It’s Very Tricky

It’s a wonder women are able to deal with men at all. I’ve met some really sweet people at work of late. I’m pelting them like crazy, because I am, and am very smitten, the only reason I’m talking to them at all is because of that. Hardwiring. And I’m so grateful at how graceful they are. What a precious event it is that these 2 girls of late I’ve had my eyes on for a year, I’ve only just been able (the circumstances have yielded the bare minimum of excuses), to ask them things about themselves or life outstanding, and I feel so grateful that they’ve not turned me in to the authorities…so far…so good. They’re not all catty. Their souls are still good, it seems. And you sort of wonder, hope it’s not going to be true, your thoughts that, well, they’ve not had a lot of shit on them by life yet. In general, but so too, they’ve not had a lot of men doing bad, terrible, nasty things to them yet. You seem so wanting to say to yourself, in light of how sweet they are to strangers, and specifically so, to this crazy, bat-guano man.

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Why Do You Do What You Do

Do losers want winners to lose just because? Is that why they break and take others down? Is this why they try and whine and bitch and complain?

I can’t stand it when you lose!

It’s not, I “hate” it, or “detest” when I win. In fact, I’m a little nervous when things go my way a lot. I mean, when when we don’t have to think a lot about how we’re accomplishing deeds, when there’s not a constant, stop, start something else, do that, stop, go back to the other thing, diddle or fiddle or whack that a bit, stop, finish, move on…well, the normal order of the day, sometimes, in some circumstances, all throughout, why, that’s enough energy sucking out of a person’s being for a month sometimes. REALLY.

Being in the moment, unconscious of it, just doing, efficient effort, one thing after another getting done, it’s a heavy burden, sometimes. Personally, we wonder about another shoe dropping. SCARY!

HOWEVER, it is in fact wonderful. We are grateful. Scared, but appreciative. There’s this grace overall, it seems.

People say, nothing worth doing, is done sans effort. I call bullshit. My experience, I’ve had hell struggle and results are horrible. I hate and can’t stand. I’ve had ease of use ventures and have loved things as they go and as they turn out. So, I’ve had both. I’ve struggled long and hard and gotten what I needed or wanted and have appreciated the great out of that as well. I don’t agree with the statement, you only get good or great out of things you really have to fight in order to achieve or acquire. No. And it also occurs, I appreciate all manner of gratitude towards the states of being and things across the board I’ve acquired. That is things and stuff, states and presences, I appreciate, period. I know to. Hope always to. Hope I always know the difference and can appreciate them. Hope to realize more and more and always that, it’s the invisible that, intangible interaction, with LIFE, in whatever facet it presents, that is where the real or best of, reality exists, if it exists at all.

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Is There Anything…

What or maybe Why is it we see what Trump uses for writing his signature, when all hell breaks loose elsewhere? Prestidigitation or something less? Slowly Korea “mends”. For the time being. We’re told to look at Ireland. Space Ships are spotted there. Space ships aren’t spotted, they’re usually gray, saucer shaped, or maybe long, rough exterior, like a cheap cigar. What is going on? What is really the matter? Which is the main thing, and what’s with all this itchy skin rash stuff? Could it be we’re being bombarded by radiation? Too much cell tower cell phone use? Hmmm, could be.

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My Story

Oh to share. To share my story. Who wants to hear a tale? There’s this impetous to give everyone your plight? Your fright? Your funny? Your sad? Never heard of it. Even at work, someone asks how you are and really it’s just enough to say, hello, and I’m here. Then, sigh. 😉

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Well, they did it again. (It was 1992 last time they were there.) Washington Capitals can say, they own the cup. Well done, Alex. Retire now, from on top!

But seriously, folks. It occurred to me the other day from one of those, hash tag, heavily fwd-ed, "vital"? Emails…# pound sign. You know, they’re still on the phone keyboards. And they still say, dial pound two fifty, before saying, what ever. I SERIOUSLY DOUBT YOU WANT ME TO "pound" you as well.

Hit Somebody is a Hockey song. Shouted out by David Letterman, and sung by Warren Zevon. Are these guys in the movement as well? Hope not.

Maybe it will be the beginning of that "Kinder Gentler" nation or world that the Bush speech writers came up with as a vision.

Vision? First let’s get rid of the guns….Right.

Here, Here. Beat something into ploughshares and not people into submission.

But, keep in mind, what Germany of the late 20th century did as part parcel their campaign, cause, and slogan. They first got rid of the guns from the people.

Look what happened to them. They have the Richest woman in the world as their leader, next to rags to riches Miss Mississippi, Queen Oprah. She should fund Condoleezza Rice. But that is another story for a different blog.

Think before you go viral. Pound. It’s a note in the U.K., where they ditched the Union Jack for the red cross on white. Hmmm. Ok. Uhh. Dunno.

It seems the clams or lambs or sheeple are very willing in many respects, quite acquiesced to the Oligarchy here. Yes Ma’am Yes Ma’am. 3 bags full. From the old nursery rhyme. Baa Baa Black Sheep, Have You any Wool?, my NEW version, of course.

I’m going down the lane now, and give that ‘Master’ a piece of my mind.

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AT PRESENT cool jazz pops out hidden omnipresent speakers…just so. Perfect. One girl looks at herself in her mirror phone, you see this over her shoulder, her back to you. Her boyfriend opposite.

On your left a girl with pale jean jacket on a stool facing the windows outside to the blank walls of the no stores new mall across the way. On her back, left shoulder, a small, stitched black and white patch. In English it reads: "I AM BUSY!" and below that in the same bubble cartoon balloon: "CALL LATER".

Perfect, no? Yes. Indeed. Off to the side another girl has a fine striped white horizontal lined long sleeved close fitting top. It’s blue and white. Thin white lines between say 1/2" dark Navy blue lines. With me. 9 people on this beautiful overcast late afternoon in Buena Park, where we’ve all just hauled in a load of Skin Supplies from KPop moon scoop or something it said on the outside…but the receipt says Kpop. And, Aritaum, respectively.

1 more day left. It’s awful. All going to end after the day of [not after] tomorrow. I have the work week off today and tomorrow. The next 2 days after, my weekend, I still have off, but so what? How much can I do in 2 days? How much rest can a person get from what normally they have off? I’m going to have to do what I normally do then. It’s all about food prep lunch sack set, wash, gas up car, etc. And it’s to be done just so, or I’m not comfortable/ready. There’s not much time left to enjoy. I had to drive and map myself on unfamiliar streets getting here, and had to do a couple of turn arounds, and now here, almost home, I’m trying to relax. I did some earlier, even in the car, I was mindful enough to remind myself, enjoy, enjoy. Here’s this, there’s that. Places to go and try next time. Oh, I could…but no, I’ve bills to pay tomorrow, and that’s fine. It was fine then as well. All very good. No post cards written, but it’s okay too. It’s been PERFECT weather. Usually it would be sunny and super hot. And so, yeah, neither. Perfectly Comfortable. At ease. Now time perhaps to slide on down to the coast and look at your writing on the notebook. You can do that here as well. But…well, dunno. Maybe you should go, clean off your bathroom counter. Not have to have that which you won’t clean even on weekends off of work. Incidentally, June 1st is The First Date for Vacation submissions for December January next, or, upcoming, right? Right. Let’s get on the road again. Find some other way back first…don’t just Beach it, Highway 39….home. Look at something from a different perspective, eh?

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Pendulous Pedant Petals Penis Pendulum

See what I did there? Got it right out of the way, front and centre.

Boy, I figured it’d be done by now. But, nnnnnnoooooooooohhh!

How many more can it be?

We’re outnumbered, 8 to 1. What more do you require?

Or, what kind of hellish oligarchy move is it? You know, the “shooters” in control, of what “they” want you noticing, paying attention to, and being all bent out of shape about.

Shakespeare said, first let’s kill all the lawyers. This thing is a warlock hunt. Fine. Dandy. Great. We’ll give you Morgan Freeman too.

Really? Morgan Freeman? Aww, Mama. Can this really be the end? What the hell?

When, as they say, those who do, and, still, in public, thank goodness, some are still around, and able, and do indeed speak of, the pendulum, and of its swinging, eventually, into the “other” direction. Not pendulous things, hanging or drooping…those are for hanging off the back bumpers, I guess. But you know what I mean. Front and centre. Pay attention, petals, the penis or penumbra may have been reached. And Pandora’s box, may even get shut down. This not a warning. I don’t know a damn thing. And I am sure my closet, as full of empty shipping boxes as it is with bags and clothes, may indeed have a few ‘skeletons’, as they say. So I’m not really casting aspersions with intent to kill or even harm. I’m just indulging, (and probably foolishly on my part,) further voicing, on the idea, the “ides”, will come marching in again, and it may not be pretty. Ouch. Just saying.

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