How sweet
How beautiful
How passionate
I want you now!
How generous
How patient
How forgiving
How warm
Please take me!
How charming
How open
How sexy
How coy
How accessible
I'm yours!
You are fear!
Friday, September 25, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
This Path Looks Safe, I Think
Do you ever talk to yourself; I mean really get into a fantastic Q & A, alone? Where do you do it most? Is it in the shower? Is it at work? Maybe it's at school? Perhaps you're a lunatic and it’s in a dark alley or a deserted field, that's ok, things have to get resolved, right? Do you do it while driving? That's my favorite. Maybe you've got a penchant for straight jackets so talking to yourself on a busy subway gets you going.
What a gift it is, to be able to free think, verbalize and hash things out, all on your own; to preside over a beautiful summation and its rebuttal, having never left your own head. Of course every positive in life has to have a negative to balance things out, right? That's not my law, I believe it belongs to Ishkabibble Van Dudenhoffer, or was it Shnootikus Blitzstein?
Anyway, so what is the balancing downside to tinkering with self cross examination? Well, one issue is, ‘over thinking’. I'll admit I’m way guilty of this one. You can give me potential plans for a Friday night and I can conjure up some serious full on night destroying ass-umption.
Take for instance a simple night out for me and the wife. Seriously, its funny how I can painfully pick out clothes to wear, wonder what they’re going to have to eat at the party, complain a bit about the directions, hate the company when we get there, not like any of the food or drink, probably get a stomach ache, certainly hate the music, listen to boring stories, feel guilty for wanting to leave early, start an argument on the way home, suffer through a bowl of cereal to thwart off empty stomach nausea, and then go to sleep in the hopes of not throwing up. All of this done before my wife has even finished telling me where we are going. Over thinking? I’d call it a classic case.
Now what's even scarier than over thinking is what I have found riding on its coat tails, that is, ‘over analyzing’. This monster gives finality to the former, making it twice as dangerous. I'm not guilty of this one too, am I? Well let’s just see.
If I was lucky enough to get a comment about this latest babble I'd probably picture you in my mind, imagine the face you were making while typing your criticisms, decrypt your choice of word structure, take into consideration our latest communication with one another (if any), check the current weather conditions in the Gaza strip, gather up all the thousand leggers in a four block radius, and finally, I’d conceptualize about why I had what I had for dinner that evening.
Then, and only then, could I formulate a less than stellar synopsis of the remarks contributed thereby drawing up the conclusion that you probably didn't think too much of my overly wordy self deprecating autobiographical composition. Nobody is perfect! So I analyze a little, its good for the soul.
Now as if the first two character flaws weren’t enough, there is another. I can't tell you the countless good times missed over the years to this third and most horrid characteristic. This one should probably be listed first though; I'm quite certain over thinking and over analyzing are the bastard children of this debilitating trait. I’m talking about ‘fear’.
Seriously though, what are we afraid of? Is it embarrassment? Is it pain? Might it be failure? Perhaps it's a small group of clergy who lock dance. I don’t know, maybe you are afraid of any and all of the clothing from the 80's. I know to this day I drop to the ground at the site of a knee length Champion sweatshirt and over sized socks.
What about Olympic curling? How about a Deli clerk with six hundred piercings from the neck up? Here's a frightful thought- being chased by six Haitian prostitutes with live chickens. That'll get you every time. Not to mention the large woman with a hair net, visible thong, and a 5 o'clock shadow who is piecing together your Taco Bell order with no gloves on and a scorching case of the ass itches.
Now For me, I’m usually afraid of embarrassment caused by failure. I get it honestly from both parents. My mother is extremely vain and I suffered many a grocery store woopens for embarrassing her. It’s funny though how her wreckin' my backside in public was never as embarrassing as me acting like a normal five year old that desperately needed a Zagnut bar to get through the rigors of the long day ahead. Shoot, I used to receive the leather strap every time dear ole mom couldn't get her ultra teased, hair sprayed, locks to behave properly.
Now there’s dad, he’s a different story. His insecurities are a little trickier and can go pretty deep. So at the risk of ending up on a couch, with a grocery store list of medication needed to function in my daily life, I’ll pass on the lengthy dissertation and simply tell you that he’s not from this planet.
Thinking back, growing up in my house really didn’t do much for my confidence. Therefore it kept me from taking part in activities that should have been allowed to aid in the shaping of the man-child who types before you this day.
Now don’t get me wrong, I love my parents dearly and I would never blame them for my short comings. I will say this though, they set me on a path that’s been more like a dirt road than a freshly paved thoroughfare; somewhat cobblestone-ish, if I’m being totally honest.
I understand that we all have our choices to make on the paths that lead us through life. It just so happens that my path has OVER THINKING, OVER ANALYZING and FEAR; a few stepping stones that may or may not have been laid by the devil himself; or perhaps his servants. (Tongue firmly placed against cheek)
What a gift it is, to be able to free think, verbalize and hash things out, all on your own; to preside over a beautiful summation and its rebuttal, having never left your own head. Of course every positive in life has to have a negative to balance things out, right? That's not my law, I believe it belongs to Ishkabibble Van Dudenhoffer, or was it Shnootikus Blitzstein?
Anyway, so what is the balancing downside to tinkering with self cross examination? Well, one issue is, ‘over thinking’. I'll admit I’m way guilty of this one. You can give me potential plans for a Friday night and I can conjure up some serious full on night destroying ass-umption.
Take for instance a simple night out for me and the wife. Seriously, its funny how I can painfully pick out clothes to wear, wonder what they’re going to have to eat at the party, complain a bit about the directions, hate the company when we get there, not like any of the food or drink, probably get a stomach ache, certainly hate the music, listen to boring stories, feel guilty for wanting to leave early, start an argument on the way home, suffer through a bowl of cereal to thwart off empty stomach nausea, and then go to sleep in the hopes of not throwing up. All of this done before my wife has even finished telling me where we are going. Over thinking? I’d call it a classic case.
Now what's even scarier than over thinking is what I have found riding on its coat tails, that is, ‘over analyzing’. This monster gives finality to the former, making it twice as dangerous. I'm not guilty of this one too, am I? Well let’s just see.
If I was lucky enough to get a comment about this latest babble I'd probably picture you in my mind, imagine the face you were making while typing your criticisms, decrypt your choice of word structure, take into consideration our latest communication with one another (if any), check the current weather conditions in the Gaza strip, gather up all the thousand leggers in a four block radius, and finally, I’d conceptualize about why I had what I had for dinner that evening.
Then, and only then, could I formulate a less than stellar synopsis of the remarks contributed thereby drawing up the conclusion that you probably didn't think too much of my overly wordy self deprecating autobiographical composition. Nobody is perfect! So I analyze a little, its good for the soul.
Now as if the first two character flaws weren’t enough, there is another. I can't tell you the countless good times missed over the years to this third and most horrid characteristic. This one should probably be listed first though; I'm quite certain over thinking and over analyzing are the bastard children of this debilitating trait. I’m talking about ‘fear’.
Seriously though, what are we afraid of? Is it embarrassment? Is it pain? Might it be failure? Perhaps it's a small group of clergy who lock dance. I don’t know, maybe you are afraid of any and all of the clothing from the 80's. I know to this day I drop to the ground at the site of a knee length Champion sweatshirt and over sized socks.
What about Olympic curling? How about a Deli clerk with six hundred piercings from the neck up? Here's a frightful thought- being chased by six Haitian prostitutes with live chickens. That'll get you every time. Not to mention the large woman with a hair net, visible thong, and a 5 o'clock shadow who is piecing together your Taco Bell order with no gloves on and a scorching case of the ass itches.
Now For me, I’m usually afraid of embarrassment caused by failure. I get it honestly from both parents. My mother is extremely vain and I suffered many a grocery store woopens for embarrassing her. It’s funny though how her wreckin' my backside in public was never as embarrassing as me acting like a normal five year old that desperately needed a Zagnut bar to get through the rigors of the long day ahead. Shoot, I used to receive the leather strap every time dear ole mom couldn't get her ultra teased, hair sprayed, locks to behave properly.
Now there’s dad, he’s a different story. His insecurities are a little trickier and can go pretty deep. So at the risk of ending up on a couch, with a grocery store list of medication needed to function in my daily life, I’ll pass on the lengthy dissertation and simply tell you that he’s not from this planet.
Thinking back, growing up in my house really didn’t do much for my confidence. Therefore it kept me from taking part in activities that should have been allowed to aid in the shaping of the man-child who types before you this day.
Now don’t get me wrong, I love my parents dearly and I would never blame them for my short comings. I will say this though, they set me on a path that’s been more like a dirt road than a freshly paved thoroughfare; somewhat cobblestone-ish, if I’m being totally honest.
I understand that we all have our choices to make on the paths that lead us through life. It just so happens that my path has OVER THINKING, OVER ANALYZING and FEAR; a few stepping stones that may or may not have been laid by the devil himself; or perhaps his servants. (Tongue firmly placed against cheek)
Saturday, September 12, 2009
The Enraged Crusader
Anger management, me? I hear that malarkey all the time but I'm not buyin'. Abusive thoughts maybe, I can accept that. Can I help it if when people do stupid things I'm called into action. I feel folks nowadays need a little discipline and mandatory reflection. A wake up call so to speak.
There is nothing wrong with a punishing stare every now and then; an imagined blast to the solar plexus is warranted from time to time; a visualized kick to the groin, knee to the chin, can be the all correcting, don't you think?
Now don't get me wrong I'm not one to glorify violent behavior but I am one who likes to see justice served, karma personified if you will. Lets face it, there are a lot of nimrods buzzing around out there who would not be concerned with others feelings.
Now, being one who likes to seek the positive in a situation, what I like to do when anger does present itself is to act introspectively. What I have found, in doing so, is a switch. It hides in that hostility that emerges from time to time. It really is amazing, amazing to catch yourself right at that moment when rage is born. If you pay close attention you can actually hear a click as that switch is being thrown.
You know that moment; when your larynx gives birth to an idiotic remark, nurtures it, grows it and sends it rolling off your tongue, usually in the direction of a loved one ; when the thought of inflicting pain makes sense ; when a dream of wielding a large blunt object quiets the voices ; when the illusion of tossing someone off an overpass seems logical ; when the idea of purchasing stabbing weapons makes you giggle maniacally. Anyway, you know the moment. We all share it on some level. Some of us just act on it with stronger emotions and with less control.
Let me give an example of my ramblings. Recently I was heading into a CVS and I did something you only read about in books nowadays, I held the door for someone. Big mistake! This arrogant chic strolled right past me with not so much as a head nod of gratitude. Now I don't normally fish for graciousness but COME ON! The kicker was that she continued to make auditory love to her cell phone at volumes unnecessary.
Mercury began rising! I HEARD THE CLICK! What are my options here? Do I forgive? Do I forget? Do I destroy? My processor started flickerin' and clickin' and what I came up with was a low resonating growl accompanied by a, YOU'RE WELCOME! "Oh aaaaa, thank you?" She said. She was surprised, can you believe it? Now I had to follow the unappreciative heathen into the store. It was all I could do not to gather this chick by the belt and collar and launch her head first into the Entenmann's display. Is that wrong? Am I out of line in my thinking?
How about when I let someone into my lane on the highway and they don't show me my thank you wave. Should I not visualize dropping the hammer and ramming them in an attempt to induce a sixty-five mile an hour cartwheel? No you say? Is gnawing ferociously on the steering wheel while doing my best Tickle me Elmo impersonation a bit much? How about wanting to reenact the disembowelment scene from Braveheart on a texting tailgater; is that a little incessant? Next you're gonna tell me that following someone into their neighborhood after they've cut me off is a bad thing. Is it? Lets not even talk about food shoppers who are unnecessarily nasty to cashier clerks. These pompous assholes deserve to be strapped to a shopping cart and sent hurling form the nearest rocky cliff only to plunge some thousand feet down to a fiery pit below. That would be ok, right?
Alright, enough of that........deep breath. What I'm figuring out, when I can silence the terror from within, is that people are generally not very friendly these days and could use a little jolt of reality. (The Deliverer, why not be me!) Besides, this self indulgent egotistical preoccupation with one's gadgets, wealth, and appearance is winning out over genuine concern for one another's well being and its scary. I ask you.......Do I need anger management??? Ok, maybe just a class or two.
A few years ago a progressive chick worked with me and she once said "people are becoming so self involved it's frightening, I'm going to get away from it all soon and my girlfriend and I are going to live in a yurt out west." I didn't think much of it then cuz she was always talking whacked stuff about people and the environment and the end of it all, but a light went on later that day, WHAT THE FUCK IS A YURT???!!! With much thanks to Google I found out It's a "portable, felt-covered, wood lattice-framed dwelling structure traditionally used by nomads in the steppes of Central Asia." Ok! That's gonna go over well three months deep into a harsh winter.
Anyway, that's what I thought then, but now I'm starting to think she might have been right. Just think, getting away from all the mindless gadgetry and the impersonal soullessness that walks the streets today, sounds great?
Nah,my powers are needed here. There are lots of wrong doers out there who need my ever guiding scowl of animosity and my punitive imagination to inject new life into their thoughtless souls. All I need now is a uniform, a commissioner, a signal light and a good lawyer, for I have always been and will always be an admirable councilor of cultivated behavior. Anger management?...........Heh!
There is nothing wrong with a punishing stare every now and then; an imagined blast to the solar plexus is warranted from time to time; a visualized kick to the groin, knee to the chin, can be the all correcting, don't you think?
Now don't get me wrong I'm not one to glorify violent behavior but I am one who likes to see justice served, karma personified if you will. Lets face it, there are a lot of nimrods buzzing around out there who would not be concerned with others feelings.
Now, being one who likes to seek the positive in a situation, what I like to do when anger does present itself is to act introspectively. What I have found, in doing so, is a switch. It hides in that hostility that emerges from time to time. It really is amazing, amazing to catch yourself right at that moment when rage is born. If you pay close attention you can actually hear a click as that switch is being thrown.
You know that moment; when your larynx gives birth to an idiotic remark, nurtures it, grows it and sends it rolling off your tongue, usually in the direction of a loved one ; when the thought of inflicting pain makes sense ; when a dream of wielding a large blunt object quiets the voices ; when the illusion of tossing someone off an overpass seems logical ; when the idea of purchasing stabbing weapons makes you giggle maniacally. Anyway, you know the moment. We all share it on some level. Some of us just act on it with stronger emotions and with less control.
Let me give an example of my ramblings. Recently I was heading into a CVS and I did something you only read about in books nowadays, I held the door for someone. Big mistake! This arrogant chic strolled right past me with not so much as a head nod of gratitude. Now I don't normally fish for graciousness but COME ON! The kicker was that she continued to make auditory love to her cell phone at volumes unnecessary.
Mercury began rising! I HEARD THE CLICK! What are my options here? Do I forgive? Do I forget? Do I destroy? My processor started flickerin' and clickin' and what I came up with was a low resonating growl accompanied by a, YOU'RE WELCOME! "Oh aaaaa, thank you?" She said. She was surprised, can you believe it? Now I had to follow the unappreciative heathen into the store. It was all I could do not to gather this chick by the belt and collar and launch her head first into the Entenmann's display. Is that wrong? Am I out of line in my thinking?
How about when I let someone into my lane on the highway and they don't show me my thank you wave. Should I not visualize dropping the hammer and ramming them in an attempt to induce a sixty-five mile an hour cartwheel? No you say? Is gnawing ferociously on the steering wheel while doing my best Tickle me Elmo impersonation a bit much? How about wanting to reenact the disembowelment scene from Braveheart on a texting tailgater; is that a little incessant? Next you're gonna tell me that following someone into their neighborhood after they've cut me off is a bad thing. Is it? Lets not even talk about food shoppers who are unnecessarily nasty to cashier clerks. These pompous assholes deserve to be strapped to a shopping cart and sent hurling form the nearest rocky cliff only to plunge some thousand feet down to a fiery pit below. That would be ok, right?
Alright, enough of that........deep breath. What I'm figuring out, when I can silence the terror from within, is that people are generally not very friendly these days and could use a little jolt of reality. (The Deliverer, why not be me!) Besides, this self indulgent egotistical preoccupation with one's gadgets, wealth, and appearance is winning out over genuine concern for one another's well being and its scary. I ask you.......Do I need anger management??? Ok, maybe just a class or two.
A few years ago a progressive chick worked with me and she once said "people are becoming so self involved it's frightening, I'm going to get away from it all soon and my girlfriend and I are going to live in a yurt out west." I didn't think much of it then cuz she was always talking whacked stuff about people and the environment and the end of it all, but a light went on later that day, WHAT THE FUCK IS A YURT???!!! With much thanks to Google I found out It's a "portable, felt-covered, wood lattice-framed dwelling structure traditionally used by nomads in the steppes of Central Asia." Ok! That's gonna go over well three months deep into a harsh winter.
Anyway, that's what I thought then, but now I'm starting to think she might have been right. Just think, getting away from all the mindless gadgetry and the impersonal soullessness that walks the streets today, sounds great?
Nah,my powers are needed here. There are lots of wrong doers out there who need my ever guiding scowl of animosity and my punitive imagination to inject new life into their thoughtless souls. All I need now is a uniform, a commissioner, a signal light and a good lawyer, for I have always been and will always be an admirable councilor of cultivated behavior. Anger management?...........Heh!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
The low road
I was smack dab in the middle of typing, what I thought was a great idea for an entry, when it hit me; A message from, well, me! It said "ITS TIME TO TAKE A BREAK FROM THE OVERLY DESCRIPTIVE, INNUENDOED, METAPHORICALLY SELF INDULGENT, LONG WINDED USUAL STUFF YOU'VE BEEN DIVING INTO UP UNTIL THIS POINT AND VENTURE DOWN A DIFFERENT PATH."
So after having my work impugned by myself, in classic schizophrenic fashion, I thought about it for a while. What I came up with was simple; I'll put together a list of things, a gathering of thought fragments if you will; a compilation of stuff that genuinely makes me laugh and pisses me off, sprinkled with things that quite frankly, CREEP ME OUT! This list is neither plot driven nor dream induced. If I offend in the process, I'm sorry in advance. It is as follows:
-Any gross word that sounds exactly like what it
does, is or is intended for:
Salve, Ooze, ointment, puss, pustule, mucus,
flem, curd,moist, enema, secretion, shanker,
smegma, sphincter
-Ego laden vanity liscence plates that I don't
understand
-People with horrific feet who wear sandals
-A nun with her thong showing
-Dry ear flakes
-Those who think their Pit Bull is not vicious
until it coughs up the remains of their
ninety-eight year old grandmother......And
her power chair
-An extremely hot chick with three rows of teeth
-Really ugly infants
-The parents of really ugly infants
-Overly hairy fat guys on the beach with an
explosion of ass hair bursting from the
speedo
-Having to sneeze with a mouth full of rice
-A couple of senior citizens square dancing
with assless pants
-Someone who talks to me with that little bit
of flem stuck in the back of their throat making
them sound like a deaf munchkin.......And they
keep going
-A librarian with a pocket knife and a limp
-Ventriloquists
-An ice cream truck that also sells sex toys
-The missing links who shop at Walmart
-Colin Farrell's stardom
-Jerks who yell at me with their car window up
-A prostitute with an eye patch
-The awkward position I'm forced to get into
when trying to reach the back row of the
prepared food bar and the sneeze guard is
cutting off the blood flow to my head
-Women who carry a machete
-A lifeguard wearing a turban
-A church choir made up entirely of Guatemalan
transsexuals
-Really old folks violently making love
-A person who is telling me a story who realizes
its going nowhere and bails abruptly. Usually
it's accompanied by an implosion of self
confidence made noticeable by the spill out of
word fragments and punctuated with an "Ahhh, you
had to be there"
-Two thirty on a Christmas afternoon
-Guys who wear their necklace on the outside
of the black turtleneck
-Pubic hair in my egg salad
-Pubic hair in any salad
-Pantyhose
-When I'm standing up bent over and my foot
gets caught in the underwear instead of going
through the underwear leg hole and I'm sent
hurling towards the floor
-Magnum sized condoms
-Having poop cramps while in the shower
-People driving with the heat cranking,
windows up and convertible top down
-The unidentifiable turd knot found in the
center of a won ton noodle
-A 400 pound waitress who smells like cheese
-The guy who cranks the music for all of us
to hear at the red light.
-Midgets in porn
-Videos of Pole vaulting accidents
-Pole vaulting all together
-An orgy in a nursing home
So after having my work impugned by myself, in classic schizophrenic fashion, I thought about it for a while. What I came up with was simple; I'll put together a list of things, a gathering of thought fragments if you will; a compilation of stuff that genuinely makes me laugh and pisses me off, sprinkled with things that quite frankly, CREEP ME OUT! This list is neither plot driven nor dream induced. If I offend in the process, I'm sorry in advance. It is as follows:
-Any gross word that sounds exactly like what it
does, is or is intended for:
Salve, Ooze, ointment, puss, pustule, mucus,
flem, curd,moist, enema, secretion, shanker,
smegma, sphincter
-Ego laden vanity liscence plates that I don't
understand
-People with horrific feet who wear sandals
-A nun with her thong showing
-Dry ear flakes
-Those who think their Pit Bull is not vicious
until it coughs up the remains of their
ninety-eight year old grandmother......And
her power chair
-An extremely hot chick with three rows of teeth
-Really ugly infants
-The parents of really ugly infants
-Overly hairy fat guys on the beach with an
explosion of ass hair bursting from the
speedo
-Having to sneeze with a mouth full of rice
-A couple of senior citizens square dancing
with assless pants
-Someone who talks to me with that little bit
of flem stuck in the back of their throat making
them sound like a deaf munchkin.......And they
keep going
-A librarian with a pocket knife and a limp
-Ventriloquists
-An ice cream truck that also sells sex toys
-The missing links who shop at Walmart
-Colin Farrell's stardom
-Jerks who yell at me with their car window up
-A prostitute with an eye patch
-The awkward position I'm forced to get into
when trying to reach the back row of the
prepared food bar and the sneeze guard is
cutting off the blood flow to my head
-Women who carry a machete
-A lifeguard wearing a turban
-A church choir made up entirely of Guatemalan
transsexuals
-Really old folks violently making love
-A person who is telling me a story who realizes
its going nowhere and bails abruptly. Usually
it's accompanied by an implosion of self
confidence made noticeable by the spill out of
word fragments and punctuated with an "Ahhh, you
had to be there"
-Two thirty on a Christmas afternoon
-Guys who wear their necklace on the outside
of the black turtleneck
-Pubic hair in my egg salad
-Pubic hair in any salad
-Pantyhose
-When I'm standing up bent over and my foot
gets caught in the underwear instead of going
through the underwear leg hole and I'm sent
hurling towards the floor
-Magnum sized condoms
-Having poop cramps while in the shower
-People driving with the heat cranking,
windows up and convertible top down
-The unidentifiable turd knot found in the
center of a won ton noodle
-A 400 pound waitress who smells like cheese
-The guy who cranks the music for all of us
to hear at the red light.
-Midgets in porn
-Videos of Pole vaulting accidents
-Pole vaulting all together
-An orgy in a nursing home
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