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.

You should be female, look ridiculously good in a schoolgirl, nurse, stewardess or stern librarian outfit. You should also be resistant to carpel tunnel syndrome because my god will you be writing bon mots like there is no tomorrow.

Everyone knows ‘Bon Mot’ is a Viking saying, dating back to the mid 1980′s which means, literally – “under or within the comfort of shoulder pads” in casual conversation, and Viking sub-culture – it’s come to be used for any instance of clothing being adorned with foam or padding. It originated on the well-known Viking program ‘Miami Vice’.

Wait, bon mot doesn’t mean what I thought it meant. At all. Ok you won’t be jotting down my bon mots, but ummm, well…. let’s see — Oh I know, quips… plenty of quips, jargon, there will be occasional jargon.

Undoubtedly, there will be repartee, we may get into retorts and riposte. So you’d best be ready for anything.

Send me you best photo and then once I’ve seen those I’ll look at your resumes. Thanks everyone and good luck.

Have a Great Day

Ladies and Gentleman, let’s have a big hand for Mr Johnny Cash… singing, Don’t take your Guns to Town…

A young cowboy named Billy Joe grew restless on the farm
A boy filled with wonderlust who really meant no harm
He changed his clothes and shined his boots
And combed his dark hair down
And his mother cried as he walked out

[Chorus]
Don’t take your guns to town son
Leave your guns at home Bill
Don’t take your guns to town

He laughed and kissed his mom
And said your Billy Joe’s a man
I can shoot as quick and straight as anybody can
But I wouldn’t shoot without a cause
I’d gun nobody down
But she cried again as he rode away

[Chorus]
Don’t take your guns to town son
Leave your guns at home Bill
Don’t take your guns to town

He sang a song as on he rode
His guns hung at his hips
He rode into a cattle town
A smile upon his lips
He stopped and walked into a bar
And laid his money down
But his mother’s words echoed again

[Chorus]
Don’t take your guns to town son
Leave your guns at home Bill
Don’t take your guns to town

He drank his first strong liquor then to calm his shaking hand
And tried to tell himself he had become a man
A dusty cowpoke at his side began to laugh him down
And he heard again his mothers words

[Chorus]
Don’t take your guns to town son
Leave your guns at home Bill
Don’t take your guns to town

Filled with rage then
Billy Joe reached for his gun to draw
But the stranger drew his gun and fired
Before he even saw
As Billy Joe fell to the floor
The crowd all gathered ’round
And wondered at his final words

[Chorus]
Don’t take your guns to town son
Leave your guns at home Bill
Don’t take your guns to town…

Folks, that’s real good advice right there, don’t take your guns to town… Good night folks and have a great day.

I’m going to try and post something every single day this year, even if it’s only a few words. I’m feeling all aglow, in the post new years optimism. I’m gonna be all I can be, the few the proud, ain’t no mountain high enough, the stars have aligned, besides there are no Kardashian weddings in the near future – all signs point to this being the best year in a long time.

As always, I begin the year with a human sacrifice, an offer to my druid overlords. This year it was Consuela, a Filipino nanny I had secreted into the country through my human trafficking network.

Man, did she put up a fight. But nothing worthwhile ever comes easy….

I’m also declaring this year, 2012, the official year of the Amish Fist-fight, I will try and engage as many Amish people as possible in fist-fights – I’ll make no distinction, young, old, men, women, children – they’re all fair game… never let it be said I was one to discriminate… so it’s tally-ho…

These are but a few of my resolutions, a smattering – Oh yeah, at some point during the year I may also finally take the initiative and head over to North Korea to clear all that nonsense up once and for all, we’ll see how busy I get, I would hate for it to interfere with my Macrame art installation, the one where I plan on creating tea cozies for all the mailboxes in the city – saving the world isn’t always beneficial, or tolerant of  one’s hobbies.

So in closing, hobbies, nannies, mailboxes and North Korean Macrame.

May the Druids bless you in 2012.

Have a Great Day.

PS – Just Kidding, my Uterus is fine….