and tears of fear should be hours of fun. If all else fails -- Highway Car Derby.
Bad family food -- Oh joy, Memaw brought her cod and cream casserole again and she spiced it up with some Durkin's Fried Onions. Last time you tried that you spent a week on the loo. But you don't want to hurt Memaw's feelings. She went through the Great Depression and that was the best crap they had back then. Hide a funnel in your lap and cover it with your napkin. The funnel is attached to a tube that feeds into a large ziploc bag. Everytime you take a forkful of cod and cream dump it into the funnel and fill that bag with goodness. On your way home drop it off at the homeless shelter. Waste not, want not.
Those awful relatives -- We've all got the bad relatives. You know who I'm talking about. There's Aunty Alcky who has been drinking nonstop since 1964 and is still holding a grudge over something Memaw told her in 1932. And there's Uncle Pervy, who tries to make you sit on his lap so he can try to cop a feel while he's telling you the story of the Miracle of the Christmas Hooker. Well, let's put a stop to that, shall we. Forget the kids table, have a jerk table. Put all of the reasonable relatives at one table on one side of the house and all of the wastes of space on the other side. Give them canned ham and Buddig sliced turkey so they have something to complain about and then provide a couple boxes of fortified wine. Close the door and forget about them until it's time to mop up. Problem solved.
Have a Happy Thanksgiving
Friday, November 19, 2010
And So
And so and so and so
He writes unknowingly
An unconscious unthought thing
Automatic autoerotic
A four stroke engine
Sounds like a personal problem to me
And so it goes
Rounding the corner
Taking the curve
Like a lip to a hip
And so she knows
And so and so and so forth
I'd like to drink a fifth
Until unconcious unthinking me
He writes unknowingly
An unconscious unthought thing
Automatic autoerotic
A four stroke engine
Sounds like a personal problem to me
And so it goes
Rounding the corner
Taking the curve
Like a lip to a hip
And so she knows
And so and so and so forth
I'd like to drink a fifth
Until unconcious unthinking me
txt
.txt
Lol
How r u?
:) ;) :P (_*_)
It's been years
I brly knw u now
Just ltl txt blocks on my phone
Answr when u want or not at all
U rok
AhahahahaA
Even I luv u
But I hear ur voice
and it's almost a ghost
A relic of recognition
So I say
LOL
rok on
to the ltl txt block window on my phone
2:30 AM0 Comments(Add Comment)0 KudosTranslateEdit Remove More ▼Less ▲ Advertisement
Lol
How r u?
:) ;) :P (_*_)
It's been years
I brly knw u now
Just ltl txt blocks on my phone
Answr when u want or not at all
U rok
AhahahahaA
Even I luv u
But I hear ur voice
and it's almost a ghost
A relic of recognition
So I say
LOL
rok on
to the ltl txt block window on my phone
2:30 AM0 Comments(Add Comment)0 KudosTranslateEdit Remove More ▼Less ▲ Advertisement
8
8
A date
Turn it on its side
infinity
8
It's late
I'm awake
Always
8
It's Grrreeaaaattt!
Just for now
And forever
8
Is it fate
To be like this
Static
A date
Turn it on its side
infinity
8
It's late
I'm awake
Always
8
It's Grrreeaaaattt!
Just for now
And forever
8
Is it fate
To be like this
Static
Red Tomato Jam
The key is to make sure you are using a good lemon. It really makes a difference.
Red Tomato Jam
3 pounds (6 large) fully ripe tomatoes
1 lemon thinly sliced
1 box (2 1/2 ounces) powdered fruit pectin
4 cups sugar
1. Scald, peel and quarter tomatoes, removing stems and cores. Remove seeds and drain off juice, reserving only the pulp.
2. Bring to boil in a large kettle. Reduce heat and simmer uncovered for 8 to 10 minutes. Measure, there should be 3 cups.
3. Put tomatoes, lemon and pectin in a large kettle. Bring to a full boil, stiring constantly. Add sugar and boil rapidly for another 2 minutes.
4. Cool for 5 minutes, stiring occasionally.
5. Fill sterilized jars and seal. Process in boiling water bath for 10 minutes. Makes 2 pints.
Red Tomato Jam
3 pounds (6 large) fully ripe tomatoes
1 lemon thinly sliced
1 box (2 1/2 ounces) powdered fruit pectin
4 cups sugar
1. Scald, peel and quarter tomatoes, removing stems and cores. Remove seeds and drain off juice, reserving only the pulp.
2. Bring to boil in a large kettle. Reduce heat and simmer uncovered for 8 to 10 minutes. Measure, there should be 3 cups.
3. Put tomatoes, lemon and pectin in a large kettle. Bring to a full boil, stiring constantly. Add sugar and boil rapidly for another 2 minutes.
4. Cool for 5 minutes, stiring occasionally.
5. Fill sterilized jars and seal. Process in boiling water bath for 10 minutes. Makes 2 pints.
Mornings with you
I turn and your gone
The bed is still warm with you
In the kitchen I hear your spoon
As it hits the bottom of the cereal bowl
I know before you leave you'll look in
You don't say anything
but I hear the door open
I feel your eyes
I'm not asleep
But I don't want to delay you
With my meaningless jabber
You start now
I start later
Later, in the kitchen
on the table sits
a clean bowl
and cereal for me
The bed is still warm with you
In the kitchen I hear your spoon
As it hits the bottom of the cereal bowl
I know before you leave you'll look in
You don't say anything
but I hear the door open
I feel your eyes
I'm not asleep
But I don't want to delay you
With my meaningless jabber
You start now
I start later
Later, in the kitchen
on the table sits
a clean bowl
and cereal for me
The Case of the Levitating Dog
Belief and denial are a dog's best friend
It was warm last Tuesday. Not hot, just warm and the traffic was heavy on Highway 91 heading east into Corona. It's funny, I can feel the heat of the day change as I drive into work in Riverside. I drive the 91 almost every day from Long Beach and just after Highway 55 I can feel the heat start to encroach into the cabin of the Mustang.
It was 77 degrees when I left home at sea level and as I entered Corona it was about 85, at least that's what the dash temperature reading said. Normally I'm 43, overweight and none too attractive, but for some reason on Tuesday I was 10 years younger, 50 pounds lighter and handsome as all get out. Hey, it's my story, and I'm telling it how I want to -- so there.
ANYWAY, this handsome 33 year old god of a man (me) is headed eastbound on the 91 at around 12:30 p.m. when it happened.
As I near Serfas Club Drive, I see a Toyota van ahead of me swing wildly across three lanes of traffic. "What the hell is this guy's problem?" I think to myself and start scanning the freeway for problems. That's when I see it.
It was a big brown pitbull-type dog floating 3 feet above the freeway. No not 3 feet away, 3 feet above. He was levitating across the freeway lanes in hot pursuit of the Toyota van.
It was levitating in an odd fashion. It wasn't howling or flailing and it wasn't bloody or obviously injured in any way. The dog was on its side, as though it were lying on an invisible moving table. It's back was to me and it's legs pointed towards the van. It's sideways momentum sent it floating across the traffic lanes, missing cars by inches. I missed it by a good 20 feet, so no need to change my shorts. I saw it hit ground behind me and roll violently underneath a truck. That's the last I saw of the strange creature.
That's when reality set in, and I realized that the dog had been on the freeway and it had been hit, probably by the van. Nothing I could do but feel bad for the poor dog. However, I also realized that since I had never seen the dog being hit, it was only my own perception of reality that ascribed his flight to being hit by a car.
Maybe he wasn't hit by a car. Maybe he was the first of his kind; the first levitating dog.
Perhaps he was sitting in his backyard that morning wishing that he was somewhere else. He was out of water, his food was stale and no one had picked up last night's poop.
Toots, for that is his name, was sitting there on the ankle-high grass thinking to himself.
Dogs are big thinkers. They worked out Einstein's theory of relativity when man was still trying to figure out how to make fire from a couple sticks. They didn't say anything because they couldn't. They're dogs. They go woof woof. Not a lot of deep conversations start with woof woof and a wagging tail.
ANYWAY, Toots was sitting in his backyard thinking about just how bored he was. All he wanted was a little fun now and then, clean water, food and someone to pick up his poop. Really not that much to ask of from his human. But he believed that he would get all of these things eventually.
Dogs are also big believers. They have to be. How else would you explain all of the times people have beaten their dogs only to have the dogs come back for more. They believe people are worth the trouble. Why? I don't know. I'm not a dog. That's belief for you.
So, Toots is sitting in his backyard having a think and when he'd thunk enough he decides he's too good for gravity. He believes that gravity is the weakest force in the universe and he decides to believe that he's stronger than it. By the way, Toots hated his name. His owner named him Toots because of his unfortunate Irritable Bowel Syndrome. How would you like being named for your inability to stop passing gas? It's humiliating.
As Toots thought about how much he hated his name and how he was so much better than gravity, it happened. He started to hover. At first it was just a couple inches above the grass, then as he believed harder that he was better than gravity it was several feet.
"OK, so I'm better than gravity and I can float," Toots thought, because he couldn't speak. We already went over that, keep up. "It's cool and all but that doesn't really help me, now does it?"
So Toots started thinking again and he decided that if being better than gravity made him float, then being better than the fence at his back would make him float towards the house.
Toots crinkled his brow and started believing that he was better than the back fence and he floated towards the house. When he reached the house he could hear the TV coming from the second floor. He believed himself up to the second floor and looked in. His owner was watching the steady gorgeous color of her 42 plasma television. Too bad Toots was color blind.
On the television was a dog's dream. Glenn Beck was talking about how everyone in the Democratic Party was a bunch of godless heathens who hated America and only he and his tea baggers understood the joy of God and the American Way.
Well, that's all Toots needed to hear. That was just the kind of denial of reality he was looking to believe in. Toots tucked that away, and he knew that with a combination of denial and belief he was ready to really fly.
Off he shot into the sultry summer sky like a pitbull Krypto, sans cape.
He flew across the neighborhood, stopping only long enough to pee on every tree top. No dog would ever own these trees like Toots owned these trees. He saw the neighbor's cat on the fence, but decided to leave it alone.
You see dog's love and hate cats. They love the freedom cats exude and hate them because it's something they'll never have. Except Toots. Toots was now free. No more leashes or heal commands for him. He was flying. Now Toots could join the cats in being free.
Toots chased a flock of those damn pigeons. For their part, the pigeons were so amazed at seeing a dog chase after them in the sky that they forgot to flap their wings and plummeted to the ground, breaking several car windows.
The freedom of belief and denial was exhilarating to Toots. This was the best he had ever felt. If he wanted to go east he believed west wasn't good enough, if he wanted to go down he denied that the sky was so great.
Toots decided that his perception of right and wrong could be strong enough to change the world. He would remake the world in the image of dogs.
That was when Toots made his mistake. He looked to his right and saw in the distance the ribbon of autos traveling east and west on the 91. Toots decided he had one more mission before changing the world forever. He needed to chase and catch those damn cars.
Toots lined himself up with the freeway and began making his diving run at the freeway. He would finally catch himself a car. He picked out a big one, a van and believed it was what he wanted with all of his might. However, he forgot to deny the laws of mass and speed and when he realized his mistake it was already too late.
That was the end of Toots, the world's first levitating dog.
Is this true, no, but if I believe Stephen Hawking's assertion that there are many universes, a multiverse if you will, then maybe it is, somewhere.
It was warm last Tuesday. Not hot, just warm and the traffic was heavy on Highway 91 heading east into Corona. It's funny, I can feel the heat of the day change as I drive into work in Riverside. I drive the 91 almost every day from Long Beach and just after Highway 55 I can feel the heat start to encroach into the cabin of the Mustang.
It was 77 degrees when I left home at sea level and as I entered Corona it was about 85, at least that's what the dash temperature reading said. Normally I'm 43, overweight and none too attractive, but for some reason on Tuesday I was 10 years younger, 50 pounds lighter and handsome as all get out. Hey, it's my story, and I'm telling it how I want to -- so there.
ANYWAY, this handsome 33 year old god of a man (me) is headed eastbound on the 91 at around 12:30 p.m. when it happened.
As I near Serfas Club Drive, I see a Toyota van ahead of me swing wildly across three lanes of traffic. "What the hell is this guy's problem?" I think to myself and start scanning the freeway for problems. That's when I see it.
It was a big brown pitbull-type dog floating 3 feet above the freeway. No not 3 feet away, 3 feet above. He was levitating across the freeway lanes in hot pursuit of the Toyota van.
It was levitating in an odd fashion. It wasn't howling or flailing and it wasn't bloody or obviously injured in any way. The dog was on its side, as though it were lying on an invisible moving table. It's back was to me and it's legs pointed towards the van. It's sideways momentum sent it floating across the traffic lanes, missing cars by inches. I missed it by a good 20 feet, so no need to change my shorts. I saw it hit ground behind me and roll violently underneath a truck. That's the last I saw of the strange creature.
That's when reality set in, and I realized that the dog had been on the freeway and it had been hit, probably by the van. Nothing I could do but feel bad for the poor dog. However, I also realized that since I had never seen the dog being hit, it was only my own perception of reality that ascribed his flight to being hit by a car.
Maybe he wasn't hit by a car. Maybe he was the first of his kind; the first levitating dog.
Perhaps he was sitting in his backyard that morning wishing that he was somewhere else. He was out of water, his food was stale and no one had picked up last night's poop.
Toots, for that is his name, was sitting there on the ankle-high grass thinking to himself.
Dogs are big thinkers. They worked out Einstein's theory of relativity when man was still trying to figure out how to make fire from a couple sticks. They didn't say anything because they couldn't. They're dogs. They go woof woof. Not a lot of deep conversations start with woof woof and a wagging tail.
ANYWAY, Toots was sitting in his backyard thinking about just how bored he was. All he wanted was a little fun now and then, clean water, food and someone to pick up his poop. Really not that much to ask of from his human. But he believed that he would get all of these things eventually.
Dogs are also big believers. They have to be. How else would you explain all of the times people have beaten their dogs only to have the dogs come back for more. They believe people are worth the trouble. Why? I don't know. I'm not a dog. That's belief for you.
So, Toots is sitting in his backyard having a think and when he'd thunk enough he decides he's too good for gravity. He believes that gravity is the weakest force in the universe and he decides to believe that he's stronger than it. By the way, Toots hated his name. His owner named him Toots because of his unfortunate Irritable Bowel Syndrome. How would you like being named for your inability to stop passing gas? It's humiliating.
As Toots thought about how much he hated his name and how he was so much better than gravity, it happened. He started to hover. At first it was just a couple inches above the grass, then as he believed harder that he was better than gravity it was several feet.
"OK, so I'm better than gravity and I can float," Toots thought, because he couldn't speak. We already went over that, keep up. "It's cool and all but that doesn't really help me, now does it?"
So Toots started thinking again and he decided that if being better than gravity made him float, then being better than the fence at his back would make him float towards the house.
Toots crinkled his brow and started believing that he was better than the back fence and he floated towards the house. When he reached the house he could hear the TV coming from the second floor. He believed himself up to the second floor and looked in. His owner was watching the steady gorgeous color of her 42 plasma television. Too bad Toots was color blind.
On the television was a dog's dream. Glenn Beck was talking about how everyone in the Democratic Party was a bunch of godless heathens who hated America and only he and his tea baggers understood the joy of God and the American Way.
Well, that's all Toots needed to hear. That was just the kind of denial of reality he was looking to believe in. Toots tucked that away, and he knew that with a combination of denial and belief he was ready to really fly.
Off he shot into the sultry summer sky like a pitbull Krypto, sans cape.
He flew across the neighborhood, stopping only long enough to pee on every tree top. No dog would ever own these trees like Toots owned these trees. He saw the neighbor's cat on the fence, but decided to leave it alone.
You see dog's love and hate cats. They love the freedom cats exude and hate them because it's something they'll never have. Except Toots. Toots was now free. No more leashes or heal commands for him. He was flying. Now Toots could join the cats in being free.
Toots chased a flock of those damn pigeons. For their part, the pigeons were so amazed at seeing a dog chase after them in the sky that they forgot to flap their wings and plummeted to the ground, breaking several car windows.
The freedom of belief and denial was exhilarating to Toots. This was the best he had ever felt. If he wanted to go east he believed west wasn't good enough, if he wanted to go down he denied that the sky was so great.
Toots decided that his perception of right and wrong could be strong enough to change the world. He would remake the world in the image of dogs.
That was when Toots made his mistake. He looked to his right and saw in the distance the ribbon of autos traveling east and west on the 91. Toots decided he had one more mission before changing the world forever. He needed to chase and catch those damn cars.
Toots lined himself up with the freeway and began making his diving run at the freeway. He would finally catch himself a car. He picked out a big one, a van and believed it was what he wanted with all of his might. However, he forgot to deny the laws of mass and speed and when he realized his mistake it was already too late.
That was the end of Toots, the world's first levitating dog.
Is this true, no, but if I believe Stephen Hawking's assertion that there are many universes, a multiverse if you will, then maybe it is, somewhere.
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