Finally. The search is over. No more worrying about the truck with no brakes. No more worrying about financing, or searching for the right car, or taking on a new monthly payment. It’s all wrapped up and in motion.
And thanks to the new Razr cellphone (spelling? Who needs it?), I appear strongly in the midst of a mid-life crisis. But that’s silly.
I’m fully aware that I’m well past my midlife.
Ha.
Stress over. Vacation can now actually begin. But first, sleep. And lots of it.
Madness does not always howl. Sometimes, it is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, “Hey, is there room in your head for one more?”
There’s no right or wrong way to get through life. I’m learning that much. As with so many things, it falls back to perspective. What do you want out of life? A calm, safe ride with few surprises and plenty of security? A roller coaster scare with ups and downs and plenty of adrenaline?
Pros and cons, highs and lows. Both roads (and all the innumerable paths in-between) have plenty of each. Boil it down to what you want at the end of every day.
Problems arise, though, when what you want from day to day shifts like mercury. It seems, in a universe with infinite possibilities, that there would be one road that would happily fit everyone’s goals. How to find that road, though?
Constant adjustment, adaptation. Fluid definitions of good and bad, right and wrong. Allowing what you want to change; keeping what you desire in sight and working constantly towards it without letting yourself feel bad for not having something.
“The universe unfolds as it will.” Which is not to say that we can’t have some effect on the outcome, the manner in which it unfolds. But to ascribe to ourselves more power than we have over that in our surroundings over which we are powerless is to ask for blame and guilt unfounded.
Where to draw the line between what we have in our hands, and what is outside of our reach? Who really knows the difference between the two?
There’s no longer time to be tired of this push, to question why some of us are handed one fate while others get what we wish we had. On some levels, there’s not really any more time to ponder the reasoning behind it all, as I spend so much time doing; except maybe that understanding the foundation of it all makes the end result easier to guide.
A hearty “le fucking sigh” resounds throughout.
Alright, I’ve seen some strange search results in my stats before, but this one is… well, I know what post on here it will pull up, but I wonder if that’s what people are looking for when they type “man horse colon intestines farm seattle” into Google.
Not just one of you, either.
There are a number of you looking for the story of a prolapsed rectum.
And finding it here.
Yes.
Merril Bobolit. There. I said it.
Not Quentin, not Matt, not Liz. Merril Bobolit.
If I’m wrong — what the hell, I’ll take next week off. That’s how firmly I believe my prediction.
What better tribute?
Thanks to you, my oldest friend,
I am Snot Faucet.
Macabre Santa display in NYC draws stares – Peculiar Postings – MSNBC.com:
Kathy Willens / AP
A New York couple�s holiday display includes a 5-foot-tall Santa holding a bloody doll�s head. The couple says it�s a fun way to comment on the commercialization of Christmas.”
Why would you feel the need to defend this? It’s brilliant on it’s own, thank you.
Stolen from ebay, but only because it will disappear too soon…
Yes, from the deranged mind (I prefer the term “Mad Genius”) that brought you the Flying Spaghetti Monster Dildo Cozy, comes a new evil. A new evil who will keep your tentacle warm while he waits for the stars to align.
100% acrylic, the Great Old One is suitable for those with wool allergies, and is technically washable, if relatively fragile. Putting him in a pillowcase, although it’s an insult to the Elder Gods, might be appropriate.
This is a one-of-a-kind art piece, so I will not be making more. Get it now, or you’ll have to wait until he comes to eat and enslave us for a second chance.
IA! IA! CTHULHU FTHAGN!!
Thanks to Scott Ross:
And then there’s the moment about 3/4 of the way in where it takes a seriously surreal turn…
This goes a long way to explaining to me why all the athletes are thanking Jesus for their 14 yard touchdown receptions or 5 yard end-arounds.
Do you think He started out as coach, though, or did he have to work his way up the chain?
And what sorts of scandals would He find himself accused of if he applied for the position at Alabama?
Do you imagine that even He might not be favorably compared to the Bear?