Saturday, May 17, 2014
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Sunday, September 08, 2013
Wednesday, September 04, 2013
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Monday, August 26, 2013
Friday, October 14, 2011
Monday, March 22, 2010
Study the photo and learn!
(Are you forgetting to slump AT THIS VERY MOMENT?
Then start thinking BENT!)
NOW or IMMEDIATELY -- whichever comes first!
Play it safe: get old and EAT TOO MUCH!
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Friday, March 19, 2010
Maybe it's just me, but I prefer to wait until after I'm married to go celibate. Yes, it has a lot to do with my Christian faith and with respect I'll demand from my future husband -- and for myself.
I'd much rather have my husband know that I stay pure during marriage, at least in relation to him.
I get a lot of praise and a lot of criticism, but mostly people don't give a hoot what I do -- though I'm positive my husband will!
Some people say I should give celibacy a try before marriage; they compared it to trying out a new car.
If you don't wait, great -- but I'll wait as long as I have to, right up until my wedding day -- and if I don't get married, then guess I'll be spending a lot of time on my back (or other mutually satisfying positions whatsoever that I can dream up.)
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Most of us slow down mentally as we age. But there’s a world of difference between “just slowing down” and moving into Big League Bogglement – which is, of course, that huge stew of memory-loss, confusion and total muddle we all strive for.
The more questions below that you answer YES to, the better your chances of discarding your old life, advancing into the bogglized one that I, personally, thrive in. The questions:
- Look for signs of memory loss and language difficulties. Can you trash, dump and frazzle-up words, names of common objects such as your spouse, etc.?
- Have you been forgetting ever-simpler math, for example - or do your old skills persist and resist?
- Can you stay unfocussed on an easy-as-lying Dick and Jane conversation even when Jane is out to lunch?
- Can you act inappropriately as well as you used to? For example, can you still wear your underpants on your head and your cap on your butt at weddings?
- The boggled mind is the happy mind, and the royal road to bogglization is wide, short and toll-free!
Did you understand what you just read? If not, you may be on the way to a delightful, fact-free, highly-boggle-ated inner life!
Enjoy every moment!
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
If one thing is identical to another, both are identical.
Bottomlessness of glasses, cups and bottles is directly proportional to unfillability.
Never end a sentence abrup
Pure virgin filth is not substantially cleaner than old-fashioned dirt.
What post-mortem smiles lack in warm, they make up for in durability.
The funnier the jokes you make up, the more easily remembered by people who forget they heard them from you first.
The less absurd a politician’s promises, the less likely they’re believed.
The more aimless your path, the more likely you are to get where you don’t mind going.
The shortest distance between two points is another point.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Regreta oozed out of bed like a comatose anaconda. The first 24 hours of the morning were her worst.
And so were the last.
She snaked across the floor to the coffee machine under her bed. She splashed a cupful on her blouse - though it would’ve been neater to drink it straight from the cup. Slurping coffee off herself was awkward – especially with a furry tennis ball in her mouth.
The newspapers on the living room ceiling were piled down almost to the floor. Instead of reading them, Regreta read the tea-leaves in her underpants and found the news was really putrid.
What time was it? Unfortunately, her hourglass had bottlenecked as the concrete inside it rock-hardened solid. Thankfully, the loss of precision was more than made up for by the savings on batteries.
As night plumped down its big black rump on the town, Regreta drove her riding rug-mower up to the bar.
What to drink? A bottle of Coke—or just the Coke itself? She was really thirsty!
She drove back to the sofa and took a huge gulp – barely getting the cushions down her gullet.
When the bottle was empty, she marveled how the sofa had fit inside it in the first place. (She was glad she had paid extra for a liquid sofa.)
She snailed toward the bedroom, optimistically considered her body half-full of booze, not half empty. Her strait-jacket fell up from to the ceiling as she crawled into bed. She poured concrete into her nose and mouth to keep the booze from spilling out.
Sleep would come, that was for sure, or maybe even the big sleep. She had made sure not to drink so little gin that she stayed conscious, and passed out before the concrete set. This was important to her; she didn’t want to be in control of herself or appear sane to any one of the thousands of roaches that might observe her.
Sleep did come, the late writhing sun found her at peace. It was the first time she’d made it through the same day twice in one 24-hour period.