No Session

A week off for me from delving into my mind as Thera was sick today.   Sadly, I skipped last night's support group (for the second week in a row) due to weather.   I really need to go to that thing more than I do, but living so far from it is a pain in the arse to be honest.   I hate the wait after work before it starts and I hate the drive at the end of such a long day.   They do help however and, more importantly, I feel I help others there, so I really have to make an effort to recommit to that group.   They are really good and nice people after all and socializing isn't bad for me.

Today, if I were in session, I would have spoken about how today is great proof of the randomness of life and how nothing really matters in the long run.   Sadly, I think today also showed me Karma is a myth, so that could be problematic in the long run, but I am getting off subject-

Yesterday, as you know, I returned a twenty to the bank they gave me in error.   If life followed a plan or there was Karma, that should be a check in the "good" box for me, right?   Well, today I discovered why I had yet to receive my debt card even though it expires in 10 days- someone else got it.   It seems that not only did someone else get it, but they figured out a way to use it without activating it because, upon checking my account today, I found out someone charged $100 at Starbucks and $10 at some online shoe store I had never heard of.  

Is the Universe pissed at me for returning $20 they tried to slip to me?   If I believed in cause and effect in life's treatment of you, like I used to, I would be looking at, analyzing, and fixating on what life was trying to tell me in this series of events that obviously had to mean something, but nope; no meaning, no purpose, no nothing...just some random shit that lined up in an interesting way.

My attitude remains intact after this test of my philosophy and I went through it all with a smile and not even a little annoyed by it all.   I simply went to the bank, filled out some paperwork, canceled my card, ordered a new one, and went about my day with my mood unaltered.

It did amuse me when I walked into the bank.   The bank manager from yesterday looked up from her desk, smiled at me, and said "did we do it again?"   It was cute.

Better Be Good for Goodness' Sake

I just freaked the fuck out of my bank.  No, really; I just walked in and confused the entire lot of them.   I started with the receptionist who didn’t know how to handle me, so she referred me to a manager who didn’t know what to do exactly and she went and got the head teller who had to shake my hand because he didn’t know what else to do.   He said this was something they had not really encountered before and were just simply shocked.   He could only shake my hand and thank me profusely and repeatedly.   So what did I do?

Yesterday I had to cash a check for $200.   The teller gave me all twenties and counted them before me.  I counted them again and placed them in my wallet and went about my errands; just another Monday until I used my money and discovered there was too much there.    I should have only had 10 twenties which I spent, but when I handed the 10 twenties to the cashier, she handed me one back because there were eleven in the stack, not ten.   Two of the twenties had fallen in love and were in the middle of copulation it seems when the teller grabbed my cash and these lovers refused to be parted.   They stayed in the embrace of love even when I counted the money and it wasn’t until an honest salesperson spotted the lovers that I became aware of them…but now what?

“SCORE!’ was my natural first thought.  “Free Money!”  “I won!”

Then came the voice and it came very quickly: “don’t they count the money in drawers at the end of a shift at the bank?”

“I’m sure they do.”

“And won’t they find out the drawer was twenty short?”

“Probably….and?”

“And they might have a zero tolerance policy.   The teller could lose her job over it.   How long will that twenty last you versus how long a steady paycheck will last her?”

Bastard was right; the money wasn’t going to change my life at all, but the missing money could alter her life horribly, so I called the bank and told the manager on duty what happened and she informed me the teller’s drawer was indeed short and, when I guessed the amount, she sighed relief.   I told her I would be in today to return the money, but I guess she didn’t tell anyone else about it.   She probably dismissed it as something I would intend to do, but not follow through on over a simply twenty.

So today I walked into the bank and confused the bloody lot of them.  They thanked me and told me people never do this, but I said there was nothing else I could do.   I didn’t want someone to lose their job over a simple mistake and I was simply doing the thing we all tell ourselves we would do.    Doing right only counts in my humble opinion, when nobody is watching you.   There was no reward, no parade, no holiday in my honor, but maybe I restored a little faith in humanity.

Quick Meaningless Empty Babble

A subject came up in a thread on a blog I play around on and it sparked me thinking.   The subject was "wisdom vs intelligence" and it sparked many quotes in my mind from the Tao of Pooh.

"A clever mind is not a heart. Knowledge doesn't really care, wisdom does."
― Benjamin Hoff, The Tao of Pooh


"The masters of life know the way, for they listen to the voice within them, the voice of wisdom and simplicity, the voice that reasons beyond cleverness and knows beyond knowledge."
― Benjamin Hoff, The Tao of Pooh

Told you I have gotten big on quotes since 7/30/13.

I have always believed Intelligence is what you know; the depth of the library in your  mind and your ability to recall the most minute details from that reference section.    I am a fairly intelligent person, but probably closer to par for the course.    I know quite a lot, but have difficulty recalling it without the proper spark to set off the explosion of memory.

I have always felt Wisdom is the ability to learn from experience and apply it to one's life.    While I do feel intelligent, 7/30/13 has made me far more wise than I ever was.    And my exploration into the meaning of things and my love of quotes I have noticed has made me more wise than intelligent.   I can't recall facts, but I can quotes and teachings and can and do apply them to my daily life.

Let me explain how I see things by example:

The intelligent person can look at a fire and explain to me the whys of the fire and the hows and find uses for it and will see it as a tool and nothing more, but the wise person remembers the damage it can cause, the pain, and knows to treat it with care.   The wise person will use it as well, but with the protections of past experience that the intelligent person will write off as error on their part.   The intelligent man is burdened with hubris where the wise man knows he knows nothing.

I'm done babbling for now.

And the Posts Go On When the Mind is Blown

Gimme a V!
Gimme an A!
Gimme a C!
Gimme an A!
Next comes the T!
Followed by an I!
Oh, where's that O?
Finish it off with an N!

What's that spell?  VACATION I hope!  Yes, I am on vacation!  Splitting.  Bolting.  Getting the Hell outta Dodge.  Leaving the office.  Abandoning my cat (guilt trip on that one).   Stick a fork in me for I am done!  A week with the entire family ( parents, brother, sister, brother and sister in-laws, niece, friend of the family: everyone but poor Satchel and Lilly who will NOT be hanging out together having a "can you believe they left us" bitch session.

Where am I going?  Not gonna tell ya because it is not vacation if they can reach you.

When am I coming back?  Not gonna tell ya because I don't want you camping outside my apartment eagerly awaiting my return.

Who am I going with?  Not gonna...oh wait.

Will I be updating my blog?  I hope so and there might actually be a post or two that ISN'T cancer related.    Can you imagine?   Do you remember when I was all politics and pop culture?   Can you believe I don't know ANYTHING going on in the pop culture world?   It is nice actually.   I now consider myself an expert in Nostalgic Pop Culture and have lost the Ph.D in Pop Culture bestowed on me by a group of friends.

Have a great weekend although I may post again before Monday.  

Change Changing Changes

So this is the year of change it seems. A change at my old haunt online has driven me from posting there. A change in a good friend’s behavior has changed multiple aspects of my life and a change at work has made my job more secure. My sister is changing her location. My niece has returned to school.

As with most changes: some are bad; some are good; and the vast majority of changes require time and distance to properly evaluate on the grand scale of life. I will however gladly accept that we are busy at work; very busy. If the other changes were the Karmic price I had to pay, then I would gladly pay even more.

Rush sang: No changes are permanent, but change is. It has been a good 10 years since the last change in my life; I am due and welcome it. Let’s see where you take me change. Let’s ride!

Videos by Me

I now have a Youtube page where I am posting videos. So far it is just two music videos for my fake band, The Morbid Posers, with all visuals and audio performed by me; three animated things I posted while learning a new program to make more videos; and one of my cat plaiyng fetch. More will be coming.

My Youtube Page!!!

Enjoy and come by often please. I want the views. Seems I do have an ego after all.

Warning: Those Day Ahead

Today is a those day. I can feel it, can you? I could tell by the endless stream of commuters who refused me access to the far left lane none of them were using that today was certainly a those day.

Personally, I prefer THESE! days. THESE! is such a friendly and inviting word. Would you prefer THESE! or those? Always THESE!, right? THESE! are eager and ready to help! those are distant and require you to work for them. Think about it: have you ever said those with any eagerness? You mean I get those reeks of disappointment. I can have THESE! drips with excitement!

Stay indoors today and cover your head; crawl in the sheets and call it a day. Today is a those day.

Frankenstein's Earworm

The song I have in my head today is one of my own creation, which should be a cool thing except that it is only in my head. Oh, the musical aspect of it is on my iPad and has been for 2 days now, but the vocal part, one I swore to give up on trying, is on a repeat cycle in my cranium which happens to have amazing acoustics, but I digress...

The problem seems so simple which only seems to complicate it; the Earworm only consists of two lines: 1) They're Getting Ready; 2) Time to Run. The first line is repeated 3 times and the last only once. Sounds simple, right? Two fucking days I have sung those two lines over and over and over again in various pitches and even trying silly voices hoping they might sound cool to no avail. All I have accomplished is having it perfected in my head, mocking me as it now knows I lack the ability to get it out.

How do you kill an Earworm you have no way of sharing?

An Example of my Life

Ever work with people who thrive on drama and therefore must create it wherever they can? Me too. Here is one such story of how my days go:

On my way into work this morning I received a text from a tech who was scheduled to work tonight. She told me her daughter was in the hospital and she could not work tonight and that she was so sorry about that. This sucks, but shit happens. We had a busy week and I needed her to work tonight rather badly, but her child takes priority. Sadly, I had already given another tech this weekend off (she had asked on Monday).

When I got to work, the Office Manager was the only other person there and she had just returned from a week's vacation. I wanted to let her know about my schedule problem before anyone came it to present her with problems and I gave her a solution. I said:

“Hey, I know we have four patients tonight and one of my techs who was scheduled tonight called in because her daughter was taken to the hospital. I had given another tech the weekend off at the start of this week, so I need your approval to give Tech C some overtime.”

How did my Office Manager convey this to the rest of the staff when they arrived?

“Brad gave two techs the weekend off, so we need to find another tech or give Tech C overtime.”

The reality was I had the schedule covered, but an unforeseen event happened beyond my control.

The story she implied was I was irresponsible and fucked up and am costing the company money unless they can think of a solution.

To my mom and Boss who will read this, DO NOT DO ANYTHING! I am just venting which is part of what my blog is for.

Special Message About My Parodies

I write quite a few, but I feel I should explain why and how. They do not reflect my personal politics ever and knowing the why and how should help you understanding them.

I have been a member of a political blog for about 9 years now and we debate any and everything. Quite often, a member will say something and the way they phrase it makes me think of a song and, as any of you know, I am subject to being tormented by Earworms. My choices at that point are to either suffer or to try and turn it against itself.

Writing parodies is something I have done for years. Anyone who ever got stuck with me in a busy pizza kitchen on a Saturday night knows I love writing parodies. Hell, I even remember my sister and I writing a parody of Footloose called "Quaaludes" and I include that example to show how my parodies come from various characters' points of view and do not reflect my own. Neither my sister nor I did drugs when we wrote that song; I was in 7th grade and she in 9th.

So basically, what I am saying is that the songs I post here do not reflect my own personal view points but rather are all based on a vast assortment of online personalities I have experienced in my tenure as a blogger.

I hope that clears some things up.

Sorry Ruskies

My blog seems to have been taken over by some Russians having a conversation in Russian and it is annoying me to no ends. I have put moderation back on to stop this. I will talk about my leg later, but I just got to work.

D-Day Recovery

I am not a verbally gifted person for the most part. It may be because I have been solitary for so long or maybe I never was very loquacious in the first place, but either way I don't express myself very well with the spoken word and therefore was mostly emotionally silent this weekend. This may lead those attending my festivities with the impression I was not having a good time. This could not be further from the truth. The reality is that this was the best birthday I think I have ever had in my life and I can't thank each one of you enough, but let's try.

MOM- I am awestruck with the planning you put into this weekend and I am humbled to have you as my mother. I could not have asked for a better weekend and you were behind it all. I love you more than I can ever express.

ROB- This was your weekend as well and I hope your Father's day matched my birthday in the amount of joy. All your children and your grandchild were here all weekend long and it was a thing of beauty to watch you with your granddaughter.

JEFF and LAURA- Happty Father's Day to you Jeff as well. And thank you both for coming down on Friday in all that traffic to spend my actual birthday with me even though we were coming up on Saturday. It was very touching you took the time to drive down. I know what a pain the drive is and Nola can be to get ready for anything. Thank you both for coming.

JULIE- Speaking of driving, it would have been a glaring absense had you not drvien down from Gainesville to spend this weekend with me. Of all the gifts I recieved, your coming down was the best.

GORDON- Your love was felt and appreciated. I know you wanted to come down, but the guilt of how much you would have had to go through to get here would have overshadowed the joy of seeing you. We will get together soon.

CAST of HAIR- Wow. Just wow. I got chills during Walking in Space (my favorite song from the show) and was moved at the end. I had grown up on the movie, but now I feel I have finally seen Hair for the first time. Just wow.

For my 41st, I will try to learn how to express myself verbally. Until then, I hope you got to see this and to know how much this weekend meant to me.

Come to think of it...there are no words to cover this feeling of joy and being loved. Thank you so much.

D-Day +1

I can see it on the horizon. I have less than 24 hours now at this point. At 11:40-ish AM tomorrow I start my 40th year in this reality. Funny and I know it is a cliché, but I don't feel 40. Or maybe I do feel 40 and, having never been 40 before just don't recognize it as such. Maybe THIS is how 40 feels; exactly like 30. It is rather weird the weight we assign to arbitrary numbers and how we define ourselves based on how society thinks that number should behave.

"He doesn't act 40."

If it wasn't for the mirror, I would say I was turning 25. I feel the same as I did. The parts of me I can see without a mirror look basically the same; hands, feet, legs, etc. I do have a bald spot, but at my height, who can see it? Even my thoughts are the same as when I was 25. First on my mind right now are the amazing records I found yesterday after work and I can't wait to get home and listen to them some more; just like when I was 25. I am even playing video games nightly; just like 25.

So, how does 40 act? When I was a kid, I thought 40 was when you started sizing dentures. I thought it was the age Depends became underwear and "sir" became a polite way of saying "asshole" as in "excuse me, but you are in the way, sir" or "no sir, you must wait over there." I was preparing for my first Social Security check and AARP application. I was thinking of burial plots. These may have been an incorrect assumptions on my part.

Tomorrow I am having a Carvel Ice Cream Cake for my 40th and my brother, sister, sister-in-law, and niece are going to spend it with me and my parents. I can't wait.

Oh, and when tomorrow does come, wish my mother a happy birthday instead of me. I was a C-section baby delivered a month late so I literally didn't do a damn thing on that day. Yes, I was lazy even in utero .

Happy Giving Birth Day Mom

D-Day +2

The heavy rain knocked my antenna loose and I lost a channel...well, three. Channel 39 is one of those taking advantage of the HD broadcasting spectrum and they have 39-1, 39-2, and 39-3. 39-1 is regular Jerry Springer, Maury, Steve Wilcos, and daytime court shows while being CW at night. 39-2 is called "Antenna TV" and they show 3 Stooges, 3's Company, Hazel, etc. 39-3 is called THIS TV and they show crap. Of the three, I watch -2 on Fridays for my 3 Stooges marathon and -1 way too much. I have even set my TIVO to record particularly spicy Springer shows that air when I am at work. This is not proper behavior for someone turning 39+1.

I guess I should thank Mother Nature for doing what I lacked the strength to do on my own- cut the Springer umbilical cord. I will miss it, but it is time to move on. Besides, I still will have Judge Judy on channel 10. I love her; she's a total bitch.

Dear 18 Year Old Me...

I owe you a very deep felt apology for I failed you. I tried my best and fought against all obstacles, but in the end it just was not meant to be. I had to abandon my quest for the betterment of the 40 Year Old Me and, last Saturday, I cut off my ponytail.

I remember quite clearly that day sitting in Fontana Hall’s cafeteria, red-eyed and foggy minded, while eating a bowl of mixed of every cereal they offered and talking about the value of long hair with a few friends. They need names and I never use real names out of respect for people’s privacy, so let’s call them: Mike and John. The third person will be called “Droopy Fonzerelli” because that is what we called him behind his back. The guy looked like Fonzi and Droopy had a kid! Oh, and I am not proud of the “behind his back” thing, but I was only 18 so cut me some slack. Anywho…

“Come Along” by Salty Dog played over the cafeteria’s P.A. system and Mike and I, who both were growing our hair out, were asked about it by John. I can only assume the song sparked the curiosity, but he asked us if we ever planned on cutting our hair. “Never” being the standard 18 year old Long Hair response and John pressed the issue by offering hypothetical monetary values to the question and Mike and I continued to say “no.”

“I’ll bet you will cut your hair,” John said smugly, leaving “I will turn 40 with a ponytail” as my only logical recourse.

Needless to say, both Mike and I have had short hair in the days since, but around the time I turned 38 the conversation suddenly reappeared clearly in my mind. Many nights I fell asleep with that afternoon in Fontana Hall replaying verbatim over and over until I decided I had to keep that promise to myself. I stopped getting my hair cut that moment and spent the next year and a half looking bad.

At first, I had a rather “Bozo the clown”ish appearance. The male pattern baldness my head choose to take made my top frizz upwards as my sides ballooned outward. I rode the horror of my reflection out for months on end until I reached a “Page Boy” bob that was even more horrendous than the Bozo. As my sides grew to a point I could push them behind my ears, the “Page Boy” became a “Poser Tail” or one of those pathetic ponytails you saw people have in the 80’s when they tried to hide their mullet. That slowly morphed into what can be called a “Nicolas Cage Cut” to those feeling kind or just “YUCH” to those being honest.

For the last two weeks, I have been pulling my hair back and thinking about cutting my hair, but my promise/bet stayed in my head. I would grab the scissors and hear Crosby, Stills, and Nash singing Almost Cut My Hair/ Happened Just the Other Day and would climax with my tossing the scissors down as the lyrics I Feel Like I Owe It to Someone blasted in my head. Despite the Earworm enticing me to keep my hair, a voice in the back of my head compelled me to pick up the scissors again everyday and repeat the process until Saturday when the scissors finally closed.

I felt my heart pounding just before I pulled a Delilah on my Samson persona fearing the same outcome, but the sound of the steel splitting the fibers of hair compelled me to keep going. The sound even managed to drown out the Earworm begging me to keep the hair. I could hear crowds cheering as I made each following cut. I knew I made the right choice.

I tried my best to fulfill your promise to “John” made all those years ago. I told my boss that growing my hair was the form my “midlife crisis” was going to take so he would allow me to grow it out. I put up with over two years of looking horrible all in the name of “turning 40 with a ponytail,” but that was 18 Year Old Me Idealism. 40 Year Old Me Realism realized I don’t have anywhere near enough hair to grow it out and not look like one of those old men with a ponytail I used to make fun of. Ironically, my hair looks fuller and my bald spot smaller now.

Don’t take it personally 18 Year Old Me. As I get older and my time with you gets further and further away, you become cooler and cooler in my mind than you probably ever were and I even envy you sometimes.

Love Always,
40 Year Old Me

Arguing Against the Existence of the Flying Spaghetti Monster

Since I have decided to start blogging more often to get my "writing chops" back into shape, I have picked today, 4/20, to argue against the existence of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.

What is the Flying Spaghetti Monster? Well, according to their website (yes, the follower of the Flying Spaghetti Monster have a website):

I and many others around the world are of the strong belief that the universe was created by a Flying Spaghetti Monster. It was He who created all that we see and all that we feel. We feel strongly that the overwhelming scientific evidence pointing towards evolutionary processes is nothing but a coincidence, put in place by Him.

Bet you thought I was making it up. They call the practice "Pastafarianism." My sense of humor is abstract and sharp, but not THAT abstract and sharp. I am in awe of this. Anyway, here are my three top reasons it cannot exist:

1. There is no evidence that it flies. It does move through the air, but is this the result of self-propulsion or the after effects of a leap we don't know.


2. Are we sure it is made up of Spaghetti and not say Linguini or even Lasagna noodles? Can we even say for certain that the FSM is of Italian descent as is implied by the use of Italian cuisine to name it?


3. Is "Monster" accurate? Could not the flying spaghetti aspect simply be the result of an unwatched child at Olive Garden and not the sign of a sentient being?


3B. Also, the word "Monster" has such a negative connotation that it is hard to imagine such a being being benevolent and therefore worthy of worship.


Stupid as all Hell I know. Happy 420

The Columbus Facts

Here are the offical facts of Columbus and his time spent discovering America:

He Missed


So I hope you enjoyed this well researched and in depth piece I just finished writing about the triumphs and success of Christopher Columbus. I think this work I have just done best reflects the true nature of his fame and glory. The details you have found contained within this piece of historically accurate literature are based 100% on the factual records of Columbus and his journeys and time spent in North America.

The Trials of Brad: Thursday

And upon the rising of the sun, so did G-d, in all his glory, gaze down upon yon sleeping Brad, safe within the confines of his bed, and did He say unto Himself "today beith the day for him."

And so Brad awoke as usual 15 minutes before his alarm and stretched within the confines of his bed, and did he say unto himself "this is good," but G-d did laughth.

And so Brad stubbed his toe on the corner of his bed whilst on his sleepy-eyed journey to the bathroom and so G-d did giggle.

And as Brad walkith to retrieve his garbage bin did he see the garbage bags removed, but a ton of clumps of cat litter sitting comfortably within the confines of the bin and so G-d did sayith "gotcha!"

And so upon returning from the bid, did Brad's alarm system begin beeping and flashing the holy number "14" repeatedly and did G-d sayth "you ain't seen nothing yet."

And so Brad driveith to work and all is well and he did say unto himself "that G-d that's over" and G-d did respond "ya think?"

And as Brad sat at his desk at work, so did the phones and internet die suddenly and without cause and G-d sayith "whatcha gonna do now?"

And so Brad driveith himself over to the lab which uses a different phone system only for his driver side car window to die suddenly and without cause and G-d sayith "I got more; oh I got more."

And upon Brad's desk at the lab sat not one, but devices used for sleep studies which did die suddenly and without cause and G-d did say "told ya I had more."

And Brad's cell phone did ring and the alarm company did callith to tell him that his alarm was beeping and flashing the holy number "14" and that it required his attention. A new battery, double A in size is all that is needed. And Brad did think a ray of sunshine had come into his day and G-d did bring the clouds.

And on his return to the office from the lab did Brad learn two patients had canceled for that night and that a Tech would now have to be told he wasn't going to work. And Brad did sigh and G-d did say "I know how much you love that."

And even though Brad had pickith up a Double A battery on his way home, two in fact, so did he come to realize upon getting home that double A was the wrong battery and he would have a flashing holy number "14" for one more day.

And G-d began to take pity on poor Brad who still had yet to curse or scream or even kill anyone.

And so that day ended for Brad at 6:00PM as he went back and safe within the confines of his bed to cheat bad luck and he did awake the next day to sunshine and good fortune, thank G-d. And G-d did say "you are very welcome."

Face of Today

I met an old man today living at the gas station near work. He is living there because that happens to be where his van ran out of gas. Proud old man too, not used to or prepared for this kind of life. He tried to ask me for money, but couldn't get the words out. Pride held them in. It took me hearing what little of his story he could get out twice to figure out his circumstances and what he couldn't ask.

I didn't have much, but my seven dollars made his eyes swell and he couldn't get "thank you" out. The look on his face told me that, to him, "thank you" was just not enough. He hadn't eaten in two days and I was only the second person to actually listen to him or show him attention at all. It has depressed me for the remainder of my day that I could not do more.

If I got conned, so be it. I don't believe I was; nobody is that good of an actor. I didn't notice his van at the gas station when I drove home, so I must assume he got more help somewhere. Seven dollars doesn't buy much.

Pre-show

Ever feel like you have front row seats to oblivion and the entire thing is just waiting for you to give it the go ahead? The entire self-destructive implosion of reality is at the gate just patiently waiting for you to say "yeah, I think I am ready now?" I didn't, but I am starting to think I do.

To quote a great Tool song:
I sure could use a vacation from this stupid shit.

Let the show begin!