Tuesday, April 28, 2009


How could Lady Godiva possibly have lasted long riding bare-back on a horse? In those days, women were pampered unless they were farmers' daughters or wenches of some kind - NOW a days women get a lot more work out of them regardless of their 'station' and the whole sore-ass factor is wildly prevalent. 

Of course, they were used to riding horseback in general those days, which probably had a lot to do with their muscle development and such... so it is possible that Godiva could still walk after such a trip. Hair flowing over her shoulders to brush the horse as they rode, careening over the landscape...

Not me though. I would like to lie down and sleep. 

And perhaps put some ice on my rear.

Monday, April 27, 2009


Classic Travel Scenarios: Chapter 1

Airports & Airplane Accommodation.

1.) Crying Children.
It will never fail, that somewhere on the airplane, while you are casually waiting on the tarmac for our turn to take off, a child will cry. And I don't mean silent sniffling or weeping into mommy's shoulder - I mean hysterical sobs. The kind of wrenching cries that rip the kid's throat sore and leave everyone in the surrounding vicinity deaf for the remainder of the flight.

More to come. You know. After I regain hearing in my left ear.


Thursday, April 23, 2009

How Little it Matters

This afternoon I ran some errands around town. Throughout the course of my errand-running, I decided to sift throught he ashes of a long-since-burnt out relationship, and see how I could better dismember and bury it.

(As it stood, the scent of it's decay would every so often pop onto my radar, and the thoughts that sometimes followed were less then pleasant.)

So, as I decided, I regarded a particular piece of ornament I received from the memory in question. I had loved it near as much as the giver, and the new thought, as the scent drifted into my nose, wasn't of sadness. Or well, it was a different kind of sadness. It was time to get it out of my living space for good.

So five minutes of sifting through the yellow pagtes procured me a suitable pawn-shop of a sort. Main street, hole in the wall, full of older men who like to flatter their patrons on a regular basis. I took it in, and they measured the weight of the gold and the diamonds, and gave me a price.

I accepted it, and went on my way, off to do the rest of my errands without pause.

But somewhere along the way I feel like I opened my eyes. I blinked, and everything was in full bright color, the details popping out like the very first time I wore my glasses when I was a kid - There was a hollow echo in my heart as I heard it beating behind my skin and muscle, and I thought about what I had just done.

I thought about everything leading to the gifting, the things past that point, the events strung together that were pulled and strained and broken and scattered over the past however long it's been. And I looked into my clenched hand, at the bills still there staring back at me.

I guess all my love was worth in the end was $5.00.


Friday, April 17, 2009


What exactly does the church have against Carnal Pleasures? Is it that we're indulging in ourselves, sharing our desires with others and NOT with God? Perhaps the church thinks that If you were to take a partner, you would be abandoning your God and therefore straying from the righteous path, hm?

I would much rather stray from the path and have an amazing time then stay on the path and lament my existance. I'm going to assume that it's safe to say that most of you agree. I'm going to also assume that most of you have indulged in carnal acts of pleasure - perhaps even recently - and enjoyed it, without thought at all to the eternal damnation of your soul. because frankly - I don't give a hoot about whose God think's I'm a sinner, or whose religion is going to condemn me.

My religion is freedom of feeling. Join the church of your heart. No fliers, no fees, and no donations necessary.


Thursday, April 16, 2009

Contemplations on a Thursday

Tonight is my night, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight I go to a place where I am free to move and speak as I wish, unbridled by social expectations, and free from work blazer and button up shirt! I can dance If I want to, and I can leave my friends behind!

Thats right. 80's Night has returned.

I will dress up like a spunky rock star, spray my hair full of product until it's spiked and deadly, I'll apply the make-up and the snug clothes, and I'll lace up my knee high boots like I'm about to kick ass, then I'll pick up my partners in crime and we'll paint the town red.

I've always wanted to do that.

I will be free tonight, and then back to work the next day with a smile on my face, and hidden behind my eyes are all the things I probably shouldn't have done, coupled with the things I've always wanted to do - and I won't be ashamed of any of them.



Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Tax Day

Ah, April 15th.

I wonder if you were remembered as anything GOOD in the past? Were you some sort of Pagan ritual? Maybe people danced around maypoles, or had banquets and clinked glasses in your honor. Who was born today? Were you host to geniuses and dullards alike? Fools and Knaves? Were you someone's anniversary? How many obituaries were published on your day?

Unfortunately, all of this seems slightly dwarfed by the absolute douche-baggery of Tax Day. The very last day to file your taxes. Without an extension under your belt, you have to post-date your return by NO LATER then 11:59pm! I wonder what goes through people's minds when they run their stuff to our office NOW. We'll have to file an extension, almost no doubt about it - but still they show up in droves with papers dated back in MARCH.


The futility of Humanity :p


Tuesday, April 14, 2009

The Hole

I was walking along, minding my own business when something astounding happened.
I missed my step, staggering in place a moment, as the thought took me over, wrapping me up in a Miasma of doubt.

'What does it matter?'

Daunting as the subject was, I managed to grab it by the neck and wrestle it to the ground. I was only relatively successful - and I escaped with more then my fair share of bruises and bumps of course - but I learned something. Let me explain.

What does it matter if we live?

What does our life hold that is so important, so urgent to hold onto? Is is Love? That fading, fleeting, most tempestuous of emotions? Is it the desire for Vengeance? Driving men to madness, women into frenzy, and their targets into panic? Friendship? Wealth? Power? Any of the above? All of them no matter how trivial, hold sway over our hearts and our actions without us even knowing it. We won't date this person because they smell, we won't hang out with this person because they're a drag. We won't see this movie because other people didn't like it....

So sure, pick one of those things to classify as your reason for getting up in the morning. But that wasn't the original problem, was it? The original question was a bit more intense.

What does it matter why we live? What is the point? What is the point of jotting down our deepest emotions so all can see - or even in private, or revealing our loves to be true, or admiting hatred? Why do we even bother to go through our routines, one day a mimicry of the last, and the next a mimicry of that. Why do we wake up, go to school, do what other people expect? When in the long run - we are all specks in an ever expanding universe filled with specks.

So what does it matter? I'll tell you. Every speck matters. Every speck makes up the full portrait of this thing called life. Take one speck away, and another speck will fall into place - but then another behind it will fall, and another behind that - and somewhere at the end of the chain - there are no more. And YOU, that one speck gone, made that chain reaction. You caused the others to fall behind you.

So hang in there, friend. I'm that speck right next to you holding your hand. I'm the speck with an arm around your shoulders when you cry and a tissue ready for you to blow your nose in.

Hang in there.