A buddy commented that I haven’t blogged in a while. I’ve been posting comments on a few other blogs, but haven’t been pulled out of myself, haven’t needed to purge outward my inspirations. Creative writing is like a mosquito bite in reverse. Instead of being pricked with a troubling itch that you want to go away, you itch with a boiling urge to express novelty. I haven’t been itchy. When you aren’t horny, you don’t miss it. It hasn’t been occurring to me to blog.

But let me not waste tonights vodka on TV and sleep. Let me waste it on playing in this sandbox. A life well wasted is the aim.

I collect pictures as I browse the web each day, with the idea that some of them will have odd and inspiring and humorous connections to the theme of a blog post. Rarely to I search for the image to meet the post – I just look at the thumbnails of pics already downloaded and grab one that makes me smirk.

So as a spur, let’s do it backwards today. Some images to begin:

(The internet connection here is as slow as teenagers running from ghouls in a B grade horror movie.  It’s frustrating having my silly sentient impatience work at a speed faster than electrons and electromagnetic waves.)

It’s so good to belong.  It’s times like these when I know who my true friends are, and these bonds of responsibility to my family make me feel like I have a place in this wild, crazy world.  I could die for you guys.

I don’t understand those other people though.  Not only are they arrogant and misinformed (a bad combination!), but they can’t learn to respect their betters.  Sadly, it seems they will need to be taught a lesson.  Maybe permanently!


My poor GF is abandoned in the other room, wounded and wondering what she did wrong that I should want space of silence to organize my concentrations.  It seems no matter how many times I give her the high five, no matter how many times I slap her down when she assumes too much power over me, no matter how many times I refuse to play the “do I look fat” game, she still relies on me to bolster her

spine.  I suppose it should be endearing – it certainly is to my advantage.  Wish she’d just stand up and not be so emo all the time though.

I tend to antrhopomorphicate other humans.  Of course, I’m trying to empathize, wonder what I’d do in their paws, or what they would do in mine.  The problem with that is, some people are aligators, some are accountants, some are in the throes of overpowering emotion, and some are dead.  It takes more than knowing myself and empathy to know what to expect from others.

Don’t get all bug eyed on me.  I told you years ago.

Sometimes I like that emotionless wide eyed stare you put out.  As if you can see 10,000 facets of the situation.  I just doubt your little brain can process 10,000 different perspectives into anything resembling a human whole picture.  You’re all about quick reaction time. Flight at first recognized danger.  Simplest pattern recognition and multiple parallel processing.  Not a big picture girl.

I don’t see what your problem is with this picture.  Makes me wonder about your mood in the morning, or when you get randomly jostled.

People like you think you have to solve the worlds problems.  People like you never, ever, ever, ever ever ever learn to be happy first, as your prime priority, before you try to teach the world about how to be happy.

This ass is a Rorschach test.  Unless it makes you horny, you failed the test.  Anger is an F, indifference is a D.  Anything positive is above C.  Mixtures of positive emotions along with organized and reasoned understanding of them rise you up to deserving ass appreciator grand master status.

Another Rorschach test.  If you see anything political going on here, you have obsessive compulsive tendencies, and are way too focused on what your head tells you to focus on.

Well, now I’m too focused.  I’m not choosing my enemies wisely.  I’m shooting fish in a barrel.  I’m not choosing my peers.  I’m wasting breath on the irredeemable.  Those that cry all night want to cry all night.  It’s my mistake to not just move on and get on with it and laugh at them for wanting to cry.  That’s all an inside joke, but the point of it is, life is what you choose to make of it, so choose the silver linings as your habit, and you may find that when people smile back at you it means something more than sisterhood and righting past wrongs.

I resemble that remark, and you are flawed to think my sense of humor is askew.  It is you.  Boo hoo, yes, it is you.

Here you can see my male nature, my socially constructed desire to keep women playing with dollies.  I regularly meet with men to figure out ways to keep women interested in these all male produced magazines.

Which only goes to prove – women are more easily manipulated than their smarter overlords.

You’re a fine house-guest, but I’ll thank you to stop spilling yogurt on the couch.

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