Okay! Okay! Oookay!!! I cannot get this shit off my mind! Them damn boxers is driiiv-viiig me Crazy!!!
First things first! That driiiv-viiing looks like some kind of foreign language!!!
Oh my God! You just got a REAL glimpse inside my noodle ( Remember that be mind. )
You see how I was trying to make a point, totally ready to give them Joe Boxer underwear hell! Then my mind sees this foreign word, quite possibly language from another world. Then I stopped dead in my mind and went the other way. Folks . . . this . . . be me!!! This is how my mind works! I don't know if it's scary, sad, or just an over active bladder? Oops! I meant to say over active imagination. I get scared sometimes, just thinkin', what I think! Yes, I can laugh at myself!! Life is so frickin' funny sometimes, you hafta just laugh, aint it?
I seen a couple funnies tonight at work, well . . . actually I see a lot of funnies at work. As a matter of a fact, the place is hilarious!
I seen this young man who appeared to be talkin' to himself. Then, I SAY, THEN I seen a hearing impaired young, man signing to himself! Yep, I seen it with my two good eyes. No, no, no! It wasn't me! I'm a hearing impaired old man, 'sides, I don't know how to sign, only one sign I know, and it 'er a good-un! I read lips, not fingers. Oh! Sometimes I read, no, really I can read. I can't write worth a shit, but I can read right, I just can't right write!!! Wurds can be soo confusing, ain't no wonder why foreigners can't speak the English language . . . as in American English. Shite . . . let foreign travelers that have lurned American style of English travel this here land.
I must be completely truthful to my few friends across this rock of a planet we call Urth. I'm from the southern part of my state. My dad's parents are from further south of my state, AND from the mountain part. My mother, I don't believe she has any southern mountainous, speaking impediments. Nope, she just poor country gal, and I'm proud to say, a good old country gal, she still is! I could write a book about my daddy's folk.
Maybe I'll give y'all, just a smidgen. Seems, a tad . . . not right, to call his folk hillbillies!
Well, let me, I mean write, a few things about their upbringing, and you decide, okey, dokey?
My grandmother married real young, and had three young-ins, when she met my step-grandpa. She was married, yes to both. A real hellcat, is how I heard her referred to in later years. Course, I be comin' in this actual picture when she be in her forties, ya see.
Well they lived off the land, no, not farmers, they didn't have enough land to be called farmers. They grew big gardens, which they canned for the winter. They raised pigs and chickens for meat and eggs. They were hunters and fishermen. No electricity, no indoor plumbing. My step-grandpappy did work at various jobs, lost one eye in a factory. He did like his bottle in his younger years and the stories he would tell about the concoctions he would drink back when it was illegal to sell alcohol.
Ooh . . . shit! I did not paint a very pretty picture of my daddy's side, did I? Well fact be a fact1 Don't bother me none, no how. It was another time during the great depression. People done what they had to do, too survive! It makes for many good laughs for a young Glenny, listening to the stories told by men with little educatin'. They'd catch fish, big ass catfish in the Ohio river. I have seen the pictures! They'd get drunk on shine and go coon hunting with their favorite dogs. My uncle spent time in prison, no, not bad people . . .stupid yes! My daddy spent time in reform school, causin. he hated school. He had a third grade education at the time he was hauled away the reform school. He got some schoolin' in him, there, like it or not! He talked about how he drove a wagon pulled by mules. He also told the story of one of them mules kicking him in the head, now I know, what his problem was.
I could go on and on and maybe I will if you would like to hear more?
NOW, BACK TO WHERE I STARTED IN THE BEGINNING, BEFORE MY MIND, GOT IN THE WAY!
The low breeches, showing shorts thing just frost my bells! Then it dawned upon me, underwear to these young Joe Boxer types of today, be mighty, important. I'm afraid to say it, and I could not help noticing, young men of today like showing off their colorful underwear. So now this commercial makes sense. No! Not to me, to the young, who like to show off their bright underwear. One young man had on superman underwear, I kid you not! I was ashamed for this dumbass! Anyhow, they seem to love showing off their high I. Q. underwear.
WHAT I BE GETTING AT HERE, IS THE COMMERCIAL IS AIMED AT THESE FINE YOUNG PEOPLE WHO LOVE TO SHOW OFF THEIR UNDERWEAR!
I DON'T LIKE IT, BUTT . . . AM FORCED TOO! I HAVE ACCEPTED THE LOW BREECHES, BUTT . . . IT IS WHEN THE SHORTS, DON'T COVER UP THE LOW BREECHES, WHEN THESE YOUNG ONES BEND OVER, AND I SEE THE CRACK OF THEIR ASS!!! THAT MY AMIGOS, HAS GOME TO FAR
(((( Once again I cannot believe where my mind taketh us! Better than reading or watching, all the murder, mayhem, destruction in Washington ain't it???? ))))) Glen
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Sunday, December 15, 2013
The Ringing Of The Bells, "Butt Wait,There's More!"
I feel the need to clear my head. I always have ideas while working, or when I'm not at my computer. Earlier while watching Americas Funniest Videos, my mind was turning fast during the commercials, jumping from one thought to another. (No, no, no! I wasn't paying any attention to the commercials!) Watching these videos, some silly, some cute, some funny relax me. My mind was in my style of meditation. We had just returned from checking out the sights of our yearly Christmas lights ride.
As I type this it is many hours later, I've told you this little tid-bit of information, while I attempt to recapture some of what, I thought was interesting, I wish to repeat some of that to you.
Relaxing in front of our Christmas tree watching television. A thought crosses my mind, a conversation we had at break time last night at work. They're talking about something, or the other, I'm not paying any attention, it's extremely hard to catch all the people talking because of my hearing loss, so I don't try.
Someone ask me, "Glen, did you see that K-Mart commercial on television?"
Glen answers, "huh?"
I talk right fancy at work you see! They know if they want my attention they have to address me, get my attention, you know. Otherwise, I be in my own little zone, or reading the paper. Not that I'm being snooty, I simply can't follow the damn conversation around the break room, my antenna ears can't tune it in.
"Did you see that K-Mart Joe Boxer commercials on television?"
Glen "nope"
Well, this young one sitting close to me, brings it up on her little cellphone-computer-thing-a-ma-gig.
"Here Glen!"
It starts out with about five well dressed men in suits sitting behind a table. So I'm expecting something, classy, you see. The next thing you know the table is pulled out, and their in their underwear wearing Santa hats, each holding a bell, you know them hand held bells that they ring at Christmas, come on people! Silver bells, Christmas! So their playing their bells, shaking their derrieres, buttocks, butts, asses while wearing Joe Boxer underwear. ( Not a pretty sight to me! )
So as you watch these men shaking their silver bells in one hand . . .their asses is a-shaking . . . . . you know what else men have, that goes from side to side, while the silver bell is making beautiful sounds of Christmas.
COME ON PEOPLE! Inside the bells there is a ball that strikes the sides, making the bell vibrate.
So . . . if the men shake their derrieres, that would cause movement on the front side! The balls and the???
(((( I gotsa think on this, some! Imagine one of them big church bells that The Hunchback Of Notre Dame pulling this big heavy stout rope and the big bell would flap side to side, inside was the gong striking the bell. So we have the outside of the bell, the gong the hits inside of it. Okay! okay! okay! This is getting confusing! Ohh! There is this long thing, the bell, be it, either the little bell, or the big church bell. So inside is a gong, hooked to a thing, hooked to the inside center at the top. Damn, I hate getting all technical on you butt, I'm trying to see! No, no, no! I don't want to see!!!!! The gong hooked with the thing, bangs against the bell, making the bell go, ding-dong. ))))
NOW CAN YOU IMAGINE THE SIGHT OF THE MEN IN THE COMMERCIAL WITH THE BELLS CHIMING, ALONG WITH THE MEN'S . . . SLAPPING SIDE TO SIDE.
OKAY! OKAY! OKAAAY!!! WHAT IN THE WORLD WAS GOING THROUGH THE IDEA MEN . . . WHILE THINKING UP SUCH A COMMERCIAL???
IT GOES FROM FUNNY TO VULGAR IN A FLASH!
I've seem many a Christmas commercials in my day. My favorite every year is the Budweiser Clydesdales. Makes me, wanna, go buy beer, and a, I don't do alcohol. They're just beautiful!
SOME WILL FIND THIS COMMERCIAL FUNNY, I HAVE NO DOUBT. AFTER ALL, THE COMMERCIAL TIS . . . ABOUT UNDERWEAR!
WILL THIS COMMERCIAL, SAVE THIS COMPANY FROM THE BRINK SELF-DESTRUCTION?
ADVERTISEMENT SEEMS TO ME TO BE ABOUT TRYING TO SCORE AN UPPER A KNOCKOUT COMMERCIAL, SO THAT THE PUBLIC WILL BE SO GLAZED OVER FROM THE PUNCH, AND BUY, BUY, BUY!
DID THIS COMPANY SCORE A KNOCKOUT PUNCH WITH THIS LAMELESS VULGAR ADD?
MAYBE TO THE ONES THEY'RE TRYING TO TARGET, KNOW WHAT BE THE TARGETED ONES?
LOW CLASS, I RECKON SUMS THAT UP!
THE BRAND NAME THEY PUT UPON THIS PRODUCT, I THOUGHT WAS LOW ENOUGH. I'M GLAD TO SEE THESE EDUCATED ONES ARE CAPABLE OF TARGETING THERE OWN TYPE!!!!!!!
Damn, I took too much time talking about underwear, I'll try to remember the other thoughts I had on my mind. AIN'T NO PLACE TO GO BUT UP!
THIS HAS BEEN GLEN'S VIEW, HERE ON GLENVIEW.
As I type this it is many hours later, I've told you this little tid-bit of information, while I attempt to recapture some of what, I thought was interesting, I wish to repeat some of that to you.
Relaxing in front of our Christmas tree watching television. A thought crosses my mind, a conversation we had at break time last night at work. They're talking about something, or the other, I'm not paying any attention, it's extremely hard to catch all the people talking because of my hearing loss, so I don't try.
Someone ask me, "Glen, did you see that K-Mart commercial on television?"
Glen answers, "huh?"
I talk right fancy at work you see! They know if they want my attention they have to address me, get my attention, you know. Otherwise, I be in my own little zone, or reading the paper. Not that I'm being snooty, I simply can't follow the damn conversation around the break room, my antenna ears can't tune it in.
"Did you see that K-Mart Joe Boxer commercials on television?"
Glen "nope"
Well, this young one sitting close to me, brings it up on her little cellphone-computer-thing-a-ma-gig.
"Here Glen!"
It starts out with about five well dressed men in suits sitting behind a table. So I'm expecting something, classy, you see. The next thing you know the table is pulled out, and their in their underwear wearing Santa hats, each holding a bell, you know them hand held bells that they ring at Christmas, come on people! Silver bells, Christmas! So their playing their bells, shaking their derrieres, buttocks, butts, asses while wearing Joe Boxer underwear. ( Not a pretty sight to me! )
So as you watch these men shaking their silver bells in one hand . . .their asses is a-shaking . . . . . you know what else men have, that goes from side to side, while the silver bell is making beautiful sounds of Christmas.
COME ON PEOPLE! Inside the bells there is a ball that strikes the sides, making the bell vibrate.
So . . . if the men shake their derrieres, that would cause movement on the front side! The balls and the???
(((( I gotsa think on this, some! Imagine one of them big church bells that The Hunchback Of Notre Dame pulling this big heavy stout rope and the big bell would flap side to side, inside was the gong striking the bell. So we have the outside of the bell, the gong the hits inside of it. Okay! okay! okay! This is getting confusing! Ohh! There is this long thing, the bell, be it, either the little bell, or the big church bell. So inside is a gong, hooked to a thing, hooked to the inside center at the top. Damn, I hate getting all technical on you butt, I'm trying to see! No, no, no! I don't want to see!!!!! The gong hooked with the thing, bangs against the bell, making the bell go, ding-dong. ))))
NOW CAN YOU IMAGINE THE SIGHT OF THE MEN IN THE COMMERCIAL WITH THE BELLS CHIMING, ALONG WITH THE MEN'S . . . SLAPPING SIDE TO SIDE.
OKAY! OKAY! OKAAAY!!! WHAT IN THE WORLD WAS GOING THROUGH THE IDEA MEN . . . WHILE THINKING UP SUCH A COMMERCIAL???
IT GOES FROM FUNNY TO VULGAR IN A FLASH!
I've seem many a Christmas commercials in my day. My favorite every year is the Budweiser Clydesdales. Makes me, wanna, go buy beer, and a, I don't do alcohol. They're just beautiful!
SOME WILL FIND THIS COMMERCIAL FUNNY, I HAVE NO DOUBT. AFTER ALL, THE COMMERCIAL TIS . . . ABOUT UNDERWEAR!
WILL THIS COMMERCIAL, SAVE THIS COMPANY FROM THE BRINK SELF-DESTRUCTION?
ADVERTISEMENT SEEMS TO ME TO BE ABOUT TRYING TO SCORE AN UPPER A KNOCKOUT COMMERCIAL, SO THAT THE PUBLIC WILL BE SO GLAZED OVER FROM THE PUNCH, AND BUY, BUY, BUY!
DID THIS COMPANY SCORE A KNOCKOUT PUNCH WITH THIS LAMELESS VULGAR ADD?
MAYBE TO THE ONES THEY'RE TRYING TO TARGET, KNOW WHAT BE THE TARGETED ONES?
LOW CLASS, I RECKON SUMS THAT UP!
THE BRAND NAME THEY PUT UPON THIS PRODUCT, I THOUGHT WAS LOW ENOUGH. I'M GLAD TO SEE THESE EDUCATED ONES ARE CAPABLE OF TARGETING THERE OWN TYPE!!!!!!!
Damn, I took too much time talking about underwear, I'll try to remember the other thoughts I had on my mind. AIN'T NO PLACE TO GO BUT UP!
THIS HAS BEEN GLEN'S VIEW, HERE ON GLENVIEW.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Standin', Like Never Before!
Learning to read, allows a young boy to escape into fantasy. Always, this lad, had a vivid imagination. Playing Cowboys and Indians was a favorite escape for young ones growing up in the 50's. Looking back at that time now, as a grown up with a lifetime of experiences, makes the old man shiver now. Well . . . the boy did not know any better. He was playing out childhood fantasies, mimicking what was popular at the time. The theaters show westerns, westerns on the televisions. Well the boy had no choice, as to what was on the televisions, the adults control that, since the child's family did not have a television until he was about twelve years old, mostly the only viewing of that relatively new invention was on Saturday night at Grandpa's. It's hard to understand to the generations growing up after me without television and all the other gizmos that have altered children's imaginationt. Good or bad, like the westerns portraying the white man and the thieving redskins, our mind's are forever shaped.
Saturday night was the big night of the week for Eddie, he got to spend time with grandpa, his true father figure. Sad, even now, to admit to that, but the truth is, the real truth! Grandpa Ralph never got excited, except' for rassling. A tall thin man, slightly bent from a lifetime of hard labor. He worked over 40 years for the Rail Road. On call 24 hours a day. Hard work meant nothin' back then, his hobby was planting a big garden for the family to can, he and I sold the extra. I was his star salesman. After all nobody could refuse a ten year old chubby cheeked young lad. We were close . . . I carry his name, Glen. I'm proud as a peacock, to mention that. He died when I was but 12, yet he's in my dreams, my thoughts, as it were, only yesterday. Good memories, never fade, they're cherished, shared with love, like watching a garden bloom. Life is hoping the bad thoughts will slowly, dissipate. Replaced with the still, love for life. In 1963 he went outside on a November night, trying to catch his breath, a lifetime of 62 years.
Back then, seems as though, every man smoked. ( The Marlboro man commercial, most likely, influenced the youth's of that era, ya, reckon? ) He rolled his own. Prince Albert in a can. I'd watch him carefully, take a single sheet of thin paper and place Prince Albert tobacco on it, then lick the end slightly, connecting the cigarette, using matches he'd strike on any surface. A young boy once, lovingly fascinated by the very act of watching grandpa build a cigarette was totally devastated in the wee hours of a cold November. I remember it, as I remember yesterday! ( Actually I remember it more, than yesterday! ) The very scene, clearly etched, into my mind, will never heal! Can't! Will not! Ever!
A child's mind, plays out, forever, those feelings, the thoughts of being that child, the actual, devastating, loving, unknown visualization, at that time, in their history. Lost, totally lost, in that moment, plays like a stuck needle, only forever, such as in the rut, of an old 45 rpm record. You move the needle carefully, yet returning to the same spot, the record stop again, and again, in the same damaged rut. Yes, how can it not? Time, really stops, stuck forever, in one groove, to be, never, forgotten.
Children are not capable of understanding the darkness of life. Their lollipops, rainbows, cartoons, puppy dogs, the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus all rolled into one, with love and pride, like grandpa's Prince Albert cigarettes.
The cigarettes that eventually kills grandpa is real, but . . . children DO NOT understand these things, and the consequences. Sadly, but with great love and tenderness, an old man ME, at almost the same age, grandpa died, fifty years ago, reminisce, fondly, and admit, I still miss him!!! You see that child that heard the message, "grandpa just died" as he lies crying, in his bed, still feels that moment. It will never perish, nor do I wish it to!
I learned first about death 5 years before this. Sissy's what I called her. A red head that I can only barely remember, playing with. Seems like we we're playing, the next thing I remember, they're rushing her in the "dead of night," to a children's hospital far, far, away. Never for me to be seen again, except for the viewing of her, in her small casket, at the funeral home. Children do not understand such matters, as death, funeral homes, burying!!! They know not what, questions to ask, there's nothing, in which to prepare them for such an event! Seven years old is about the learning of elementary school fundamentals. The essential tools of life, to be built upon. NOT ABOUT DEATH! What does the losing of a younger sister teach a child about? NOTHING! Not true! It teaches the cruelity . . . and absolute, foreverness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . the longing, the missing of a love one! To never be finalized, never to be understood, to carry that loss , , , that love . . . for eternity!!!
DAMN IT ALL TO HELLL! TO CARRY SUCH LOST, THROUGH ETERNITY MOLDS ONE . . . HAS TO!
WE ARE WHOM WE BECOME, BECAUSE OF!
WOULD I BE SOMEWHAT DIFFERENT IF?
SEEMS THE ANSWER WOULD BE "MOST ASSUREDLY!"
TO OF KNOWN THE LOVE AND THE GIVETH, EVEN FOR ONE MOMENT MORE! YES, I SAY!!!
THE HAUNTS I CARRY, IS OF THE LAST SHOT/MEMORY, FOREVER ETCHED INTO MY MIND, I CANNOT SHAKE AFTER HALF A CENTURY?
IT IS OF MY SISSY, A PICTURE TAKEN THE DAY BEFORE HER DEATH OF HER NEW RED SLIPPERS, THEN HER DARK OF THE NIGHT, DEATH RIDE IN OUR NEIGHBORS 55 BUICK. SISSY WAS BURIED WITH THOSE RED SLIPPERS.
AS FOR MY GRANDPA, HE SIMPLY WENT OUT ONE COLD NOVEMBER NIGHT TO NEVER CATCH HIS BREATH! THE DEATHLY GRIP OF NIGHT, COMETH, ONCE, MORE!
WHAT I PONDER UPON, ALMOST EXCESSIVELY, AS MY MOTHER'S ENDING DRAWS NEAR?????
HOW WILL I HANDLE THE BIGGEST INFLUENCE OF MY LIFE? I TEAR UP NOW, WHILE TYPING!
THE ONE, AND THE ONLY THING I KNOW IS LOVE FROM HER. I ONLY WISH TO THINK UPON HER THAY WAY!!!!!!!
FOR, TO CARRY THE LOVE OF THE LOST ONES IN OUR LIFE HAS FORMED US, GUIDED US, MADETH US, WHO, WE ARE. I LIKE TO THINK THEIR WITH US ALWAYS AND FOREVER. I KNOW THEY ARE!!!!!
I'M STILL STANDIN', LIKE NEVER, BEFORE!!!
Saturday night was the big night of the week for Eddie, he got to spend time with grandpa, his true father figure. Sad, even now, to admit to that, but the truth is, the real truth! Grandpa Ralph never got excited, except' for rassling. A tall thin man, slightly bent from a lifetime of hard labor. He worked over 40 years for the Rail Road. On call 24 hours a day. Hard work meant nothin' back then, his hobby was planting a big garden for the family to can, he and I sold the extra. I was his star salesman. After all nobody could refuse a ten year old chubby cheeked young lad. We were close . . . I carry his name, Glen. I'm proud as a peacock, to mention that. He died when I was but 12, yet he's in my dreams, my thoughts, as it were, only yesterday. Good memories, never fade, they're cherished, shared with love, like watching a garden bloom. Life is hoping the bad thoughts will slowly, dissipate. Replaced with the still, love for life. In 1963 he went outside on a November night, trying to catch his breath, a lifetime of 62 years.
Back then, seems as though, every man smoked. ( The Marlboro man commercial, most likely, influenced the youth's of that era, ya, reckon? ) He rolled his own. Prince Albert in a can. I'd watch him carefully, take a single sheet of thin paper and place Prince Albert tobacco on it, then lick the end slightly, connecting the cigarette, using matches he'd strike on any surface. A young boy once, lovingly fascinated by the very act of watching grandpa build a cigarette was totally devastated in the wee hours of a cold November. I remember it, as I remember yesterday! ( Actually I remember it more, than yesterday! ) The very scene, clearly etched, into my mind, will never heal! Can't! Will not! Ever!
A child's mind, plays out, forever, those feelings, the thoughts of being that child, the actual, devastating, loving, unknown visualization, at that time, in their history. Lost, totally lost, in that moment, plays like a stuck needle, only forever, such as in the rut, of an old 45 rpm record. You move the needle carefully, yet returning to the same spot, the record stop again, and again, in the same damaged rut. Yes, how can it not? Time, really stops, stuck forever, in one groove, to be, never, forgotten.
Children are not capable of understanding the darkness of life. Their lollipops, rainbows, cartoons, puppy dogs, the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus all rolled into one, with love and pride, like grandpa's Prince Albert cigarettes.
The cigarettes that eventually kills grandpa is real, but . . . children DO NOT understand these things, and the consequences. Sadly, but with great love and tenderness, an old man ME, at almost the same age, grandpa died, fifty years ago, reminisce, fondly, and admit, I still miss him!!! You see that child that heard the message, "grandpa just died" as he lies crying, in his bed, still feels that moment. It will never perish, nor do I wish it to!
I learned first about death 5 years before this. Sissy's what I called her. A red head that I can only barely remember, playing with. Seems like we we're playing, the next thing I remember, they're rushing her in the "dead of night," to a children's hospital far, far, away. Never for me to be seen again, except for the viewing of her, in her small casket, at the funeral home. Children do not understand such matters, as death, funeral homes, burying!!! They know not what, questions to ask, there's nothing, in which to prepare them for such an event! Seven years old is about the learning of elementary school fundamentals. The essential tools of life, to be built upon. NOT ABOUT DEATH! What does the losing of a younger sister teach a child about? NOTHING! Not true! It teaches the cruelity . . . and absolute, foreverness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . the longing, the missing of a love one! To never be finalized, never to be understood, to carry that loss , , , that love . . . for eternity!!!
DAMN IT ALL TO HELLL! TO CARRY SUCH LOST, THROUGH ETERNITY MOLDS ONE . . . HAS TO!
WE ARE WHOM WE BECOME, BECAUSE OF!
WOULD I BE SOMEWHAT DIFFERENT IF?
SEEMS THE ANSWER WOULD BE "MOST ASSUREDLY!"
TO OF KNOWN THE LOVE AND THE GIVETH, EVEN FOR ONE MOMENT MORE! YES, I SAY!!!
THE HAUNTS I CARRY, IS OF THE LAST SHOT/MEMORY, FOREVER ETCHED INTO MY MIND, I CANNOT SHAKE AFTER HALF A CENTURY?
IT IS OF MY SISSY, A PICTURE TAKEN THE DAY BEFORE HER DEATH OF HER NEW RED SLIPPERS, THEN HER DARK OF THE NIGHT, DEATH RIDE IN OUR NEIGHBORS 55 BUICK. SISSY WAS BURIED WITH THOSE RED SLIPPERS.
AS FOR MY GRANDPA, HE SIMPLY WENT OUT ONE COLD NOVEMBER NIGHT TO NEVER CATCH HIS BREATH! THE DEATHLY GRIP OF NIGHT, COMETH, ONCE, MORE!
WHAT I PONDER UPON, ALMOST EXCESSIVELY, AS MY MOTHER'S ENDING DRAWS NEAR?????
HOW WILL I HANDLE THE BIGGEST INFLUENCE OF MY LIFE? I TEAR UP NOW, WHILE TYPING!
THE ONE, AND THE ONLY THING I KNOW IS LOVE FROM HER. I ONLY WISH TO THINK UPON HER THAY WAY!!!!!!!
FOR, TO CARRY THE LOVE OF THE LOST ONES IN OUR LIFE HAS FORMED US, GUIDED US, MADETH US, WHO, WE ARE. I LIKE TO THINK THEIR WITH US ALWAYS AND FOREVER. I KNOW THEY ARE!!!!!
I'M STILL STANDIN', LIKE NEVER, BEFORE!!!
Friday, December 6, 2013
Does mg, stand for mighty good?
The weather here in my home state has been topsy-turvy, the last couple weeks. At 3 a m yesterday morning it was 65 degrees, it's now 28, just before Thanksgiving it was about 16 one night. It's going to be, brrr again an artic blast is blasting away at us at this very moment. ice changing over to snow as I get of work. Don't like it, no how!!! (Actually that's not true! I love to watch it snowing, whilst I wile away the hours, in my easy chair. ( Not sure where that last line came from? ) Looks like single digits in a few days. The early forecast I just checked on my Hewie Picardo, showed 2 degrees. ( Hewie Picardo is what I call my computer. Sometimes I call it much worse names! ) You know what I say to 2 degrees? BRRRRR!!!!!
( THAT BE A LOT COLDER THAN A WELL-DIGGER'S ASS!!! )
Didn't do nothin', over the past weekend. Me old back is still sore from the one helluva a night's work I did about 10 days ago. I be too f???ing old, to work like that anymore. My mind says, "you . . . can . . . do . . . it!!!" ( My mind's still willing, but damn it gets rougher and rougher! )
Two days after that dreadful night, I'm getting up from my chair been watching football, my back creaking, says," damn your're old, old man!"
Me and Ah Clem used to call each other "old man," as we both take a handful of advil, as we start work. You know them little pills do help for a short time!
I lie in bed Friday night, tryin' to get some rest, every joint in my body was hurtin', bad . . . even me finger joints, yep, I kid you not! When I finally drifted off into a slumber, resembling the last slumber, I slept for 12 hours, man oh man, no dreams, nor nothin'. Trouble was it took me till noon a sittin' corpse like in my lazy boy chair, before I could go to bed.
It be hell . . . getting old, but then I think of the consequences! Glen Bob not-ta ready to go there yet.
People that have seen the light, of the great beyond say, "it's so beautiful." Be my luck on the other side of the light, be . . . what I go through now, only more of the same-o, same-o, and there'd be Sam-o, the boss from hell!
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Okay . . . I just a don't get these energy drinks!!! I can bet a buzz on regular sugary drinks with caffeine. Twelve ounces are from 35 to 50 mg's. ( Does mg's stand for mighty good? ) I look on the of can of an energy drink, it has 140 mg's of caffeine. The name was Jolt, Charge Me, Let's bring him, back with the paddles! Something like that. ( Hell I can't remember! )
Let ol' Glen tell a little, true story about a man, 'bout 40 years of age, I used to work with. I'll call him, "Lightning. ) He were tall and skinny. I 've heard these skinny a ones referred to as "Slim Jim's. ( Think about it! )
This here ol' boy was a worker, yes he was! Trouble was though, he were a talker too! He would come to work drinking a can of Jolt. No big deal there right? Right, but he'd bring 3 more cans of that Devil brew, with him. He would start off the shift fine. Every break he would drink one of them lightning bolts from hell. You'd see his talkin', getting', different! He would voice his opinion more, and much stronger. His personality changed. Thinkin' somethin' and sayin' somethin' be two different things, you know! We all think things . . . we don't, say them things to others, especially bosses. do we? This ol' boy would say things to me, usin', that F word, shite, it be no big deal. That be common vocabulary in factories The worst offender of that F word was a woman I used to work with, actually I was her boss at that time. Her favorite sayin' was "here's a quarter go tell some one that gives a F@#$." Yeah . . . she told that to everybody!!! It was just her and used jokingly.
Okay back to Lightning. He becometh too f---ing vocal after several cans of caffeine in a can. At breaks he would go out walking around in the parking lot, yep! ( Does that tell you somethin' )
There's women working around him and some did not like it. No problem, he shouldn't be sayin' some of the stuff he were sayin' anyway. He went too far a couple times to a boss. This boss told her boss, and that boss and Lightning had it out in front of me one night, yeah . . . they did. Trouble was, what Lightning were a sayin', weren't, all wrong, it was the tone of voice, and how he went about it! I stay betwixt them as she and Lightning walk towards the door, after she fired him. He were outta control. but he was not going to hit her as long as I was there!
I work with a new person now, I reckon he's kinda my boss. We get along fine. He a workin' S, O, B. he'll work long days with only a couple smoke breaks, he's always busy. He has showed me a couple times this capsule he takes, calls it, "his dinner." I never thought much about it until I seen a package of these little pills, 4 of them, called stacker fat burner somethin' urr, the other. I look on the back and the main ingredient was caffeine, Yep! Guess how many mg's were in one of them capsules??? 250 of them! Cowa-bonga-dudes, and dudettes!!!
If I was to take one of them, me heart would jump outta me chest. It would be the death of me for sure. I reckon I knew about these caffeine pills because I have seen them by the cash register at convenient stores. I never read the back.
I AM NAIVE TO SUCH PRODUCTS, BUT AFTER THINKING UPON IT, THERE'S ALWAYS BEEN SUCH PRODUCTS, I SUPPOSE. I REMEMBER READING WHERE OVER 100 YEARS AGO YOU COULD ORDER COCAINE AND SYRINGES BY MAIL ORDER.
I suppose, I've wandered on enough for one night! Thanks for reading the last thoughts on my mind before I go to bed. Glen
( THAT BE A LOT COLDER THAN A WELL-DIGGER'S ASS!!! )
Didn't do nothin', over the past weekend. Me old back is still sore from the one helluva a night's work I did about 10 days ago. I be too f???ing old, to work like that anymore. My mind says, "you . . . can . . . do . . . it!!!" ( My mind's still willing, but damn it gets rougher and rougher! )
Two days after that dreadful night, I'm getting up from my chair been watching football, my back creaking, says," damn your're old, old man!"
Me and Ah Clem used to call each other "old man," as we both take a handful of advil, as we start work. You know them little pills do help for a short time!
I lie in bed Friday night, tryin' to get some rest, every joint in my body was hurtin', bad . . . even me finger joints, yep, I kid you not! When I finally drifted off into a slumber, resembling the last slumber, I slept for 12 hours, man oh man, no dreams, nor nothin'. Trouble was it took me till noon a sittin' corpse like in my lazy boy chair, before I could go to bed.
It be hell . . . getting old, but then I think of the consequences! Glen Bob not-ta ready to go there yet.
People that have seen the light, of the great beyond say, "it's so beautiful." Be my luck on the other side of the light, be . . . what I go through now, only more of the same-o, same-o, and there'd be Sam-o, the boss from hell!
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Okay . . . I just a don't get these energy drinks!!! I can bet a buzz on regular sugary drinks with caffeine. Twelve ounces are from 35 to 50 mg's. ( Does mg's stand for mighty good? ) I look on the of can of an energy drink, it has 140 mg's of caffeine. The name was Jolt, Charge Me, Let's bring him, back with the paddles! Something like that. ( Hell I can't remember! )
Let ol' Glen tell a little, true story about a man, 'bout 40 years of age, I used to work with. I'll call him, "Lightning. ) He were tall and skinny. I 've heard these skinny a ones referred to as "Slim Jim's. ( Think about it! )
This here ol' boy was a worker, yes he was! Trouble was though, he were a talker too! He would come to work drinking a can of Jolt. No big deal there right? Right, but he'd bring 3 more cans of that Devil brew, with him. He would start off the shift fine. Every break he would drink one of them lightning bolts from hell. You'd see his talkin', getting', different! He would voice his opinion more, and much stronger. His personality changed. Thinkin' somethin' and sayin' somethin' be two different things, you know! We all think things . . . we don't, say them things to others, especially bosses. do we? This ol' boy would say things to me, usin', that F word, shite, it be no big deal. That be common vocabulary in factories The worst offender of that F word was a woman I used to work with, actually I was her boss at that time. Her favorite sayin' was "here's a quarter go tell some one that gives a F@#$." Yeah . . . she told that to everybody!!! It was just her and used jokingly.
Okay back to Lightning. He becometh too f---ing vocal after several cans of caffeine in a can. At breaks he would go out walking around in the parking lot, yep! ( Does that tell you somethin' )
There's women working around him and some did not like it. No problem, he shouldn't be sayin' some of the stuff he were sayin' anyway. He went too far a couple times to a boss. This boss told her boss, and that boss and Lightning had it out in front of me one night, yeah . . . they did. Trouble was, what Lightning were a sayin', weren't, all wrong, it was the tone of voice, and how he went about it! I stay betwixt them as she and Lightning walk towards the door, after she fired him. He were outta control. but he was not going to hit her as long as I was there!
I work with a new person now, I reckon he's kinda my boss. We get along fine. He a workin' S, O, B. he'll work long days with only a couple smoke breaks, he's always busy. He has showed me a couple times this capsule he takes, calls it, "his dinner." I never thought much about it until I seen a package of these little pills, 4 of them, called stacker fat burner somethin' urr, the other. I look on the back and the main ingredient was caffeine, Yep! Guess how many mg's were in one of them capsules??? 250 of them! Cowa-bonga-dudes, and dudettes!!!
If I was to take one of them, me heart would jump outta me chest. It would be the death of me for sure. I reckon I knew about these caffeine pills because I have seen them by the cash register at convenient stores. I never read the back.
I AM NAIVE TO SUCH PRODUCTS, BUT AFTER THINKING UPON IT, THERE'S ALWAYS BEEN SUCH PRODUCTS, I SUPPOSE. I REMEMBER READING WHERE OVER 100 YEARS AGO YOU COULD ORDER COCAINE AND SYRINGES BY MAIL ORDER.
I suppose, I've wandered on enough for one night! Thanks for reading the last thoughts on my mind before I go to bed. Glen
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Buzzed Working!
I must say this first, "I HATE MONDAYS!"
"Why?" Y'all ask?
"Because it's MONDAY! What more do you need?"
Okay! I'll be more specific. What cometh before Monday? ( Put your thinkin' caps on! )
Monday thru Friday, ( Please use your imagination, if you're not on the NORMAL, schedule. ) When you wake up, you look at the clock, yer thinkin "drats! I got to go to work," 10 minutes later you hid the snooze button, again . . . again . . . until . . . you must jump outta bed and rush, off to work! You start your day off, hurry, hurry, hurry! You get to work right at the time to clock in, proceed directly to work, work, work. You're not awake and you most assuredly ainna in the best of moods after rushing. So you put on, your happy face! ( Yeah! Right! Anybody give me any shit, I'll drop them like a sack of taters! )
So you wake up on Saturday at your normal time. look at Mr. Clock think, "eww," then I say "THEN" you remember . . . iffin, yesterday was Friday . . . then, I say "THEN!"
SATURDAY! SATURDAY! IT'S, SAT-UR-DAY! YIPPEE! YIPPEE! YIPPEE! SMILING FROM EAR TO EAR, AND RETURN TO DREAMLAND.
After a couple days off, of, rest and relaxation, ( Well, when you get older like me. You hope your aches and pains quiet down enough to handle another week. You think I'm kiddin' don't you? ) Monday rolls around quicker every year, you think, "I'll call in today!" For a brief second or two, "yeah, yeah, that's what I'll do!" Then you drag your arthritis stricken body, outta, bed, thinkin', "why me Lord, what have I done to deserve, you know!" A hot shower and a handful of ibuprofen, will get me started, but still the relief doesn't come.
So . . . hi-ho, hi-ho, its off to work I go! Yeah right! You get to work without thinkin' go inside and start. You're not awake and if anyone says. "goood mornin'" ( After awhile they learn to not say anything until "bout noon! )
This Monday was a real bad one. I couldn't get going, my body was creaking, my mind was foggy, more than normal! To add insults to Monday, I had the shites! I said to myself, "shite, I'll just go home!" I done some pondering, while I sat on my thinkin' stool! Lights began a flashing! "I've not had any sweets, no sugary drinks all day Sunday, me body's in shock, deprived of the necessary life force that keeps me going. As soon as I could get me breeches up, and me hands washed, I bee-lined it to the break room. There waiting for me was M and M's. ( They're out of peanut ones, that's what I always eat, so I bought the regular and a 12 ounce can of my fav soda. )
I was a mite worried, I must drive the fork-lift, I ainna woke up, and me arthritis is a killin' me. Well I took the time to eat the M and M's, and gulp me soda. I got some sugar, choc-o-late AND 35 mg's of caffeine. ( That's nothing compared to this lightning bolt energy drinks they consume now! I look on a can that a young man drinks, where's I work it has 140 mg's of caffeine. "Lord have mercy!" This youngin comes in drinking one and carrying one with him! Yep! I would not lie to you! )
After a few times pondering on my favorite stool, and partaking of break room wonder vitamins. I was-sa approaching take off! By this time it was break time. I hadn't done much work so far, besides thinkin', wipin', and force feeding me-self, tryin' to come to life. This is why I hate Mondays!!! I be rested up, relaxed, mind clear and at peace, and then before you know it, comes the time to . . . you know.
Apparently the ibuprofen were watered down, "they don't seem to be working!" So I had another light bulb above my head. "I'mma gonna hit me-self one more time in the break room." Just like an alcoholic, taking a shot of whiskey and chasing it with a beer. Yep! I did!
Well . . . weren't long old man Glen were a workin' like a man of twenty once again. Wowza! I got plenty done the rest of the night and for awhile, I forgot about stiff joints and other shit!
"Why?" Y'all ask?
"Because it's MONDAY! What more do you need?"
Okay! I'll be more specific. What cometh before Monday? ( Put your thinkin' caps on! )
Monday thru Friday, ( Please use your imagination, if you're not on the NORMAL, schedule. ) When you wake up, you look at the clock, yer thinkin "drats! I got to go to work," 10 minutes later you hid the snooze button, again . . . again . . . until . . . you must jump outta bed and rush, off to work! You start your day off, hurry, hurry, hurry! You get to work right at the time to clock in, proceed directly to work, work, work. You're not awake and you most assuredly ainna in the best of moods after rushing. So you put on, your happy face! ( Yeah! Right! Anybody give me any shit, I'll drop them like a sack of taters! )
So you wake up on Saturday at your normal time. look at Mr. Clock think, "eww," then I say "THEN" you remember . . . iffin, yesterday was Friday . . . then, I say "THEN!"
SATURDAY! SATURDAY! IT'S, SAT-UR-DAY! YIPPEE! YIPPEE! YIPPEE! SMILING FROM EAR TO EAR, AND RETURN TO DREAMLAND.
After a couple days off, of, rest and relaxation, ( Well, when you get older like me. You hope your aches and pains quiet down enough to handle another week. You think I'm kiddin' don't you? ) Monday rolls around quicker every year, you think, "I'll call in today!" For a brief second or two, "yeah, yeah, that's what I'll do!" Then you drag your arthritis stricken body, outta, bed, thinkin', "why me Lord, what have I done to deserve, you know!" A hot shower and a handful of ibuprofen, will get me started, but still the relief doesn't come.
So . . . hi-ho, hi-ho, its off to work I go! Yeah right! You get to work without thinkin' go inside and start. You're not awake and if anyone says. "goood mornin'" ( After awhile they learn to not say anything until "bout noon! )
This Monday was a real bad one. I couldn't get going, my body was creaking, my mind was foggy, more than normal! To add insults to Monday, I had the shites! I said to myself, "shite, I'll just go home!" I done some pondering, while I sat on my thinkin' stool! Lights began a flashing! "I've not had any sweets, no sugary drinks all day Sunday, me body's in shock, deprived of the necessary life force that keeps me going. As soon as I could get me breeches up, and me hands washed, I bee-lined it to the break room. There waiting for me was M and M's. ( They're out of peanut ones, that's what I always eat, so I bought the regular and a 12 ounce can of my fav soda. )
I was a mite worried, I must drive the fork-lift, I ainna woke up, and me arthritis is a killin' me. Well I took the time to eat the M and M's, and gulp me soda. I got some sugar, choc-o-late AND 35 mg's of caffeine. ( That's nothing compared to this lightning bolt energy drinks they consume now! I look on a can that a young man drinks, where's I work it has 140 mg's of caffeine. "Lord have mercy!" This youngin comes in drinking one and carrying one with him! Yep! I would not lie to you! )
After a few times pondering on my favorite stool, and partaking of break room wonder vitamins. I was-sa approaching take off! By this time it was break time. I hadn't done much work so far, besides thinkin', wipin', and force feeding me-self, tryin' to come to life. This is why I hate Mondays!!! I be rested up, relaxed, mind clear and at peace, and then before you know it, comes the time to . . . you know.
Apparently the ibuprofen were watered down, "they don't seem to be working!" So I had another light bulb above my head. "I'mma gonna hit me-self one more time in the break room." Just like an alcoholic, taking a shot of whiskey and chasing it with a beer. Yep! I did!
Well . . . weren't long old man Glen were a workin' like a man of twenty once again. Wowza! I got plenty done the rest of the night and for awhile, I forgot about stiff joints and other shit!
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Drugs And Cellphones (oh no!!!)
Hello . . . there! Yep, it be me again. I got to be me . . . I got to be . . . Got off work at the normal time. I need some of my medicines renewed. We got us, a couple all night drug stores, so I head to one of them. I give the bottles to the lady druggist and go back in about a half hour. Pretty easy done, I listen to the radio for a spell, no big deal for me, there is a program I sometimes listen to late at night. In the beginning I thought this program was sensational. Different guests talking 'bout everything under the sun. I believe it open my eyes to a lot of subjects I would not hear anyplace else. Some of the guests were superb, some pure nutcases. That's what I liked about it.
After a while the program became the same O, same O. Once you've heard the same stuff over and over, it becomes somewhat boring!
Already, off track! Well . . . I have trouble understanding some people, even with my hearing aids looking directly at them, like over the counter at me drug store. I go inside while dropping them off in case you know, there's a problem. I do a speedy pay thing-a-ma-jig, just zoom that money out of my special drug and Doctor card. Usually they just ask me my address and I get me drugs and go. At the drug store out by me, they call me by name. (Oh shit! I don't know if that's good or bad!) But they're not one of them all night drug stores. I be a valued . . . drugee . . . to them. (Can I say that?) Sometimes I don't make it to them during regular drugee hours!
Well I go back to get me meds, the druggist tells me the price, ask my address. I be, pretty sharp at that moment and remembered my address. I always remember my address but sometimes I get my pin numbers mixed up, don't tell me you never do! Shit . . . we got to have code numbers, pin numbers, you know what I'm saying, I be tryin" to get diesel fuel for my work truck, a couple weeks ago, which I don't drive much anymore, dag gone it, I forgot the number. So I mosey on in, to that convenient store. It was very convenient at that time, sosa I walk in and spot me some peanut M and M's, and walk back to me truck. Damn! it only took about 5 of them protein enriched, sugary, chocolate, brain enriching, little do-dads, to get me mind a thinkin'.
Everything was going good, then . . . she plum, confused me. She started talkin' 'bout, I could call ahead and she would have the prescriptions ready, and so on, and so forth. (My hearing aids were overloading, me brain was being zapped!)
DAMN . . . I AINNA QUITE, A CAVEMAN. DAMN IT TO HELL! I'MMA THROWBACK TO YONDER YEARS. I DON'T WANT MY PHONE TO DO EVERYTHING FOR ME, BUT WIPE MY ASS!
Yes I have a cellphone . . . when I remember to take it! It's not a life altering event if I forget it!
I think that, take with you every where phones, are great, but . . . . . . . .!!!!!!!!!!
It seems to me, some people, are controlled by them! (Call me an old fogey if you want, but sheesh . . . shite . . . damn . . . !!!!
People can't work between breaks without sneaking a peekee, at their freekee, sell-man-a-phonees!
Now what could be so important that they can't wait? If there's an emergency . . . we still have land line phones at work, and someone is always close to it.
What are they doing that needs to be checked so often? One new hire of about 18 months ago had to check his Celly, every few minutes. It got so bad with the new ones the company had to ban use of them during work. Duh!
Once more, I ask, why do they need to check them so often? What is so earth shattering? The average text, surely can wait till break! As soon as break comes, their a digging fer them brain-zapping toys out, walkin', and a, textin'. It be hilarious watchin" them, runnin' them fingers across the letters.
IFFIN, I'D, A, WANNA SEND MY PRESCRIPTIONS IN, THRU THE DAMN PHONE . . . I WOULDA. I DON'T WANNA!
After a while the program became the same O, same O. Once you've heard the same stuff over and over, it becomes somewhat boring!
Already, off track! Well . . . I have trouble understanding some people, even with my hearing aids looking directly at them, like over the counter at me drug store. I go inside while dropping them off in case you know, there's a problem. I do a speedy pay thing-a-ma-jig, just zoom that money out of my special drug and Doctor card. Usually they just ask me my address and I get me drugs and go. At the drug store out by me, they call me by name. (Oh shit! I don't know if that's good or bad!) But they're not one of them all night drug stores. I be a valued . . . drugee . . . to them. (Can I say that?) Sometimes I don't make it to them during regular drugee hours!
Well I go back to get me meds, the druggist tells me the price, ask my address. I be, pretty sharp at that moment and remembered my address. I always remember my address but sometimes I get my pin numbers mixed up, don't tell me you never do! Shit . . . we got to have code numbers, pin numbers, you know what I'm saying, I be tryin" to get diesel fuel for my work truck, a couple weeks ago, which I don't drive much anymore, dag gone it, I forgot the number. So I mosey on in, to that convenient store. It was very convenient at that time, sosa I walk in and spot me some peanut M and M's, and walk back to me truck. Damn! it only took about 5 of them protein enriched, sugary, chocolate, brain enriching, little do-dads, to get me mind a thinkin'.
Everything was going good, then . . . she plum, confused me. She started talkin' 'bout, I could call ahead and she would have the prescriptions ready, and so on, and so forth. (My hearing aids were overloading, me brain was being zapped!)
DAMN . . . I AINNA QUITE, A CAVEMAN. DAMN IT TO HELL! I'MMA THROWBACK TO YONDER YEARS. I DON'T WANT MY PHONE TO DO EVERYTHING FOR ME, BUT WIPE MY ASS!
Yes I have a cellphone . . . when I remember to take it! It's not a life altering event if I forget it!
I think that, take with you every where phones, are great, but . . . . . . . .!!!!!!!!!!
It seems to me, some people, are controlled by them! (Call me an old fogey if you want, but sheesh . . . shite . . . damn . . . !!!!
People can't work between breaks without sneaking a peekee, at their freekee, sell-man-a-phonees!
Now what could be so important that they can't wait? If there's an emergency . . . we still have land line phones at work, and someone is always close to it.
What are they doing that needs to be checked so often? One new hire of about 18 months ago had to check his Celly, every few minutes. It got so bad with the new ones the company had to ban use of them during work. Duh!
Once more, I ask, why do they need to check them so often? What is so earth shattering? The average text, surely can wait till break! As soon as break comes, their a digging fer them brain-zapping toys out, walkin', and a, textin'. It be hilarious watchin" them, runnin' them fingers across the letters.
IFFIN, I'D, A, WANNA SEND MY PRESCRIPTIONS IN, THRU THE DAMN PHONE . . . I WOULDA. I DON'T WANNA!
Sunday, December 1, 2013
LET'S PLAY WORD GAMES
One of my favorite things to do, or rather, used to do, is play word games. This word has been on my mind for several days. Why? Hell . . . I don't know! That's just the way it is! There's not any control to this here noggin, (slang for mind) and a that's the way I like it. I only hope you do to?
You know, what I hate? Well . . . there be . . . MANY things! )
Those of you that have read some of my meandering shenanigans, probably know one or two, or twenty-nine!)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ALERT!!! Since I've been telling you about the weather in me neck of the heartland, I feels compelled, to tell ya, a heat wave has taken over. It's 34 degrees at 3 a. m. I have come to a much unorthodox conclusion, that after consumption of all the Thanksgiving dinners 'round here. That gas from the sometimes thankful end.. . .
(Come on pleeaassee . . . tell me you got that, I be fart-full as I type this post tonight.)
((Ahh! Ha! ha! ha! I be loaded for bear tonight. Only I be loaded with somethun. uther, than bear! It be hot air, gas!))
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"INSIDIOUS" (There's something about that word that's insidious!) HEY, YOU WANNA, HEAR
SOMETHIN SPOOKY? (I certainly do hope so, since I plan on typin' some more of my zaniness!) I must prepare you for either spookiness, or senility, as compared to Alzheimer, wisenheimer syndrome. There be somethun a mite strange, 'bout this whole . . . thing, besides the person, on this here keyboard!)
((You don't think me, a mite strange, do ya? Causin', I be the lessus, strange, purson, I come, into, contact with, in the corpse (Yes, yes, yes, it shoulda, coulda, been, COURSE of the day! Some a the ones I see, make a me, think zombies!!! so ya see, where I got corpse! Damn it! Can you not, follow me simple, simple-dumbass lingo?) I'm afraid you do . . . understand, what I'm a talkin', 'bout!!! Ain't I a delight sometimes, OR . . . a, just plum crazy? You make the call!!!
WE LACKEYS OF THE WORLD ARE GOING TO SURVIVE! ( Sorry that was a brain fart!)
I plum fergot, what the wurd wassa, I wassa, gonna, c-l-a-r-f-y, fer ya! Oh yeah! now I 'member, insider trading. No doesn't have quite the ring, to it. Although it does seem a-probably right!
Insidious . . . (I forgot to mention the ah-ooh, part. That means, weird! There was a place marked on my REAL, you remember books, don't you, only this book is called, Webster's New World Dictionary, Third College Edition. Must-a, screwed up the first two editions. ya reckon? Yep, just as I thought! It keeps being updated, re-copyrighted, 'cause there are many new printings, and there is one BIG THING that caught my eye. It explains why I can't write . . . right . . . ya know! This be the Webster's New World Dictionary Of, A-M-E-R-I-C-A-N . . . English.)
((Damn . . how I go on, sometimes! Good thing that everybody doesn't have a noggin like mine! I was gonna say, before me mind got in me way! Ya see, I can be thinkin', too many frickin' things, at the same time, and me fingers can't translate. Wow!!! That's the best excuse I've come up with yet!!! This ain't SOUL WRITING, it's CONFUSED WRITING!
(((Back to the ah-ooh, part. There's a marker in my Dick Dictionary on page 699, the 7'th word down is . . . "Insidious". Now, as you can see, I don'ta use me dictionary MUCH! I just looove to play with them. You've never noticed! """Well Bless Your Hearts!""" Gosh darn it! I ainna never gonna get this here friggin' post ready to post!!! Get this . . . my marker is a Band-Aid! I come prepared in case of a paper cut.)))
Let me try once more! INSIDIOUS. Characterize by treachery or slyness; wily, OR operating in a slow or not easily apparent manner; more dangerous than seems evident. [ad insidious disease] OKAY!!!
I do like that word "Wily" I'm going to look that up in my A-m-e-r-i-c-a-n English what-cha-ma-call-it thing a ma boob!!!!!!!
WILY means full of wiles???? Well what the fick is wiles? DAMN! damn! damn I've said it before and I'll say it again, "you look one figgin word up, and it gives you a variation of that word, now . . . you must look up another word. No wonder it's called A-m-e-r-i-c-a-n English!!!
Wile #1, a sly trick; deceitful artifice; stratagem.
#2, a beguiling or coquettish trick.
#3, craftiness; guile-- to beguile; lure-- trick--WILE AWAY, to while (time, etc); by CONFUSION WITH WHILE..... What the (((((@$%^ ))) is going on here??????????
You know, what I hate? Well . . . there be . . . MANY things! )
Those of you that have read some of my meandering shenanigans, probably know one or two, or twenty-nine!)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ALERT!!! Since I've been telling you about the weather in me neck of the heartland, I feels compelled, to tell ya, a heat wave has taken over. It's 34 degrees at 3 a. m. I have come to a much unorthodox conclusion, that after consumption of all the Thanksgiving dinners 'round here. That gas from the sometimes thankful end.. . .
(Come on pleeaassee . . . tell me you got that, I be fart-full as I type this post tonight.)
((Ahh! Ha! ha! ha! I be loaded for bear tonight. Only I be loaded with somethun. uther, than bear! It be hot air, gas!))
###################################################################
"INSIDIOUS" (There's something about that word that's insidious!) HEY, YOU WANNA, HEAR
SOMETHIN SPOOKY? (I certainly do hope so, since I plan on typin' some more of my zaniness!) I must prepare you for either spookiness, or senility, as compared to Alzheimer, wisenheimer syndrome. There be somethun a mite strange, 'bout this whole . . . thing, besides the person, on this here keyboard!)
((You don't think me, a mite strange, do ya? Causin', I be the lessus, strange, purson, I come, into, contact with, in the corpse (Yes, yes, yes, it shoulda, coulda, been, COURSE of the day! Some a the ones I see, make a me, think zombies!!! so ya see, where I got corpse! Damn it! Can you not, follow me simple, simple-dumbass lingo?) I'm afraid you do . . . understand, what I'm a talkin', 'bout!!! Ain't I a delight sometimes, OR . . . a, just plum crazy? You make the call!!!
WE LACKEYS OF THE WORLD ARE GOING TO SURVIVE! ( Sorry that was a brain fart!)
I plum fergot, what the wurd wassa, I wassa, gonna, c-l-a-r-f-y, fer ya! Oh yeah! now I 'member, insider trading. No doesn't have quite the ring, to it. Although it does seem a-probably right!
Insidious . . . (I forgot to mention the ah-ooh, part. That means, weird! There was a place marked on my REAL, you remember books, don't you, only this book is called, Webster's New World Dictionary, Third College Edition. Must-a, screwed up the first two editions. ya reckon? Yep, just as I thought! It keeps being updated, re-copyrighted, 'cause there are many new printings, and there is one BIG THING that caught my eye. It explains why I can't write . . . right . . . ya know! This be the Webster's New World Dictionary Of, A-M-E-R-I-C-A-N . . . English.)
((Damn . . how I go on, sometimes! Good thing that everybody doesn't have a noggin like mine! I was gonna say, before me mind got in me way! Ya see, I can be thinkin', too many frickin' things, at the same time, and me fingers can't translate. Wow!!! That's the best excuse I've come up with yet!!! This ain't SOUL WRITING, it's CONFUSED WRITING!
(((Back to the ah-ooh, part. There's a marker in my Dick Dictionary on page 699, the 7'th word down is . . . "Insidious". Now, as you can see, I don'ta use me dictionary MUCH! I just looove to play with them. You've never noticed! """Well Bless Your Hearts!""" Gosh darn it! I ainna never gonna get this here friggin' post ready to post!!! Get this . . . my marker is a Band-Aid! I come prepared in case of a paper cut.)))
Let me try once more! INSIDIOUS. Characterize by treachery or slyness; wily, OR operating in a slow or not easily apparent manner; more dangerous than seems evident. [ad insidious disease] OKAY!!!
I do like that word "Wily" I'm going to look that up in my A-m-e-r-i-c-a-n English what-cha-ma-call-it thing a ma boob!!!!!!!
WILY means full of wiles???? Well what the fick is wiles? DAMN! damn! damn I've said it before and I'll say it again, "you look one figgin word up, and it gives you a variation of that word, now . . . you must look up another word. No wonder it's called A-m-e-r-i-c-a-n English!!!
Wile #1, a sly trick; deceitful artifice; stratagem.
#2, a beguiling or coquettish trick.
#3, craftiness; guile-- to beguile; lure-- trick--WILE AWAY, to while (time, etc); by CONFUSION WITH WHILE..... What the (((((@$%^ ))) is going on here??????????
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