is there honestly anyone out there who doesn't understand that bravado brings attacks? i can sit here and say that you can be mean to me and i won't be hurt. you will hear that as a challenge, and some of you will attack ... just to see if i get hurt. or i can be honest and say that i get hurt sometimes when people act like rotting armpits toward my words. when i get really hurt is when i have opened my heart in friendship and the "friend" stomps on it. i can nurse that hurt along for looooong times. i won't slam them (except maybe to make my kids laugh), and i won't immortalize them by putting their names in my blog ... my journal ... my real time autobiography. what you say gets lost with the echo. what you write is forever.
i have been living on garlic baloney. my burps smell like farts and my farts clear the room of pets, flies, any living being. my home health lady made me steak to heat and eat. i am writing instead, which is dumb, cuz i am hungry and the only one who thinks i am a great writer is ... well ... me. so dig it. i am eating the world's most garlicky baloney on "honey and egg" buns. i add swiss cheese that stinks all the way to Switzerland. no cave man ever tasted anything like this. it seriously ROCKS to be me.
i think i am old. i am irritating to get to know. and when i think of "love," i think that i don't have enough time for a woman to get used to me and comfortable being equals. i am a cantankerous old coot, if the truth be told. just the other day i told someone off. well, i thought it, so it was LIKE telling them. today they took fifteen pounds off of me. i am floating like a balloon in an updraft. the cool part is that it DOES include a euphoria. like when booze is just starting to make the room echo a little and you feel like a comedian. like that. my beloved Australian sent me a platypus. yes, i must go to the googledom and find out what to feed it and if it needs sex and whatnot. i will feed it. some other life-form will have to provide the sex.
thanks for stopping by.
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