Turns out this thing on my desk is a com – put – er and the other thing with the funny shapes and book learnin’ numbers is a key – board, the purpose of this key – board is such that when I  hit the letter squares in certain patterns ( a very complicated dance of index fingers) it makes the letters show up on the screen of the com – put – er.

Like Magic.

But, as was famously mentioned time and again in Harry Potter ” There’s no such thing as Magic”

BUT, how can a movie based on an entire world, based on nothing but Magic, claim outright that there is no such thing as magic? It’s this very sisyphean logic, a sort of riddle that closes in on itself, a paradox turning inward faster and faster until it accidentally opens a wormhole and creates a rip in the fabric of time… it’s this logic, that has allowed me to step through – surf the ages and punch old women who are rude and/or bothersome to me in the present, in the past… when they were younger and didn’t eat just toast and tea and could take a proper punch.

Their calcium negative bones waiting for the opportunity to snap like a thin piece of balsa wood at the slightest provocation. It’s hardly a fair fight. I once broke my mothers arm with a particularly vigorous eye blink.

I have enormous lashes and granted I have mastered the art of batting them, but the real strength comes from a strenuous regime of  exercise, eating right and the horse steroid trenbolone, shot directly into my eye lids. You can’t really tell and for all intents and purposes they look quite normal, but can bench an impressive125 pounds and they have enormously thick veins running through them.

Then I simply climb back through the time tear and viola, mischief managed.

As I was saying, I have nothing against old women but it’s their aggression, the unchecked granny rage running rampant in the streets that scares me the most,

Where do they get off… I’ll tell you where it’s a little place I like to call “good night Irene” it’s right at the corner of my left jab and my vicious upper cut.

Here, before I finish let me tell you a quick story about grannies who based solely on their age think they can get away with bloody murder…. we’re at the supermarket and I’m standing in front of some bananas looking for just the right bunch, when this old tart comes flying in and tries to bud in front of me, she who weighed maybe 80 pounds if you strung fishing tackle off her head and me, weighing significantly more than that…

Now look, If you say excuse me, I am more than happy to get out of the way but if you don’t and just try and push past me, I don’t. Our elderly trollop, well she didn’t say a word just tried to get to the bananas with some kind of lame-ass granny elbow manoeuvre and how can I explain this… hmmm ok – have you ever watched a Rhoomba try and get around a couch?

That little robot vacuum, it just bumps into the couch and bounces off, spins and makes another attempt a couple of inches down, then bounces off again…. it was like 8th grade health watching all those little sperms try and get into the egg, just hovering there, frantic, tails quivering with anticipation but unable to penetrate… or get to the bananas in this case.

Finally she relented and realized the monolith wasn’t going to move unless she spoke and so she said “excuse me” and Lo did the mountain not move for her and did not the sun shine upon her face and did not the whole world of bananas become hers for the taking….

Saying “Excuse me”, such a simple little thing… you’d be surprised how far that and a punch in the face gets you these days…

Have a Great Day.

Sometimes, the only thing turning the other cheek gets you, is big fat neck muscles. According to the Mayans we may or may not all wake up December 22nd, and I for one would hate to shuffle off this mortal coil full of venom and bile. I want to start things off with a clean slate, that’s why I’m going to get some thing off my chest in the next few weeks.

I enjoy letting things fester, I want to be Statler and Waldorf, those two old guys who sat up in the balcony and made fun of everyone on the Muppet Show.

… I’ve always been very quick to judge all those about me, so it’s a natural that I be the one to stab through the heart all the artifice and overly elaborate politically correct nonsense that passes for civility.

Angry, for want of a better word can be good, sometimes the shiny happy surface is devoid of meaning and simply that… surface…. not nearly as interesting and meaningful as the gnarly, matted underbelly. To glimpse behind the curtain is to see the real goods. Allow me to be your Toto, let me pull back the curtain and show you the all-powerful OZ.

I have a unique perspective, my years of intelligence work for shadow agencies around the globe has given me access to information and knowledge you would never be privy too, facts and data, you couldn’t possibly comprehend. I’ll be careful to ensure certain filters remain intact, I don’t want my conscience littered with the responsibility of blowing your mind.

I’m wrapping up this post, you should consider it a prelude to what’s to come… the first topic, which we’ll get to next time… may just be one of the most important documents, ever… it concerns Honey Boo Boo and what she means to you.

I hope you are all well and things are going ok, it’s been awhile since I last posted and I can only assume you are feeling a bit lost without my counsel and guidance, don’t worry – I’ve never strayed too far and for now I’m back – at least until December…

Have a Great Day

Before we go any further, as the newly elected president of the dyslexic narcoleptic association I would just like to say

By way of helping you all to stay current – I will occasionally try and “hip” you all up by introducing some new words into your vocabulary.

There will be no test however I encourage you to try using them in sentences throughout your daily conversations, and when you do I ask nothing more than a small royalty. Now, on to today’s lesson;

Smellucination - To ‘smellucinate’ – to imagine a smell that isn’t actually there, as if to ‘hallucinate’.
To experience a ‘smellucination’.

Used in a sentence – “Did someone fart in this elevator or am I smellucinating?”

Yellow Carded – When a person does not wash their hands after urinating, they receive a yellow card. Similar to a warning in certain sports.

Used in a sentence – “Brent got yellow carded because he is a disgusting douche bag and didn’t wash after whizzing”

Splenda Daddy - A man who strives to be a sugar daddy, but just doesn’t have the funds to pull it off.

Used in a sentence – “She was all excited to have finally landed a Sugar Daddy, until he rolled up in his 97′ Accord and she realized she had actually landed a Splenda Daddy instead.”

Today last word is Kardash - A measurement of time totaling 72 days. Became popular after Kim Kardashian’s highly-publicized wedding only lasted for 72 days. It’s listed as one of the up and coming words of 2012.

Used in a sentence – “I’ll see you in a kardash!!”

Ok well I hope I’ve helped you become a teeny bit hipper, Have a Great Day.

Where do they get off, with their beads and tattoos, and elaborate temples with entirely too many stairs to be safe – not a proper railing in sight…. don’t take my word for it, here read it for yourself;

bloody mayans…

Have a great day.

…riding a bike, it’s worth two in the bush.

Get your reading hats cleaned, de-crust your eyeballs, spit clear the phlegm that has long clogged your laugh tunnels, lo these many months. For tis I, lord…… wow, phlegm is a funny word. I mean seriously if they tried to spell it any weirder I don’t think they could. You’ve got the whole “PH” pronounced “F” thing going on as if that’s not enough they have to just pull a random “G” out of thin air and plop it right down in the hindquarters of the word.

Makes no sense, why stop there? Why not institute some arbitrary rule whereby all the letters of the alphabet get used equally, we could have random, silent “Q’s” dropped in here and there, how about the “X” hardly ever gets a work out, well fear not, t’will all be averaged out by the random placement of  these new silent letters added to ever word.

People are far too complacent about their command of spelling as it is, what we need right now is a right jolly good rogering, and the best way to keep our language fresh and alive, not to mention combating all this shortened “texting” nonsense is to add far far more “Q’s and X’s” to everything.

Come on, stand up for something, give meaning to your miserable life and help make us the linguistic equivalent of that cheese you used to be able to buy that came in a tube, it opened in the middle and you could just squeeze it out onto your cracker, or more likely right into your mouth…

Come on everyone, joxin mqe… adfd randopm, sqilent letterxs tmo, evrythinxg frxxom noqw oxqn…

So as the weather turns from mediocre to mediocxre, and I bring the linguistic bike up from the cellar, let’s all strap our helmquets on and go for a ride.

Have a Great Day

I hesitate to say I’m back because jesus, mary & joseph didn’t I hear about saying I was back a month ago, then dropping away…

Here’s what’s been running through my mind – there’s a void most of us carry around. It’s that place in our lives where what we’ve been hanging onto . . . clinging to for dear life . . . is stripped away. It’s that place in us where we let go of what we know, what we think we know, and what we want and surrender to the unknown.

It is the place of saying and meaning, ‘I don’t know.’ It means standing there with our hands empty for a while, sometimes watching everything we wanted disappear; our self-image, our definition of who we thought we should be, the clones we’ve created of ourselves, the people we thought we had to have, the things we thought were so important to collect and surround ourselves with, the job we were certain was ours, the place we thought we’d live in all our lives. . .

Surrender control to the supreme wisdom and authority of whatever you believe in, deep in your soul. Step into the void with courage. Learn to say, I don’t know. That’s not blind faith. It’s pure faith, faith in yourself – faith that will lead you wherever your soul wants and needs to go.

So that’s what I’m going to try and do from now on, I’m not going to stifle, I’m going to take the path less travelled, the one I want to follow and not the one I think will best benefit those around me. I’ve got a birthday coming pretty soon and the realization that – more than likely – I’ve got more birthdays behind me than in front of me.

It all adds up to pretty much the standard, piss or get off the pot, you don’t get into your 40′s or 50′s, 60′s and beyond without your fair share of regrets. Other than my radiant & sublime children, what claim and testament shall stand as my legacy.

Well, to that end, do I usher forth a new phase of my life, I’m not sure where it will lead but to the best of my ability I intend to minimize regrets for the remainder of my days and live a life that builds to a crescendo of vitality and accomplishment.

Ha ha, just kidding, I’ll probably just end up playing more x-box and doubling up on my Doritos binges…

Have a great day.

of course you’re right, I won’t argue with you but I do have a flaw, and I think it’s a deep-seated fear of success. It’s the only logical explanation for why I have repeatedly refused the invitation to New York to pick up my Pulitzer, the first year I was elated, then, after having some time to reflect I sent a Native woman in my place to refuse my award, in a nod to Marlon Brando’s refusal of the best actor award at the 72′ Oscars.

Admittedly, it could have happened to anyone, the pattern only became apparent to me after I also turned down the Stockholm invite to receive my Nobel. This time, I sent a 63 pound slab of ham, in a nod to late actor Dom Deluise, with my refusal scrawled in pate across the well-marbled meat.

Where does the fear of success come into it? Well let’s take a look at this post for example – right before christmas, when the posts were still a little spotty in their frequency I was averaging just over 2000 people a day. As I mentioned many times before I started out with friends and family about 35 people or so… I had no idea where the others came from, but I built it, and they came… damn if Kevin Costner wasn’t right…

About 15,000 a week, what started out as a little mouth piece to keep friends and family in the loop, turned into one of the most influential social commentary vehicles mankind had ever know, and it threw me. This little stupid thing started generating its own little pressure pulses. Was my column funny enough, did it have a point, would the readers find it entertaining… I felt some pressure to continue being, in some cases, the only reason people got out of bed in the morning, to nourish their consciousness at the fount of my radiance, being the chlorophyll to their boston fern, the nails to their hardwood floors…

Sure it’s stupid, who cares what I wrote, it was just a place to vent and empty some of the cobwebs from my head, but then……  then the letters started coming, the ones telling me how after reading my column their cancer had gone into spontaneous remission, the letters about how they were going from village to village in africa, reading my letters and virtually overnight, hunger disappeared. My words were all they needed to fill their bellies, fill them full of hope and whimsy and ultimately, life.

Letters from Asia about how farmers were reading my posts to their flocks and bird flu would simply vanish…. I tell you, it’s a huge responsibility and it began to weigh on me. Hang on while I change this water into grape juice…. relax, I didn’t say wine, I said grape juice – I’m still a ways away from that…

Here’s my point, I’m very much like John Coffee from the Green Mile, (if you’ve forgotten, I recommend a re-watch of the film before proceeding with the remainder of this post) too many people feeding off my teat of knowledge and humour – weaken me, they drain my mirthful exuberance and the ability to heal with my words, the transcendental way in which I arrange those 26 letters of our alphabet into healing poetry.

So the posts took longer and longer to write, I started agonizing over topics and writing, then re-writing and it just started not being fun anymore. So, as per usual, when I need to think and clear my head I went to my quiet place and wrote down on scraps of paper all my self doubts, all the negativity and tied them to carrier pigeons, then I lit those pigeons on fire and set them free.

Man, those pigeons sure started out strong, really giving it their all, but my god, they weren’t really making very much headway and on top of that, the whole area reeked of overdone squab and burnt feathers. Even though the little fellas didn’t get far, they were still far enough away from me to have carried my troubles away on wings of smoke and flame…

So here we are, I feel better, I’ve eaten well and I’m not making any promises but I’ll post as much as I am inclined. The daily numbers have dropped considerable but there are still about 400 of you checking in every day… you are my faithful, when I finally get my cult started you will all be placed in positions of privilege. Far subordinate to me, but privileged in relation to the other poor morons we get to sign up.

Have a Great Day

Along with practical advice (“keep [your children] away from new people”), it tried to reassure: “Remember — at least half of polio patients get well without any crippling.” As both tonsillectomies and polio increased, a horrifying correlation emerged: Children who’d had a tonsillectomy were more likely to get a certain type of polio (infection of the bulbar region of the brain stem) than children who had not had a tonsillectomy.

This became common knowledge. Polio Pointers said “don’t have mouth or throat operations during a polio outbreak.” In 1954, the American Journal of Public Health ran an editorial summarizing the link between tonsillectomy and polio.

The main evidence was that within a group of children with polio, the ones with bulbar polio were about three times more likely to have had their tonsils removed than the ones with spinal polio (infection of the spinal cord).

Folks, I couldn’t have said it any better myself.

And that’s why to this day, the highway speed limit is 55.

Those of you who have already had their tonsils out, guess what, most likely you also have Polio, now stop being mobile and get yourself into the wheelchair you belong in and get used to everyone calling you FDR. Which actually is a compliment because he is considered one of the greatest presidents ever, so, congratulations on that.

Have a Great Day

You know, the time you spend reading these posts….. you’ll never get that time back… it’s gone. People with Polio can’t afford to waste time…. for example, reading that little bit of nonsense above, you could have written a symphony or at least a brief concerto… but you didn’t. You’re wasting your polio riddled existence on bubble gum and fast cars.

It can get pretty weird up in here when I turn off my internal writing critic and remove some of the filters….

Having failed so well, and so early means that things can only go up from here… How’s that for a glass is half full self-delusion…

Have a Great Day. There… that’s a post… see I’m back on track.