In past lives, I’ve been accused of falling into “dark moods”. It wasn’t about the glass being half full, but more screaming out “who gave me such a big fucking glass?!?” What did people think I need such a big glass for? What the hell am I ’sposed to put in there? Someone will just come along and piss in it because that’s what people do… they get shit-faced and then need a place to piss and here will be my big fucking glass and they’ll say “hey, here’s a big glass that’s only half full… there’s plenty of room for me to piss in it… woohoo, my lucky night… I’ll take a piss and then get back to this party and score with that hot chick I’ve been hitting on!” and then what will I have? A big fucking glass full of piss and then I’ll have to smile about it… It’s not like I can complain cuz my glass is NO LONGER FUCKING HALF FULL! People will tell me, sure, it’s got piss in it, but it’s only HALF FULL OF PISS… look on the bright side! So, I’ll smile and not let on that someone pissed in my big fucking glass! Then I’ll just be this ass walking around with a big fucking glass full of piss slopping all over my hands with a stupid ass grin on my face while some other guy gets lucky with the sloppy drunk co-ed. SCREW ‘EM! TAKE YOUR GLASS AND YOUR PISS AND GO TO HELL!

um… heh… well… like I was saying… that was in past lives… I’ve moved on. Let the anger go, if you will. Fill my glass up, brother… it just keeps getting bigger! But, the point is, The Bloggess, my favorite blog authoress, passed on a tweet to everyone with the following song.  It reminded me of the good ole days of anger, depression, self-loathing, denial, frustration, hate, despair… um… yeah, the good ole days.  So, I wanted to share it with both all of you.  I leave you with this on a Friday, to top off your week.  Life could be worse, your attitude affects everyone around you, so grin that big dopey grin and try not to spill any piss on your hands!

Related posts

• Watch this video: great way to get that song out of your head
• The Bloggess… she’ll change your life
• writer zone

I’ve never liked snakes… As a kid, I’d run to the couch at night and jump on it with my feet curled under me. Those bastards would sneak off the ships down at Lake Superior, slither the mile or so through the streets and backyards to our apartment on the second floor of the house in the West End of Duluth and lay in wait for me.  They hung out in packs of mixed breeds, knowing instinctively that they could use their diverse abilities to more quickly take me down and then spend hours… days torturing me, eating bits of me to sustain them until finally killing me and having their full meal.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized how preposterous it all was.  Their plan was easily stopped by simply moving.  Snakes couldn’t read.  They’d never be able to track me.  As long as I stayed away from major ports, I’d be ok… and buy couches that were very close to the floor… and not leave my feet hanging over the side of the bed at night.

About 6 years ago, I was walking down the blacktop driveway that wound through the trees on the 4 acres we had.  Laying in the middle of the road was a 5ft long, huge, midnight black snake.  It just stared at me.  That’s when I knew I had grown complacent.  Several years and several states later, they found me.  Slowly, without taking my eyes off of this venomous beast, I picked up a handful of rocks from the side of the road.  It would be pointless in killing it.  They would know I was there and just send more.  My only hope was to get past it.  The first rock sailed over it’s body.  The second bounced wildly to the right.  The third thumped into it’s bulging middle.  The tip of the tail twitched and I let a quiet breath out.  The fourth repeated the thump and with an amused glance, it slide into the underbrush.  A quick sprint back to the house, check to make sure the kids and wife were locked inside safely, I jumped on the computer.  It was a black rat snake.  These bastards climb trees and drop on small animals in order to knock them unconscious and slowly ingest them.  We moved shortly after for completely unrelated reasons.

Now, this… WTF?!?

The Ajolote - one messed up snake

What kind of genetic experimentation have these snakes been up to?  I’ve greatly underestimated them.  They can have HANDS… That means locks won’t stop them… they can drive… hell, they can steal airplanes and pilot them.  I bet if a couple of these guys were in “Snakes on a Plane” it would have ended very differently.

And check this snake out… he’s not just sitting their like other snakes with that dumbass tongue darting out… he’s looking at you… he knows you are there… and he’s thinking… I’m going thru that camera and gonna crawl into your house and climb up onto your bed and just sit there resting my head on my hands staring at you when you sleep!

I’m WARNING YOU
they are evolving
they are smart
they are pissed off
they are coming for me and will be looking for you next…

Related posts

• What I don’t understand about politics…
• Octopusses… Octopi? Octopedal!
• writer zone

All morning, I had “Ebony and Ivory” (original, not SNL) in my head.  Nothing could get it out.  I even tried supplant it with “Islands in the Stream” but to no avail.  Then I ran into the following video.  I warn you, this is not for small children.

Edgar Oliver, the son of a recluse and a morphine addict, and his three cats… This guy may be the last of the old-school bohemians, but he disturbs me like no one has in a great while.  His mannerisms, enunciation, and the simple look in his eyes cause a real physical reaction in me that I can’t describe other than it’s not pleasant.  He’s from Georgia but lives in NYC-area.  Perhaps he’s brilliant, but if that’s brilliant, sign me up for the short-bus.

Related posts

• Upbeat Friday
• writer zone
• What I don’t understand about politics…

Ok, chrononauts, tomorrow I’m heading back 20 years… but as you all know, we don’t have the energy to actually send a physical time travel device backwards in time.  Forwards is easy.  It sits there and moves with the rest of us.  Moving it faster then normal time progression… well, that’s another story.

So, I’m sending my consciousness back.  Like most time travel, I’ll only be able to  catch glimpses of the past through memory recursion.  Of course, the entire procedure requires a large quantity of alcohol to stimulate the temporal-conscious-pathways.  History (ha, I know) has shown us that undertaking such a voyage is best conducted as close to the original geography of events as possible.  With that in mind, I’ll be transferring my equipment to West Fargo, North Dakota, USA for the next 3 days and surrounding myself with individuals involved with the earlier timeline.

Wish me luck and I’ll be seeing some of you several years ago.

Related posts

• writer zone
• What I don’t understand about politics…
• Watch this video: great way to get that song out of your head

In the beginning of August, I return to the Great White North to partake in my 20th high school reunion.  For the naysayers out there, Yes, I graduated high school and, Yes, I am that old.  It’s true.  In preparation, I crawled into the dark storage area of my house and pulled out yearbooks, a cheap photo album and stack of newspapers.  I didn’t realize it, but I was trying to rediscover who that person was 20 years ago.

So, here are the facts (I’ll post next on my reactions): (more…)

Related posts

• Sadness
• Career Milestones
• Because you didn’t ask for it… here’s my opinion