I can't think of anything funny. I'm not sure why. Maybe I'll just talk about the voices in my head. People will sometimes ask me where I come up with my strange ideas and I have to admit, I don't. The voices in my head do.
That might be why so many of my posts end up having dialogue in them. I talk to myself all day long, like some escaped mental patient. Arguing about decisions and wondering about things. I have to say there are times that I surprise myself with the things that I say. Is that weird? Does anyone else to this? Will you be reporting me to the local authorities?
"I think you should stop."
"You are scaring off the readers."
"Maybe you should just write a post like '20 things I learned as a crazed psychopathic'"
"That's a bit rude."
Or sometimes I'll just belittle myself...but only if I really deserve it. I can't say that I'm sure how I got to this point, where I thought this was an acceptable post, but there it is. Take it or leave it.
"You know I've been thinking about tan lines, car people and sneezing..."
There is a very real threat in my hometown. Turkey Gangs. Few who wander into the turf of these vicious thugs live to tell the tail. (Yes, that was a blatant poultry pun) When you look at the below photo the first thing you think might be, "Man you need to wash your windshield!" but after you get past the streaks and bug grime, you'll see the Gobblers.
The gang cornered me in a rather nice neighborhood about a month ago while I was driving around. I made a wrong turn and suddenly found myself in disputed territory. The Gobbler Gang swarmed my car and started mocking me.
"Get out of the car boy, and we'll see who gets the stuffing knocked out of them!"
"I got your Thanksgiving dinner right here son!"
"With a side of creamed coward!"
This one came right up the car and started looking for lot he could pillage. Luckily I had my wits about me, and started snapping photos. Otherwise no one was going to believe me! It was absurd! After I got a couple of click I needed to figure a way out of this without ruffling too many feathers. (And another one!)
"I have lots of dried corn scratch at home..."
"Honest! Let me go and I'll come back with some. Ok?"
"Sweet! Don't take too long now!"
"Yeah, we'll be waiting!"
Well the ruse worked like a charm. I even had one run along with my car for about a block or so to give me a nice Gobbler send off. It was a rather close shave, and I'm glad I didn't lose my head. Of course truth be told, they were all just a bunch of real turkeys!
What is it about tension that makes people bite their nails? I don't understand. It's not like it accomplishes anything at all, besides more discomfort. Freud has some theory on this, but personally I don't care. I'm sure anything Freud had to say would make me feel even worse about myself than any amount of nail biting would.
Lucky for me, I am a guy and no one really cares how my nails look. It's more that I just don't get it. I mean I don't start chewing at my elbow or gnawing on my knee whenever I'm on edge, so why attack the poor harmless nail?
It's not his fault I can't make something work. He didn't schedule three appointment at the same hour all in completely opposite directions. In the fact the only thing he did, was be useful. He's there when I need him for a can of soda, opening DVD cases or helping me wire cable.
Life with nub nails is a painful life at best. It's amazing how often you use them, and how sensitive skin can be after being shielded for so long by a nail. I now wince at every keystroke and jumped twice yesterday while trying to replace the double-a's in one of my child's toys.
It will do you well to recall this, next time you decide to take out your nervous energy out on something smaller and weaker than you. Because in the end what does the nail get for all his years of useful servitude? Pain and misery every time I get uncomfortable. So if you are ever feeling low and put upon, consider the hardworking, under appreciated, and overly abused fingernail. Life as a nail, really bites.
Or as an old co-worker of mine used to say 'Stuff & Junk & Stuff" Again, feel free to caption the below pics, or just enjoy and clickety click on the links.
They're going for the newly popular "antiqued' look.
And the latest craze to hit the street...I've had this shot in my file for months debating whether or not I should post it. Here it is, even though I still have no idea what it is he's thinking. Secondly are those all his and if not, who would willingly put their baby there?
Here we are, yet again, on the cusp of more knowledge that I'm sure I'm the only one sharing with you today. It has to do with something that has been bouncing around in my head for a number of years. At this point a fair amount of my readers, the ones who have been with me for a while, just signed off. For you poor unfortunate souls who remain, let me explain.
Whenever I start a post with, "bouncing around in my head for a number of years" this is a waring sign. It means you're about to get a major dose of nonsense. There are a good number of people who have had quite enough of my nonsense to last them a good many years. For the rest of you though, let me share with you my thoughts on gum folding.
I'm a gumer, a gumee, er...I mean, I gum. This was not always the case. For the last 3 years I've had a fake tooth attached to a retainer, and was unable to chew gum without taking it out. Since this was not an enjoyable experience for either the gum chewer (gumer) or the gum offerer(gumee)I mostly refrained.
Since I now have my new permanent tooth though, I am a very liberal gumling. I go gumming all over town now, just because I can. My only thing is this. What is the proper way to apply said stick of gum to your mouth?
"What!? Is that what this is all about? What are you talking about?! You just put it in."
"The whole piece?"
"Of course! Why not?! Why are you wasting my time with this gum eating stuff!"
"Aren't you concerned about choking, or how you look?"
"How you look putting gum in? No. Just shove it in there!"
"What about rabbit style. Do you ever 'rabbit' your gum?"
"You know nibble it a little as you insert it, so it's broken up my the time it's in."
"What about model mode?"
"Dare I ask..."
"In all the commercials you always see models folding it in. You know, they sort of catch the one end on the the front of their tongue and then fold the stick in half, smiling all the time. They seem so happy to chew gum. Do you think gum folding makes the gum taste better?"
"I'm not sure how..."
"I mean, you know, am I missing some euphoric gum experience by not folding my gum correctly? Like maybe, it releases certain flavors or something?"
"I try it every once in a while. Mostly though, I just mess up the landing point and instead of folding it, the gum slips back to my throat and I start to gag."
"Yeah, I know that can't be right. Anyway, I want to keep trying but I'm just not sure it's worth it. What do you think?"
Today is it, my last day. Today I have torn pants, a strong back, a happy life and a carefree outlook on life. Tomorrow I will awake and put on my big boy pants, pop an Advil or two and begin the bitter decline of life. It's over, times up. Tomorrow I'm turning 30!
I've been telling myself that I don't care.
"Whatever, it's just a number. It doesn't change anything."
"Sure it does. It means your going to start turning into your father."
"What?! Why would that bother me. Do you think I care about that?"
"Yes. Everyone does. Look, your hairs already graying..."
"I did notice that..."
"Have you started muttering to yourself?"
"Started? This isn't good. I still feel young."
"Don't worry about it, everyone gets older. Here's some simple signs: High Schoolers look like 12 year olds-"
"They call you 'sir' at the grocery store-"
"You start complain about the newest clothing styles-"
"I think I'm going to be sick."
I'm not sure what it is, but today I'm really not looking forward to 30. It's funny to, because I've really haven't even given much though until today. I've been telling everyone, "I really don't care." And until today, I really didn't. I mean I really like being in my twenties. I still feel young, even if I do have a mortgage, kids and a respectable job. I mean I can go and do something totally irresponsible and someone can just be like, "Oh well... he's still young."
Not after tomorrow. Tomorrow I have to be the responsible person I have been throughout most of my twenties. It's like being in the line to a really scary roller coaster and then trying to bail right before they send you off. There isn't anything you can do. Your already strapped down, it's happening and soon you will be cresting the hill and heading down. Scream all you want... it won't change the facts. Sooner or later you just have to realize it. Your old.
I think it might this idea of looking ahead. I've been looking ahead all my life.
16 - Then I'll get get to drive 18 - Then I'll get to vote (Trust me all young conservatives look forward to this day!) 21 - Then I'll really a full fledged adult! 22-29 - Get everything done I can because 30 is coming and life will soon end.
What am I look forward to now? Liver spots and memory loss? Oh, well...
Th stench of death lingers in the air. Hanging over my house like a dark shroud, striking down randomly and without any warning. It siphons off joy and prohibits any lengthy relationship from forming. I thought after the last time it ripped life from it's conquest I would be free of it for a while. It seems that was too much to hope for and now my heart is saddened once more.
The unknown killer took yet another DVD player from it's happy home. As with any DVD player that I dare to bring into my house, it didn't live a very long or terribly useful life. Apparently being purchased and brought into my house is like an electronics blackball. For one reason or another my house is as good as a bullet to any DVD player.
We have now lost 5 DVD players to the dark visitor. Four of those in the last year. The first one just stopped spinning up the discs, I guess it just got bored of it. Two started eating DVD's. I had to disassemble it completely to remove my MacGyver DVD, which looked like someone had given it a gravel bath. Three and now four just stopped turning on. Like they're pretending that no one's home. It's hard not to wonder if we either just have horrible luck, or we've made their conditions so miserable that these devices all have some sort of death wish.
Is the regular fair of Classics, Musicals, Sci-Fi, Retro Television and Children's videos just too much too handle?
"How much Star Trek and Calamity Jane do you people want to watch?"
"I don't know... Hang on, are you talking to me?"
"Yeah,. I'm sick of this! Do you have idea how many features I have? You have me hooked up with an ancient composite cable! Most of your movies don't even have subtitles! What's wrong with you two? Don't you ever watch anything made in the last five years!? Do you even have surround sound?"
"No. We don't really need it."
"I'm starving here people! I was expecting so much more! Action! Adventure! Comedy! You know...Like the pictures on the box! Did you even look at my box?!"
"I have the new Star Wars movie..."
"Whoa there, geek boy, you need to lay off the Science Fiction! How pasty can one person be?!"
"Hey! Look here, you'll play whatever I want, that's the way it works, cause I got the remote control and.."
"Oh yeah?! What if I don't want to anymore? Check this out...I quit!!"
And with a small power surge, a puff of smoke and the smell of burning electronics, another was snuffed from life. Maybe five will be my lucky number... probably not.