I don't want someone shoving his views down my throat, unless they're covered in a crunchy candy shell.

I've been mulling over a few choice questions that have been forming in my head, kind of debating whether or not to throw them up here.
I'm cautious about forming opinions about my beliefs because once made, they stick. I guess I don't like the idea of being blown about by popularity.
I've been wrong more than once. Like recently.

Anyhow, my point being, every time I venture forth to write, these billowy thoughts overwhelm me and I retreat into my smoking jacket and lounge chair with a pipe clamped between my teeth.

Only I don't smoke, or have teeth.

I have also decided to put up a daily bonne bouche of the people around me. Because (spoken in a hushed whisper, curled under the table) "they's crazy".
And I prefer writing about others.

Chelsey sings: "Tell me what's yo' flava, flava." (that doesn't help)
Seth likes to eat Fire Cheetos with a hint of lime.
His sister likes Red Hots and Tamarindo.
What's wrong with this picture? Their taste buds have been warped by Marauding Mexican Malganus's.
That's what.

I will never fit in. SOB.



I found these pictures from WS. Por your viewing pleasure, mes amis.

I guess I need a camera so I can stop being a theifer.

Read it and weep, darling.

Me: played by Me.
You: acted by You.

Behaved: ironicly.
Forgave: mostly.

Because: all that I wanted was You.
Forget: all that you needed was Me.

exeunt Me.

In my closet. A ratitos' tail.

I woke up on a Tuesday (a triumph)last week, 11ish as is my usual when I go to bed at 3ish (which is also my usual), feeling that Moving Bug Itch.
I'm still not sure which part of my body it resides in. After much diligent research I can tell you which body parts he does NOT reside in but not much else.

I stumble over the cardboard boxes and clothings littering my bedroom floor following the sound of laughing voices and chitter chatter.
(One of my morning dilemnas: Which caffeine delight to choose? Mate or coffee? Tantalize or Taste? I say, it keeps me Habit Free!)

This disturbance, as it turns out, belongs to the Packing Party!!! A branch off of the North Pole Dwarves and The Keebler Elves. A small group of Vodka and Sprite sipping ladies have clustered in one of the bedrooms to celebrate the century old tradition of Parting and Packing and Parlaying.

I have no choice but to join in.

Drinking at 11 you say!!? Inhumane! Sozzled! Phthlumption!
Say what thou desirest but forsooth it is an uncommonly fine way to beat the by-by and sally forth blues.
(Disclaimer courtesy of Grey Moose Vodka: Mind you, this does not mean drinking in the heavy sense, but merely a finger loosener to better enable you to tape up those unwieldy boxes. Drink responsibly)

Pack and move we did.
This is the 3rd time in a year but I'm not complaining, not this time. In the short span we lived at our previous apartment the "ghetto" somehow slowly crept in and overtook it and before long I was nervous about my safety as there were shootouts and drug deals going on under our noses, pretty frequently in the last days.
And while I learned some nifty lingo, for sheezy, and I can booty shake like it's nobody's business I'm still glad to be out of that dubious territory.

This post originally started out as a prelude, leading up to some choice memorabilia found in the boxing and bagging rubbish but as it all plays out, it's not so important and the real mementos in life are the friends you make and the memories that cluster around them.

Enjoy them.
Enjoy the living daylights out of them because life is a tricksy mother------.


My Golden Boy

Hey baby,
I was meaning to get you a little card to go with your gift for your birthday (which was a few days ago). You know, something trendy with a witty little comment like:

"a big pile of money would be a great birthday gift," I thought..
but mall security yanked me out of the fountain before I was able to scrape up a respectable amount."

Because that's totally something I would do, the scrounging for change bit, not the Hallmark card.

Anyhow, you're sitting across the room watching something with Avi sleeping on your chest because he's become a total daddy's boy in the last month and you can put him to sleep so much better than I can now (growl mutter) so I'm just going to go ahead and write you my own little paragraph which you'll read in like 2 weeks from now and it'll be like your birthday all over again. yay!

Here's what I like about you: (because I love that game)
  • You're incredibly smart and a rare match for my superspeedy brain (haha, laugh)
  • You're very manly with hairy arms.
  • You're a drummer, and a good one I think with time and you make retarded drumming faces.
  • Your photography. Very into it.
  • You get me.
  • Your sense of humor. It may not be quite 'deGaalon' but not a day goes by that you don't get me to crack a smile (if not a full out belly laugh) about some witty joke.
  • You're an amazing daddy and take care of us the bestest.
  • You're spontaneous.
  • You're very handsome and don't know it.
  • You make excuses for my artistic temperament :)
  • You're sexy.
  • You're a bartender and can make me nifty drinks. Speaking of which, you can pretty much do anything you decide to. Quite a quality.
  • You make me proud.
I could keep going..

All that to say, thanks for making my life better and I hope I can return the favor this year. Happy birthday baby. I love you.


Curses, foiled again!

I'm sitting by the pool
Glass of wine - check.
Balmy weather - check.
Computer - check.
Writer's itch - check.
Battery life? Curses and double curses.

I suppose you'll have to wait to get your Nom fix.