Maybe there's a deity; maybe there isn't; maybe there are eighteen; maybe there's just a blue ball of fluff. MAYBE....there's a group of mortals who merely THINK they're deities. I wouldn't count on anything. If I want results, my best bet is to do something myself.
And it ain't no use talkin' about heaven or hell; the only existence of which we can be REASONABLY certain is this one right here. May as well make the most of it. Maybe even enjoy it a little bit.
Showing posts with label Facebook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Facebook. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
Thursday, December 12, 2013
"Thanksgivember"
Seems I haven't blogged in a little while. So as not to give the impression that I'm dead, here is what I was doing on Facebook in November, with edits kept to a minimum.
Oh, and do read that article I mention in the twenty-eighth entry. Many things I wanted to say on here but couldn't figure out how to express.
****
In past years, my cousin, among others, has done this "Thirty Days of Thanksgiving" thing wherein each day in November, the participant comes up with one thing for which they're thankful. Given the way I've been feeling of late, I'm going to at least make an attempt at this, just as my own exercise in knowing what's good. See how I fare. Starting with....
....well, how 'bout my aforementioned cousin, who did this the past two years and managed to keep most every entry engaging. Always one of my favorite people — an honestly loving fan of peace, cats, and all things good. Sense of humor, too. Hope to soon be in your metro, cous'. (I keep these statuses "public"; I can tag you if you like.)
Today on Thanksgiving Theatre:
The 1971 Alvarez acoustic six-string that is nestled inside my gig bag just behind me to my right. I feel so naked and incomplete when it's not with me. (I'm still incomplete, but I'm much better.) Sometimes I even get to play it, and I think I do pretty well, considering my wholly unorthodox style.
This fine extended Sunday in the land of Thanks: An extra hour of sleep. Pity it only happens once a year. This orb spins far too fast for my taste.
I will also cast a vote for bagels and lox.
Forth comes the fourth:
One of the few upsides of being forever unemployed is that I'm generally not bound to routinely rising at obscene hours of the morning. I honestly have no idea how I ever made it through middle and high school. College, though better with scheduling, remains an enigma in my head, despite seven and a half years of imprisonment there. My natural circadian rhythm seems to be that of a different planet, drifting through all bits of the Earth day through the days. I rather do prefer to stay true to (my) nature.
Harmonic Fifth:
In some years, and perhaps in some places, this would be Election Day here in the States. Traditionally, I've kept my politics on the blog and off of here, but I want today to acknowledge "the good guys" — the ones who believe in, and work toward, equality, opportunity, basic health and dignity, and peace, for everybody. (Here's a hint: Many of the "good guys" are not guys.) I do believe, conceivably naïvely, that we're going to see more of them in power fairly soon — maybe even enough of them to make a difference.
Sixth and stones may break for a few minutes:
The fact that I am done with college and academia. I speak from eight years and five or so varied majors of imprisonment there: It is a cold, lonely, isolating experience that is absolutely not worth twenty thousand a semester (unless you're really really really into being cold, lonely and isolated). Now I'm still cold, lonely and isolated, but at least I'm not rushing into deadlines for a price that a corporation would be lucky to afford (because corporations are totally people who go to college and everything). Something went terribly, terribly wrong with our education system somewhere along the line.
Unseventhed bread:
As sort of a follow-up to yesterday's entry in the "thankful" series (the relevance will become apparent), I remember my aunt Cookie. For the bulk of her story, you can check my archived blog entry. About half a year after I posted that entry, she was finally, mercifully, relieved from her earthly condition and memorialized in typically cold Chicagoland winter sunshine. She had no children, thus leaving my cousin and me as beneficiaries. Though my memory of her actual personality fades — she was sweet, I can say that much — my inheritance from her just about exactly satisfied my student loans, therefore relieving me of all but health insurance payments to haunt me all my days.
So, Cookie, many thanks for memories of happy times (I don't much mention them on the blog, but we had good holidays together in the old days) and for a significantly less dark time now. I hope you are enjoying peace and happiness in the next world, whatever it may be.
Livin' on th'eighth:
As long as I'm on aunts, I gotta shout out to my "main" one — my one remaining immediate aunt, who has stayed close with me and mine, lending graces, support, advice, and all things good through the years. Excellent host, award-winning care professional, mother of my cousin, and all-around solid-minded person. Also, she's on here (in tastefully limited doses). Hi Auntie dearest! Σ:+)
Number nine.... (repeat a few times)
("Ninth" is a really awkward word. Nothing appears to rhyme with it. I cannot think of anything clever to do with it.)
The fact that my family finally has something in the works to get the %$@& out of these flatlands. No offense to my friends who live here, but this town has nothing to offer me — no jobs, no truly close friendships, never mind romance — nothing. Yay for change! And yay once again for my cousin, who essentially led the way to the new metro! In fact, most immediate family is at our destination this weekend. Hi family! Snuggle the cats for me!
For all in tenths and purposes:
We are living in an age where technology has made it such that quick, clean transit to different pieces of geography is very much possible and nearly always at hand.
This is, of course, a doubly-edged sword that requires a sure, steady hand.......
The eleventh in the room:
Given what my feed on here looks like right now, this must be Veterans' Day. Now, I've honestly never quite figured out how I feel about soldiers past or present. I'm sure historically a great many fought for things they actually believed in and were genuinely convinced that they, their nation-state, and their actions were right. I'm sure they generally don't deserve to be stripped of domestic dignities, as seems to be a thing in the political world here. And I realize, from the back of my mind, tales of my grandfathers fighting in the second "world war", an event that is probably more talked about and referenced in culture and contemporary life than any other.
So in an effort to keep my offense to a minimum, I will respectfully acknowledge everybody who played a role in shaping the world into something we can recognize today (It's not easy). I wish you peace, love, happiness, and perhaps even some *tangible* survival benefits.
See for your twelfth:
This is my parents' wedding anniversary. We celebrated with a nice meal out this past evening — stuffed mushrooms, calamari, salad, shared entrees including creamy rigatoni and chicken piccata, crème brulee — majestic stuff. We celebrated the evening *before* the actual day, because later today, my mother must leave me, father, and the dogs alone for a while to look after *her* mother, who lives on rather a different continent. So the time seems just appropriate to dedicate an entry in my "thankful" series to the folks — especially..........Mom.
Mom is undoubtedly the brains of our little three-piece vehicle in the cornfields. She has our finest financial sensibility; she seems to instinctively know all the little things in domestic life that simply don't come naturally to father or me; she showed the lion's share of interest in and attention to me as I developed; she "sure can cook!"; and, as we and time have evolved, she greatly splits with me the task of looking after father (while she still looks after me to an extent).
We don't always see eye to eye on things. She still scoffs at the "Cheshire Adams" moniker; I suspect she always will. Our world views and basic philosophies are forever at odds with each other. Our mutual tastes are next to nil beyond the realm of food. But at the heart of the matter, she's kept me sheltered, fed, clothed, and comfortable. And those are pretty damn advantageous qualities.
So here's to Mom, a 'Book dweller among my friends here. I bid you a safe and pleasant journey across the globe, as well as health to Grandma and everybody. I'll be waiting for you over here......alone.....with father......and the dogs......and.......
OH GODS PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME
Lucky thirteenth: Mother is at grandma's place intact. Yay!
Fourteenth or againtht them?:
A bot cannot replace me.
Σ;+)
(Editor's note: At the time of the fourteenth entry, the 'Book feed was flooded with people playing with an app called "What Would I Say?" that read the users' statuses and produced mostly nonsensical word strings based thereon, signed "-[user]bot".)
Out of my brain on this fine fifteenth:
A day shall come when I will never again have to do suburban yard work.
Sweet sixteenth:
Hugs.
Most any time I can get 'em, I'll give 'em. This culture is nearly devoid of friendly physical touch — much to its detriment, I firmly believe. We're hardly close with anybody anymore. Physical proximity just may promote mental/spiritual proximity. And if nothing else, it's something I can give in the absence of items or funds.
(Conceivably related note: family Thanksgiving tomorrow! Yay!)
Edge of seventeenth: These all-too-elusive *joyous* family gatherings.
(posted a considerable number of hours before the event, so that I may be enjoying the actual event rather than checking into cyberspace all throughout it. Ya dig?)
What I eighteenth:
Cranberry sauce, pickles, dark meat, shrimp, pasta, cake, pie, chocolate, and all other edible delights.
Thanks also to the family and friends that allowed me to partake in festivities this past day!
Nineteenth new-Facebook-down:
Music.
I can't imagine too many of you who are friends with me requiring an explanation of this, so suffice it to say that life would suffer greatly without it.
Where you twentieth (h/t EJ):
A follow-up to yesterday's entry: The fact that, so far, I have been able to freely engage in discovery and sharing of musics without legal consequence. Supposedly, some countries have essentially banned music altogether. So far, this country has managed to fight the suits to an extent. Keep it up.
Also, that there have been people with whom to share and discuss music in cyberspace. My tastes tend to not grant me many friends in physical proximity.
Here, for instance, is the song I reference in the heading, a light psych affair from Norway. Enjoy while you can; there's a message on the top of the page that reads "Hi, United States JUZP is upgrading. music will be filtered. sorry for rare interruption". (But I do assure you, Kaspersky doesn't mind the common site among Google Video search results.)
Twenty-first (Ambrosia):
One more in the music section: Not only that I can indulge in the music of others, but that I have also been able to craft a certain amount of original material. This, to me, definitively states that I am a unique being — passion incarnate — rather than a clone who accepts whatever trash the powers that be have decided is popular and right. Whose was that quote about having created something? It's made the rounds on here often enough. It's something like that. Create! Firmly establish yourself as alive in this world!
Also, natch, the contemporary technology that allows me (and many) to upload my recordings to a place where they can be heard anywhere there is internet. Given the heading, I cannot resist linking to my relevant song here once again......
Twenty-second to none:
This.
The only dog I ever cared for.
Twenty-third in the punchbowl:
I sense this series has worn thin. Either I'm running on a premise that was stale two years ago, or I've bared maybe just a little too much of my inner mind. So for your Saturday, I nominate feedback and honest discussion, wherever and whenever it may be offered. Too often we, as a species, ditch the truth in favor of "politeness" or some such thing. Truth is, there is absolutely nothing polite about silence as a response to a thought. Anyone who responds with silence may as well not exist. And lying through your teeth (or keys, or touchpad) is just bad for everyone. Speak your mind. Don't hold back. You look fat, and that's perfectly fine.
Packs of twenty-fourth:
Warmth.
Physical or personable, I thrive on 'em all. These flatlands are a bit short of the physical on this late November day; luckily, our house has nicely functioning heating. And I suspect you all know by now what I think of this country's overall personality these days.....
Twenty-fifth to serve:
Laughter. Science-proven natural medicine. However downward we may spiral, we must always remember (how) to laugh. Beware the ones who lack a sense of humor; they are a certain ticket to misery.
Here is a YouTube channel that features just about the entirety of the UK Whose Line is it Anyway (and related shows), a show that picks up after the first two or three seasons and is much less rigidly censored than the US version.
By the way, what makes you laugh? Comment away!
Twenty-sixth and tired:
I don't feel the pressure of deadlines and strict following of artificial rules, and so on days like this when my brain is a blank, I can post something quick and stupid like this. Or nothing.
:+)~
Twenty-seventh heaven:
Cats.
'Nuff said.
Twenty-eighth — Chanukiving, or Thanksgivukah, or "I'm not prepared for this!":
Just before I posted the link to this article yesterday, I tweeted the author, "To put it simply: Thank you for that piece." He courteously responded: "You're very welcome. Thanks for the thanks." And that just seems about right. So, for your once-in-seven-eons celebration today, I nominate for ...."Chanoveming"? (Thanksgivember + Chanukiving.... I dunno. Ain't portmanteaus fun?)......
Gratitude. It's easy to lose or forget in contemporary society, where everything is relentlessly slung at you in mass quantities. How do we react when we're stuck in traffic in our cars with climate-control and high-definition audio systems in a spot beyond cell phone signal reception? Or when a long-time bug-and-incompetence-plagued cyber-hangout that we frequented nonetheless is shutting down? How do we treat the conceivably imperfect families that took us in and accept(ed) us?
Some food for thought to accompany the food for the twice-over holiday.
Happy travels (I'm about to see to my own),
~C.A.~
Tie-dyed (not black) twenty-ninth:
A certain wit and wordsmithery. It's gotten me bugger-all in life beyond cyberspace so far, but it is such good free, noncommercial fun, ain't it?
Down and thirtieth:
Finally, in a moment of blatant pandering, I would like to acknowledge all of *you* for keeping me entertained and relatively sane in these trying times that don't have to try very hard, and for at least putting up with this Thanksgivember nonsense and some of my politics revealed herein. I don't have many places I can go, so it's nice to have a friendly virtual place.
I know you're sorry to see this series end, so I'll ask you: What would you like to see from me in your cybertravels? Little observations? Youtube Facebook DJing? Words and links of sociopolitical conscience? Or maybe just bad puns and cat pictures? Clue me in if you have a preference.
Decent December, descendants! (h/t Wim)
Oh, and do read that article I mention in the twenty-eighth entry. Many things I wanted to say on here but couldn't figure out how to express.
****
In past years, my cousin, among others, has done this "Thirty Days of Thanksgiving" thing wherein each day in November, the participant comes up with one thing for which they're thankful. Given the way I've been feeling of late, I'm going to at least make an attempt at this, just as my own exercise in knowing what's good. See how I fare. Starting with....
....well, how 'bout my aforementioned cousin, who did this the past two years and managed to keep most every entry engaging. Always one of my favorite people — an honestly loving fan of peace, cats, and all things good. Sense of humor, too. Hope to soon be in your metro, cous'. (I keep these statuses "public"; I can tag you if you like.)
Today on Thanksgiving Theatre:
The 1971 Alvarez acoustic six-string that is nestled inside my gig bag just behind me to my right. I feel so naked and incomplete when it's not with me. (I'm still incomplete, but I'm much better.) Sometimes I even get to play it, and I think I do pretty well, considering my wholly unorthodox style.
This fine extended Sunday in the land of Thanks: An extra hour of sleep. Pity it only happens once a year. This orb spins far too fast for my taste.
I will also cast a vote for bagels and lox.
Forth comes the fourth:
One of the few upsides of being forever unemployed is that I'm generally not bound to routinely rising at obscene hours of the morning. I honestly have no idea how I ever made it through middle and high school. College, though better with scheduling, remains an enigma in my head, despite seven and a half years of imprisonment there. My natural circadian rhythm seems to be that of a different planet, drifting through all bits of the Earth day through the days. I rather do prefer to stay true to (my) nature.
Harmonic Fifth:
In some years, and perhaps in some places, this would be Election Day here in the States. Traditionally, I've kept my politics on the blog and off of here, but I want today to acknowledge "the good guys" — the ones who believe in, and work toward, equality, opportunity, basic health and dignity, and peace, for everybody. (Here's a hint: Many of the "good guys" are not guys.) I do believe, conceivably naïvely, that we're going to see more of them in power fairly soon — maybe even enough of them to make a difference.
Sixth and stones may break for a few minutes:
The fact that I am done with college and academia. I speak from eight years and five or so varied majors of imprisonment there: It is a cold, lonely, isolating experience that is absolutely not worth twenty thousand a semester (unless you're really really really into being cold, lonely and isolated). Now I'm still cold, lonely and isolated, but at least I'm not rushing into deadlines for a price that a corporation would be lucky to afford (because corporations are totally people who go to college and everything). Something went terribly, terribly wrong with our education system somewhere along the line.
Unseventhed bread:
As sort of a follow-up to yesterday's entry in the "thankful" series (the relevance will become apparent), I remember my aunt Cookie. For the bulk of her story, you can check my archived blog entry. About half a year after I posted that entry, she was finally, mercifully, relieved from her earthly condition and memorialized in typically cold Chicagoland winter sunshine. She had no children, thus leaving my cousin and me as beneficiaries. Though my memory of her actual personality fades — she was sweet, I can say that much — my inheritance from her just about exactly satisfied my student loans, therefore relieving me of all but health insurance payments to haunt me all my days.
So, Cookie, many thanks for memories of happy times (I don't much mention them on the blog, but we had good holidays together in the old days) and for a significantly less dark time now. I hope you are enjoying peace and happiness in the next world, whatever it may be.
Livin' on th'eighth:
As long as I'm on aunts, I gotta shout out to my "main" one — my one remaining immediate aunt, who has stayed close with me and mine, lending graces, support, advice, and all things good through the years. Excellent host, award-winning care professional, mother of my cousin, and all-around solid-minded person. Also, she's on here (in tastefully limited doses). Hi Auntie dearest! Σ:+)
Number nine.... (repeat a few times)
("Ninth" is a really awkward word. Nothing appears to rhyme with it. I cannot think of anything clever to do with it.)
The fact that my family finally has something in the works to get the %$@& out of these flatlands. No offense to my friends who live here, but this town has nothing to offer me — no jobs, no truly close friendships, never mind romance — nothing. Yay for change! And yay once again for my cousin, who essentially led the way to the new metro! In fact, most immediate family is at our destination this weekend. Hi family! Snuggle the cats for me!
For all in tenths and purposes:
We are living in an age where technology has made it such that quick, clean transit to different pieces of geography is very much possible and nearly always at hand.
This is, of course, a doubly-edged sword that requires a sure, steady hand.......
The eleventh in the room:
Given what my feed on here looks like right now, this must be Veterans' Day. Now, I've honestly never quite figured out how I feel about soldiers past or present. I'm sure historically a great many fought for things they actually believed in and were genuinely convinced that they, their nation-state, and their actions were right. I'm sure they generally don't deserve to be stripped of domestic dignities, as seems to be a thing in the political world here. And I realize, from the back of my mind, tales of my grandfathers fighting in the second "world war", an event that is probably more talked about and referenced in culture and contemporary life than any other.
So in an effort to keep my offense to a minimum, I will respectfully acknowledge everybody who played a role in shaping the world into something we can recognize today (It's not easy). I wish you peace, love, happiness, and perhaps even some *tangible* survival benefits.
See for your twelfth:
This is my parents' wedding anniversary. We celebrated with a nice meal out this past evening — stuffed mushrooms, calamari, salad, shared entrees including creamy rigatoni and chicken piccata, crème brulee — majestic stuff. We celebrated the evening *before* the actual day, because later today, my mother must leave me, father, and the dogs alone for a while to look after *her* mother, who lives on rather a different continent. So the time seems just appropriate to dedicate an entry in my "thankful" series to the folks — especially..........Mom.
Mom is undoubtedly the brains of our little three-piece vehicle in the cornfields. She has our finest financial sensibility; she seems to instinctively know all the little things in domestic life that simply don't come naturally to father or me; she showed the lion's share of interest in and attention to me as I developed; she "sure can cook!"; and, as we and time have evolved, she greatly splits with me the task of looking after father (while she still looks after me to an extent).
We don't always see eye to eye on things. She still scoffs at the "Cheshire Adams" moniker; I suspect she always will. Our world views and basic philosophies are forever at odds with each other. Our mutual tastes are next to nil beyond the realm of food. But at the heart of the matter, she's kept me sheltered, fed, clothed, and comfortable. And those are pretty damn advantageous qualities.
So here's to Mom, a 'Book dweller among my friends here. I bid you a safe and pleasant journey across the globe, as well as health to Grandma and everybody. I'll be waiting for you over here......alone.....with father......and the dogs......and.......
OH GODS PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME
Lucky thirteenth: Mother is at grandma's place intact. Yay!
Fourteenth or againtht them?:
A bot cannot replace me.
Σ;+)
(Editor's note: At the time of the fourteenth entry, the 'Book feed was flooded with people playing with an app called "What Would I Say?" that read the users' statuses and produced mostly nonsensical word strings based thereon, signed "-[user]bot".)
Out of my brain on this fine fifteenth:
A day shall come when I will never again have to do suburban yard work.
Sweet sixteenth:
Hugs.
Most any time I can get 'em, I'll give 'em. This culture is nearly devoid of friendly physical touch — much to its detriment, I firmly believe. We're hardly close with anybody anymore. Physical proximity just may promote mental/spiritual proximity. And if nothing else, it's something I can give in the absence of items or funds.
(Conceivably related note: family Thanksgiving tomorrow! Yay!)
Edge of seventeenth: These all-too-elusive *joyous* family gatherings.
(posted a considerable number of hours before the event, so that I may be enjoying the actual event rather than checking into cyberspace all throughout it. Ya dig?)
What I eighteenth:
Cranberry sauce, pickles, dark meat, shrimp, pasta, cake, pie, chocolate, and all other edible delights.
Thanks also to the family and friends that allowed me to partake in festivities this past day!
Nineteenth new-Facebook-down:
Music.
I can't imagine too many of you who are friends with me requiring an explanation of this, so suffice it to say that life would suffer greatly without it.
Where you twentieth (h/t EJ):
A follow-up to yesterday's entry: The fact that, so far, I have been able to freely engage in discovery and sharing of musics without legal consequence. Supposedly, some countries have essentially banned music altogether. So far, this country has managed to fight the suits to an extent. Keep it up.
Also, that there have been people with whom to share and discuss music in cyberspace. My tastes tend to not grant me many friends in physical proximity.
Here, for instance, is the song I reference in the heading, a light psych affair from Norway. Enjoy while you can; there's a message on the top of the page that reads "Hi, United States JUZP is upgrading. music will be filtered. sorry for rare interruption". (But I do assure you, Kaspersky doesn't mind the common site among Google Video search results.)
Twenty-first (Ambrosia):
One more in the music section: Not only that I can indulge in the music of others, but that I have also been able to craft a certain amount of original material. This, to me, definitively states that I am a unique being — passion incarnate — rather than a clone who accepts whatever trash the powers that be have decided is popular and right. Whose was that quote about having created something? It's made the rounds on here often enough. It's something like that. Create! Firmly establish yourself as alive in this world!
Also, natch, the contemporary technology that allows me (and many) to upload my recordings to a place where they can be heard anywhere there is internet. Given the heading, I cannot resist linking to my relevant song here once again......
Twenty-second to none:
This.
The only dog I ever cared for.
Twenty-third in the punchbowl:
I sense this series has worn thin. Either I'm running on a premise that was stale two years ago, or I've bared maybe just a little too much of my inner mind. So for your Saturday, I nominate feedback and honest discussion, wherever and whenever it may be offered. Too often we, as a species, ditch the truth in favor of "politeness" or some such thing. Truth is, there is absolutely nothing polite about silence as a response to a thought. Anyone who responds with silence may as well not exist. And lying through your teeth (or keys, or touchpad) is just bad for everyone. Speak your mind. Don't hold back. You look fat, and that's perfectly fine.
Packs of twenty-fourth:
Warmth.
Physical or personable, I thrive on 'em all. These flatlands are a bit short of the physical on this late November day; luckily, our house has nicely functioning heating. And I suspect you all know by now what I think of this country's overall personality these days.....
Twenty-fifth to serve:
Laughter. Science-proven natural medicine. However downward we may spiral, we must always remember (how) to laugh. Beware the ones who lack a sense of humor; they are a certain ticket to misery.
Here is a YouTube channel that features just about the entirety of the UK Whose Line is it Anyway (and related shows), a show that picks up after the first two or three seasons and is much less rigidly censored than the US version.
By the way, what makes you laugh? Comment away!
Twenty-sixth and tired:
I don't feel the pressure of deadlines and strict following of artificial rules, and so on days like this when my brain is a blank, I can post something quick and stupid like this. Or nothing.
:+)~
Twenty-seventh heaven:
Cats.
'Nuff said.
Twenty-eighth — Chanukiving, or Thanksgivukah, or "I'm not prepared for this!":
Just before I posted the link to this article yesterday, I tweeted the author, "To put it simply: Thank you for that piece." He courteously responded: "You're very welcome. Thanks for the thanks." And that just seems about right. So, for your once-in-seven-eons celebration today, I nominate for ...."Chanoveming"? (Thanksgivember + Chanukiving.... I dunno. Ain't portmanteaus fun?)......
Gratitude. It's easy to lose or forget in contemporary society, where everything is relentlessly slung at you in mass quantities. How do we react when we're stuck in traffic in our cars with climate-control and high-definition audio systems in a spot beyond cell phone signal reception? Or when a long-time bug-and-incompetence-plagued cyber-hangout that we frequented nonetheless is shutting down? How do we treat the conceivably imperfect families that took us in and accept(ed) us?
Some food for thought to accompany the food for the twice-over holiday.
Happy travels (I'm about to see to my own),
~C.A.~
Tie-dyed (not black) twenty-ninth:
A certain wit and wordsmithery. It's gotten me bugger-all in life beyond cyberspace so far, but it is such good free, noncommercial fun, ain't it?
Down and thirtieth:
Finally, in a moment of blatant pandering, I would like to acknowledge all of *you* for keeping me entertained and relatively sane in these trying times that don't have to try very hard, and for at least putting up with this Thanksgivember nonsense and some of my politics revealed herein. I don't have many places I can go, so it's nice to have a friendly virtual place.
I know you're sorry to see this series end, so I'll ask you: What would you like to see from me in your cybertravels? Little observations? Youtube Facebook DJing? Words and links of sociopolitical conscience? Or maybe just bad puns and cat pictures? Clue me in if you have a preference.
Decent December, descendants! (h/t Wim)
Friday, August 23, 2013
Au Naturel?
While crawling through my 'Book feed a few days ago, I chanced upon a friend's thread, all about whether or not women ought to ever shave any part of them — pits, legs, something in between — any part. I couldn't immediately think of something to say about it, so I went on with my unemployed day, dodging family and cruising in Street View. (Side note: I've actually discovered Geoguessr since I posted that link from May; however, I've momentarily taken a break from landing in Brasil every game and getting super-annoyed in Russia. I have nothing against Brasil, mind you; I'm sure it's as fine a country as one can find in South America. I just prefer a little more variety in my blind-drop nations. As for Russia, it seems rather a chaotic place. Driving there is obviously insane; even though Street View images are static, it shows. And I'm sure everyone's heard about them a fair amount in the news. They'll harbor the whistleblower Snowden, but they'll hard-labor-imprison most of Pussy Riot while they thrash homosexuals and the like in various manners. In my yearning for world travels, I think I'll pass on the old Soviet master.) ......Where was I? Women's body hair, right. And as I clicked down the winding road, something struck me. This became my comment.
*~*~*~*
I'm fiddling around in Street View right now, as I'm all too wont to do. At the moment, I'm in a piece of Appalachia. There are bits where the imagery wavers between old, low-def 2008 imagery and new, hi-def 2012 imagery. Aside from the vastly improved resolution, there are obvious roads that didn't quite exist in 2008. This is difficult for my life-long midwest-bound mind to grasp, but, in Appalachia, it is necessary to carve into hills to make room for roads. Most of the roads run through the spaces formerly occupied by the now-erased bits of hill, leaving all this exposed rock.
While the exposed rock at the roadside is a kind of exotica to me in the corn fields, it is also, when I get down to it, kind of bizarre. There's all this wonderful green around, and then, every last bit of a sudden, there's this odd wall of lifeless tan. As newly done as it is, there isn't a blade of grass in the whole thing — at least, until I get to where it isn't quite so new, and nature has started to reclaim that lost real estate at the roadside in its way. The newer exposed rock looks decidedly unnatural and a tad off-putting.
It rather reminded me of this thread, which I saw earlier. ★
*~*~*~*
I'm fiddling around in Street View right now, as I'm all too wont to do. At the moment, I'm in a piece of Appalachia. There are bits where the imagery wavers between old, low-def 2008 imagery and new, hi-def 2012 imagery. Aside from the vastly improved resolution, there are obvious roads that didn't quite exist in 2008. This is difficult for my life-long midwest-bound mind to grasp, but, in Appalachia, it is necessary to carve into hills to make room for roads. Most of the roads run through the spaces formerly occupied by the now-erased bits of hill, leaving all this exposed rock.
While the exposed rock at the roadside is a kind of exotica to me in the corn fields, it is also, when I get down to it, kind of bizarre. There's all this wonderful green around, and then, every last bit of a sudden, there's this odd wall of lifeless tan. As newly done as it is, there isn't a blade of grass in the whole thing — at least, until I get to where it isn't quite so new, and nature has started to reclaim that lost real estate at the roadside in its way. The newer exposed rock looks decidedly unnatural and a tad off-putting.
It rather reminded me of this thread, which I saw earlier. ★
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Monday, April 8, 2013
Some things that appeared on my "news feed" on Facebook this past day:
• Two celebrity deaths: One a polarizing political figure from the UK, the other a popular entertainer from before my time. I feel no personal connection to either. There seemed genuine sadness for the Disney representative; reaction to the former prime minister was rather more interesting. One person produced a picture of Mags and the Gipper and proclaimed that "these two are responsible for the world being as it is today" (paraphrased). Looking at this world, that would seem to be more of a dyslogy than a eulogy. (Does English have a proper word that can go where I made that one up? "On-grave dance"?) One person simply delivered the news gleefully and sing-song-ily. And at least one other person had a shared status scorning the celebration of certain deaths. Speaking of which:
• An article link proclaiming that the Westboro Baptist Church will picket the funeral of Roger Ebert. I don't know if my international audience gets to hear much about the Westboro Baptist Church, so lest you don't, the Kansas-based hate group is known for outright stirring up anger by showing up at various funerals (e.g. those of soldiers) and other events and spewing anti-gay and other vile sentiments. What they could possibly have against the central Illinois native film critic, frankly, I don't want to know. I didn't read the article.
• Monsanto with its chemicals and genetically modified food will destroy us all, and we are powerless to prevent it or circumvent it by, say, growing our own food and banding together.
• Exxon turned an Arkansas neighborhood into an oil lake and doesn't want anyone to know.
• Palestine, or Hamas, or somebody, is still firing rockets into Israel.
• People ought to be who they are and not let anyone drag them down.
• "Remove the North Korean supreme leader!"
• Of the two people that mentioned their marital engagements this past day, one has learned that their aunt has terminal cancer and is estimated to have about two months left.
• The usual assortment of memes, Doctor Who references that have ever gradually come into focus for this writer who has never seen a single episode, an overwhelming number of YouTube song "videos", and words of presumed wisdom imposed over pictures of natural beauty which I'll probably never see in person.
• And, last but not least, my cousin's announcement that the child within her will be "evicted" (her word choice) midnight on Thursday if he makes no effort to emerge on his own before then.
This last just seemed somehow poetic to me. In fact, I do faintly recall a poem, somewhere in my childhood, expressing the sentiment of an unborn child who doesn't want to leave the warm, safe womb. Silverstein, maybe? I'll have to dig out those books when I have a moment.
There's a theory that the world was always this mad and that it's just more apparent and magnified in the digital age. There's also a theory that the digital age is accelerating the madness. (Though they didn't show up so much this past day, women's rights, LGBT rights, and all kinds of "occupy"-style sentiments are also ongoing conflicts and staples of my news feed. Oh, and can't forget climate change, threatening to flood the planet and bust its orbit.) I know I've mentioned drawbacks of the digital age before: we're antisocial, and we're angry and judgemental. Catharses are intensifying, and it's getting uglier out there all the time. At least we can count on the Cubs rendering themselves unrecognizable and losing.
And so I'm thinking about that "cousin once removed" who evidently doesn't want to be removed. I'm hoping he will be able to know and keep peace of mind. He does have one thing going for him: an awesome pair of parents (with awesome taste in housepets)!
****
Meanwhile, I'm pretty much wasting away in the flatlands. Later this morning, I'm going to another probably fruitless meeting in the state employment office. Then, after that, I'm going to a friend's house to watch cartoons. I might also check out a local "singer-songwriter collective" in the evening.
I got a debit card recently. This has me thinking now about setting up a Paypal and including a "donations" button on here. Maybe somebody would use it. Or, I can try selling an "album" on Bandcamp. Though I'd like to record (and finish writing) a few more things before I attempt that. (Covers don't fly on Bandcamp.)
And I may have an opportunity to record soon. I won't be going to meet my cousin-once-removed, but my mother will. I'll have about a week's reprieve from being in the bathroom when my mother gets home and, when I get out to greet her, the first thing she disdainfully intones is "Gee, do you do anything else besides sit in the bathroom?!" And if I can get Dad out of the house for a while, I have only the dogs waiting to bark to contend with. With all the carpet now gone in favor of hardwood, the house acoustics are rather too good.
How 'bout it? Is it worth the bother? Anyone willing to support me?
• Two celebrity deaths: One a polarizing political figure from the UK, the other a popular entertainer from before my time. I feel no personal connection to either. There seemed genuine sadness for the Disney representative; reaction to the former prime minister was rather more interesting. One person produced a picture of Mags and the Gipper and proclaimed that "these two are responsible for the world being as it is today" (paraphrased). Looking at this world, that would seem to be more of a dyslogy than a eulogy. (Does English have a proper word that can go where I made that one up? "On-grave dance"?) One person simply delivered the news gleefully and sing-song-ily. And at least one other person had a shared status scorning the celebration of certain deaths. Speaking of which:
• An article link proclaiming that the Westboro Baptist Church will picket the funeral of Roger Ebert. I don't know if my international audience gets to hear much about the Westboro Baptist Church, so lest you don't, the Kansas-based hate group is known for outright stirring up anger by showing up at various funerals (e.g. those of soldiers) and other events and spewing anti-gay and other vile sentiments. What they could possibly have against the central Illinois native film critic, frankly, I don't want to know. I didn't read the article.
• Monsanto with its chemicals and genetically modified food will destroy us all, and we are powerless to prevent it or circumvent it by, say, growing our own food and banding together.
• Exxon turned an Arkansas neighborhood into an oil lake and doesn't want anyone to know.
• Palestine, or Hamas, or somebody, is still firing rockets into Israel.
• People ought to be who they are and not let anyone drag them down.
• "Remove the North Korean supreme leader!"
• Of the two people that mentioned their marital engagements this past day, one has learned that their aunt has terminal cancer and is estimated to have about two months left.
• The usual assortment of memes, Doctor Who references that have ever gradually come into focus for this writer who has never seen a single episode, an overwhelming number of YouTube song "videos", and words of presumed wisdom imposed over pictures of natural beauty which I'll probably never see in person.
• And, last but not least, my cousin's announcement that the child within her will be "evicted" (her word choice) midnight on Thursday if he makes no effort to emerge on his own before then.
This last just seemed somehow poetic to me. In fact, I do faintly recall a poem, somewhere in my childhood, expressing the sentiment of an unborn child who doesn't want to leave the warm, safe womb. Silverstein, maybe? I'll have to dig out those books when I have a moment.
There's a theory that the world was always this mad and that it's just more apparent and magnified in the digital age. There's also a theory that the digital age is accelerating the madness. (Though they didn't show up so much this past day, women's rights, LGBT rights, and all kinds of "occupy"-style sentiments are also ongoing conflicts and staples of my news feed. Oh, and can't forget climate change, threatening to flood the planet and bust its orbit.) I know I've mentioned drawbacks of the digital age before: we're antisocial, and we're angry and judgemental. Catharses are intensifying, and it's getting uglier out there all the time. At least we can count on the Cubs rendering themselves unrecognizable and losing.
And so I'm thinking about that "cousin once removed" who evidently doesn't want to be removed. I'm hoping he will be able to know and keep peace of mind. He does have one thing going for him: an awesome pair of parents (with awesome taste in housepets)!
****
Meanwhile, I'm pretty much wasting away in the flatlands. Later this morning, I'm going to another probably fruitless meeting in the state employment office. Then, after that, I'm going to a friend's house to watch cartoons. I might also check out a local "singer-songwriter collective" in the evening.
I got a debit card recently. This has me thinking now about setting up a Paypal and including a "donations" button on here. Maybe somebody would use it. Or, I can try selling an "album" on Bandcamp. Though I'd like to record (and finish writing) a few more things before I attempt that. (Covers don't fly on Bandcamp.)
And I may have an opportunity to record soon. I won't be going to meet my cousin-once-removed, but my mother will. I'll have about a week's reprieve from being in the bathroom when my mother gets home and, when I get out to greet her, the first thing she disdainfully intones is "Gee, do you do anything else besides sit in the bathroom?!" And if I can get Dad out of the house for a while, I have only the dogs waiting to bark to contend with. With all the carpet now gone in favor of hardwood, the house acoustics are rather too good.
How 'bout it? Is it worth the bother? Anyone willing to support me?
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
One Last Round of Facebook Selections (and Why It's the Last)
Lest I still have any readers that don't come here by way of the social networks... Right around the two-year anniversary of my second Facebook account, I decided to wrap it up and find a new outlet for my witticisms. The overwhelming majority of my "friends" there weren't really friends at all. There were simply too many people who never talked to me or so much as gave me a "like", and with whom I didn't otherwise connect at all, even though I'd known most of them for a great many years. Perhaps they were just busy; perhaps they were humoring me by keeping me as a friend while "unsubscribing" from me. I can't tell. A great many of them were married and/or had (or having) kids. I don't much care about the kids, and all the marriages just served to remind me that I'm hopelessly alone in a place where people are bred to shun individualist guys with beards and deep voices. And it sure seems like once people are married, they have to break off all other social contacts, save for a few close friends.
So, I'm kind of bitter. I decided I needed to get away from all these people on whose walls I can only say "~<:-)" (my version of "happy birthday") when it's their birthday because I have nothing personal to say. Time to find a new outlet. And so I came up with...
Twitter.
Feeling bitter? Come to Twitter! Heh. *cough* I'm also transferring the few groovy people from that second 'Book account to my original account. Anyone who's an actual human is welcome to add me there. I'm also set up on Google+, but I very seldom check that desert.
Okay, so now that I've issued my usual cry for attention and appreciation (and no doubt repelled everyone), here's the last batch of my favorite of my own Facebook statuses, as well as the first few "choice chirps" — favorite tweets. Here's to many more.
****
I was always a bit self-absorbed growing up. It turns out a "graphic novel" is not just a regular novel with more detailed descriptions of gore.
Why do we call 'em "The Lower 48" when one of the other two is farther south?
Expressions we ought to have: Shit got had!
Tie-dye shirts are great. If they get "stained", no one knows. It just blends right in.
Toilet roll: A particular type of oddly-shaped bit of bread.
Sight of the night: A vehicle labeled "Luxury Transport" with the tailpipe dragging on the ground.
I've thought it over, and I've decided I'd rather be a pussy than a dick.
I never know quite what to say on or about Memorial Day. Words like "happy" and "celebrate" seem wrong. Best I can think of is, May peace (have) come to our military folks. And I hope that's right.
That's whatever-number-you-just-said more than I've done.
BAD ROAD! BAD!
....oh, sorry, am I not allowed to hit the road anymore?
If food be the music of love, cook on.
someoneelse's(•'e)cards
My family argues to the point where it corrodes your nerves. They're acidic Jews.
Caption in search of an illustration:
CROSSWORD PUZZLE
HAPPYWORD PUZZLE
Is a single piece of ravioli a raviolus? These things eat at me. And vice versa.
It was all right at first, but I gotta tell you, I've gone right off the idea of having a cup of shut the fuck up, or a bowl of bow to my superiority, or whatever container of whatever directive. Please, have a vat of leave me alone.
You are somewhere else.
In wanting to be free, it seems most people are quick to settle for being cheap.
Monkey-descendant see, monkey-descendant consider.
Don't talk with your mouth open. Don't eat with your mouth full.
I ain't out of the cornfields yet.
STREET VIEW VIRTUAL ROAD TRIP!
If you're really interested in privacy, why are you on Facebook in the first place?
I'm getting mighty fucking sick of all these "job openings" that require experience. Is it too much fucking trouble to actually teach someone the simple task of shuffling papers and answering the phone professionally? I know this status jolly well casts the latter in doubt, but I think I could at least try. But if so many of these jobs or would-be employers require experience, how the fuck does anybody get a job in the first place? I'm tired of this shit.
*pant* *pant*
Okay, I'll put my *pant*s back on.
An antimorphous face
not too far from red
concealing worlds and eras forgotten
He's dealt with the space-time anomaly very well
outrunning the ever-encroaching homesickness
but now a rare friend in Wonderland
escorts him to the tarmac
Takeoff is soon
The third tentacle didn't know what the seventh tentacle was doing.
Please.....make Flo the Progressive salescreature go away.
republicunt
democrap
While listening to Chuck Berry's Roll Over Beethoven, I suddenly realize where the phrase "rhythm & blues" comes from. It's standard twelve-bar blues set to a novel, prevalent rhythm. Freaky.
There's another component of the whole college football culture that turns me off: the marching band music. I just don't like it. It all sounds the same, and it doesn't do anything for me. Basically it serves to connote the whole "we rock, they suck" cultural mindframe.
I suppose it's not an accident that I spend most of my time alone, listening to weird stuff.
An idea in search of an illustration: a fat Steal Your Face logo, called Stuff Your Face
If it hasn't been already, I think we should go ahead and redefine "acronym" as any set of initials.
I find it rather interesting that Frankie Valli's whi-yi-yine was actually a smash-hit once upon a time and an oldies staple yet. It's just totally counter-intuitive.
What is this nonsense I've heard about "I'm just like everyone else; I put my pants on one leg at a time"? I don't know about anyone else, but you know what I do? I sit on the edge of the bed, hold the top of the pants open, lift my legs, and FOOMP! Both legs at once. Now, socks! THOSE I gotta put on one at a time!
The thing I was eating that I thought was ice cream instead turned out to be "frozen dairy dessert".
Here's something wonderfully stupid: natil gip. Take any word that ends in "ay", remove the "ay", and put the new last letter at the beginning. There's a wonderful w to l a bit of dto to waste.
Sorry, sharing is unavailable at this time. Please try again later.
—Google
Forever Unemployed meme:
FORGETS TO CHECK NEW "PROFESSIONAL" EMAIL ACCOUNT
DOESN'T MATTER
another Forever Unemployed meme:
GETS EMAIL WITH JOB OFFER
MUST BE A PHISHING SCAM
That "said no one ever" comment is really clever!
....guess what goes here.
You may have reached adulthood if you've taken up doing crosswords.
You also may have reached adulthood if you complain to yourself about the horrible clues and certain subjects the crosswords feature. Has it occurred to these people that some of us don't live in New York?!
Passing thought: Is it safe to get in the other lane and pull ahead?
Stream of consciousness
expand out to a river
and to the ocean
Peddle. There's a word that's all but disappeared. All we got now are vendors and salespeople. What happened to the peddlers? Bring back the peddlers!
Also, I sense that there was once a single word "launder" for "do laundry" or "wash clothes" that got hijacked by criminals over the years. I'm too lazy to do laundry; I'd rather launder.
I know Clapton didn't write Cocaine, but those first four notes sound eerily similar to those of his earlier Cream hit, Sunshine of Your Love.
I've never been near the Arctic Circle, but I hear it has a certain aurora to it.
Soup: A clever way to simultaneously quench hunger and thirst.
Apparently there exists out there somewhere a different kind of mouse — one not associated with a computer. It leaves "droppings".
Hot dogs and pickles. How phallic was your dinner?
The frequency with which physics manages to turn my clothes inside-out in the appliances is kind of astounding.
As a writer, I'm trying to learn the fine distinctions between pretty, beautiful, lovely, and gorgeous.
Driving backwards, I
only realize ever
increasing distance
Talking at cross-purposes: vehemently arguing.
I have to question the use of "for good" to mean "forever". In this soulless, corporate age, I rather doubt that these local shops are closing "for good".
I should totally adopt "Is that a euphemism?" as a catchphrase.
A lone ant on the
bathroom wall. Now that's an in-
dividualist
If you can't stand the bark, part ways with the dog.
You know what kind of pet I like? One whose mere access to their equivalent of the bathroom doesn't depend on me.
Open window behind closed blinds
My parents put the "err" in "errand".
With so many windows open, it's a wonder this thing doesn't freeze more often.
I don't even have this car.
All it takes is one small "oops".
Instead of tweeting, I think I'll chirp. Take that, establishment!
So, I'm kind of bitter. I decided I needed to get away from all these people on whose walls I can only say "~<:-)" (my version of "happy birthday") when it's their birthday because I have nothing personal to say. Time to find a new outlet. And so I came up with...
Twitter.
Feeling bitter? Come to Twitter! Heh. *cough* I'm also transferring the few groovy people from that second 'Book account to my original account. Anyone who's an actual human is welcome to add me there. I'm also set up on Google+, but I very seldom check that desert.
Okay, so now that I've issued my usual cry for attention and appreciation (and no doubt repelled everyone), here's the last batch of my favorite of my own Facebook statuses, as well as the first few "choice chirps" — favorite tweets. Here's to many more.
****
I was always a bit self-absorbed growing up. It turns out a "graphic novel" is not just a regular novel with more detailed descriptions of gore.
Why do we call 'em "The Lower 48" when one of the other two is farther south?
Expressions we ought to have: Shit got had!
Tie-dye shirts are great. If they get "stained", no one knows. It just blends right in.
Toilet roll: A particular type of oddly-shaped bit of bread.
Sight of the night: A vehicle labeled "Luxury Transport" with the tailpipe dragging on the ground.
I've thought it over, and I've decided I'd rather be a pussy than a dick.
I never know quite what to say on or about Memorial Day. Words like "happy" and "celebrate" seem wrong. Best I can think of is, May peace (have) come to our military folks. And I hope that's right.
That's whatever-number-you-just-said more than I've done.
BAD ROAD! BAD!
....oh, sorry, am I not allowed to hit the road anymore?
If food be the music of love, cook on.
someoneelse's(•'e)cards
My family argues to the point where it corrodes your nerves. They're acidic Jews.
Caption in search of an illustration:
CROSSWORD PUZZLE
HAPPYWORD PUZZLE
Is a single piece of ravioli a raviolus? These things eat at me. And vice versa.
It was all right at first, but I gotta tell you, I've gone right off the idea of having a cup of shut the fuck up, or a bowl of bow to my superiority, or whatever container of whatever directive. Please, have a vat of leave me alone.
You are somewhere else.
In wanting to be free, it seems most people are quick to settle for being cheap.
Monkey-descendant see, monkey-descendant consider.
Don't talk with your mouth open. Don't eat with your mouth full.
I ain't out of the cornfields yet.
STREET VIEW VIRTUAL ROAD TRIP!
If you're really interested in privacy, why are you on Facebook in the first place?
I'm getting mighty fucking sick of all these "job openings" that require experience. Is it too much fucking trouble to actually teach someone the simple task of shuffling papers and answering the phone professionally? I know this status jolly well casts the latter in doubt, but I think I could at least try. But if so many of these jobs or would-be employers require experience, how the fuck does anybody get a job in the first place? I'm tired of this shit.
*pant* *pant*
Okay, I'll put my *pant*s back on.
An antimorphous face
not too far from red
concealing worlds and eras forgotten
He's dealt with the space-time anomaly very well
outrunning the ever-encroaching homesickness
but now a rare friend in Wonderland
escorts him to the tarmac
Takeoff is soon
The third tentacle didn't know what the seventh tentacle was doing.
Please.....make Flo the Progressive salescreature go away.
republicunt
democrap
While listening to Chuck Berry's Roll Over Beethoven, I suddenly realize where the phrase "rhythm & blues" comes from. It's standard twelve-bar blues set to a novel, prevalent rhythm. Freaky.
There's another component of the whole college football culture that turns me off: the marching band music. I just don't like it. It all sounds the same, and it doesn't do anything for me. Basically it serves to connote the whole "we rock, they suck" cultural mindframe.
I suppose it's not an accident that I spend most of my time alone, listening to weird stuff.
An idea in search of an illustration: a fat Steal Your Face logo, called Stuff Your Face
If it hasn't been already, I think we should go ahead and redefine "acronym" as any set of initials.
I find it rather interesting that Frankie Valli's whi-yi-yine was actually a smash-hit once upon a time and an oldies staple yet. It's just totally counter-intuitive.
What is this nonsense I've heard about "I'm just like everyone else; I put my pants on one leg at a time"? I don't know about anyone else, but you know what I do? I sit on the edge of the bed, hold the top of the pants open, lift my legs, and FOOMP! Both legs at once. Now, socks! THOSE I gotta put on one at a time!
The thing I was eating that I thought was ice cream instead turned out to be "frozen dairy dessert".
Here's something wonderfully stupid: natil gip. Take any word that ends in "ay", remove the "ay", and put the new last letter at the beginning. There's a wonderful w to l a bit of dto to waste.
Sorry, sharing is unavailable at this time. Please try again later.
Forever Unemployed meme:
FORGETS TO CHECK NEW "PROFESSIONAL" EMAIL ACCOUNT
DOESN'T MATTER
another Forever Unemployed meme:
GETS EMAIL WITH JOB OFFER
MUST BE A PHISHING SCAM
That "said no one ever" comment is really clever!
....guess what goes here.
You may have reached adulthood if you've taken up doing crosswords.
You also may have reached adulthood if you complain to yourself about the horrible clues and certain subjects the crosswords feature. Has it occurred to these people that some of us don't live in New York?!
Passing thought: Is it safe to get in the other lane and pull ahead?
Stream of consciousness
expand out to a river
and to the ocean
Peddle. There's a word that's all but disappeared. All we got now are vendors and salespeople. What happened to the peddlers? Bring back the peddlers!
Also, I sense that there was once a single word "launder" for "do laundry" or "wash clothes" that got hijacked by criminals over the years. I'm too lazy to do laundry; I'd rather launder.
I know Clapton didn't write Cocaine, but those first four notes sound eerily similar to those of his earlier Cream hit, Sunshine of Your Love.
I've never been near the Arctic Circle, but I hear it has a certain aurora to it.
Soup: A clever way to simultaneously quench hunger and thirst.
Apparently there exists out there somewhere a different kind of mouse — one not associated with a computer. It leaves "droppings".
Hot dogs and pickles. How phallic was your dinner?
The frequency with which physics manages to turn my clothes inside-out in the appliances is kind of astounding.
As a writer, I'm trying to learn the fine distinctions between pretty, beautiful, lovely, and gorgeous.
Driving backwards, I
only realize ever
increasing distance
Talking at cross-purposes: vehemently arguing.
I have to question the use of "for good" to mean "forever". In this soulless, corporate age, I rather doubt that these local shops are closing "for good".
I should totally adopt "Is that a euphemism?" as a catchphrase.
A lone ant on the
bathroom wall. Now that's an in-
dividualist
If you can't stand the bark, part ways with the dog.
You know what kind of pet I like? One whose mere access to their equivalent of the bathroom doesn't depend on me.
Open window behind closed blinds
My parents put the "err" in "errand".
With so many windows open, it's a wonder this thing doesn't freeze more often.
I don't even have this car.
All it takes is one small "oops".
Instead of tweeting, I think I'll chirp. Take that, establishment!
Monday, May 7, 2012
Facebook Selections, Pt. III
Not quite seven months this time.
These posts are crazy-long, aren't they?
"Look at you!" What is this condescending nonsense? "Look at you!" I know damn well what I look like or what I'm doing. I don't need the approval of some arrogant, self-righteous nitwit. Take a look at *your*self, why don't you? *I'm* going to look at the ladies!
While trying to light the Chanukah candles, the flame went out on us. Oops.
Often, the local lanes move faster than the express.
The child just wanted to gaze into the wrapping paper, while everyone else wanted to tear it apart.
(the night after Christmas) Well, I'd better get in line for my King Day shopping.
There should be a band called "Turns Out They Were Midgets. Who Knew?".
I'm just a bit of a ways down the interstate from Normal.
I'm tired of hearing about smart phones. I'd rather have a wise phone.
Just *some* of a sudden
I think I've figured out why dubstep and autotune are popular. Somewhere along the line, people discovered that the beat is the only thing people can hear in a crowded night space, and therefore all other aspects of the music could be absolute non-biodegradable fecal matter, long as the beat remained intact. Hey, even if they do hear other aspects of the music, everyone's drunk anyway.
First world problems: Feeling obligated to appear concerned for all humanity by describing some inanity on the Internet as a "first world problem".
i can haz original thoughtz
I was very self-absorbed growing up. It turns out they're saying "DE-FENSE". I always just heard "heave heh" and thought it was just some kind of good-time gibberish.
"I took a women's psychology class once .... That teacher was such a bitch!" —My mother
"Everything" bagels only have poppy and sesame seeds, and bits of onion. How is that "everything"? I demand everything from rubber to lilac on my each and every bagel! It's the Jewish version of Every Flavor Beans. Harry Pottman goes to Hogschwartz!
Your attention please: "Cheshire" rhymes with "pressure". That is all.
The Super Bowl: A celebration of the fact that we're just about done with football for a few solid months. Good.
"Mommy, why are you watching a show about mothers who kill their children?"
Cheshire sez: Business that is open is most likely to get business.
I hope this isn't "TMI", but I came to realize that the sound my toilet makes when returning from "flushed" to "ready" could totally pass as background for ambient music.
*ZIP!* —the sound of a deadline whooshing by. Also, how much of a damn I give.
Life's simple pleasures: Bubble wrap.
When I was growing up, my mother told me "don't be fresh". Well, what's the alternative to being fresh? Being rotten! Am I right?
I'm sorry, but I just cannot look at that and interpret it as something other than "Deadmau Five".
Accurate adjective is accurate
Inane meme is inane
If you're building your toolbox, where do you keep the tools when you take a break?
iDunno
Thought someone called my name, but I guess that was just the music.
on we: ennui
cunt-rol freak
Menards: what a Brit exclaims when he's hit in the groin.
Life's simple pleasures: A good chocolate shake; good live music; good times and laughs with groovy people; all those things together.
I think that, if the characters in a commercial are going to have a conversation made out of the lyrics of a pop song, the commercial should be prohibited from playing the actual song at the end. It's insulting to the viewers' intelligence.
Lately it occurs to me...the new Pepsi logo looks suspiciously similar to the Steal Your Face logo.
"Facebook us! We tow cars!" —rearrangable sign for a corner convenience store
Is there an opposite of "je ne sais quois"? You know, a certain UNendearing quality? Seems like there ought to be.
I am wholly against cat declawing, but I wouldn't mind dog delarynxing.
Beating a cold: Laying off some olfactory workers.
Baseball player: A ballpark figure.
There is nothing like the roar of really good seltzer.
We have an adjective "dreary", but we don't have a noun "drear". It would be useful for describing my father.
The problem with nice days is, battling flying pests all evening.
has-been
husband
Bud Light is using "Here We Go" as a signifier of a good time. Usually, when I say "here we go", it means my family is getting into a routine and wholly unpleasant argument. "Ugh, here we go..."
Apparently, "Washington University" is in St. Louis. This kind of thing might be why I never got into college sports.
Like a simile
it turns out I don't always
like a simile
These posts are crazy-long, aren't they?
"Look at you!" What is this condescending nonsense? "Look at you!" I know damn well what I look like or what I'm doing. I don't need the approval of some arrogant, self-righteous nitwit. Take a look at *your*self, why don't you? *I'm* going to look at the ladies!
While trying to light the Chanukah candles, the flame went out on us. Oops.
Often, the local lanes move faster than the express.
The child just wanted to gaze into the wrapping paper, while everyone else wanted to tear it apart.
(the night after Christmas) Well, I'd better get in line for my King Day shopping.
There should be a band called "Turns Out They Were Midgets. Who Knew?".
I'm just a bit of a ways down the interstate from Normal.
I'm tired of hearing about smart phones. I'd rather have a wise phone.
Just *some* of a sudden
I think I've figured out why dubstep and autotune are popular. Somewhere along the line, people discovered that the beat is the only thing people can hear in a crowded night space, and therefore all other aspects of the music could be absolute non-biodegradable fecal matter, long as the beat remained intact. Hey, even if they do hear other aspects of the music, everyone's drunk anyway.
First world problems: Feeling obligated to appear concerned for all humanity by describing some inanity on the Internet as a "first world problem".
i can haz original thoughtz
I was very self-absorbed growing up. It turns out they're saying "DE-FENSE". I always just heard "heave heh" and thought it was just some kind of good-time gibberish.
"I took a women's psychology class once .... That teacher was such a bitch!" —My mother
"Everything" bagels only have poppy and sesame seeds, and bits of onion. How is that "everything"? I demand everything from rubber to lilac on my each and every bagel! It's the Jewish version of Every Flavor Beans. Harry Pottman goes to Hogschwartz!
Your attention please: "Cheshire" rhymes with "pressure". That is all.
The Super Bowl: A celebration of the fact that we're just about done with football for a few solid months. Good.
"Mommy, why are you watching a show about mothers who kill their children?"
Cheshire sez: Business that is open is most likely to get business.
I hope this isn't "TMI", but I came to realize that the sound my toilet makes when returning from "flushed" to "ready" could totally pass as background for ambient music.
*ZIP!* —the sound of a deadline whooshing by. Also, how much of a damn I give.
Life's simple pleasures: Bubble wrap.
When I was growing up, my mother told me "don't be fresh". Well, what's the alternative to being fresh? Being rotten! Am I right?
I'm sorry, but I just cannot look at that and interpret it as something other than "Deadmau Five".
Accurate adjective is accurate
Inane meme is inane
If you're building your toolbox, where do you keep the tools when you take a break?
iDunno
Thought someone called my name, but I guess that was just the music.
on we: ennui
cunt-rol freak
Menards: what a Brit exclaims when he's hit in the groin.
Life's simple pleasures: A good chocolate shake; good live music; good times and laughs with groovy people; all those things together.
I think that, if the characters in a commercial are going to have a conversation made out of the lyrics of a pop song, the commercial should be prohibited from playing the actual song at the end. It's insulting to the viewers' intelligence.
Lately it occurs to me...the new Pepsi logo looks suspiciously similar to the Steal Your Face logo.
"Facebook us! We tow cars!" —rearrangable sign for a corner convenience store
Is there an opposite of "je ne sais quois"? You know, a certain UNendearing quality? Seems like there ought to be.
I am wholly against cat declawing, but I wouldn't mind dog delarynxing.
Beating a cold: Laying off some olfactory workers.
Baseball player: A ballpark figure.
There is nothing like the roar of really good seltzer.
We have an adjective "dreary", but we don't have a noun "drear". It would be useful for describing my father.
The problem with nice days is, battling flying pests all evening.
has-been
husband
Bud Light is using "Here We Go" as a signifier of a good time. Usually, when I say "here we go", it means my family is getting into a routine and wholly unpleasant argument. "Ugh, here we go..."
Apparently, "Washington University" is in St. Louis. This kind of thing might be why I never got into college sports.
Like a simile
it turns out I don't always
like a simile
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Selections from Seven *More* Months of a Second Facebook Account
This period saw the introduction of a subset of my friends on there who could see some uncensored stuff. There were maybe eight of my three hundred seventy-something friends on it, and they saw maybe five statuses that no one else did.
So, uh, happy Gregorian New Year, and enjoy!
It was a moment of intense, supernatural realization. The universe suddenly made sense. Armed with this newfound knowledge, I could take the whole bloody thing on, hand to void, and win. Ask the alarm clock. It took it.
Those graduate gowns are a wonderful shade of Cubbie Blue......
Toto...I've a feeling we're not on Campus anymore.
"Had you taken your antidepressants the day you committed the murder?"
"I honestly don't remember."
One of the few downsides of not having a mobile device is the inability to capture a photo or video of three people at the same table at a restaurant, all on their own mobile devices, completely silent.
On second thought, maybe that's all right.
Tabasco status. To spice up your news feed.
If pleasure is childish, I don't want to be an adult.
Have you noticed that we have "budding" geniuses but "bloomin'" idiots?
I'm too full of my own to take any of yours.
I could feel my brain ripping neatly in two. Although a sharp and abrupt sensation, it wasn't terribly painful. I knew that everything would be all right.
I was always rather self-absorbed. For years, I thought Lamaze was some kind of macramé-type artsy thing.
Some guitarists like to use picks; some prefer bare fingers. Different strokes, eh?
Great words in the English language: Awkward. It is as it says.
I tried hitting the Refresh button. It didn't work. I'm still groggy, high-strung and cranky.
The university's "spam digest" used to just leave me alone if I hadn't gotten any e-mails that qualified as spam that day. Now it sends me "0 new messages" e-mails.
"She used to be younger than you, but now she's your age." —my mom
I suppose that, as a Cubs fan, I should actually admire spammers and the like. Stayin' positive. Keepin' at it.
It's a nasty job, but someone's gotta do it. Or so we think.
"Smart as a whip". How is a whip smart? Does it drive the horses? Nothing with which we associate whips today connotes "smart". "Sadistically sexy as a whip", maybe. But not particularly smart.
I'm not always certain whether they're fruit flies or eye floaters.
Kvetch 22. You can't deal with something without complaining, but the complaining just makes the thing more difficult to deal with.
Life's simple pleasures: sucking the pimientos out of olives.
Things people say that bug me: "I'm just sayin'." To me, this implies that there's no thought behind the words. No substance. Just emptily sayin'. Just thought I ought to tell you.
Zombie mother to her children: "Eat your noodles!"
Hands-free phones: Allowing people who talk to themselves to not seem so crazy.
I saw a magazine cover that advertised "Ten style rules to break now!" Is it actually possible for style to be its own absence? Doesn't it render the whole thing meaningless? Maybe the new style is golf attire.
Why do we "write stuff down" but "type stuff up"?
I don't watch CSI or whichever show it is that he's on, but I figure Gary Sinise is a good actor by the fact that he seemed genuinely enthusiastic when performing the seventh inning stretch at the Cubs game.
"The Face Book" — the name of a book sitting on a table in the waiting area at the cosmetic surgeon's
Life's simple pleasures: Listening to the dogs crunch when I've given them croutons.
(Is it just me, or do all my "life's simple pleasures" involve food?)
A tiny spider
Roaming 'round the monitor
Trying to get down
I think the spiders are trying to tell me something by using me, at this position before the computer, to build their web from the ceiling.
You might be on Facebook a bit too much if, while driving someone else's car, a good while into the trip, you suddenly notice the little blue sticker in the bottom left of the windshield, and you think you got a notification.
I wonder if Lady Gaga is popular enough to get her own Google app. I'd enjoy hearing all the grown men and women talking about Google Gaga.
Watching my e-mail
For something personal that
Will kick my head in
Idle (or Idol) observation: Steven Tyler is appearing in drug rehab ads. He's also moved over the years from pioneering awesome rock to mainstream drek.
TV-MA-LSMFT
Who here "takes" lunch? I don't "take" lunch, but I will occasionally "have" lunch. The economy prevents me from "going out to" lunch often. Actually, I don't need to go out to it. I'm already there.
Life's little moments: Getting to your parents' empty house, using the house phone to call their cell, and hearing their cell ring in the next room.
You might be in a small town if it's late August, and the ballpark has a sign advertising an event for May 21.
You might be in a small town if you overhear someone say that it's okay if flies get in the house because it gives them something to do.
"Deal with it." There's an interesting turn of the English language. "That's the way it is. Deal with it." "Thank you, I will." POW!!! "There. I've dealt with it."
I gotta say, for all the praise I've heard about Paul Newman, he apparently never figured out the art of putting shaker tops on his dressings. (Yeah. I know. I'm a young'un.)
People I admire: a Gulliver's delivery guy with an "Official member of the Piss and Moan About Everything Club" T-shirt. "Welcome home", I told him.
We call it "playing" music even when we're dead serious about it. Although occasionally someone will "work" their guitar.
It seems smart, to me, to live east of the place you go during the day. That way, the sun isn't blinding you both ways.
Doing the dishes
Hoping that thereby I can
Feel a little warmth
"Let's make homemade 3D the next big thing." Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think there's already something very similar to this. It's called "life".
I, like many other Americans, suffer from an extreme and seldom diagnosed mental condition known as GAFDD, or Give a Fuck Deficit Disorder. Please copy and paste this to your status to raise awareness of this affliction. Or don't.
You ever ask a family member where they're going, and they say "out"? Don't you just want to punch them in the face?
You ever try to click "Cancel" for something on the computer, and the computer won't let you because it's too busy with the process you're trying to cancel?
You know how some people say "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all"? I say, fuck that shit!
The pepper-sprayer's name is Bologna? Man, you can't make this stuff up.
Where did the idea of calling one's children "Boo-boo" come from? "Boo-boo" in my mind refers to a scrape or similar injury — the result of an accident. Oh, wait.....
Is it "hipster" to dismiss hipsters as cliché?
"Divided by zero". Not divided. One. Thoughts like this are why I switched out of math/computer science.
A moccasin is a nice casual bit of footwear for indoor and light outdoor use. A water moccasin is a fanged, venomous creature of wilderness. How is this possible?
The serving spoon fell in.
It may perhaps be beneficial to folks to tell you this: I have very little sense of "cute". Puppies and babies do nothing for me, exactly one adult dog that I know of qualifies, and children only rarely qualify. Cats are more "majestic" than "cute", per se.
And I REALLY don't like referring to mixed-breed dogs with made-up combination words like shnoodle, chorkie, or whatever other god-awful concoctions I've heard. They're mutts! Mini, standard, and large, mutts!
I'm dog tired. Think I'll nap now.
It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World FTbigW
What starts with an F, ends with a K, and involves a lot of soul-crushing disappointment? (hint: the answer appears in the name of this blog post.)
"Those people on TV sound like you, Mommy!"
I don't think I've ever actually seen a prank "flag" gun in real life, but it seems to me, the flag ought to pop out in a way that the "victim" can see it, rather than rotated 90° like they're always portrayed.
"Word to the wise." Don't the wise already know the word? That's why they're wise. You don't need to give the word to the wise. The ignorant are the ones who could use it. "Word to the ignorant." That makes more sense to me.
Human animals: Pigs, road hogs, stupid cows, horses and bulldogs on the field, bunnies that aren't dogs, dirty rats, scaredy cats who are chicken, snakes in the grass, loan sharks. Sitting ducks for a poem or a song. Go get 'em, tiger!
The flower supplier for my cousin's wedding is called "Pollen"? Awesome! I can't wait to get my groceries at Artificial Preservatives!
The landing gear on my spacecraft is damaged. And the entire planet is hard land — no water. I'll have to remain in orbit indefinitely.
You ever bite into a Reese's for the first time in a long time and realize, after a couple seconds, that you're eating the redundant, inedible brown wrapper?
On this, the (pick your own integer)th day of Thanksgiving, I give thanks that I'm under absolutely no obligation to stay true to trends and can therefore skip days and indeed stop doing this altogether. Peace and love.
From the other room, the 60 Minutes ticking sounds like a parent making that "Naughty, naughty" sound. "Ntch ntch ntch ntch ntch ntch ntch ntch ntch.....bad TV viewer. You should know better."
Anal eyes
Analyze
Anal lies
(stares at this with hand on chin, pondering if it's worth anything)
It can hardly be a coincidence that there are three Ps in "puppy".
Dynamus
"Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there." Who here has someone they consider "a good neighbor"? Is a good neighbor merely one that leaves you alone? "Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there but will do nothing for you."
"Keep your eyes peeled." Do I even have to explain my puzzlement at how this one came about?
taking showers away from me
Considerate
Consider it
I keep my toiletries in a plastic bag from Reckless Records, which I keep in my bedroom. This way, they're not locked in a bathroom that someone else is using when I need to freshen up and leave in a rush.
Dinner just tastes so much better than supper, doesn't it?
Typist: One who discriminates against those who "aren't their type".
I wonder how much of my life I've spent drying stuff. My hands, dishes, clothes, the rest of my body. Seems like a lot sometimes.
If I ever have a child (ha ha), I think I'll name it "Fire".
With apologies to Tom Paxton:
I don't want a puppy-wuppy in my humble abode
In my humble abode in the sun
For a puppy's more unpleasant than a busted commode
In my humble abode in the sun
If you outlaw anything at all, there will be outlaws.
I thought I saw you for a moment, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't actually you.
Every piss is when you Pee.
What's with all the parking signs and meters that prohibit parking completely between 2a and 6a? For what reason? Does somebody actually enforce that stuff?
I heard my mother talking about curling someone's hair with a straightener. I thought, what? Shouldn't that require a curler?
I take comfort in the fact that, in this contemporary, hi-def world, drive-thru speakers are as crackly and primitive as they've ever been.
We humans love convenience. We'd much rather send our pets out in the cold rain than clean up our floors inside.
I need sex like there's no fucking tomorrow.
Feel like posting a status, but have nothing much to say just now.
Peace and love!
So, uh, happy Gregorian New Year, and enjoy!
It was a moment of intense, supernatural realization. The universe suddenly made sense. Armed with this newfound knowledge, I could take the whole bloody thing on, hand to void, and win. Ask the alarm clock. It took it.
Those graduate gowns are a wonderful shade of Cubbie Blue......
Toto...I've a feeling we're not on Campus anymore.
"Had you taken your antidepressants the day you committed the murder?"
"I honestly don't remember."
One of the few downsides of not having a mobile device is the inability to capture a photo or video of three people at the same table at a restaurant, all on their own mobile devices, completely silent.
On second thought, maybe that's all right.
Tabasco status. To spice up your news feed.
If pleasure is childish, I don't want to be an adult.
Have you noticed that we have "budding" geniuses but "bloomin'" idiots?
I'm too full of my own to take any of yours.
I could feel my brain ripping neatly in two. Although a sharp and abrupt sensation, it wasn't terribly painful. I knew that everything would be all right.
I was always rather self-absorbed. For years, I thought Lamaze was some kind of macramé-type artsy thing.
Some guitarists like to use picks; some prefer bare fingers. Different strokes, eh?
Great words in the English language: Awkward. It is as it says.
I tried hitting the Refresh button. It didn't work. I'm still groggy, high-strung and cranky.
The university's "spam digest" used to just leave me alone if I hadn't gotten any e-mails that qualified as spam that day. Now it sends me "0 new messages" e-mails.
"She used to be younger than you, but now she's your age." —my mom
I suppose that, as a Cubs fan, I should actually admire spammers and the like. Stayin' positive. Keepin' at it.
It's a nasty job, but someone's gotta do it. Or so we think.
"Smart as a whip". How is a whip smart? Does it drive the horses? Nothing with which we associate whips today connotes "smart". "Sadistically sexy as a whip", maybe. But not particularly smart.
I'm not always certain whether they're fruit flies or eye floaters.
Kvetch 22. You can't deal with something without complaining, but the complaining just makes the thing more difficult to deal with.
Life's simple pleasures: sucking the pimientos out of olives.
Things people say that bug me: "I'm just sayin'." To me, this implies that there's no thought behind the words. No substance. Just emptily sayin'. Just thought I ought to tell you.
Zombie mother to her children: "Eat your noodles!"
Hands-free phones: Allowing people who talk to themselves to not seem so crazy.
I saw a magazine cover that advertised "Ten style rules to break now!" Is it actually possible for style to be its own absence? Doesn't it render the whole thing meaningless? Maybe the new style is golf attire.
Why do we "write stuff down" but "type stuff up"?
I don't watch CSI or whichever show it is that he's on, but I figure Gary Sinise is a good actor by the fact that he seemed genuinely enthusiastic when performing the seventh inning stretch at the Cubs game.
"The Face Book" — the name of a book sitting on a table in the waiting area at the cosmetic surgeon's
Life's simple pleasures: Listening to the dogs crunch when I've given them croutons.
(Is it just me, or do all my "life's simple pleasures" involve food?)
A tiny spider
Roaming 'round the monitor
Trying to get down
I think the spiders are trying to tell me something by using me, at this position before the computer, to build their web from the ceiling.
You might be on Facebook a bit too much if, while driving someone else's car, a good while into the trip, you suddenly notice the little blue sticker in the bottom left of the windshield, and you think you got a notification.
I wonder if Lady Gaga is popular enough to get her own Google app. I'd enjoy hearing all the grown men and women talking about Google Gaga.
Watching my e-mail
For something personal that
Will kick my head in
Idle (or Idol) observation: Steven Tyler is appearing in drug rehab ads. He's also moved over the years from pioneering awesome rock to mainstream drek.
TV-MA-LSMFT
Who here "takes" lunch? I don't "take" lunch, but I will occasionally "have" lunch. The economy prevents me from "going out to" lunch often. Actually, I don't need to go out to it. I'm already there.
Life's little moments: Getting to your parents' empty house, using the house phone to call their cell, and hearing their cell ring in the next room.
You might be in a small town if it's late August, and the ballpark has a sign advertising an event for May 21.
You might be in a small town if you overhear someone say that it's okay if flies get in the house because it gives them something to do.
"Deal with it." There's an interesting turn of the English language. "That's the way it is. Deal with it." "Thank you, I will." POW!!! "There. I've dealt with it."
I gotta say, for all the praise I've heard about Paul Newman, he apparently never figured out the art of putting shaker tops on his dressings. (Yeah. I know. I'm a young'un.)
People I admire: a Gulliver's delivery guy with an "Official member of the Piss and Moan About Everything Club" T-shirt. "Welcome home", I told him.
We call it "playing" music even when we're dead serious about it. Although occasionally someone will "work" their guitar.
It seems smart, to me, to live east of the place you go during the day. That way, the sun isn't blinding you both ways.
Doing the dishes
Hoping that thereby I can
Feel a little warmth
"Let's make homemade 3D the next big thing." Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think there's already something very similar to this. It's called "life".
I, like many other Americans, suffer from an extreme and seldom diagnosed mental condition known as GAFDD, or Give a Fuck Deficit Disorder. Please copy and paste this to your status to raise awareness of this affliction. Or don't.
You ever ask a family member where they're going, and they say "out"? Don't you just want to punch them in the face?
You ever try to click "Cancel" for something on the computer, and the computer won't let you because it's too busy with the process you're trying to cancel?
You know how some people say "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all"? I say, fuck that shit!
The pepper-sprayer's name is Bologna? Man, you can't make this stuff up.
Where did the idea of calling one's children "Boo-boo" come from? "Boo-boo" in my mind refers to a scrape or similar injury — the result of an accident. Oh, wait.....
Is it "hipster" to dismiss hipsters as cliché?
"Divided by zero". Not divided. One. Thoughts like this are why I switched out of math/computer science.
A moccasin is a nice casual bit of footwear for indoor and light outdoor use. A water moccasin is a fanged, venomous creature of wilderness. How is this possible?
The serving spoon fell in.
It may perhaps be beneficial to folks to tell you this: I have very little sense of "cute". Puppies and babies do nothing for me, exactly one adult dog that I know of qualifies, and children only rarely qualify. Cats are more "majestic" than "cute", per se.
And I REALLY don't like referring to mixed-breed dogs with made-up combination words like shnoodle, chorkie, or whatever other god-awful concoctions I've heard. They're mutts! Mini, standard, and large, mutts!
I'm dog tired. Think I'll nap now.
It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World FTbigW
What starts with an F, ends with a K, and involves a lot of soul-crushing disappointment? (hint: the answer appears in the name of this blog post.)
"Those people on TV sound like you, Mommy!"
I don't think I've ever actually seen a prank "flag" gun in real life, but it seems to me, the flag ought to pop out in a way that the "victim" can see it, rather than rotated 90° like they're always portrayed.
"Word to the wise." Don't the wise already know the word? That's why they're wise. You don't need to give the word to the wise. The ignorant are the ones who could use it. "Word to the ignorant." That makes more sense to me.
Human animals: Pigs, road hogs, stupid cows, horses and bulldogs on the field, bunnies that aren't dogs, dirty rats, scaredy cats who are chicken, snakes in the grass, loan sharks. Sitting ducks for a poem or a song. Go get 'em, tiger!
The flower supplier for my cousin's wedding is called "Pollen"? Awesome! I can't wait to get my groceries at Artificial Preservatives!
The landing gear on my spacecraft is damaged. And the entire planet is hard land — no water. I'll have to remain in orbit indefinitely.
You ever bite into a Reese's for the first time in a long time and realize, after a couple seconds, that you're eating the redundant, inedible brown wrapper?
On this, the (pick your own integer)th day of Thanksgiving, I give thanks that I'm under absolutely no obligation to stay true to trends and can therefore skip days and indeed stop doing this altogether. Peace and love.
From the other room, the 60 Minutes ticking sounds like a parent making that "Naughty, naughty" sound. "Ntch ntch ntch ntch ntch ntch ntch ntch ntch.....bad TV viewer. You should know better."
Anal eyes
Analyze
Anal lies
(stares at this with hand on chin, pondering if it's worth anything)
It can hardly be a coincidence that there are three Ps in "puppy".
Dynamus
"Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there." Who here has someone they consider "a good neighbor"? Is a good neighbor merely one that leaves you alone? "Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there but will do nothing for you."
"Keep your eyes peeled." Do I even have to explain my puzzlement at how this one came about?
taking showers away from me
Considerate
Consider it
I keep my toiletries in a plastic bag from Reckless Records, which I keep in my bedroom. This way, they're not locked in a bathroom that someone else is using when I need to freshen up and leave in a rush.
Dinner just tastes so much better than supper, doesn't it?
Typist: One who discriminates against those who "aren't their type".
I wonder how much of my life I've spent drying stuff. My hands, dishes, clothes, the rest of my body. Seems like a lot sometimes.
If I ever have a child (ha ha), I think I'll name it "Fire".
With apologies to Tom Paxton:
I don't want a puppy-wuppy in my humble abode
In my humble abode in the sun
For a puppy's more unpleasant than a busted commode
In my humble abode in the sun
If you outlaw anything at all, there will be outlaws.
I thought I saw you for a moment, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't actually you.
Every piss is when you Pee.
What's with all the parking signs and meters that prohibit parking completely between 2a and 6a? For what reason? Does somebody actually enforce that stuff?
I heard my mother talking about curling someone's hair with a straightener. I thought, what? Shouldn't that require a curler?
I take comfort in the fact that, in this contemporary, hi-def world, drive-thru speakers are as crackly and primitive as they've ever been.
We humans love convenience. We'd much rather send our pets out in the cold rain than clean up our floors inside.
I need sex like there's no fucking tomorrow.
Feel like posting a status, but have nothing much to say just now.
Peace and love!
Thursday, October 20, 2011
A few people on Facebook mentioned on the eleventh that it was "National Coming Out Day". I couldn't help noticing that all the people who mentioned it.......are female.
But when you think about it, lesbianism makes sense. The female form, and the average female mind, are attractive. Who the hell's attracted to this lumpy, hairy shit? (gestures to own genitalia)
Of course, the phenomenon of gay guys remains unexplained by this.........but I will not deny them the right to be that way.
Equal rights for all.
Peace and love.
But when you think about it, lesbianism makes sense. The female form, and the average female mind, are attractive. Who the hell's attracted to this lumpy, hairy shit? (gestures to own genitalia)
Of course, the phenomenon of gay guys remains unexplained by this.........but I will not deny them the right to be that way.
Equal rights for all.
Peace and love.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Selections from Seven Months of a Second Facebook Account
(Some of these are slightly edited from the originals.)
Enjoy!
Someone in my family subscribes to a catalog called "Woman Within". Does this sound to anyone else like a service for transgender men?
You are what you ingest. My father's favorite type of tea happens to be called "Constant Comment".
The French word for "cat" sounds like the Persian word for "supreme ruler". Coincidence? I think not.
Nothing ever goes according to plan with me. This is probably because there is never a plan to which things can go according.
No wonder I thought the TV was on. Someone's playing a Morricone album in the other room.
I've always loved desserts. In kindergarten, we sang "My Country 'Tis of Thee", and I always thought the line was "...of the icing". What modern kindergartener knows from eighteenth century grammar?
IKEA products are not designed by engineers.
I tried clicking the Help button. It didn't work. I'm still a wreck.
(in response to some car company's holiday season TV ad claiming that "Nobody ever asked for a smaller gift") Not true. My mother got pretty mad when the dress we got her was too big.
Life's simple pleasures: Licking the bowl while baking.
Of all the things the university has stolen from me, I miss my mind the most.
Cheshire Adams walks into a bar. OW!, he grimaces, walking on, clutching his head in pain.
You rarely hear about male contortionists.
A cartoon caption in search of an illustration: Skeletons coming out of the closet
♪♫♪ One of these things is not like the others
One of these things belongs anyway ♪♫♪
(New Year's morning) This is it?
I got ten new compact discs this past holiday. Now I can spend many happy hours listening to other stuff while I try to get these bloody things open.
Our new smoke/carbon monoxide detector has a mute button.
This Facebook thing is great. If I poked people I weren't close with in real life, I'd probably land in a correctional facility.
If radio is going to play the Rare Earth version of "Get Ready", they should play all twenty minutes of it.
Well, I don't know. You think optimism might help?
To my knowledge, the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago is the only museum groovy enough to have its own built-in ice cream parlor.
Your overzealous advertising of your anti-spam product has backfired.
I GOT A BLACKBERRY!!!!!
.....and then I ate it. I was very hungry.
(a source that will remain unidentified to protect me, on Dr. King Day) "I don't give a fuck why we have a day off."
Lit match. Incensed. ☮
Either that, or the window needs to be cleaned. (Or both.)
nervous-compulsive at "work"
I suppose with a name like Winehouse, it was inevitable.
If the line between comedy and truth were any blurrier, it wouldn't exist at all.
I made this comment to someone and was immediately de-friended by that person.
Cold weather may be a pain at first, but you get numb to it after a while.
You might be a Chicagoan if you wear the same old sneakers in this kind of deep snow and think nothing of it.
It's not necessarily pro or con. It just is.
solace, not soulless
I looked up Mark Zuckerberg on here, just on a whim. Friending him isn't an option.
You know what they say.....therefore, there's no need for me to repeat it.
It is, in fact, something else entirely.
I'm so far out of the Loop, I cannot even be said to be in Elgin.
Words that sound weird when heard completely at random: Fallaciously.
Academic FAIL.
I may be a little hazy on my Greek and Latin word roots, but I believe "academics" comes from "aca", "up and/or forward", and "demic", "of the people". Up and/or forward to what, I wonder.....
Regarding spicy food: It is merely my personal opinion that food — that thing we depend upon for sustenance — should not be physically painful to eat.
I was always a bit self-absorbed. It took me years to figure out that the meaty bits of clam chowder weren't chicken.
I was always a bit self-absorbed. For years, I thought WD-40 was a tax form.
True stuff: I never finished kindergarten. I left a couple weeks early to visit distant (in more ways than one) family in Sarasota, Florida.
You know you've grown up when you have the pharmacy's phone number memorized.
Could be interpreted a couple different ways dept. : (my father, on being retired) "There's no more work days and off-days. They're all off-days."
I see where, at least until they're two, we refer to kids' age in months. How much longer can we do that before people start looking at us oddly?
To reflect my own youthful mind, I'll be turning 299 months in a little over a week! Yay! Cake for everybody!
BetSomewhereween
Me dear ol' mum on our family: "We put the 'fun' in 'dysfunctional'!"
Don't think with your brain full!
I wouldn't give my troubles to a Letterman fan on a rock!
I heard my alarm, turned it off, and proceeded to DREAM ABOUT getting up and going about my day like I was supposed to.
Lemon juice: A tool for discovering cuts on one's hand of which one was previously unaware.
The seventh inning stretch at Wrigley: Harry Karaoke. (It only took me a bit short of 25 years to realize this.)
N is for Non-sequitur.
I hope that the enemy comes in a form where they are inexplicably destroyed when two or more of them bearing the same color are hit with a replica of that form and color. We the masses will be fully prepared.
Mom: "Why does it have to be sports ALL THE TIME?!" Dad: "It doesn't! Just when they're on!"
The point is made
The tone is set.
If that's what you want,
That's what you'll get.
(on the Hitchhiker's Guide) Just the first two words alone are Far out.
looking for our glasses
My mother calls me into the other room to demonstrate my pronunciation of certain Hebrew and Yiddish words that feature that back-of-the-throat sound. She does this by saying: "Come in here! Let me see if you're Jewish!"
What does that sound like to you? I know what it sounds like to me......
I don't understand this fascination with putting things away. Things can't do any good if they're away.
Dark Star gazed out at the bizarre pattern of lights. Clearly there was something exciting and different out there, but was it real? Could it be reached at all?
She leapt down and made her way to the water bowl. That was one thing she knew she could rely on.
Room temperature water with bits of her own hair floating in it. But water nonetheless.
Ice cream knows no season.
I wonder how much of my life I've spent waiting for the "hot" water to get hot.
An only partially-working sign on a store in Bourbonnais one night: BUCKS COFFEE
Our suitcases all fit inside/around each other. Where does a company called American Tourister get off selling Russian suitcases?
Great moments in contemporary advertising: A close-up of the upper left of the Blue Screen of Death on one of those digital changing billboards overlooking the Jane Addams
Anyone else ever just lie there in the darkness with your eyes closed, gazing endlessly into the swirling green and purple before you? I'll bet that was the inspiration for the "Rock & Pop Swirl" flavor at Baskin Robbins.
Here's something I'd like explained to me: Illinois' alternate license plate design that prominently features mountains.
I am officially a full-fledged Facebooker. I wrote a status in the form of a cutesy letter to an entity that'll never perceive it.
You can take all the
Showers in the galaxy
And still not get clean.
Here's an obsolete word: Best. These days, it ought to be "Least bad".
I guess they're called "loaded questions" because we basically have to get loaded before we can try to answer them.
Idealistic
Unrealistic
Out of the mystic
Extra-simplistic
Masochistic?
Off-stylistic, anyway.
In Russia, song deletes YouTube!
Got air in my bicycle tires.
How's that? Nice, mainstream status update? Turn you folks on?
Enjoy!
Someone in my family subscribes to a catalog called "Woman Within". Does this sound to anyone else like a service for transgender men?
You are what you ingest. My father's favorite type of tea happens to be called "Constant Comment".
The French word for "cat" sounds like the Persian word for "supreme ruler". Coincidence? I think not.
Nothing ever goes according to plan with me. This is probably because there is never a plan to which things can go according.
No wonder I thought the TV was on. Someone's playing a Morricone album in the other room.
I've always loved desserts. In kindergarten, we sang "My Country 'Tis of Thee", and I always thought the line was "...of the icing". What modern kindergartener knows from eighteenth century grammar?
IKEA products are not designed by engineers.
I tried clicking the Help button. It didn't work. I'm still a wreck.
(in response to some car company's holiday season TV ad claiming that "Nobody ever asked for a smaller gift") Not true. My mother got pretty mad when the dress we got her was too big.
Life's simple pleasures: Licking the bowl while baking.
Of all the things the university has stolen from me, I miss my mind the most.
Cheshire Adams walks into a bar. OW!, he grimaces, walking on, clutching his head in pain.
You rarely hear about male contortionists.
A cartoon caption in search of an illustration: Skeletons coming out of the closet
♪♫♪ One of these things is not like the others
One of these things belongs anyway ♪♫♪
(New Year's morning) This is it?
I got ten new compact discs this past holiday. Now I can spend many happy hours listening to other stuff while I try to get these bloody things open.
Our new smoke/carbon monoxide detector has a mute button.
This Facebook thing is great. If I poked people I weren't close with in real life, I'd probably land in a correctional facility.
If radio is going to play the Rare Earth version of "Get Ready", they should play all twenty minutes of it.
Well, I don't know. You think optimism might help?
To my knowledge, the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago is the only museum groovy enough to have its own built-in ice cream parlor.
Your overzealous advertising of your anti-spam product has backfired.
I GOT A BLACKBERRY!!!!!
.....and then I ate it. I was very hungry.
(a source that will remain unidentified to protect me, on Dr. King Day) "I don't give a fuck why we have a day off."
Lit match. Incensed. ☮
Either that, or the window needs to be cleaned. (Or both.)
nervous-compulsive at "work"
I suppose with a name like Winehouse, it was inevitable.
If the line between comedy and truth were any blurrier, it wouldn't exist at all.
I made this comment to someone and was immediately de-friended by that person.
Cold weather may be a pain at first, but you get numb to it after a while.
You might be a Chicagoan if you wear the same old sneakers in this kind of deep snow and think nothing of it.
It's not necessarily pro or con. It just is.
solace, not soulless
I looked up Mark Zuckerberg on here, just on a whim. Friending him isn't an option.
You know what they say.....therefore, there's no need for me to repeat it.
It is, in fact, something else entirely.
I'm so far out of the Loop, I cannot even be said to be in Elgin.
Words that sound weird when heard completely at random: Fallaciously.
Academic FAIL.
I may be a little hazy on my Greek and Latin word roots, but I believe "academics" comes from "aca", "up and/or forward", and "demic", "of the people". Up and/or forward to what, I wonder.....
Regarding spicy food: It is merely my personal opinion that food — that thing we depend upon for sustenance — should not be physically painful to eat.
I was always a bit self-absorbed. It took me years to figure out that the meaty bits of clam chowder weren't chicken.
I was always a bit self-absorbed. For years, I thought WD-40 was a tax form.
True stuff: I never finished kindergarten. I left a couple weeks early to visit distant (in more ways than one) family in Sarasota, Florida.
You know you've grown up when you have the pharmacy's phone number memorized.
Could be interpreted a couple different ways dept. : (my father, on being retired) "There's no more work days and off-days. They're all off-days."
I see where, at least until they're two, we refer to kids' age in months. How much longer can we do that before people start looking at us oddly?
To reflect my own youthful mind, I'll be turning 299 months in a little over a week! Yay! Cake for everybody!
BetSomewhereween
Me dear ol' mum on our family: "We put the 'fun' in 'dysfunctional'!"
Don't think with your brain full!
I wouldn't give my troubles to a Letterman fan on a rock!
I heard my alarm, turned it off, and proceeded to DREAM ABOUT getting up and going about my day like I was supposed to.
Lemon juice: A tool for discovering cuts on one's hand of which one was previously unaware.
The seventh inning stretch at Wrigley: Harry Karaoke. (It only took me a bit short of 25 years to realize this.)
N is for Non-sequitur.
I hope that the enemy comes in a form where they are inexplicably destroyed when two or more of them bearing the same color are hit with a replica of that form and color. We the masses will be fully prepared.
Mom: "Why does it have to be sports ALL THE TIME?!" Dad: "It doesn't! Just when they're on!"
The point is made
The tone is set.
If that's what you want,
That's what you'll get.
(on the Hitchhiker's Guide) Just the first two words alone are Far out.
looking for our glasses
My mother calls me into the other room to demonstrate my pronunciation of certain Hebrew and Yiddish words that feature that back-of-the-throat sound. She does this by saying: "Come in here! Let me see if you're Jewish!"
What does that sound like to you? I know what it sounds like to me......
I don't understand this fascination with putting things away. Things can't do any good if they're away.
Dark Star gazed out at the bizarre pattern of lights. Clearly there was something exciting and different out there, but was it real? Could it be reached at all?
She leapt down and made her way to the water bowl. That was one thing she knew she could rely on.
Room temperature water with bits of her own hair floating in it. But water nonetheless.
Ice cream knows no season.
I wonder how much of my life I've spent waiting for the "hot" water to get hot.
An only partially-working sign on a store in Bourbonnais one night: BUCKS COFFEE
Our suitcases all fit inside/around each other. Where does a company called American Tourister get off selling Russian suitcases?
Great moments in contemporary advertising: A close-up of the upper left of the Blue Screen of Death on one of those digital changing billboards overlooking the Jane Addams
Anyone else ever just lie there in the darkness with your eyes closed, gazing endlessly into the swirling green and purple before you? I'll bet that was the inspiration for the "Rock & Pop Swirl" flavor at Baskin Robbins.
Here's something I'd like explained to me: Illinois' alternate license plate design that prominently features mountains.
I am officially a full-fledged Facebooker. I wrote a status in the form of a cutesy letter to an entity that'll never perceive it.
You can take all the
Showers in the galaxy
And still not get clean.
Here's an obsolete word: Best. These days, it ought to be "Least bad".
I guess they're called "loaded questions" because we basically have to get loaded before we can try to answer them.
Idealistic
Unrealistic
Out of the mystic
Extra-simplistic
Masochistic?
Off-stylistic, anyway.
In Russia, song deletes YouTube!
Got air in my bicycle tires.
How's that? Nice, mainstream status update? Turn you folks on?
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Right.
MLK Jr. Day Observed. I have no idea when his actual birthday is, but the man is nonetheless groovy. After all the civil rights activism, he spoke out about/against the Vietnam War and was criticized for it by civil rights supporters. Bizarre. Anyway, lovely that we have a day set aside to be thankful for equal opportunity, wholly independent of physical qualities, to wallow in the mire. C'est la vie.
*~*~*~*
Some of you may have noticed a decline in blog material of late. I sense it's connected to my mid-October signing on to Facebook. I actually have two accounts on Facebook — Cheshire Adams (who has actually been on Facebook rather longer, just not that actively), and then one under my real name. The latter was initially intended to get back in touch with people I used to know — old high school classmates, for instance (see Eruption Pending), 'cause they never heard of Cheshire Adams. If Cheshire Adams tells these people they know me, I'll probably be mass-blocked to the point of my account being axed by the man (or, more likely, the bot). But I got some three-hundred-forty-ish "friends" under my real name (apparently there's a fairly big difference between "Facebook friends" and actual friends), and so, since there's a pretty good sample of real people there — more varied than Cheshire's 48 friends — that account, in addition to being a reconnection tool, has kind of become my scratch paper — a launching pad for the sort of thoughts that would otherwise be posted here.
That said, I prefer to be polite on that account and stay away from the expletives. But in this increasingly frustrating world, I gotta let loose with those expletives someplace, and it would appear that this blog is the destination for my more explosive catharses.
That's right, Lucy in Cyberspace is gettin' artsy. So, since I have a couple short poems I wish to digitally scrawl down quickly, I'll put a bit of a warning somewhere near the top of this thing, and those of you who are turned off by this sort of material can catch up with me on Facebook. Or via e-mail. Or on the music fora through which you know me. And, those of you who don't know my real name: you can find it on the 'Book if you're clever.....
Well, another semester starts today.....joy.....
*~*~*~*
Mom, if you're reading this, Hi there! and, Some kind of social awakening has happened within me of late, and perhaps all of this explains everything. Now careful you don't get too nosy with the other account.
*~*~*~*
Some of you may have noticed a decline in blog material of late. I sense it's connected to my mid-October signing on to Facebook. I actually have two accounts on Facebook — Cheshire Adams (who has actually been on Facebook rather longer, just not that actively), and then one under my real name. The latter was initially intended to get back in touch with people I used to know — old high school classmates, for instance (see Eruption Pending), 'cause they never heard of Cheshire Adams. If Cheshire Adams tells these people they know me, I'll probably be mass-blocked to the point of my account being axed by the man (or, more likely, the bot). But I got some three-hundred-forty-ish "friends" under my real name (apparently there's a fairly big difference between "Facebook friends" and actual friends), and so, since there's a pretty good sample of real people there — more varied than Cheshire's 48 friends — that account, in addition to being a reconnection tool, has kind of become my scratch paper — a launching pad for the sort of thoughts that would otherwise be posted here.
That said, I prefer to be polite on that account and stay away from the expletives. But in this increasingly frustrating world, I gotta let loose with those expletives someplace, and it would appear that this blog is the destination for my more explosive catharses.
That's right, Lucy in Cyberspace is gettin' artsy. So, since I have a couple short poems I wish to digitally scrawl down quickly, I'll put a bit of a warning somewhere near the top of this thing, and those of you who are turned off by this sort of material can catch up with me on Facebook. Or via e-mail. Or on the music fora through which you know me. And, those of you who don't know my real name: you can find it on the 'Book if you're clever.....
Well, another semester starts today.....joy.....
*~*~*~*
Mom, if you're reading this, Hi there! and, Some kind of social awakening has happened within me of late, and perhaps all of this explains everything. Now careful you don't get too nosy with the other account.
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