You know I love Colorado. The idea of year round outdoor activities just fills me with warm and fuzzies. Don't get me wrong I am NOT going to participate in these activities, I just love the idea that I can. Especially this time of year, if your going to play in the Rockies wilderness then you better have survival skills.
I do not have survival skills. I was talked into hiking on a trail. I figure okay I am with people who have done this before and I am on a trail. How hard could it be?
After about one mile uphill, I was falling behind and breathing hard. I had to take a leak and I was feeling uneasy because I didn't see any port a potties. It's funny how fast water goes through you.
I spotted a cave and thought "Perfect now I'll get some relief." I was going good when I noticed I was pissing on a bear. He looked confused. Animals in this day and age are quite sophisticated. All of them have seen humans, after all this is the 21st century. Usually when animals see humans they say "Aww hell."
So I am pissing on this bear because I really had to go and I couldn't stop. He finally does his bear thing and ROOAARRS! That was all I needed to hear to start running. I headed downhill, I run faster that way. I ran for as long as I could. I didn't know it but the bear didn't chase me at all. He decided to go get cleaned up.
By the time I stopped running I was lost. "So this is how it happens." I thought. I remembered reading an article about the two main dangers of being lost in the wilderness without survival skills. The first danger is freezing by 3:00am and the second danger is getting eaten by raccoons. Really raccoons, mountain lions only eat people under 4'0" tall.
I figured there's no way I'm going to freeze to death because I am a good dancer. Dancing the way I do is hot! I use my hot moves and I'll make it through the night. About 2:00am and I am dancing the night away. About 2:50am mentally I am putting solid gold to shame but in reality I am moving in slow motion. My body stopped moving at 2:59am while I was in mid gyration, with my lips puckered to show my sexiness.
Now while I was trying to save my life with hot slow motion salsa dancing, a band of raccoons passed by. They were returning from a party at the lake and they had a serious case of the munchies. One of the raccoons said "Hey look, a human, what luck. Let's eat him." They started discussing how good the last person they found frozen in the woods tasted. Another raccoon shouted "I get his ass!" He ran up to me and bit me in the ass.
That was enough for me to jump up again and start running. I was screaming too. I ran about 100 yards when I reached a road. There was a Denny's right there. Lucky me My one survival skill saved my life. Man I can run. That is the last time I am going to the zoo.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
The Cult of Personality
It's already ten days into 2010 and nobody has invited me to join a cult yet this year. I was close, I was invited to a dinner party. Sadly the folks were "normal" and presently were not involved with a cult. I asked. I am somewhat disappointed as I am regularly solicited to join.
Cult members like the fact that I am enthusiastic. They say to themselves, that I would make a fantastic addition to their membership roster. When someone in a cult recommends me, it says allot about the quality of people who are asked and do join. So cult members keep asking, I do appreciate it.
I wouldn't mind belonging to a cult. But I have discriminating tastes. For example, I cannot join a cult that requires celibacy. I made that rule when I was fifteen and it has been in my personal cult rules for decades. My mother brought home two women dressed in white sheets. This was the luckiest day of my life. Two women wearing togas in my living room. Usually I was trying to avoid my parents guests but today they had my complete attention.
Mother had invited these wandering apostles home for supper. They told their tales of faith, and the second coming of Jesus who had changed his name to Jerry the dessert guy. All I could think of was how I could belong to this cult where beautiful women travelled the land in sheets. I was ready when they mentioned the rules... Everyone had to be celibate. If there were some woman that needed a man Jerry took care of them but the men had a higher standard. I was heartbroken, they did ask "Are you ready little brother?" Sadly, I took my adolescent tumescence and turned away. I was unaware that that would be the first of many offers to join a cult.
I was asked to join the the folks down at Jones town, and the day I was going to leave I got asked to join the Unification church. So I passed on Jonestown (dodged a bullet on that one). I was about to join the 'moonies' when Heavens Gate left a flier on my door. Scientology, Mormons, Buddhists, Hare Krishnas, every time I was asked I had prior commitments and couldn't sign on.
They all had such wonderful opportunities I just couldn't decide. Presently I am leaning towards becoming a Rastafarian because I really like their fashion sense with the very cool hats. They are not going to ask you to drink poison Kool aid or stop you from exploring your sexuality. I just can't seem to grow dreadlocks and no one has even asked me if I want to join.
So maybe its a temporary slump or my enthusiastic aura is waning. Are there any quality cults that are looking to recruit new members? I have an open mind.
Cult members like the fact that I am enthusiastic. They say to themselves, that I would make a fantastic addition to their membership roster. When someone in a cult recommends me, it says allot about the quality of people who are asked and do join. So cult members keep asking, I do appreciate it.
I wouldn't mind belonging to a cult. But I have discriminating tastes. For example, I cannot join a cult that requires celibacy. I made that rule when I was fifteen and it has been in my personal cult rules for decades. My mother brought home two women dressed in white sheets. This was the luckiest day of my life. Two women wearing togas in my living room. Usually I was trying to avoid my parents guests but today they had my complete attention.
Mother had invited these wandering apostles home for supper. They told their tales of faith, and the second coming of Jesus who had changed his name to Jerry the dessert guy. All I could think of was how I could belong to this cult where beautiful women travelled the land in sheets. I was ready when they mentioned the rules... Everyone had to be celibate. If there were some woman that needed a man Jerry took care of them but the men had a higher standard. I was heartbroken, they did ask "Are you ready little brother?" Sadly, I took my adolescent tumescence and turned away. I was unaware that that would be the first of many offers to join a cult.
I was asked to join the the folks down at Jones town, and the day I was going to leave I got asked to join the Unification church. So I passed on Jonestown (dodged a bullet on that one). I was about to join the 'moonies' when Heavens Gate left a flier on my door. Scientology, Mormons, Buddhists, Hare Krishnas, every time I was asked I had prior commitments and couldn't sign on.
They all had such wonderful opportunities I just couldn't decide. Presently I am leaning towards becoming a Rastafarian because I really like their fashion sense with the very cool hats. They are not going to ask you to drink poison Kool aid or stop you from exploring your sexuality. I just can't seem to grow dreadlocks and no one has even asked me if I want to join.
So maybe its a temporary slump or my enthusiastic aura is waning. Are there any quality cults that are looking to recruit new members? I have an open mind.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Happy New Year
2010 and I'm excited! I came up with an ECO-friendly idea regarding my new years resolutions. I will recycle last years resolutions! They haven't changed at all. I have intense pressure to lose weight, stay sober and be more productive. because I want to be thin and wealthy. By recycling last years resolution I am proving to the world that I am doing my part to lower my carbon debt. If I keep this up, I may be sorting my trash soon.
I am trying to work out to jump start my weight loss. However the lines are long right now for the treadmills. So I have to stand behind someone with a large ass and watch them walk uphill jamming to 1940 showtunes. It's 6:00 am who has time for this? I know when its my turn, I start feeling a little uneasy and have the urge to keep looking back over my shoulder to see who's waiting on me. I always end up next to the petite woman who sets the treadmill at 10mph and proceeds to run 10 miles. My feelings have become a tapestry of paranoid inadequecy along with the physical strain of moving. It is no wonder why I usually workout once a year.
Eating right means eating smaller portions. If God did not want us to eat so much, He wouldn't have made yummy food. Don't you agree? I try to eat less and when I leave the table after one serving of yumminess, I don't feel happy, in fact I feel like I am denying myself such a simple pleasure that eating is no longer fun.
I've worked out and ate like an refuge from some starving country, now I feel like crap. I do know how to make a crappy feeling better, drink beer. That's right I have to self medicate because life is too short to feel like crap. Hmmmm maybe I should change my resolutions so I don't have to keep up this charade of self improvement.
My new resolution will be; I will be the best fat lazy drunken slob that I can be for 2010. Now that is something I can feel good about doing. It will put a damper on being ECO-friendly, but there is always next year.
I am trying to work out to jump start my weight loss. However the lines are long right now for the treadmills. So I have to stand behind someone with a large ass and watch them walk uphill jamming to 1940 showtunes. It's 6:00 am who has time for this? I know when its my turn, I start feeling a little uneasy and have the urge to keep looking back over my shoulder to see who's waiting on me. I always end up next to the petite woman who sets the treadmill at 10mph and proceeds to run 10 miles. My feelings have become a tapestry of paranoid inadequecy along with the physical strain of moving. It is no wonder why I usually workout once a year.
Eating right means eating smaller portions. If God did not want us to eat so much, He wouldn't have made yummy food. Don't you agree? I try to eat less and when I leave the table after one serving of yumminess, I don't feel happy, in fact I feel like I am denying myself such a simple pleasure that eating is no longer fun.
I've worked out and ate like an refuge from some starving country, now I feel like crap. I do know how to make a crappy feeling better, drink beer. That's right I have to self medicate because life is too short to feel like crap. Hmmmm maybe I should change my resolutions so I don't have to keep up this charade of self improvement.
My new resolution will be; I will be the best fat lazy drunken slob that I can be for 2010. Now that is something I can feel good about doing. It will put a damper on being ECO-friendly, but there is always next year.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Easy as ABC
A winter's day in a deep and dark december...much like today.Years ago a question was posed to me. At first glance I didn't give it much thought. Lately I find myself thinking about it more and more. I will ask you the very same question now; how easy is love to do? Pretty simple question, but love is complicated. One dictionary had 26definitions. That means love isn't going to be very easy to do. Easy means "involving little difficulty or discomfort". I don't know about you but 26 definitions was way more than I bargained for, so I am going with this; a "profoundly tender, passionate affection". Easy takes the path of least resistance. That means if I don't give it to much thought, I can argue that ABC is easy. 123 is easy and that's how easy love can be.
Please tell me if you do not recognize these letters...A B C...Of course you recognize them they are easy! I bet not one of you struggled to figure it out. These building blocks of our language can be arranged in certain orders that create statements that are difficult to figure out. Check out this quote from Orson Squire Fowler’s pseudo-scientific Phrenological Almanac:
“Nature’s Printing Press is Man. Her types are Signs, her books are Actions.”
Ummmm okay I am not sure what that means so that is difficult to me. Not ABC, that's easy!
One more question, do you know what these numbers are? 1, 2, 3. These are the first few numbers of an infinite number line. They are the foundation of fundamental and theoretical mathematics. Some of those problems can be so complex and difficult that they inflict pain into your frontal lobes. 123 is easy. Anyone can count to three. Even if you had stumps instead of hands; left stump =1, head =2, and right stump =3. 123 is so easy that you could glance at them for less than a second while juggling and still call out the numbers. Juggling takes skill and concentration. It is difficult. 123 is easy!
Love works much the same way the letters and numbers do. Sure it can get complicated with physical and theoretical problems to solve. Love can be extremely difficult to do, especially with people you hate. With all its definitions, still the description of love isn't quite adequate. Love is so complicated, how can it be easy to do?
Look at a toddler, when its mother walks into a room. Look at two brand new lovers strolling together. They are so involved in the process of doing love that it is unconscious and it flows without effort. Some famous rock group said "There's nothing you can do that can't be done...its easy...All you need is love." I know it wasn't the Monkees...Do love by choosing to be affectionate and cheerful. It doesn't cost anything to smile. Its easy! Easy as ABC, 123, that's how easy love can be.
Happy Holidays!
Please tell me if you do not recognize these letters...A B C...Of course you recognize them they are easy! I bet not one of you struggled to figure it out. These building blocks of our language can be arranged in certain orders that create statements that are difficult to figure out. Check out this quote from Orson Squire Fowler’s pseudo-scientific Phrenological Almanac:
“Nature’s Printing Press is Man. Her types are Signs, her books are Actions.”
Ummmm okay I am not sure what that means so that is difficult to me. Not ABC, that's easy!
One more question, do you know what these numbers are? 1, 2, 3. These are the first few numbers of an infinite number line. They are the foundation of fundamental and theoretical mathematics. Some of those problems can be so complex and difficult that they inflict pain into your frontal lobes. 123 is easy. Anyone can count to three. Even if you had stumps instead of hands; left stump =1, head =2, and right stump =3. 123 is so easy that you could glance at them for less than a second while juggling and still call out the numbers. Juggling takes skill and concentration. It is difficult. 123 is easy!
Love works much the same way the letters and numbers do. Sure it can get complicated with physical and theoretical problems to solve. Love can be extremely difficult to do, especially with people you hate. With all its definitions, still the description of love isn't quite adequate. Love is so complicated, how can it be easy to do?
Look at a toddler, when its mother walks into a room. Look at two brand new lovers strolling together. They are so involved in the process of doing love that it is unconscious and it flows without effort. Some famous rock group said "There's nothing you can do that can't be done...its easy...All you need is love." I know it wasn't the Monkees...Do love by choosing to be affectionate and cheerful. It doesn't cost anything to smile. Its easy! Easy as ABC, 123, that's how easy love can be.
Happy Holidays!
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Willfullness
My three year old daughter should be in sales. She displays some very fundamental means of influence well. That and never really hearing me say "no". If I say "no" with a frown, she stops and tells me to "put a smile on my face" then proceeds with her task of influencing me.
It can be a question like "do you want to come play with me in my room?" It depends sometimes its a great time to play with a toddler in their bedroom and pulling out all the toys. Sometimes its 8:30 in the evening and the last thing in the world I want to do is play in the bedroom.
She will toddle on over to me and ask "Daddy, do you want to play with me in my bedroom?" "No baby not tonight", I answer knowing that soon this child is going to go tattle on me to her mother for being MEAN. She asks again and again I say "no". Again and again and again she asks the same question. Any chance of relaxation is gone. I can feel myself starting to cry, "why do you want to play now?"
She starts to lose her patience and yells at me,"Let's play Now!" She cannot believe that I do not like her idea of playing in the bedroom. I think that I am hearing the question from my daughter at three, a question that will cause me severe anxiety when she asks that to someone else when she is 18 years old.
What happened to the days when fear was a good behavioral tactic. I could threaten her with something...anything...I'll tell Santa not to come, but I always end up lying on the floor in my daughters room while she plays with all of her toys. I hope she starts selling.
It can be a question like "do you want to come play with me in my room?" It depends sometimes its a great time to play with a toddler in their bedroom and pulling out all the toys. Sometimes its 8:30 in the evening and the last thing in the world I want to do is play in the bedroom.
She will toddle on over to me and ask "Daddy, do you want to play with me in my bedroom?" "No baby not tonight", I answer knowing that soon this child is going to go tattle on me to her mother for being MEAN. She asks again and again I say "no". Again and again and again she asks the same question. Any chance of relaxation is gone. I can feel myself starting to cry, "why do you want to play now?"
She starts to lose her patience and yells at me,"Let's play Now!" She cannot believe that I do not like her idea of playing in the bedroom. I think that I am hearing the question from my daughter at three, a question that will cause me severe anxiety when she asks that to someone else when she is 18 years old.
What happened to the days when fear was a good behavioral tactic. I could threaten her with something...anything...I'll tell Santa not to come, but I always end up lying on the floor in my daughters room while she plays with all of her toys. I hope she starts selling.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
I better get some Long Term Care Insurance.
You know I am now middle aged. Someday I am going to get corralled into some Nursing Home. If I am out of my mind with dementia, that's going to be a good time. I will be an Id. No need to put on airs here. I won't be responsible for walking past the visitors wearing just a shirt. Now matter how much fun it sounds like to me, I am not yet that uninhibited.
Maybe I'll just be tired and want to sit all day. Park my ass on the front of the building so I can watch everybody do what they do. I hope I don't drool to much, but if I do please put a bib on me. maybe the hot nurses assistant will feed me today. Everyday is an adventure. Oh damn, its the nurse. I can't outrun her, hell I don't even want to try. I guess I'll answer the questions...not yet...not yet...no. I didn't have a bowel movement at least I don't thinks so. I turned down the laxative today, it is a delicate balance of fiber and stool softener that make a happy resident.
I had an uncle in the nursing home. He had a stroke that left him a little gimped up. He was young in the Nursing Home only mid fifties so the little old ladies wondered just how gimped up he was. I heard the ladies talking about them being willing to get past the whole left side thing and check out whether other parts were working. Turns out my uncle became quite popular. He had six girlfriends. It took him all day to make his rounds but he was always smiling and come to think of it so were the ladies.
Living to be a geriatric sex symbol, that is my goal. I think I could pull it off. Older people are just not as picky. Since we have pills that will make wood, there are some unlikely sex symbols. I am going to wear only a robe with my wife beater tee shirt and blue striped boxers underneath. I will have the black patent leather shoes and garter straps for my socks. I will have a large gold anchor on a chain for my bling. Look out Ladies!
The golden years, I just want to make sure I live them to the highest potential.
Maybe I'll just be tired and want to sit all day. Park my ass on the front of the building so I can watch everybody do what they do. I hope I don't drool to much, but if I do please put a bib on me. maybe the hot nurses assistant will feed me today. Everyday is an adventure. Oh damn, its the nurse. I can't outrun her, hell I don't even want to try. I guess I'll answer the questions...not yet...not yet...no. I didn't have a bowel movement at least I don't thinks so. I turned down the laxative today, it is a delicate balance of fiber and stool softener that make a happy resident.
I had an uncle in the nursing home. He had a stroke that left him a little gimped up. He was young in the Nursing Home only mid fifties so the little old ladies wondered just how gimped up he was. I heard the ladies talking about them being willing to get past the whole left side thing and check out whether other parts were working. Turns out my uncle became quite popular. He had six girlfriends. It took him all day to make his rounds but he was always smiling and come to think of it so were the ladies.
Living to be a geriatric sex symbol, that is my goal. I think I could pull it off. Older people are just not as picky. Since we have pills that will make wood, there are some unlikely sex symbols. I am going to wear only a robe with my wife beater tee shirt and blue striped boxers underneath. I will have the black patent leather shoes and garter straps for my socks. I will have a large gold anchor on a chain for my bling. Look out Ladies!
The golden years, I just want to make sure I live them to the highest potential.
Monday, December 7, 2009
A modern day 'gold' rush!
Isn't life funny? We have had collapses of corporate giants, failure of the revamped financial system to jump start our economy and still allot of unemployment. What is absolutely crazy is the medical marijuana business in Colorado. Dispensaries are up and running, potheads are finally able to 'medicate' with their personal drug of choice.
It has made some entrepreneurs out of the most unlikely business executives. I was talking with the CEO of an incorporated dispensary and he was pulling in greater than $24000.00 gross per week. I have heard the same things regarding other dispensaries. There is a mad scramble to sell medical marijuana. What does a dispensary look like? Very busy, administering to the needs of good citizens who prefer pot to hydrocodone for pain management or other cursed ailment that can be effectively treated by marijuana. It was interesting meeting the "caregivers". The range was professional corporation to the one man operation offering quality product at reasonable prices.
The boom proves that people will pay a premium for medical grade marijuana. If the federal government ever caught on to the money that could be made in tax revenue, they would make it 100% legal and put the pot into a category from the Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms division. Imagine Dino the neighborhood pothead, now a corporate icon. Doing what he loves to do and that is growing marijuana. He was doing it before it was legal and now that it is sort of legal, he can have some healthy plants growing without worrying about the local authorities confiscating his livelyhood. Dino is about to be a legitimate wealthy businessman.
Well we will surely see what becomes of this mad rush to wealth. Who knows maybe there will be a "pot" option for our new revamped healthcare plan.
It has made some entrepreneurs out of the most unlikely business executives. I was talking with the CEO of an incorporated dispensary and he was pulling in greater than $24000.00 gross per week. I have heard the same things regarding other dispensaries. There is a mad scramble to sell medical marijuana. What does a dispensary look like? Very busy, administering to the needs of good citizens who prefer pot to hydrocodone for pain management or other cursed ailment that can be effectively treated by marijuana. It was interesting meeting the "caregivers". The range was professional corporation to the one man operation offering quality product at reasonable prices.
The boom proves that people will pay a premium for medical grade marijuana. If the federal government ever caught on to the money that could be made in tax revenue, they would make it 100% legal and put the pot into a category from the Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms division. Imagine Dino the neighborhood pothead, now a corporate icon. Doing what he loves to do and that is growing marijuana. He was doing it before it was legal and now that it is sort of legal, he can have some healthy plants growing without worrying about the local authorities confiscating his livelyhood. Dino is about to be a legitimate wealthy businessman.
Well we will surely see what becomes of this mad rush to wealth. Who knows maybe there will be a "pot" option for our new revamped healthcare plan.
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