Friday, August 26, 2005
Hurry up and go crazy already
The following rant/rave/bitch/moan/whatever-you-want-to-call-it is just that: Whatever You Want To Call It. Life is actually pretty ok in Cooterville, so not to worry. It's simply astounding, however, how life's mundanities (yes, I realize that is not a word... even though you know exactly what I mean) can, and will, gang up on you in a strange concentration of absurdity. SO. Iffen ya read the following, do so with a grain of salt, at least half a brain cell (just so that you're one up on me), and with the understanding that the absurd and the mundane, while sometimes benign, can also have a very bitter edge.
Yeah... trust me. Ya don't wanna? Bite me, then. Pinch me. Something. Tell me this is real and that I'm seriously not going bonkers.
In lieu of any feedback telling me that I am, indeed, quite sane, I know I'm not. Which is to say: I must be. And if that makes any sense to anyone, then may baby Jesus help you for it sounds like you may be having one of 'those' weeks, too.
Contemplatin' the big picture. Seein' the small one. How do you get those two views to coexist? To make any kind of reason? When does 'wishing for' and the 'helping it happen' just make it BE? I don't mean for this post to come across as an endless jumble of rhetorical questions, but for crying out loud, people... when the fuck did life itself become such a Sisyphean effort? **pardon my sailor mouth, if you please**
If anyone out there can tell me WHY we work jobs that are not fulfilling, WHY we live our lives according to the rules and regulations set before us, WHY in the hell we don't do WHAT IT IS THAT WE REALLY WANT TO DO... well then, bend over so I can smack you on the ass and call you Charlie. Because if any of the answers have to do with money, expectations or fear, that is a rhetorical answer I don't want to hear. However, should any of you have a more insightful, more colorful answer to share, I'd sure like to hear it.
Yes. I am frustrated. Does that come across in a vague or dulcet tone?
I know I've made promises for a funny post. I really will write it one of these days. Just needed to get some of the coal outta my belly first. Thanks for reading.
Yeah... trust me. Ya don't wanna? Bite me, then. Pinch me. Something. Tell me this is real and that I'm seriously not going bonkers.
In lieu of any feedback telling me that I am, indeed, quite sane, I know I'm not. Which is to say: I must be. And if that makes any sense to anyone, then may baby Jesus help you for it sounds like you may be having one of 'those' weeks, too.
Contemplatin' the big picture. Seein' the small one. How do you get those two views to coexist? To make any kind of reason? When does 'wishing for' and the 'helping it happen' just make it BE? I don't mean for this post to come across as an endless jumble of rhetorical questions, but for crying out loud, people... when the fuck did life itself become such a Sisyphean effort? **pardon my sailor mouth, if you please**
If anyone out there can tell me WHY we work jobs that are not fulfilling, WHY we live our lives according to the rules and regulations set before us, WHY in the hell we don't do WHAT IT IS THAT WE REALLY WANT TO DO... well then, bend over so I can smack you on the ass and call you Charlie. Because if any of the answers have to do with money, expectations or fear, that is a rhetorical answer I don't want to hear. However, should any of you have a more insightful, more colorful answer to share, I'd sure like to hear it.
Yes. I am frustrated. Does that come across in a vague or dulcet tone?
I know I've made promises for a funny post. I really will write it one of these days. Just needed to get some of the coal outta my belly first. Thanks for reading.
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Who dat snappin' back? |
Good goddamned question.
And one everyone I read seems to be asking this time of year. Winter is coming, and with it the death of the year. We're all feeling futile.
Thank God for distilled spirits.
I haven't even started on your sheep yet, but I have bought the yarn. Maybe I should come see you in advance, for the hell of it. I could get puking drunk and crash on your couch.
And one everyone I read seems to be asking this time of year. Winter is coming, and with it the death of the year. We're all feeling futile.
Thank God for distilled spirits.
I haven't even started on your sheep yet, but I have bought the yarn. Maybe I should come see you in advance, for the hell of it. I could get puking drunk and crash on your couch.
Mush, darlin', you'd HAVE to get pukin' drunk to even WANT to sit on my couch. Er, Gus's couch. But hey: DO IT!! Get outta the house and let Brett take care of his own self for a bit. Let's have a blow out!!!
Btw, I bought a house today...
Btw, I bought a house today...
HA! call me chuck if ya like.. but slap my ass at the risk o losin yer hand...
i HEAR ya sis; and share my hardearned wisdom.
Live how you wanna LIVE baby! Magzstyle! my rules? NO rules. Life is short hun.. ride it hard and put it away wet. love ya sis
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i HEAR ya sis; and share my hardearned wisdom.
Live how you wanna LIVE baby! Magzstyle! my rules? NO rules. Life is short hun.. ride it hard and put it away wet. love ya sis
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