No Commitment Cynical Reading Entertainment: This little cartoon from Chickweed Lane reminds m...

No Commitment Cynical Reading Entertainment: This little cartoon from Chickweed Lane reminds m...: This little cartoon from Chickweed Lane reminds me of Lewis.  World, I shake my fist at the person that took my pirate cat, my feline Vali...

This little cartoon from Chickweed Lane reminds me of Lewis.  World, I shake my fist at the person that took my pirate cat, my feline Valium, my reminder that maturity is a choice.  My daughter also would add she liked being number two on the list of 'What's My Crime?'  Lewis was special not because of how he looked, which was remarkable, but for his personality, which was so unpredictable.  I once caught him carrying a prescription bottle of Valium down my hallway; he was running because I heard him rattling the pills.  Only my cat.

Something Close to Nothing, just ask Prince, he can fill in the gaps

Upon second thought, there is a place no one should leave through the in door.  It is geographically located on Highway 68, and is the Highway Entrance to Taco Bell/Pizza Hut right before I-40.  Oh sure, absolutely ENTER to purchase junk food, but NEVER leave thinking to avoid a light.  If you need proof, please go try it.  Then use my number system to cuss me out.  Option three is the best:  call my parental units for customer service and have fun with that.

Alright, today started out really shitty, then the miracle of Dr. Mu, goddess of the needles set to work and right now, I want to do that cool NFL dance and slam some pig skin down on a manicured football field.  After the initial feeling of utter drainage wears off, my body simply rejoices!  I cannot tell a person enough that answers to most any ill or negativity really can be managed and sometimes cured with your own mind and body.  I have realized I simply need the correct person to set me on that path to seeing that Hey, the forest is just fine, but you know, why don't you just be the Tree?  That translates into:  focus on inside yourself and the answers can be located in the positive aspects of just being a tree.  Forest be damned. 

I can picture my voodoo doctor right now telling me that this feeling is mania.  Thank Dr. K, I really am so grateful to know happiness is actually mania.  I bet there's pill for that, didn't one of your assistants say so?  Oh, I know, that's just plain cynical, because in fact, yesterday I did see Dr. K, Voodoo lady, and it turns out we had a really good session because I decided to start taking more control by expressing myself.  Behold the light of language, for once in a very long time, I believe she earned the ridiculous amount she costs.  Trying to get me to see her partner lost some brownie points because the bondage of Hipaa wouldn't apply here, since my files are conveniently in the same office, and on principle, I'm against that.  Plus, my inner me does not want my psychologist sharing rental space with my voodoo lady.  I might come up over the watering hole, and somehow Hipaa again would be forgotten and I'd never know.  That feels like a wedgie of the worst kind... one everyone but me would see.. oh but I would feel and not have any way to dislodge that from my ass.  What a horrible mental picture.  Let me get back to Dr. K on a better note.. I might start calling her a Doctor if she keeps this positive going.  However, I'm hoping that acupuncture will dispel my needs for her services at some point.  I am not hugging trees or wearing those detestable shoes, but I prefer a holistic approach to the temple of my body and mind.  I don't know if this has evolved from age or I fell and cracked my head, but experience with the world of doctors leads me to believe the truth is out there.  Truth in common language that can be afforded by all, and Obama didn't subsidize any part of it.  This is my utopia, OK people, so I may be all sides of the fence, but please don't lecture me on politics because of a small joke.

Seventeen minutes ago was a good day.  Today is beginning to look good too.  I hope everyone I care about has a great day too, because I love them.

The Point: One Sucks Major Noogies

I just realized how many journals I really have saved and how much sifting I am going to have to do to really get anything of use to distill itself into something that has some sort of point.  Oh how realizing the point is actually finding one sucks major noogies.

Twiddling has Consequences

I ddecided to play with my blog the other day and you know, I really should have left that alone.  I now definitely have a copy of my crap saved to never repeat such an incident.

And I really hope that copyright thing at the bottom means something.

I like blogging and need a place that is mine.  I guess I should consider getting my own page at some point. But I definitely would have lots of movies and books and other people to quote for one liners that just float my boat...

I'm striving towards something I actually wish I could identify.  It will come to me.

Epiphany #5,820,986,856

Unless you're peddling something, trying to be criminal, obviously are committing some heinous crime against nature or have some other leverage... everybody really could care less about you and your life.  Don't take it personally, they are horrified of the unthinkable:  I might need them to do something and somehow the request gains them no leverage at all upon my life and does not elevate the ego.  How horrendous they sputter, preparing a comparable lie to broadcast my inconvenience. Guilt comes as a bonus. 

What a terrible disease of the conscience to suffer from.  It's too bad people realize after wasting precious time focusing solely upon the advance of a person they don't even know:  themselves. No guilt bonus there. All in effort to avoid any real friendship.

Serious XM Vent

I believe nothing vents frustration better than being able to write SiriusXM and explain with all the proper gutter mouth I could muster at midnight that Howard Stern should not be training their employees.  (And he's sort of outdated and overpaid ... because Howard Stern seems to be kind of a lapdog these days compared to a lot of other comedians or radio personalities.)

I usually blush at saying so many curses, much less writing them, but I told them I was just doing them the same favor by trying to force me to listen and PAY for something useless.

I took on Dell and won, XM, meet your match.

DING, DING.  Baby's on the decks. (music reference)

I opened my mail at midnight thinking it was junk, and it was a collection notice from SiriusXM on the car I had wrecked and completely replaced.  I blew a gasket because when I was changing all the information the lady I talked to was horrible to me and abrasive and I CALLED THEM to purchase satellite radio.  Not good sales strategy.  Then, months later, lets not send any mail except the new car and treat me like a criminal.  They draft that monthly.  Thank goodness I keep receipts... but ooh I was MAD.  Aging occurs on hold.  Keep me on hold for a long time and be mean, it gets personal.

Luckily they fixed everything because I caught it in time.

Seriously.

And I'm not the radio station.

It gets a little crazy sometimes because of all the different obstacles I find in my path, myself and my mouth being the larger potholes.  However, the reason I live and breathe every day happens to be for those little things that I seem to abound in.  I took a chance, a can of air, some tape and a prayer and opened my Altar to the Gods.  My Dad's old Zenith Solid State circa 1965 silently opened and I took a deep breath to admire the stereo that was the only thing I ever wanted (and by some act of GOD, own) and then I withered inside as I turned the selector over to FM and the tuner lit up .... I miss my Daddy!...Then how can I stay sad when Aerosmith came through the speakers with pointers on how to "Walk this way"... and what station was it on?  Santa Claus' favorite station... Rock 92.

Then I turned on the floodlights, pulled out my extra copy of Fleetwood Mac, held my mouth right, taped the needle to the stylus and sang along wondering when Sarah was going to call me home.  I wish I could have shared the magic with them, but its OK.  I really needed something miraculous and well, those speakers make my Pioneers sound like whimps.

I love you Daddy.
I always will.

And Nattie's Camaro was tuned to Rock 92, just like every other FM tuner to pass under your hands.

Girl Power now embodies seeing who helped make me whole and wonderful and beautiful.  He did.

What do I do

You know, I am offended by people that seem to belittle my job. I work at home. What DON'T I do? Obviously I must be some Peg Bundy wannabe shoes and all. I've been watching the uTube, so I think I even have that beehive hairdo down.

Fuck off narrow minded people.

Some people believe sexual orientation is a precursor to intelligence. Monogamous being scum of the world and detestable.

I need to bathe.

I need a hairball treatment

I feel like dry heaving until the hairball lodged in my personality comes hurtling out of me. It will be one satisfying squishing noise when it finally plops itself violently outside of my body.

This hairball will be made up of daydreams, fruitless ventures of goodwill and Disney philosophy about life.. all angrily twisted together with the juices malice and reality squeeze from a pulverized soul.

Trust me, it will be one of the ones to brag over.

My Really Smart Phone

Ijust now can journal because the phone figured it out. IT has been outsourced by Android. Omg I am not batting 100 at this hour. Few figuring out the meaning off the world like me network enough. Like I dothat. I'm not that social organism.

Minor Overdose of Fictional Reality(!)

I want a gold star, I know somebody carries them around.  Well, having your husband make a note of something, have 36 gallons of bubbling saltwater tank still test world peace AND answer one ad because it was there... (drum roll) and the Bonus being they have a reply!

I must be hocked up on goofballs.  Weeeee!

I feel personality combustion in the presence of agile people with language skills AND personality. Verbal joyrides rock!

(plus if they are over age 6, maybe I won't have to: Guess what!?)

Happiness is multi-syllable reciprocity.

Trickle Down Ferengi

Seeing is not believing.

Hearing is not seeing.

Believing is obviously not in the scope of things.

Money, sex or dredging... open for exploitation.