PSYCHO CARNIVAL

Musings, Memories and The Final Curtain For Psycho Carnival

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Tue, 05 Feb 2013 23:44:00 +0000

Weeeeeeeeeee!

Well gang,

As the title implies, this will be the last post for my blog of 6 years, Psycho Carnival. I want to thank everyone who has continuously followed the blog in the past and present. Even those who have checked in, time to time, I appreciate the support. Speaking of support, I want to thank good friends like Gary, Static, Lilpixi, Bazza, Dixie and so many others, that it would take me forever to mention here, who have supported me through the good, bad, wild and crazy times while I've created posts on the blog. I really appreciate all of you and those I haven't mentioned. Hopefully, you'll know who I'm referring to because I've visited your great blogs in the past and present. You can look at my blogroll for all others who have interacted with me on the Internet, on their blogs or elsewhere, too.

I've always been strangely attracted to odd stories and images. This goes for my preference in people, as well. For me, there is almost no more of a heinous crime than to be boring- whether it's in a blog, in a social network like Facebook or in real life.

I've seen a lot of blogs come and go on the Internet throughout my six years doing this. I've seen some really good ones stop posting and it has made me sad to see them drop off the radar in blogland. I get attached to people I really like. I'm that way with my offline friends, too. I think and I've read, too, where something dramatic will happen and they'll stop doing their blog(s) . The reasons they stop posting vary, of course. Could be a job that takes most of their time. Could be a death in the family. Could be, like in my case, total burnout from blogging. That's not to say I haven't enjoyed everyone's blogs that I've visited and commented on (or should I say rambled, endlessly, on?) And that's not to say I haven't enjoyed posting on my own blog, either, in the past. I'm just totally burned out on the whole blogging business.

Mine has always been a variety type blog. A lot of fictional stories. True stories. Some humorous subjects here. Some serious topics there. And some, maybe most, really, are a mix of emotions and topics of anything you can imagine or stuff that is unimaginable for you. One thing I've always been, however, is honest. I don't put on a superficial facade when I write. It has always been from the heart and I usually let you know when I'm just joking if I'm making something up. And I've always leaned more toward, in favor and comments, those who are similar, in some ways, to my own blog when it comes to variety, humor and honesty.

Some folks who fake it could use a shitload of the ol' "facing reality" kind of therapy. Yep. But I won't rant about that for a change. LOL.

This is my 500th post, by the way. A milestone. I enjoyed the journey, which this blog has been for me. I've also regarded this blog as being very therapeutic in letting me get things off my chest.

While being in the blog biz, I hope I've helped others with my past humorous, depressing, wise or somewhat inspiring true stories. That goes for when I've commented on your blogs, too.

I also hope you appreciate the following images. Some are political. Some I found to be funny, for whatever reason. Some you might not understand. I"m kind of complicated that way. LOL. I'm certainly no Simple Jack. Or am I? :)

The last two I find particularly humorous because you see a lot of that sort of thing (dramatic bullshit and endless arguing) on the Internet, in general, and on some blogs I've visited. I never could understand that type of unrewarding, trivial thinking on the parts of the players who participate in that stuff. But, heck no, I won't rant about that. I never rant. And I'm never sarcastic, either. Hahaha.... and so on.

I trust you've all gotten most of what I've tried to express in the past and enjoyed whatever it was I presented in words and images. It's been a privilege in getting to know you. I've certainly enjoyed commenting back and forth and exchanging ideas, jokes and viewpoints.

Who knows? Someday, I might blog again. It just won't be here and it will be, if it happens in the future, in a different style, for certain. I'll let you know if I return to the scene.

Also, I plan on writing a book (I've had this plot-line for one rattling around in my head for decades now) as soon as I catch up on books that I've had lying around, never read and fixing things around the place. The book I plan on writing will be fictional and incorporate some serious, humorous and surprising elements (especially for those who have read my stuff here).

If you want to "friend me" on Facebook, Google+ or if you want email me, let me know. I'll give you the information so we can remain in contact and continue to interact. I'd very much like that. My Facebook page is a lot like my blog. You won't see many goofy, cutesy pics of kittens or some similar shit like that... that often. Most of the time, it will be humorous pics I put on my timeline or some serious stuff. It's a mix.

In closing, I'd just like to thank all the people who have visited, commented on my posts and interacted with me on the net for all these years. I consider you my friends. Remember that! If you need my support, a laugh or anything that is possible for me to give, I'm there for you. Goodbye... for now. Any comments you make in the comment section, I'll respond to ASAP. I'll be making one last visit to all of your blogs, as well. Take care!

Aloha and mahalo!

An Arcturian's Evaluation

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Wed, 30 Jan 2013 00:23:00 +0000

Uxetar beamed aboard on his Arcturian space vessel. He would miss some of the friends he had made on Earth, during his 142nd year old study of the inhabitants on the blue planet, below, but he missed the serenity of his own home and his Arcturian companions. After 142 Earth years of observation of the human species, Uxetar had suddenly materialized on the transport platform, realizing what he would miss most about the human contactees he had associated himself with and what he wouldn't miss. His feelings, statistics and observations were all in his report.

Another Arcturian appeared before him. Ogaim was another fellow Arcturian. He was a bit smaller than Uxetar and his skin was more of a greenish hue in color. Uxetar, realizing he was still in human form, morphed into his natural form and more closely resembled the appearance of an Arcturian. Ogaim welcomed him to step closer to the holographic image of Earth which was positioned in the middle of the science room of the space vessel. Ogaim was acutely interested in what Uxetar was about to present to him and hear his evaluation.

Before Uxetar could begin to go over his evaluation, Ogaim looked at the live image of Earth and calmly stated, "Look. Another war on Earth."

Uxetar said, "Most likely the end result of a group of people saying something perceived as being negative towards another group of people and their god or idea during the present era."

Ogaim replied, "Or the violence could be over natural resources or a cover for the real reason to make war with another nation."

"With this planet's inhabitants, you can never tell for sure until you read the minds of the handlers who hold the power and hoard the money for their own agendas," explained Uxetar.

Uxetar continued, "Most of the species do not engage in violent action every day. Some of them, during different intervals of their lifetimes engage, by word or actions, positive notions, expressions of themselves and activities. They do this by helping the less fortunate by sheltering or feeding them. Holding a person's hand to comfort them. Showing signs of concern for animals and caring for them. I could go on. But this is all in my evaluation, as you will read."

"I really like the humans who are artistic and have a sense of humor, as well," Uxetar pointed out. He showed Ogaim, the senior scientist on the Arcturian space vessel, a video clip. Uxetar said, "Take this dance routine, for example. It combines both elements of human artistic expression. Uxetar giggled, aloud, at Ogaim's facial expressions as they watched the video.

This is what Uxetar showed Ogaim:

Uxetar patted his fellow Arcturian on the back and said, "Sometimes their odd and humorous antics can have you overlooking their grievous flaws. Their sense of humor and other genuinely sensitive attributes benefit one another, greatly."

Ogaim looked over at Uxetar and said, "Well, their forms of entertainment and levity have changed, quite substantially, since I was last dwelling with them nearly 400 earth years ago for my own study period. That much is certain."

Uxetar leaned over to the right and cut a long, sputtering fart. Afterwards, he stared at Ogaim and smiled.

Ogaim said, "But that form of entertainment and amusement isn't new."

Grinning for a bit, Ogaim once again regained his serious composure.

He asked Uxetar, "Now tell me about their negative aspects and actions."

Uxetar folded his three fingered hands and glanced down at his report on the table.

With a look of solemn discernment on his face, Uxetar explained, "The more generally violent types of humans might use weapons of mass destruction, in the near future, in the name of their religion or their lack of resources and/or their ideology. Also, large groups of people in a nation have been told lies, repeatedly, as well, until the lies are believed by the majority under the cover of a patriotic redundant chant and thought. Instead of doing their own thinking and giving themselves a reality check, so to speak, they will do the bidding of the great money and power holders of the world and go to war with a militarily weaker country.

Many people over many of the wars fought during my 142 years of observation there have died for incomprehensible reasons that have never really been revealed to those who fight or rally behind the fighters until a small time has passed or after they have died and been forgotten.

The money and power holders and behind the scenes corrupters "pull the strings" of many majorities on Earth, so to speak. Meanwhile, there are those who know the truth and are content with distracting themselves with being a part of a rigid system of laws, some of which, lack sense, and acceptable rules of behaviors they have placed upon themselves, their obsessions with their workplace, their idle entertainments, their electronic gadgets and more. Then you have those that absolutely don't care what is happening to them or their loved ones. Still, there are few who know the reality of their mass group situation and attempt to cause a positive outcome so all will benefit. And then you have a few Earth inhabitants who don't know their assholes from table lamps."

Ogaim looked at his friend, Uxetar and said, "One can tell you've spent a considerable amount of time on Earth, Uxetar. Your unique expressions give you away."

Ogaim smiled. Uxetar shrugged, smiled and then said, 'Shit happens when you spend so much time in one place."

Uxetar continued by saying, "One of their greatest, widely ignored threats, however, is global warming and climate change. Those who have control of the upper echolons of status, which is fueled by power and money, ultimately persuade or threaten those would could easily tell the truth of their situation and move in a positive direction, away from fossil fuel dependence and other pollutants that damage the Earth's atmosphere and create chaos with the weather patterns. They are experiencing, as I'm sure you're well aware from our space vessel's scanner and computers, volatility and more extremities in their weather during the last one hundred years."

Ogaim said, "Yes, it is extremely noticeable to me and most likely to anyone living down on Earth."

Uxetar shook his head and replied, "Yet they still choose to engage in ignorant behavior with these wars, their destructive polluting of the air they and their children breathe and the greed which induces them to erratic, damaging actions."

Ogaim stated, simply, "Uncommon self destructive behavior for such a species that has advanced technologically, throughout the centuries, with their level of intelligence."

Uxetar replied, "But not uncommon for those who possess such intelligence yet are not emotionally advanced enough to balance their technology."

"Still," Uxetar claimed, "They may unite one day when they are on the brink of extinction. We've seen it many times before with other inhabitants on an alien planet. Whether they are too late to undo the damage, change course and seriously rethink their goals and agendas remains to be seen."

Ogaim quietly replied, "One hopes they will realize what is important in their lives and unite for their own well being and divert extinction."

Ogaim reminded himself that it was against their Arcturian nature to directly change the course of another planet's inhabitants. Humans would have to learn, adapt and change on their own. In time, the Humans might embrace peace, instead of war and work together to conquer their worldwide ills. Both Ogaim and Uxetar still held a small amount of hope for this to occur.

Uxetar thought of all the accumalitive friends he had made on Earth, during his 142 Earth years there with them, remembering their thoughtful gestures, wise words, love, good humor and nodded, in remembrance and in agreement with what Ogaim had just said. The Arcturian wished them well and gave Ogaim the entire evaluation.

Crazy Joe's Internet Advice, Corny Jokes and More

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Mon, 21 Jan 2013 22:44:00 +0000

Crazy Joe came up to me the other day, while I was throwing bricks against a brick wall in an alley. He nearly made me shit a brick when he tapped me on the shoulder, suddenly, from behind. More importantly, though... Why do I throw bricks against bricks walls? Well, because, you know, that's one of my favorite hobbies and it's really just as fulfilling as engaging in silly behavior on the InterNutz. That latter of which seems to be the latest fad or sign of mental deficiency the days. Confused? So am I.

Speaking of which...

After pecking me on the shoulder, Crazy Joe said, "Man, some people are getting super loopy on the InterNutz these days?"

I said, after turning around and about to cave his forehead inward with a brick, "You scared me! I damn near smashed your fugly face in with this large brick in my hand."

I paused for a moment, realizing what he had just said before I was going to smash a brick into his skull.

Then I quickly asked, "What the hell are you talking about, Crazy Joe?"

Well, first he handed me a joke card and waited for a second while I read it. It looked like this:

I laughed. Crazy Joe laughed. Then he said, "Shit like this freaks people out on the InterNutz. Some people either do or don't get the humor of it, or they're extremely sensitive about certain language, get shitty about it or they're irate about the unimportant subject matter. Doesn't make sense regarding the priorities in a normal person's life, really"

I stood back and replied, "Yeah, it's a loopy InterNutz world out there. Some of them could use a brick to the head. But you see all kinds. Some are open minded, though. I usually hang out with folks like that. Kindred spirits, so to speak."

Then Crazy Joe gave me a typed document and said, "For kicks, I thought these up last night, after observing bad behavior on the InterNutz for a few hours."

At the top of the form was the title, CRAZY JOE'S INTERNET ADVICE

This is what it said:

* It's fucking impolite to verbally attack or call a specific person a negative name when you don't agree with him or her. If you don't agree with what they saying, just give your opinion on the subject or not- or ignore it, altogether and move on. And life is too fucking short to act like children playing an " I Win/You lose" fucking type of game. For fuck's sake! Fuckity fuck fuck!

* Do the world a favor. If you're on a social network site, stop telling your friends and family every petty detail of your life. Throw in a funny image every fucking once in awhile, fuckers! Break up the monotony of detailing your everyday routines to one and all. Talk about anything you might find humorous! Share the gift of laughter, fuckers! Or talk about something interesting, for a change! You find that people just as open-minded as you are, are worth getting to know and enjoy interacting with, no matter what type of website you're spending time.

* If you're too fucking overly sensitive to look at what you believe to be an offensive image, get thine ass off of whatever website or social networking page you're on and move thee fuck onward with your sensitive self. Remember: It's A-Fucking-Okay if you don't care for the humor you happen to see but if you don't like what you see, your eyes can always look elsewhere.

* Hey, don't start fights between friends or family while you're on one of those social networking sites, either! If you've been given a couple dozen clues that you are prone to do that shit, then I highly advise you to take your nasty ass, trouble-making self to this one alley I know of, to get a free complimentary brick thrown at your fucking loopy head.

* And please stop with the positive images with the light weight words that are supposedly uplifting and are supposedly "magical" in their ability that when you first lay your eyes on them and read them, you are, all of a sudden, a completely changed fucker for life. Reality doesn't work that way.

I read the rest of what he had typed and while nodding my head, in agreement, I handed the advice list back to him and I said, "I agree with a lot of what you have to say here, Joe, but, as I've experienced in the past before, you can't change people, no matter how badly they need to change for the sake of harmony and tolerating others ."

Joe looked up at me and calmly replied, "But you can, sometimes, provoke them to open their minds and think. And that's a start."

I said, "You may have a point there."

Crazy Joe said, "I believe I fucking do."

Then he smiled, noticing the grin on my face when he knew I got the joke of him repeatedly saying the word, "fuck" or "fucking" in every other sentence in his document or the present conversation to make a point that only the sharp minded would get.

I handed Crazy Joe a piece of paper that I had printed off my computer from a friend's email he sent me the other day. I explained to Crazy Joe that my friend is really into corny jokes. I said my friend knew there would be some on there that he knew would make me groan because they were moronic or silly. But, I added, he was also nice enough to add a few jokes that he knew would give me a decent laugh, depending on how they were worded.

I asked Crazy Joe, "Do you think these corny jokes would freak certain people out?"

Crazy Joe looked at my piece of paper I had handed him and saw these jokes, along with an image down at the bottom. Here they are:

What did the lamp say to the man?

Nothing. A lamp is an inanimate object.

Two men walked into a bar. The third one ducked.

What kind of shoes are made from banana skins?

Slippers.

What kind of rooms have no walls?

Mushrooms.

What happened to the boy who drank 8 cokes?

He burped 7-up.

Dave drowned. So at the funeral, we got him a wreath in the shape of a life jacket. Well, it's what he would have wanted.

A priest, a rabbi and a minister walk into a bar. The bartender looks up and asks, "What is this?" Some kind of joke?"

What does it smell like to go down on an eighty year old woman?

Depends.

A daughter asked her mother how to spell "penis."

The mother said, "You should have asked me last night. It was at the tip of my tongue"

Q: How do you make a baby float on water?

A: Try taking your foot off his head.

I saw a woman wearing a sweat shirt with the word, "Guess," on it. So I looked at her and asked, "Implants?"

Crazy Joe laughed and laughed, even after he finished reading the jokes. I thought he was going to just die from sheer laughter. To save him from the possibility of laughing himself, literally, to death, I suddenly threw a brick at his head. I think I saved the man's life. :)

Having Fun With Those Absurd Agree and Disagree Applications

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Mon, 07 Jan 2013 01:56:00 +0000

In this economy, employers should be asking the right questions. If you're one of those people applying for work, I can help you, if you ask, nicely.

While helping out a friend fill out a resume and some job applications the other day, I was starting to understand why she was getting so frustrated. Those applications, online or offline, that ask you if you strongly disagree, disagree, neither agree or disagree, agree and so on can be confusing and, to be brief, just plain stupid .

There were a lot of applications like that, that she was filling out. Quite a few of them didn't ask much information regarding what skills she had or where she worked all her life. Most of the time, the way the questions were asked, were more of the confusing psychological type that wanted to play a game of absurd therapy with you instead of being direct and asking pertinent questions.

I liked it better, in the old days, which wasn't that long ago, really, where the employer would ask you for recommendations from other people. Some cared if those came recommendations from family or friends or people you had worked with and worked for. Then they would ask for your work history. All of this, to me, is acceptable. You know. Where have you worked? How long, did you work, at each place? You would make a list of your skills, too and check a page or two full of those questions, pertaining to your skills. Those questions, I can truly accept and understand. I can get behind logic like that.

And a lot of these "Strongly Agree and Strongly Disagree situation and feelings questions" leave out important details and/or a lot to be interpreted wrongly, too.

You can try to convince me, if you want to waste your time, that the employers, these days, have you fill out the stupid agree and disagree questions for reasons that would make them believe you're not a thief or a sociopath or any other type of undesirable person. I'm just not buying into it. Be straight or be gone, moronic employer! That's what I'd say to those employers looking to play psychological games with an application and the applicant. I don't play games with people, no matter who they are.

This friend wanted my help in trying to figure out the confounding questions, sometimes, and I helped before I got to the point where I wanted to bang my head on the wall, in frustration. I think we ended up looking at four of them in one day and while she filled them out. Now, that my friends, was really work.

People are going to lie, most of the time, anyway, with these silly multiple choice questionnaires. There are no guarantees in this society that someone isn't going to go from behaving normally to going, suddenly, batshit crazy and kill everyone in a office cubicle or in a warehouse. People know what their potential employer wants to hear or see when they check off on the options on the forms, electronic or not, given to them. If they don't, I neither strongly agree or strongly disagree that the applicant will be living in their parent's basements all of their unnatural lives until their bones turn to dust mites. Depends on the person's work habits and what place they want to get hired on as an employee. Depends on a lot of things that would take a lifetime to explain, in truth.

This is where ordinary human robots can be found. The typical office. The supervisor is your overlord. He demands obedience or else.

Still, all in all, I'm looking to hire some people for my next project. But first, you will have to pass a test involving cage fights with genetically enhanced pythons with 7 inch fangs, lovable, smart-mouthed teenagers that scream and foam at the mouth, if they don't have the latest smart phone on the market, along with a team of circus midgets, riding ferocious polar bears.

You'll all be put in a cage to prove your mettle and that you're qualified for the job. If you survive, you will be asked to fill out (this is just a sample) the following questionnaire. There are a lot of similarities between this one and the ones my friend encountered and had to fill out. Believe me!

_________________________________________________

I'm a team player most of the time.
_Strongly Agree
_Strongly Disagree
_Neither Agree or Disagree
_Agree
_Disagree

You will listen to a co-workers complaints, about a task given to them, then try to assist them.

_Strongly Agree
_Agree
_Neither Agree or Disagree
_Disagree
_Strongly Disagree

You wish to sell a product that a customer thinks may be over priced. They're wearing a Batman mask and a pair of ruby red slippers (a la Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz). You try to convince he or she to buy the coffee maker.

_Strongly Disagree
_Disagree
_Neither Disagree or Agree
_Agree
_Strongly Agree

A supervisor gives you lengthy criticism over the way you spoke to a customer on a Thursday afternoon, around 9:24, when the workplace had been suddenly overran by deadly spiders and wicked prostitutes. You say, "Thank you, sir. I enjoy pasta," in response.

_Strongly Disagree and Strongly Agree
_I'm not sure if I stopped my car, completely, at that one stop sign this morning
_Zena: The Warrior Princess, could probably answer this question. Something just tells me this to be true.
_Agree
_Cantaloupe

Your day's work has been destroyed by a fire but your employer wants you to start back from scratch and will not be pleased until you finish the work. Seeing that you're about to pass out from the fumes, she offers you a carrot. A coworker later walks past you, pinches their hardened, fully erect left nipple and continues walking, while singing a show tune.

_Strongly Agree
_Strongly Disagree
_Strongly Have a Boner
_Strongly Eat the Carrot
_Strongly Shake Your Head and Wonder How You Got Here

Your co-workers and employer throw you a surprise birthday party on company time. You open the gift that everyone but that one tight ass chipped in to buy you. It turns out to be a worn out, heavily dented, wooden, sticky pencil. You show an excited exuberance, toward the gift, that would put Las Vegas showgirls to shame, by comparison.

_Strongly Agree but do it with a side of Small Disagreement mixed with obvious apathy
_Agree
_ I want to make up my mind, but I'm missing the instruction booklet
_Disagree
_I will or I won't go on quest to find rainbow colored unicorns that enjoy consuming carrots or placing them deep in their anuses

This must be you, on any given work day.

One of your handicapped co-workers asks you for a favor, giving you the correct amount of money for the task, that involves you getting them a soft drink from the vending machine.

_Strongly Disagree to scream at them like a horrid banshee from the depths of hell
_Strongly Disagree to drool at the corner of your mouth but Strongly Agree that they should rise from their wheelchair. Why? Because you have given them the power to become healed and heal the sick and impaired, themselves. Your magic is just that strong. Wow.
_Tickle their belly, instead.
_Strongly Agree to cut a fart.
_Strongly Agree that, sometimes, crazy people and their erratic behaviors just aren't worth putting up with, no matter how bad you want the money, the job or to get along with "your team" or your fellow species.

This is just a small sampling of my application questionnaire. I wish you luck. You will be contacted, if you are to have an actual person to person meeting with me, with even more insipid questions asked, when I feel like responding to you. Good day!

Joe Cuts His Losses (Or Would That Be... His Leeches?)

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Wed, 02 Jan 2013 01:00:00 +0000

I've never been one for making New Years' resolutions. I don't believe you should make them. Very few people are successful at meeting this big, grandiose goal that they've substantially hyped up in their heads, at times, that when the goal fails, they either, if they got any stamina of mind in their selves- they might get back up again to try make the goal happen or more often than not- they just quit trying. If you don't have this super willpower and forward thinking frame of mind, it just isn't happening. Then you feel like crap for awhile, maybe.

I've been successful at doing what I set out to do a number of times. Quitting smoking was one of those things. I might have one or two with a family member, once every six months, but really, it's no longer a habit or desire. Every so often, when I see somebody with me, normally a family member smoking, I might have one.

In my defense, I don't buy cigs and I don't get to see these family members often.

Oh, for Christ sakes! I'm going crazy with guilt. AAAAAHHHH!

Must be that dreaded Catholic upbringing. That's what my friend, Steve, suggested about me once. LOL. He's Catholic, too and I think he might have fun with that, too.

I also don't go to church and I enjoy eating cereal while watching animal porn. I think I saw "Kellogg's Corn Pops" coming out of a monkey penis, while watching a DVD, while it stuck it's dirty dingus in the nostril of a buffalo. Oh, the shame! Of course, the final result is a bunch of sticky tissues in your hand. More shame.

I also don't like to see these fucking positive affirmation images all over the place on the net and in Facebook, in particular. You can't solve your problems, instantaneously, or become joyful and content by seeing one of these things. If I would ever feel like I've been cured of all or some of my problems or negative feelings by being a completely sold customer on whatever nilly willy images and words I see, I'd think myself to be a drooling moron with ticks and spiders in his pants.

Then I'd have a career in show business! :)

Gosh, I feel better already!

Please, for the love of all that feel they must have pouty lips, get realistic and and come back to reality for a visit. Everyone's insipid positive affirmation images on Facebook give me the runny shits.

But I was watching a news TV program, this morning and these two advisers, that had fields in psychology, were offering this advice about resolutions some people make every beginning of a new year:

1- Make your resolutions proceed in small steps. For example, set your goal to be accomplished in two weeks. If you get past the two week or two day or any other short maker of time, add more time to the resolution.

2- If you're overeating or overdoing anything, do what ever is giving you pleasure but do it in increasingly smaller increments. For example, instead of eating a horse trough's worth of fatty barbecue ribs, today, trying eating a meal that can be fit on a plate and then continue decreasing the amount of food or changing over to something with lighter calories. Then, go from there.

They said more but I can't remember the rest. Maybe if you insert your genitals in a old wooden mouse trap and the bar comes down hard, with a loud crack, it will magically come to me. I'm not asking for much, I believe.

Wait a minute... Oh yeah... #3- Forgive yourself if you fail with meeting a goal, regarding your resolution- but realize the bigger failure is to not try again.

Right now, I'm going to change the subject. I'm boring you. I can tell. You're doing the droopy head thing you're doing. :) Yep.

Here's a positive affirmation pic to pep you up:

I swear I don't know what a 'Mexican Microwave' is. Is that anything like a monkey when he spurts Kellogg's Corn Pops from his penis???

Let's say I've had a conversation with a guy named Joe. Joe is a guy who seems well adjusted and well meaning. He has a great sense of humor. And he's real. Yes. He is a real Joe. His cup runneth over with Joe, even at this moment. Imagine that!

Let's say he's just really real.

We got together at a fast food joint and talked for an hour. Joe's a friend that seems to listen. And he's not very judgmental or an annoying constant advice giver that has a degree in making assumptions (unless it's asked for... the advice that is) unless he's talking about self-serving, wealthy political groups. With these assholes, he's quite judgmental.

Joe said he has been getting so much frustration, verbal abuse and out of control anxiety from a certain relative for years. Ever since a certain tragedy, involving Joe's mother, is concerned, Joe's father's mental state has gotten, admittedly worse, in the last seven years, due to his Dementia and a series of possible mini strokes, but he also suffers from depression. He waves away help with that last one, of course. All of this is unfortunate and for a long time, Joe, his sister and his cousin would do anything for him, almost. Instead of seeking help or trying, just a little, to keep his verbally abusive and erratic behavior in check, Joe's father, he explained, just lets go at whoever is near him, unleashing all of his anger and bitterness at those closest to him.

He does it to complete strangers- anywhere.

Joe's father was leaving candles burning at the place for where Joe's mother and father were living, after his mother had passed. He also left on, for hours, the oven and stove, lights in the rooms, electrical things one would turn off in an acceptable amount of time and more.

Btw, Joe also mentioned his father was finally put in an assisted living place and finally-FINALLY, AFTER YEARS HAD GONE BY- Joe's dad had his car keys taken away due to wrecking his car into someone. He had wrecked into a guardrail a year before. Luckily, the woman in the other car, that I mentioned and Joe's father weren't hurt in the incident but it was the final thing that got his driver's license taken away. It wasn't the fact that five doctors said Joe's father shouldn't be driving. It wasn't the fact that he went walking through a blizzard across the hills and valleys, alone, for a couple miles, to have a big mug of beer at a bar to wash down his many medications, either. Any of this could have killed him and then there was more he wanted to say but I cut him off, at one point and I said, sprightly, "Always look on the bright side of life, dude."

Of course, that quick bit of advice picked him right on up. Whoopee!

Now, Joe said, his father doesn't try to make real friends where he lives. He blames the kids for everything. Talks about dying whenever he wants attention. Talks about being betrayed. This, Joe pointed out, wasn't oozing out of his Dad's pores just because he suffered from Dementia or mini strokes. He had been verbally abusive, sometimes physically abusive, since Joe was a kid. Now it was a hundred times worse, he noted. He wasn't grateful for all the doctor visits we had to take him to or the visits where we would take him out to eat. Just about anything wouldn't please him. And Joe says, that sometimes, you just have to cut your emotional leeches.... or losses (if you can call them that). Especially when they make you stutter.

Joe stutters when he's in anxiety-induced situations or if he thinks about his father or grandmother too much. Joe said his grandmother could suck the goodwill, happiness and patience out of you, too. He told me that, even though I could see that was obvious, from his pale, defeated appearance, when he spoke of his father or grandmother. And now, he said, his stuttering words come popping out of his mouth whenever he's in any kind of tense situation. And don't get him started on his insane cat that eats paper, cardboard, meows like a demon and chases imaginary enemies. Joe won't finish his grilled burrito. He thought his new cat might be the devil, he jested and left that subject alone. He stuttered a bit, though, and some wilted lettuce slipped out of his mouth.

He shook his head. Years of trying to please and make negative people content had nearly drained him dry. Though, he said, often enough, that he had told his father about what his father was directly doing to him. All that Joe's father knew was what was bothering himself. He didn't ask about Joe's many maladies, recent test results or how things were going, in general, on his end.

I told him, "Yep. When those people you are closest to, know what they're doing and show that they don't give a flying fuck about your good mental health, it's time to be guilt free and go forward. Let the negative parasites dwell in their own muck. You tell them, 'I need a nice big break from you, apathetic fucker.'

Then I told Joe I was kidding on that last part but it made him laugh, anyway. Want to know a secret? I was serious on that last bit. :) Joe badly needed some laughs. Any kind of joy, actually, was what he was lacking. Other things were bothering him, too, he said, but he thought that as long as he had the will to push forward and not get stuck in the muck, he would be fine again.

Being stuck in the muck, physically or emotionally, really sucks.

Joe said he would like to think of the way his father used to be and reflect on that. For a long time, he admired his father and respected him. He said he still does, especially when he isn't around him these days, for the most part. Funny how that works, I thought. Or not.

Then he got a phone call, at the place we were eating. Joe took out his cell phone and asked, "Yes?"

It turned to be his father, wishing him a happy new year, Joe later revealed and they had talked for a few minutes, without a verbal confrontation. A small and pleasant miracle. Joe was instilled with happiness once more. Joe didn't stutter for the entire night. Towards the end of the evening, he did say he was going to keep certain people away, at arm's length for his own well being, for the good of his own mental health. at least for a lengthy period of time. He said, after all, he wasn't a complete or final quitter- on anyone or anything. He advised his sister (and in a roundabout way, his cousin) to do the same when it came to his father and taking breaks from him or others. He upsets them, too, but at different levels.

Joe pointed out that his anti-depressant medication, anti-anxiety medication and those wonderful, supposedly uplifting, stupid, fucking positive affirmation pics and words aren't miracle workers. I nodded my head, in agreement and then replied, "You've got that right."

Joe suddenly stood up and shouted, "Happy New Year!" to everyone at the restaurant and in the blogging world and wished everyone a peaceful year, ahead.

I looked back and gave everyone the finger when Joe finished with his sickeningly sweet gesture of good will. My New Year's resolution, this year, is to be really nicer to people.*

*wink

Just kidding. HAPPY NEW YEAR! Take care.

The Apocalyptic Holiday Parade

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Tue, 18 Dec 2012 04:43:00 +0000

If you're unfamiliar with some of the characters that have been featured on this blog before or you just want to reacquaint yourself with them again to better understand the following heartwarming holiday story, just click on the following links and enjoy!

For another story about the mysterious Intenso, click here:

The Incident at St. Mary's

For stories regarding Asmodeus, click any of the following links:

Auditions For The Circus
Second Round of Auditions For The Circus
Asmodeus' Astounding Circus

For lovely adventures involving Toadie, click any of these links:

Toadie in "Happy Anniversary"
Toadie in "Road Rage Spectacular"
Toadie in "First Love"
Toadie in "The Christmas Trip" (Part One)
Toadie in "The Christmas Trip" (Part Two)
Toadie in "The Haunted Bordello" (Part One)
Toadie in "The Haunted Bordello" (Part Two)
Toadie in "The Haunted Bordello" (The Final Chapter)

And now, the final story involving all of these wonderful, fairy tale like characters.

Brandon and his family are at his house, enjoying video games, talking about the economy and pulling food from bags. The family pet is also busy, in the corner of the living room, licking his pecker like a lollipop.

Brandon just came from the grocery store with his Dad, Mom and dog, Skipper. Then he, while putting a jar of peanut butter on the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet, heard what he thought was a marching band, just down the street. Curious as to why there would be one, especially on this day, around Christmastime,
the twenty one year old man went outside the door, turned and saw what was coming his way. Behind what was coming his way, was a cloud.

This was no ordinary cloud. The was unique. It was a deep crimson red cloud that was raining blood from it. Hot blood spattered the ground and street below, erupting from the cloud in wave after wave. Steam rose up from the asphalt of the ground and soon, even from where Brandon stood, he saw the blood was eating away the street as if it were acid. Even the ground beneath what was once road was eroding into nothingness, leaving a wide trough of burnt dirt.

This cloud crackled with a horrifying sound that Brandon thought was a raucous mix of laughter and thunder. It scared away almost all of the animals. Dismembered body parts rained down from this cloud. Detached heads busted open on the eroding, steaming street. Arms, legs, torsos followed.

Trumpets made an earsplitting noise in the air. At the front of the parade, sat the demon, Asmodeus. The demon was sitting on a throne being carried by men, writhing in agony. Asmodeus' tongue flicked out of his mouth. He began laughing. Intenso was by his side, laughing, while the band played a warped tune that began to make people come out of their houses, screaming. While screams of laughter and pain filled the air, Intenso saw neighbors staggering out of their houses.

Brandon could see the neighbors' faces then.

The neighbors watched, filled with terror, as some of the participants of the parade were wearing the blood and dead skin of other humans. Others had simply painted their naked bodies with odd human expressions and symbolism.

Dressed in black, the mysterious Intenso twisted his wrist, suddenly, and through sheer mind control, made the neighbors tackle each other to the ground and fuck like wild dogs. Afterwards, they forced tree limbs into each other's butt holes. They both howled and bled, profusely. They wouldn't stop until they had torn each others assholes apart and bled out, almost completely.

"Tree huggers," muttered Intenso.

A neighbor dog ran up to one of the fat naked corpses on the lawn. Blood was forming in large puddles around him and his wife. They had just gotten finished with reading the local paper and suddenly found themselves in the front of their houses, fucking each other with long tree limbs. The husband was struggling to breathe. Abruptly, a huge dog, named Pippy, sprinted toward the man and tore out a piece of the man's gaping butt. The dog, under the spell of Intenso, then ran across the yard, growling, with a slimy chunk of the man's colon in his canine jaws. The man watched the dog run away with a meaty bit part of his colon, screamed loudly and futilely, then shit himself in a funny sort of way, before breathing one last time.

Intenso skipped forward a bit and began to sang, gleefully...

"Oh, Susannah
Oh don't you cry for me
For I come from Alabama
With a banjo on my knee."

He then turned to the lesbian couple and twisted his wrist again. "Think you could "munch some carpet" for me?"

One of the women shuddered, seeing what chaotic, violent acts he had made the other neighbors perform. Still, one of them stepped forward, bravely and said, "You can go fuck yourself."

Intenso smiled and then replied, while twisting his wrist back again, "What you will do for me is going to give me such a hard on."

It wasn't long before the women, under the spell of the maniacal Intenso, stripped off their clothing and began to push each other to the ground. The smaller one hit the taller of the two in the face, knocking her out. She took out a small pocketknife and was about to carve up her lover before Intenso decided their deaths would be more humorous if he tried his next trick. Intenso curled his finger, forcing his supernatural powers to overwhelm the woman with the knife with thoughts that were more sinister than the ones she had before.

Everyone who witnessed what happened with the women began retching, violently. Skipper the dog, ran out of Brandon's house and enthusiastically chowed down on the steaming piles of vomit.

Towards the front of the parade were baton twirlers, swinging human femurs into the air above and catching them as they came back down. Blood poured out of their sockets in their heads where they once had eyes. Their nude, emaciated bodies contorted, every so often, repulsing everyone watching them. Their ribs would sometimes rip through their thin flesh, with blood spilling down their bodies. They no longer had the will or strength to scream.

A huge balloon animal was pulled along in the line of the parade. Even those that were lying on the ground, suffering from torment, looked at the plastic object and chuckled.

People heard Intenso, skipping along, cheerfully singing...

"I had a dream the other night
When everything was still
I dreamed I saw Susannah
A-coming down the hill."

By this time, everyone was out of the neighborhood's houses and apartments, in awe, of course, of the evil, disgusting spectacle being played out in front of them. When a few people tried running back into their dwellings or attempted using any of their electronic devices, they were instantly incinerated by the power of Asmodeus.

When one man was almost able to reach his cell phone, about to dial the emergency numbers, Asmodeus raised his butt cheek, from where he sat, cut a huge fart towards the man and burnt his victim's off of his shoulders.

Women in strange green clothing, sat on the shoulders of merry men, while the muscular men had deeply planted their hands, then arms in the women's vaginae. The women, oddly enough, wouldn't scream and only smiled to the passerby. Some even waved, as if they were on a normal parade float. Their minds, obviously, had been taken away long ago.

Brandon screamed at the living nightmare all around him. Body parts were everywhere. People were torturing and raping each other. Scenes, too horrific to describe, froze Brandon where he stood. At this point, the marching band stopped playing.

Asmodeus, the demon, raised his clawed hand, signing to all the rest who were involved in the parade, to halt at his command. With his other clawed hand, he had been munching on a woman's detached boob. Quickly, he tossed the rubbery nipple off to the side like a discarded, half-eaten gummy bear. The demon stared at Brandon, angrily and soon the young man was feeling himself slowly catch on fire.

___________

Four blocks down the road, Toadie and Valerie had just gotten married. After several years of being together, making love and going on several adventures, they cemented their relation by making their love official and on paper. They came out of the little church, full of happiness, ready to begin their lives as husband and wife.

When the newlyweds looked down the road at the carnage and the macabre parade, the mentally challenged man shouted, "Toadie is hungry for wedding cake!"

Then he farted.

Valerie looked at him, lovingly and held his hand, proud of her new husband.

Asmodeus turned his attention toward Toadie and instantly, Brandon's body ceased catching on fire. His parents came running up to their son and extinguished little flames on his shirt and pants with their jackets.

In less than a second, Asmodeus was staring down at Toadie, sneering at the apparent fool.

Toadie looked up and giggled at the smoldering red behemoth.

Asmodeus snapped his fingers, without warning and caused Valerie to bleed out of her ears and nose. Streams of blood ran down her face as she cried out.

Toadie stopped giggling.

Toadie cocked his head to the side. Intenso ran over to see what the hold up was about, regarding the parade. He thought everyone was having a good time, so far.

Intenso looked at Toadie and the demon standing toward each other, shrugged and to break the tension, the man cloaked in black garments began to sing...

"Old McDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O.
And on that farm he had some chickens, E-I-E-I-O.
With a..."

Intenso couldn't sing the rest of his verse because Toadie had quickly crushed the supernatural being's trachea and shattered his voice box with his right hand. Intenso grabbed his pulverized throat with both hands, confused and unable to understand Toadie's surprising surge of strength.

Before Asmodeus could take any action, Toadie, with lightning speed, pierced Asmodeus' chest and pulled out the demon's black heart. Asmodeus slumped to the ground. Valerie, in that instant, stopped bleeding.

Skipper the dog ran up to Intenso and bit through his scrotum, causing Intenso to wail. The dog shook his head, aggressively, clamping his jaws down on Intenso's nutsack. Soon, Intenso's genitals were being escorted off the property by Skipper the dog. The testes of the mysterious being slipped out of the dog's slobbering mouth and hit the ground.

The cloud behind the parade cleared up. No more blood rained down. No more body parts. The sun came out and the street that was there once before began to reappear again. People who had once died or were hurt, stood up, healthier than they were before the parade.

The stout, broad shouldered Toadie looked down at Asmodeus and said, "You're no different than any other tyrant. You feed off of the fear of others. You either secretly or not so secretly crave attention, fear and adulation from as many obedient people or sheep as you can gather. If more folks like me took a stand and realized they had capabilities they didn't know they had before and were willing to stand up to pieces of shit like you, you wouldn't exist in the first place. Love, courage and people using their minds for the greater good will ultimately defeat beings like you. Oh... and one more thing."

Asmodeus was gasping for breath. Toadie turned around, pulled down the pants of his tuxedo and farted directly into the demon's face. Asmodeus coughed, choking on his own retched vomit. The green, toxic gas ate the demon's flesh off of his face. The demon's eyes bulged and melted away. Soon, the demon no longer existed in this realm.

Toadie threw the demon's heart high into the air. Skipper caught it with his powerful jaws and burst the organ in his mouth.

Suddenly, those involved in the parade disappeared, completely. There were no signs that anything had transpired during the last few hours.

Toadie looked at Brandon and said, "Nothing should be assumed. That especially includes anything that breathes. Strange, evil beings, such as the one you confronted, are different, in how they appear and the tricks they can pull off- but that is really the only difference between them and the puppet leaders and ruthless dictators of the world. Sometimes, regretfully, you have to resort to violence as a last resort with these fuck wads or they will continue their reign of terror and their often successful campaign of fear-mongering."

After this was said, Toadie took Valerie up in his arms and took off in their white rented limo, toward the reception hall. This would begin a new exciting chapter in their lives. Together, in spirit and love, they would spend the rest of their lives, making each other as happy as possible.

At the reception hall, everyone drank bourbon, rum and tequila, singing and dancing. Later, old friends would tell their same old favorite stories, smoked copious amounts of marijuana and had a terrific evening of fun and revelry. It was an evening of celebration and also a time to reflect on what they could all do to improve themselves and the state of the world.

Everything, miraculously, had been set right again in the land.

Inspirations and Heroes

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Mon, 10 Dec 2012 23:46:00 +0000

Many times I believe humans use the term "hero" fairly loosely. For me, a hero is someone who saves a person's life or risks their own life for someone else. People, for example, who fall into the category of heroes would be, in no particular order: firefighters, good doctors, good nurses, first responders, EMT's and sometimes, the police, I say, somewhat begrudgingly. When cops aren't focusing on some activity that's determined to be part of the drug war and actually going after murderers and rapists and preventing people from being hurt or killed- they're not only doing their job and committing to it, but they earn the right to be called a hero. Now you get why I said 'somewhat begrudgingly' because, in my opinion, cops deserve to be called that when they are doing something beyond what I guess you could call "their call of duty."

Remember, while reading this: These are my opinions. Please don't throw the dictionary at me or pull quotes on me. :) I've nearly started lynch mobs on my blog in the past and I think if some of the comments had gotten any further, in intensity, I'd would be hopping a jet plane for Hawaii for fear of death threats. Speaking of which, I went to Hawaii a couple months ago but that was to see the TUMULTUOUS CHICKEN INVASION. Oh, and endless debates bore the crap out of me, too, but more importantly, I think those types of people who engage in eternal internet debates are for those who believe there is an argument to win or for someone's self-feeding ego purposes. Eegads! And Holy Doritos, even!

I can't, in my right mind, call an athlete a hero. An athlete just doesn't fit the description of hero for me. They can be considered an inspiration to some people, though. For those who do the hero worshiping thing toward someone who can run a ball, hit, catch or kick a ball, tackle someone, make a home run, or make a field goal, hit a puck or something akin to anything like this please take your misplaced adulation away from me as quickly as possible or I'll violently retch the contents of the little TV dinner I had this morning. I'll aim for your shoes, too, right through my magical computer monitor. The little frozen piece-of-crap dinner, I had, earlier,consisted of some type of meat, smothered with orange-y cheese. Please, no dick jokes. I'm running a monastery here, not a blog, for crying out quietly- instead of loudly. (singing) "Ohhhhh holy night, the cows are slurping upon dick cheese..." Oops... I better add a smiley face to note I'm joking about the monastery bit. Hopefully, I'm not too late.. :) There now. All better, right?

Note: Misdirection infused with humor is a useful tool to avoid endless debate.

Example: Person One might say, "Why do you always leave the dishes in the sink for more than one and three quarters of an hour when you can put them in the dishwasher?"

Person Two might reply, "Do you think that spot on your back I noticed the other day might lead to something or be the symptom of something... like a disease?"

Then, if it works out, Person One will ask for more details about the spot or try checking it with two mirrors. You can imagine how that works, right?. We've all done the mirror trick. No penis jokes, please. Or, if you're really lucky, they'll ask you to apply some kind of ointment on the spot. That's when you use gasoline, a lighter and maybe a rag on their back. But be careful! You don't want to be burned, after all. Anyway, the argument or debate may be averted when they are on fire and pushed off the balcony or into a deep hole in the ground.

Unfortunately, you can't do this on the Internet but you can use diversion techniques, with type written words- which are either subtle, shocking or somewhere in the middle. You can think of something, I'm sure. Have you ever poured yourself a cup of tea or coffee and try sweetening the tea or coffee while talking to someone on the phone?

Maybe athletes, good teachers, certainly, parents or an intriguing spokesperson inspire others to do better or improve themselves in many ways. They could inspire you to get fit, gain confidence, perhaps, view situations as an advantage and that's just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. They can also help you change your perspective for your own personal growth during your lifetime. Who knows? There are, obviously, other examples of people I'm not mentioning. But I can't, for the life of me, bring myself to call them a hero.

Being a rambler when I write, I have to control myself. If I come up with more than the allotted examples, in this case, my blog license will be revoked.

Personally, for me, however, there are people who, accordingly, could be classified, often, as "those who inspire." Like Gandhi or Buddha. Excellent examples.

Isn't it odd how people who inspire peace or love are always getting executed in the history of the Human race? Nah, we're certainly keeping up with our rapidly increasing technology with our ability to empathize and care for our fellow citizens. Right? I need to take a look outside and dream of elves, riding sparkling unicorns right about now.

George Carlin and Kurt Vonnegut have inspired me to think in comedic but honest terms. I've listened to every word from George Carlin, on albums, his books and in HBO specials and have greatly appreciated his truth and honesty and have laughed until I'm breathless while enjoying the truth of what he has said. I've read and re-read Kurt Vonnegut's books like Breakfast of Champions and Slaughterhouse Five and all the rest he's written (got his whole collection) and I've gained wisdom from his unique prose while having my laughs and deeper thoughts, all the while. I don't base all of my personal beliefs on what they have said, but they definitely have inspired me. Infusing humor and honesty. They are natural partners and can be easily swallowed in one or two gulps. No need to say what you were thinking there. You're naughty!

Also: Don't allow me to go into a bookstore! I've lived in one for four days and dined on overpriced coffee, hard cookies and crappy paperbacks.

True Meaning of What I've Just Said: I read a lot.

The band, Rush, are a progressive rock band that have been around for 44 years. Yeah, that's when they formed. In 1968. They had some popular hits in the past but for some strange reason, they're still too underrated in my book. In my book of those have inspired me, the members of Rush, who are Alex Lifeson, Neil Peart and Geddy Lee should be put right up there with the Beatles. That's my opinion. Don't set me afire! Their lyrics to their songs are absolutely meaningful, the drumming by Peart is powerful and masterful and the guitar work by Geddy and Lifeson is too artistic too describe. Plus, Geddy's singing has only improved over the years, too. For some people, his singing was/is off-putting. But not to me.

My Aunt Kay bought me the DVD, Rush: Beyond the Lighted Stage for my birthday, around October. It's an amazing, in-depth look at their beginnings, their challenges the group has faced, how they define or not define their music and the mechanics behind how they've stayed together for so long. Even if I wasn't a Rush fan, I'd find it especially interesting. Early concert footage of the band on the DVD is very cool and gratifying, too.

I love Led Zeppelin, too, for the same reasons and they inspire me. Another big influence or inspiration would be Pink Floyd and then you have Queens of the Stone Age and on and on and on. I could name so many bands you would want to break my fingers or something. What are you doing with the Molotov cocktail in your hand? Are you about to set me ablaze? It's not even Christmas yet! And I won't fit in your oven, either, unless you...

Note: Even your friends or people you see on a daily or weekly basis can inspire you in ways you haven't thought of yet. Or maybe they already have. It's happened to me. I've even refrained from belching at inappropriate times while they babble about.

But, anyway, yeah, when you think of your heroes and inspirations and the whole notion of those ideas and how others perceive their own- or not- it's something worth thinking about- until we've run amok with chickens as the Mayans predicted what would happen during the End of Days.

Strange Ads and Products of Yesteryear

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Fri, 07 Dec 2012 01:08:00 +0000

Fascinated with old advertisements and inventions of the last hundred years, I've been collecting these images and some of the stories behind them. Prepared to be educated and thrilled with this post of posts. Enjoy!

Sometime in the 1950's or 1960's (I can't be bothered with finding details or facts, of course), The Del Monte company came to a curious conclusion after testing a dozen women for three years in a locked room and with nearly no outside visitations except for the company's researchers. While using cattle prods, scientists encouraged the women that stood along a moving conveyor belt of ketchup bottles, to open the containers of tomato-y goodness with their hands and fingers.

Surprised that women had the same incredible capability of a man to open a ketchup bottle time after time, researchers concluded after the intensive study, that women could open stuff. The scientific community would never be the same again.

While opening a ketchup bottle, the typical woman will have an orgasm.

And they eat it until they orgasm. A healthy and happy lifestyle- guaranteed.

Back in the 1920's, a team of doctors came up with an exciting new way to keep people fit and trim after the eating of their daily regiment of one large bucket of lard per person, followed by the entire cleanly cleaved head of a hog. The idea was so simple that one doctor, in particular, whose name was Dr. Hugh Jass, was so ashamed that he didn't think of the miracle cure for obesity before, he decided to punish himself by hammering his penis to a tree. This action by the good doctor quickly became a fad during the day and soon, every man was hammering their genitals to trees. Of course, while engaging in this activity, it was quite common for men of that era to have an orgasm. This is where we get the word sapling. Remember that!

But getting back to the idea, this miraculous miracle cure, this amazing medical conception... Dr. Hugh Jass and his colleagues found that tape worms were the logical answer for those who were fat as hippos, dining on the bowels of baby dinosaurs and dragons.

Is that a cluster of crab louse I see on Mike's shoulder? Oh no! He may not be suitable for future dating.

Below you will see an advertisement for health rejuvenating cigarettes. Cigarettes are packed with so many vitamins and required benefits for healthy lungs, that they will often be fought over in hospitals, fundraisers and convents. As a bonus, this particular brand of cigarettes would give the customer a black eye as soon as they opened up a pack. The company would generously ensure each pack came with a contraption that would propel or spring a jagged piece of lead directly at the consumer's eye for his or her pure pleasure and enjoyment.

My best bit as a ventriloquist is the part where I can smoke a cigarette and rape this freakish looking dummy in his tight wooden ass until he screams. It really gets the crowd laughing every time. I swear. What's in it for me? The satisfaction of providing quality entertainment for my audience and having a powerful, ball-draining orgasm. Yes sir! When I smoke, while fucking my dummy, I make sure I always finish with a bang and an emptied ballsack.

Lucky consumers were introduced to a a breakthrough medicinal tonic back in the days of spaceships and high tech laser surgery. Of course, I'm talking about Grove's Tasteless Chill Tonic. Not only could it induce your body's natural nutrients, metabolism and secret turd maker to make oneself gain the mass of a wild boar, but it was absolutely tasteless and no one could resist buying large quantities of the tonic and slurping it down by the pint.

There were rumors, during it's heyday, that Grove's Tasteless Chill Tonic might have mild side effects that would cause you to die immediately after drinking it. Outraged by the company's false advertising of their product, a few protesters of that time claimed the Groves company of fraud, citing that their product would not cause their heads to blow up to ridiculously huge proportions and transform the rest of their bodies into that of a grotesque pig.

Angered, those protesters stripped off their clothing and set themselves ablaze with the fires of glory and strong objection until they were as just as crisp as bacon on a sunny Sunday morning.

This handsome young lad is wondering if someday a woman might be capable of opening a ketchup bottle.

Finally, the same kind and gentle folks who created vitamin packed wallpaper paste came up with this innovative contraption for the on-the-go rectal enthusiast. It was just the device the world had been waiting for: The Tobacco Smoke Enema.

And speaking of things for the thoughtful consumer's anus, does anyone remember this invention that saved millions of lives? Why, of course, I'm talking about The Rectorotor. Imagine the wonderful sensation the health-minded consumer would get with this sharp, spikey thing driven deep inside their brown eye, only to pierce the colon and wrap the colon around the harsh metal triangular pointed head like overcooked spaghetti doused with tomato-y goodness!

Some consumers of the day gushed, "I get a soothing warm sensation when it goes completely though my internal organs!"

Safe enough for anyone between the ages of 15 to 95.

I'm gonna grind and churn my way into your heart and through your spinal column for deep relaxing relief.

And who can forget those children of yesteryear with over-sized, slightly deformed heads that got rid of pesky cockroaches and bedbugs by simply hitting a ball with a baseball bat. Every time one of those little freakish fuckers hit the ball with a bat, a hundred cockroaches and bedbugs would perish in some part of the world.

There was a scientific explanation for this but I can't remember what it was. Wait! Give me a minute and I'll extract it from my brilliant mind. Ah yes... Women can open ketchup bottles. So there you have it, my friends!

I'm gonna let this goddamn ball hit me right square in the fuckin' face because it makes me giggle until I piss myself.

Remember when squirrel lamps, made of actual squirrels, were all the rage back in the 40's and 50's? Remember the fun you had trapping these lovable scoundrels from the rodent family in barb-wired covered cages? You would first place a homeless person's dismembered hand in the cage for bait and before you could say, "I'm gonna nail my blood-engorged penis to a sapling next Tuesday," the squirrel would hurriedly scamper, cheerfully, into the cage and begin enjoying his meal of fresh, warm human meat. Afterwards, the thoughtful consumer would thrust his sharpened sword into the cuddly squirrel's head, killing it and climaxing, simultaneously.

Indeed, those were the days!

Along with your instructions on how to properly end the life of the beloved squirrel, you would also receive bonus instructions, giving you step by step guidelines on how to lure hamsters to your asshole.

There's a certain satisfaction in going back in time and looking at all the wonderful advertisements and products we humans have produced. It can truly give one a sense of wonder and appreciation of our specie's ingenuity. Let us bow our heads now, in false prayer, giving thanks and asking Our Holy Sapling for guidance so that we may continue to find new ways to better our lives with ads and inventions such as the ones pictured and described above. Amen.

Weeping Anus

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Wed, 28 Nov 2012 23:11:00 +0000

Sometimes it happens when you least suspect it. Or, if it has happened to you numerous times, you almost expect it. It is a highly sensitive condition known as Weeping Anus. And it can strike at the most aggravating or uncomfortable periods of your life.

Note: Weeping Anus is not to be confused with the mixed drink, Weeping Jesus.

Yes, Kelly, you ask, "But how does one make a Weeping Jesus?"

Here is the recipe, my friends:

First, add a base of crushed ice to your glass, add 1 part absinthe, then gently add 1 part pear or peach schnapps and finally drip in a mere splash of grenadine. That's it. Simple and smooth. :) You're welcome.

Now, in order to make Jesus weep, that is also simple. Just be yourself.

Jesus saw that the vibrator you were using has gone unwashed for months. He worries over your hygiene. Please, don't disappoint Jesus again.

Sometimes, your anus will sweat (thus weep) when you haven't wiped well enough in the bathroom because you were in a big rush to go meet someone or you are late for a big meeting. At the point, after wiping fecal matter from your rectum, you might think you got all the feces from your asshole, but just as if a naughty elf had planted gooseberries in your pants, you are surprised to find out that you didn't catch all of it with the first half dozen wipes. Then, wouldn't you know it... that's when your butthole begins to get itchy and sweaty due to poop residue.

Weeping Anus Condition can also occur if you haven't washed your ass for a couple of days or if you emit a burst of gas that falls somewhere in the category of fart and shit.

This can be serious business if you're stuck in a seat at the opera house and you don't wish to get up because you're afraid you'll miss something really really exciting while you're gone. You also might be at that big meeting with someone important and here you are, squirming in your seat, trying to get into a position where it is the least uncomfortable.

anus

Being on a date with that special someone is another fine example of a time when Weeping Anus just isn't an option that you can entertain.

If you have a chance to correct or try to remedy the situation of Weeping Anus, you should try to always to keep a maxi pad close at hand or an adult diaper, in preparation for such an event. In a pinch, ask for somebody's handkerchief or bandanna, close by, to borrow for the rest of the day, promising to bring it back to that person, the very next time you see them. As an option, you may wash it before returning it.

I've also heard of people suffering from this condition as having to resort to picking up stray animals, like a chipmunk or Rottweiler or even a friend's pet to quickly wipe one's poop-juicy rectum. Desperate times call for desperate measures and I'm certainly not one to judge. There was one incident where I happen to be at a location where I could stick a small potato up my ass. Not for kicks, mind you, but because of the much dreaded Weeping Anus Condition. Luckily, it kept "the gravy" from coming sputtering out, only to dribble down my inner thighs, but it made for long, uncomfortable standing in one spot at my wedding during the next hour.

You can just imagine the look on my face when I sneezed, suddenly, and the potato shot out my ass, tearing a hole in my tux pants and instantly smacked into my Aunt Wanda's forehead, knocking her out in a flash in the middle of the proceedings

Hopefully, you will have soaked up most or all of the juices emanating from your irritated anus by using any of the objects mentioned above. Warning: If you don't resolve this condition soon, a rash will likely develop and/or your underwear will be completely soaked in the dirty brown sweat from your stanky asshole. You want to avoid this.

WEEPING ANUS- it's serious business

ALSO: Here are some helpful links that will help you deal with this condition:

Yahoo answers, WHY DOES THE INSIDE OF MY BUTTHOLE ITCH?

And here's the other one, HOW TO REDUCE A SWEATY BUTT

On a side topic:

Would you like to know more about The Incredible Edible Anus? Yes, there is a chocolate candy out there that can satisfy anyone's sweet tooth or desire for decadent chocolate. Click the link, please.

Together, we can combat Weeping Anus if we really put our best butt forward. Just remember, before you go out your door to ask yourself 3 basic questions:

#1- Did I really wipe well enough so that I don't have an itchy and sweaty poophole before going to work, church or a session of fucking the shit out of that special someone in my life?

#2- Should I use more toilet paper to efficiently and thoroughly wipe my ass? (Perhaps your anus has gotten bigger and you are in need of more tp to handle the situation and get it under control.) No one needs or wants an uncontrollable anus.

#3- Would installing a bidet in my bathroom help in these matters to successfully cleanse my anus? Note: Bidets are nice because they squirt warm water along the inside crack of your ass. Some models have a pulsating stream of water, gently massaging your rectum, leaving you refreshed and climaxed. MMMmmmm. Oooohhh.

So there you have it, my friends. I'm glad I could be of some ASSistance. Ha ho. Little joke there. See what I did? Yes, that was awesomely clever of me, I know.

In conclusion, go forth, spread the word of this embarrassing condition and help those in need whatever way you can. Give that needy person a thick piece of bread (white or wheat, preferably) to soak up the sweat coming from their anus! Sneakily take off your shirt and hand it to your suffering friend or complete stranger on the street and encourage them to push your shirt down into the back of their pants to absorb the butt sweat! You could also sing a prayer to Jesus! But don't mention the part where you broke that overused, hair-smothered dildo. He might just facepalm and go on to help someone with a deadly disease.

And really, he can't be bothered to waste time with a deadly disease when he can end the deep emotional and physical suffering of Weeping Anus.

How To Make Towel Animals

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Sun, 25 Nov 2012 01:21:00 +0000

Here's a video that takes you through the steps of making six different towel animals. My blog pal, Dixie, wanted to know how to do it (in the comment section of my last blog post) and by golly, I'm here to please.

You can do what you want to the towel animal after you're finished, of course. Be creative! Enjoy. Have a messy good time, if you so desire!

So, without further ado, here is the video:

Hawaiian Adventure: Entertainment, Excursion and Examples of Bad Behavior

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Tue, 13 Nov 2012 22:39:00 +0000

If you wish to read the first installment of this series, regarding our trip to Hawaii, click here. If you wish to read the second installment, click here. If you've already read both of them, you are a good citizen, worthy of food and drink and mild entertainment. If you didn't read either, I'm sorry but you'll be going to hell, where you'll be stabbed, repeatedly, in the genitals. Good day!

There was plenty of entertainment aboard our cruise ship, Pride of America. I think, on this cruise ship/island adventure, compared to our other one, two years ago, we saw more stage shows. I enjoyed them, honestly, except for the fact that my wife, who I dearly love, insisted that we sit in either the first or second rows of the theater to "get a better view."

Now the problem with sitting in the first couple of rows during these stage shows is that you are risking getting picked out to participate in some of the entertainment provided. You could find yourself involved, such as I witnessed of other passengers, in part of a comedian's act where he or she makes you look like an endearing dumbass, of sorts, or you could get almost literally pulled in, off your seat, by some muscular male Hawaiian dancers to dance with them or the Hula girls, on the stage, in front of hundreds of strangers who were delighted and relieved to be sitting away from the front of the stage. Being a shy and modest guy, I didn't want to participate and at almost every show, there would always be a performer wanting me to participate. I would always wave them away or kick the air towards them, saying "NO! NO! NO!", but they would persist. I guess I just looked like that type of guy who would be great living material for their act. A natural fool who would cause the audience to laugh until they pissed themselves silly.

Notice that they are sticking their tongues out. One of the narrators and dancers said this was the way ancient Hawaiian warriors greeted and welcomed each other back in those ancient days. Either this is true or they're just showing contempt for the U.S. for taking over their land. Nahhhhh.

Holy buhjesus! I do enough crazy stuff in front of friends at parties when I'm drunk enough.

Gratefully, they would take the hint, after several attempts to get me on the stage and coerce some other poor bastard to "join in the fun." Hell, I came to be entertained, after all, goddammit. Not be part of the entertainment.

The food on board the ship was pretty good at the buffet. Some of it, however, was a weird mix of cultural food dishes. I think they were sort of trying to please everyone that came from different countries around the world. That meant you would see a Chinese/American/Russian combination or something else that was bizarre that you could stare at for hours and never quite make out what was in it, exactly. We often went to the Aloha Cafe, which was a buffet where you could eat and eat until you puked- which I did- but it wasn't because I ate too much. I'll explain: When I eat too fast or I don't chew everything down into itsy bitsy molecules, I tend to easily get food stuck down my throat. And then, embarrassingly enough in restaurants, my breathing ability ceases and my face turns blueish and I have to make a mad dash to the bathroom so I can stick my fingers down my throat to get the food out. And no, more to drink to get the food down never works for me. Believe me! I've tried thousands of times.

In any case, one morning while we were eating breakfast at the buffet, I'm trying to quickly eat an omelet, to widen my throat a bit, in order to swallow my six different medications I take every morning. Unfortunately, a chunk of ham gets caught in my throat. My wife is away from the table, up at the buffet, somewhere. Of course, I start my ol' "I can't fucking breathe" routine and I try to make it to the bathroom on this huge ship. Remember: I'm halfway crippled because of the problems with my feet. So, there I go, hobbling and desperately trying to make it to the bathroom with food kinda going up and the back down my throat while I sweat, profusely and turn blue. When I finally make it to the bathroom, I find that it's locked and occupied and then I suddenly vomit, right on the spot. I violently puke with my hands over my mouth, trying to keep the vomit from going to where it ended up- on the carpeted floor, in front of the bathroom. Hooray! Here's a picture. Luckily, my camera was in my pocket.

Sadly, you cannot see any chunks of ham from my omelet. Congrats to me for actually digesting some part of my breakfast. Man, look at all the halfway digested eggs and cheese!

I wonder if that piggy is still alive or maybe just resting comfortably with an apple in his mouth.

We went to a luau on the island of Kuaui and that was entertaining. Free booze, a train ride through the old sugar plantations, native Hawaiians making stuff to sell to tourists, Hula and fire dancers, lots of stage performances and an all you can eat buffet. Check out the video, below.

I had five margaritas that night (they would make any kind of mixed drink you wanted) and my arm was getting kinda tired so you'll have to forgive the "shakiness" of the camera. This video is kinda long but it's entertaining. The entire stage show was really long and absorbing, truthfully. Very entertaining. Especially when one of the fire dancers dropped his fire sticks a couple of times, which you'll get to see on this video. I was hoping one of the guests would go up in flames but I don't think it happened. I only captured the last eight minutes of the performance on camera. You may want to "full screen" the video to get a decent view. Maybe not. They are doing a play or story about a couple, in ancient Hawaiian days, who want to get hitched, so to speak, but the chieftain father of the bride to be doesn't want it to happen. The end to this play/performance really made me believe I had ingested some magic mushrooms off the buffet, by mistake.

Hawaiian artist dude carving out a wooden fish of some sorts. I didn't bother him. I was afraid he might use that pointy thing on my leg or nutsack.

We went to a lot of shops on all five of the islands we explored and bought a lot of souvenirs for friends, family and ourselves, of course. I bought a tiki, for example, made out of milo wood, that represented a god that gave you strength, guidance and family protection. I bought it and talked to the local artist and shop owners, most of which were native Hawaiians and they were very friendly. We talked a lot about their crafts and the history of Hawaii.

I talked to the owner and artist of this gallery and shop on the island of Kona. She wasn't a native Hawaiian but she was interesting and incredibly talented. You can see more of her artwork below.

This is where I bought my tiki.

This is the wife and I, standing in front of a hundred year old tree, in Kona square.

Every day, the maids would come into your cabin, while you were gone and make different animals, just like the previous cruise ship we were on, Freedom of the Seas. These animals, which to me, were works of art and made completely out of towels. One day, you would see a lobster on your bed, the next day, perhaps a dog or a swan and so on. Below, you'll see me celebrating the fine work these maids do in creating these masterpieces.

Humping a towel bunny and holding onto it's ears so it can't get away. I think I "orgasmed." Is that a word?

This is the Na Pali coast. It is truly beautiful and has a mystical quality to it's landscape. Beneath the picture, you'll find a video of our ship, passing by it. There was a lot of wind that day- so you'll hear a lot of that. This video is pretty short, too.

This is one of the last big events we experienced on our week long cruise.

We had a long layover at the Honolulu airport at the end of our Hawaiian experience. This really didn't bother me. They had plenty of things to look at, such as displays that contained Hawaiian history, various paintings, cool shops and more. Naturally, I explored.

We had a great time during our Hawaiian adventure. I hope you enjoyed this last installment of the series. Aloha and mahalo, everyone!

Hawaiian Adventure: Geothermal Pools, Nuts and Deck Shots

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Sat, 27 Oct 2012 23:32:00 +0000

This is the second part of an ongoing series of posts, regarding our trip to the Hawaiian islands. Click here for the first part. We took a 7 day cruise, during the last week of September and the first week of October of 2012. Our first day and night, before the cruise, we stayed at the Marriott hotel in Honolulu.

The Pride of America cruisehip

And no, the last part of the title to this post should not be read as "nuts and dick shots." I just want to clear that up, right away. In fact, if you keep reading the post and checking out the pics, you might see puffy goat vaginae and exceedingly horny lesbian handmaidens, left alone on the farm so long, that they naturally held Goat Clitoris Licking contests to see who would win the BIG PRIZE. The prize would usually be a fresh, slippery tongue, cut away from an annoying old cow, the human type or animal.

That's why you don't hear much from Rosie O' Donnell these days.

One of the most thrilling and educational parts of our cruise to the five Hawaiian islands of O'ahu, Maui, Hilo, Kona, and Kaua'i was the excursion in Hilo.

In Hilo, we chose the Hawaiian Explorer excursion. We figured we could get the biggest bang for our buck because it actually included three events in one during the course of a six hour period. First, our shuttle bus driver, who had a very dry sense of humor, took us to Pana`ewa Rainforest Zoo and Botanical Gardens, America's only rainforest zoo, in fact.

Trees at the Botanical Gardens, mostly destroyed by lava and encased in lava rock. And you thought the fucked up tree on the right was a Rock Giant's dick? What the hell have you been smokin'?

While it's true you'll see over 100 varieties of palms, native and introduced plants, you'll also want to be careful not to accidentally go off the paved provided trails and fall down into a giant crack in the Earth. There are signs, all around the area, that say you shouldn't do that. They didn't say the giant cracks and holes led to Hell, exactly, but I did see Hitler, fuher of Germany's Third Reich, poke his head up from the biggest, seemingly bottomless opening, wiggling his nose a bit, while happily chewing the dismembered arm of Idi Amin.

Ol' Idi could be heard screaming, down below.

Hitler stopped, momentarily and said, "I can't wait for Mitt Romney to join our party in Hell. I've never eaten a Mormon before. I wonder if they're as tangy as Catholics." After that, he went back down into the tremendous hole, spiraling downward like a screw being driven into wood. I heard Idi scream again, seconds afterwards, shouting, "Now I got you sucka!"

Then I let go of the cool looking mushroom I had picked up and moved on.

All the passengers from the comfortable air conditioned bus were treated to scenes of all types of wild looking, beautiful flora and fauna. The trees, that had been partially eaten away and covered by hardened lava were spectacular. There were a lot of them. A guide mentioned that volcanoes had erupted in the late 1700's and the lava had risen twelve feet high in the area where the zoo is located. The lava ate away a lot of the trees and all of the plants, creating, as a result, deformed, rock-like encasing of trees and plants growing out of little lava rock mounds.

Don't fall into a crack in the earth! You'll go to hell, get eaten by Hitler and strapped to a chair where you'll continuously view movies of Rosie O' Donnell licking a goat's clit. Where they got those movies is a true mystery. If you solve it, you may win the BIG PRIZE!

It was bizarre and fun at the zoo. It wasn't too long of a walk and there were wooden shelters you could stop, sit and rest if you wanted. But I couldn't. Being the"nature boy" that I am, I was almost manic with delight at my surroundings. I was running around like a chicken with his head cut off, (because a lot of Hawaiian people don't like chickens, as I pointed out in the first part of this series, that very idea excites them more than seeing Rosie O' Donnell's angry red clit) and taking pictures of everything while my poor wife trailed along behind me, at times, trying to keep up. I felt bad that I left her stranded, sometimes, so would hobble back to her and ask her if she was okay.

She didn't complain and let me go off like a kid in a candy shop, snapping pics of this flower or this tree or whatever. I found that I would pay for it later during the excursion.

Do you like my groovy outfit? Great combination of tops and bottoms, eh? I can't explain the shirt but I was wearing the swim trunks because I knew we were going to go swimming and wading into a large pond that was heated up by a nearby volcano, later, during the excursion.

I think she was more impressed with the animals. Although, one of the main reasons we went on this excursion, to see the White Bengal tiger, Namaste, couldn't be accomplished. The tiger was in the animal infirmary and could not be shown. He had broken his leg the week before. Even so, the staff at the zoo, made a birthday sign and put it outside the fence of the area where he would have been seen if he was uninjured. It was a let down because he was hurt and, also, because we didn't get to see him but I understood. I thought it was nice of the staff to create this sign even though Namaste the Tiger probably couldn't read it. Maybe they gave him a million dollar robotic leg for his birthday.

A lot of people, wishing Namaste well and so forth, signed this. I'm not sure but I think all the red that you see below the tiger's neck is actually the blood of one of the zookeepers. Happy birthday, Namaste!

They had other animals and birds there, such as lemurs, parrots, Capauchin monkeys and more. Like I said in the previous post, I took somewhere between 500 to 600 pictures during the entire 8 day trip and 14 movie clips (some as long as eight and a half minutes in duration). You or really, anyone else could say I went a little overboard but I highly doubt we'll ever be able to go on another trip to Hawaii and I wanted to capture as many memories that I could. Besides, I come from a family of amateur photographers. My mom, at one time, had close to fifty photo albums. They would be filled with our trips out west to Wyoming or south to Florida or west, again, to Arizona, to name only a few, not to mention everyone's birthdays and family gatherings.

Next, our laid back shuttle bus driver, who at one point joked that if anyone could pronounce his native Hawaiian name, correctly, would win a prize, took us to the Mauna Loa Nut Factory.

This is where my wife got her revenge for me leaving her behind on the trail, at times.

On a self-guided tour, you could walk up the steps of the processing plant to see how they get the nuts prepared for public consumption. Usually, I just shave mine. But be warned: It is not for public or private consumption. I'm too ticklish for that nonsense.

We left some product for the rest of the passengers on the shuttle bus to purchase and enjoy. Yes, we both wore tie dye shirts that day. Call us nuts if you want.

Our shuttle bus driver explained, on the way there, that the workers/gatherers of the nuts had to be careful when picking a good or bad nut, proceeding to de-shell it and put them in a container that was later loaded on a truck.

We passed Macadamia nut trees and huge areas of hardened lava rock, scattered about, along the narrow road. As I pointed out before, most of the roads are partially made from hardened lava rock. If you click on the link above, you can read the story of how the Macadamia nut tree actually originated in Australia and was introduced to Hawaii in 1882.

After my wife and I quickly toured the processing plant, we made a bee line to the big gift shop.

I said, "Let's go! I hear they're giving out free samples and they have Macadamia nut and coconut flavored ice cream!"

This is where she bought out almost half the store. We bought 6 different flavored Macadamia nuts, various bags of Hawaiian coffee, souvenirs and the ice cream- that we ate at the provided tables and chairs. When we got up to the counter, I couldn't believe how much stuff we got and how much we spent. But like I was saying before, and my wife looked at me and repeated, at that point, "We should get this stuff now because when do you think we'll ever get to Hawaii again."

Ah-Ha! Revenge complete!

The highlight of the excursion for me, besides the zoo, was going to the Ahalanui Park. There, you could wade and float about in this substantially sized, natural geothermal pool that was heated to a relaxing 90 degrees F. by a nearby volcano. Heat would come out of the hardened lava walls, from holes, surrounding the pond. Most people visiting, got in. I did, despite the signs that were posted on the path going toward the pool.

One sign cautioned about it not being advisable to go into the pond if you had any cuts on your body- due to the bacteria in the water possibly infecting you. Another warned you about eels and flesh biting fish. Another sign would warn you about deep cracks at the bottom of the pool.

I couldn't care less about any of it. I was going in. I felt like I was bursting with enthusiasm, eager for adventure. To hell with any danger!

I slowly made my way into the pond. There was only one metal handrail and a few lava rock stones you could use for steps at the entrance of it. Or you could just jump in, cannonball style and let the bacteria, eels and tiny skin-biting fish have a go at you, all at once. What fun!

The water was clear, warm and inviting.

There was an older guy, there, in his late sixties. His name was Nova (like the show on the PBS station). He stayed kinda close, at times, toward the entrance. He was funny, always cracking jokes and he made friends with me, and eventually, my wife, who joined me later and discovered I wasn't being killed devoured, felt welcome and he sort of escorted us around.

We were surprised to find out Nova was from the original state where we lived. He had lived in Hawaii the last twenty years. I think he gave us preferential treatment because we were from his home state. He guided us to the ledge of the wall where we could feel the heat coming from the hardened lava walls and it's many holes. The tiny flesh biting fish were only an inch long and when they nibbled on ONLY your dead skin (mostly your heels), they sort of tickled you. They didn't pose a danger and I've heard of spas in Japan using fish like this or these exact same fish to act as a natural exfoliant to remove dead skin cells. In other words, they didn't matter to me or my wife. Nova said if they started to tickle you too much, to just wave your arms around you and they would swim away for awhile before coming back to gently feed off of you. :)

By the way, nobody saw any eels and Nova said that out of all the times he had visited the big geothermal pool, he had only seen a few of them but they didn't bother him or anyone else he knew about. Maybe they were afraid of his beard.

This is Nova, an unofficial, friendly greeter of the geothermal pool we experienced. I liked this guy. He was humorous, informative and helped me go around this boulder in the pool without breaking open my knee cap on it, tearing open my flesh and possibly exposing myself to some kind of bacteria. He had that old hippie look to him and he was one of the nicest guys I've ever met.

On the other end of the pool, you could see the ocean, quite visibly. There was a boundary of lava rock wall, separating the ocean and the pond. I took several pictures along this area.

After the Hilo island excursion, we were slightly exhausted by the time we made it back to our ship. It was a long, rewarding day. We rested a bit before eating a meal at the Aloha Cafe, on board the cruise ship. You could eat, almost non-stop, at the buffet, if that were your desire. You could eat until you bloat yourself to whale sized proportions if that's how you got your kicks. Some people, I noticed, did that.

I was satisfied with usually eating just four meals a day and a couple of snacks you would take from the buffet back to your cabin. lol. Again, some folks like us, would take entire platefuls of cookies and fruit or whatever you had an appetite for, to munch on before going to bed or to eat with taking your medication.

That's how we did it, anyway.

Here's a few shots of the outside of the decks of the cruise ship:

Do you see the rainbow? It's not because of the magical mushroom you may or may not have taken, I can assure you. I loved this shot.

The guy standing in front of the gigantic chess board and pieces might be thinking he's hallucinating. I'm not going to tell him differently.

The pool area, at night. I was peepin' in at a couple at one of the hot tubs. :)

That's all for now, folks. Hope you're enjoying the tours, thus far.

Hawaiian Adventure: Evening Sky and Oddities Found in Hawaii

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Sat, 20 Oct 2012 22:14:00 +0000

Hey there, everyone!

Remember me? Yeah, it's been awhile. I was absent from the world of blogging because my wife and I were on a cruise in Hawaii from the 29th of September through October 6th. I've been recuperating and getting things back in order ever since.

The first day and night was, during our adventure, September 28th, and all about flying for 10 hours on two different flights to Hawaii and staying at the Marriott Hotel in Honolulu. Our first flight was from Cincinnati. The flights going to Hawaii weren't as bad as I thought they were going to be. I watched two and a half movies on the biggest plane that had seven seats going across each row (one of them was Prometheus- which I liked) while my wife read a book on Steven Tyler. The 2nd plane, on our second flight we had to take, was in Utah. The Salt Lake City airport is tiny compared to the airports in Honolulu and Cincinnati, where we joyously we ended up, with only a little turbulence, experienced, during the long flights.

The Marriott Hotel offered us some great views of Waikiki beach in Honolulu. We stayed there our first day and night before boarding our cruise ship, Pride of America, the next day. Staying at this 4 star hotel on the 19th floor gave us a breather and a chance to look around Honolulu before we started our 7 day cruise, the next day. There was an incredible 33 floors to this hotel. It was pretty friggin' big but some buildings in Honolulu stood taller.

Honolulu is a very busy place with a lot to see. Tattoo parlors, bars, malls, small mom and pop stores, crazy traffic, a melting pot of people, surfers carrying surfboards and a beach that makes you feel as if you're dreaming. My wife and I loved it.

We took walks along Waikiki beach, enjoying the water and talking to people and being invigorated by the beautiful scenery.

We had an awesome, entertaining time on our cruise and on five different islands in Hawaii. I will be doing a series of posts of our time spent in Hawaii and on our cruise ship. Events and places I write about won't be in any particular order. I'll just be talking about this or that. I'll be mixing it up and going crazy with it. Lol.

Note: I spent my birthday in Hawaii, during our cruise and island time. How cool and great is that for a gift?

I'd like to show you this poem. I wrote this during our time spent at the airport, in Honolulu, before coming back home. I was almost completely exhausted, beyond repair, when I wrote this, but I was inspired by a particular picture I took during our cruise. I took it as I stood on our balcony, outside our stateroom cabin on the ship. I felt at such magnificent peace.

This poem is called "Evening Sky"

EVENING SKY

Hello
Goodbye
I say to the evening sky
Tomorrow will come
With what it decides

Some will make what
Seems to be mistakes
While others will see and take lessons
That they might embrace

I see and feel the peace that affects anyone of us
The Hawaiian atmosphere offers locales, beauty and kind people
You can't help but feel blessed

Walk
Run
Or be still

Take in the nature
That surrounds you in joyous or troubled times
Embrace the peace that takes care of you
While you stand, walk, run or hide
For a time

Meanwhile, say hello and goodbye
To that unbiased night sky
Tomorrow still comes
As you let those thoughts fly

I took this shot while standing on the top deck of our cruise ship

Going over the mountains to land in Salt Lake City

Taken from our room at the Marriott hotel in Honolulu. You can see the ocean and beach from where we stayed.

Waikiki beach, as evening comes

Oddity #1- While we were on one of the Hawaii islands, we found out that there were numerous locations where people were being overrun and annoyed by numerous random chickens and roosters and if you happened to run over one, you had to get out of your vehicle, pick up the chicken, barely alive or dead, to throw it away or eat it. No joke. We were told this by a native Hawaiian man. It was a law or something.

Oddity #2- My wife and I, almost continuously, encountered an elderly couple, strangers, that actually lived a few small towns away from our own town, back home, in the mainland. They were nice and we enjoyed talking to them. We found it to be such a coincidence that we were staying at the same hotel, going on the same cruise and we had lived so close by to each other in our home state. That's nearly 4,300 miles away.

Even on the last flight home, we bumped into them again. His name was John and her name was Connie. Sometimes we would help each other locate where we had to be or where we wanted to go on the island or on the cruise or at the hotel. I think we gave each other a sense of comfort and a feeling of contentedness, knowing we were around, off and on, people that were from our home state. They were likable, helpful, interesting, conversational neighbors during our entire adventure.

Oddity #3- We learned that a lot of their highways on the islands are made partially from lava rock that has been mixed with asphalt. They make good use of any lava that erupts and pours from volcanoes to build roads, walls that separate the ocean at beaches or property of any kind.

The lava creates new land, in Hawaii, eventually, but it is also used to build roads and walls on many of the islands.

Oddity #4- The Hawaiian word, mahalo, means "thank you" in the English language. a lot of people will say this word to you if they witness you doing something thoughtful or nice to them or for another reason. If you mix up the letters of this word just a bit, you can get "malaho", which our native Hawaiian shuttle bus driver, said at one point, meant a male body part (a man's genitals). I've tried looking this up on the internet, for the hell of it, but can't find it. Maybe I don't have the exact spelling of it right but that's what he told us.

Probably just fucking around with the tourists that we all were- but it gave us a chuckle, anyway. A lot of people laughed. We found everyone, on any of the islands or on the cruise ship, itself, to be friendly. We talked to people from all around the world. There especially seemed to be a lot of folks from Australia, the UK or the continent of Asia. We enjoyed conversing with them about almost anything and learning about their culture and what they were paying for gas for their cars these days. :)

In conclusion, I don't know if the shuttle bus driver was yanking my 'malaho' or what- but he sternly warned us not to say that dirty word to anyone on the streets on any of the Hawaiian islands or you would get a dirty look. And maybe even a punch to the nutsack or coochie. He didn't say that last part but I thought I would, because I care about your safety if you should go to Hawaii for a visit. :)

Say, "Mahalo, Kelly!"

I'll be continuing this series of blog posts about our time in Hawaii for a short time. I have posted all the pictures I took (around 530 pics- yeah, I know- WOW, huh?) during our Hawaiian adventure on Facebook, if you're interested. I will be posting, in the future, more Hawaiian pictures on this blog and on my photo blog, Pics for Kicks, when I have more time.

We're taking over this island. If you wanna get past me, you're gonna have to kill me and eat my corpse, damn it!

I'll be checking out and commenting on your blogs when I get the time. It seems my birthday of October 3rd is being celebrated, off and on, this month, with friends and family. I'll also be spending time with the wife and I'm still trying to put things in order and working on getting things fixed that happened right before our trip. I couldn't do things before our trip because we were busy and financially strapped. For one thing, we had to buy a new, used car. The old car broke down for good. That put a huge dent into our spending money for the trip.

Later, someone ran into the back of our newly purchased car two weeks later where my wife worked. Nope... no one saw what happened and nope... there are no security cameras aimed at the employee parking lot (how convenient and stupid) and yes, our insurance company will pay for getting it worked on but we still have to pay a five hundred dollar deductible. Please don't ask any questions about the damage to the "new" car. I'd rather not talk about it. It's a thorn in my side or in my mind, actually.

I have a lot of those, of course. Most are caused by people. God, I wish I was back in Hawaii, already. :) I try to picture myself there, nowadays.

Well, guys, that's all I can stand to write- for now. See ya later, folks! More fun and craziness to come!

An Interview With Myself (Part Two)

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Sun, 23 Sep 2012 21:22:00 +0000

Yes, this is the long awaited, highly anticipated sequel masterpiece widely known as PART TWO of INTERVIEW WITH MYSELF. Note, I did not just say I was playing with myself. I know how you could be confused by that. Especially if you were retarded. Besides, if I were doing that, I would not be able to type because it takes a big man like yours truly in order to fully pleasure himself with TWO BIG HANDS. My own, of course. Not the three hundred pound guy in the apartment below me. His forearms looks like he has muscled up by doing a lot of "wanking the weenie" all day and all night. No wonder I hear so much grunting and coughing below me. I think the guy smokes a couple cigs after he's done sapping his milk duds, and plays Lynryd Skynrd's "Freebird" when he finishes.

After one particular session, I thought I heard him say "Ta-Da!"

Personally, I've never been able to tolerate Lynryd Slynrd that much, no matter how much I stroke the skin flute.

Ah, well.

Here's the second part of the interview with myself. Enjoy!

Inquisitor Kelly: Why did you pick the name "Psycho Carnival" for the name of your blog?

Honest Kelly: It seemed like the most appropriate name. Really, Psycho Carnival started out as an underground newspaper. Underground newspapers were little newspapers or pamphlets that were regarded as subversive, anti-establishment type reading, in some circles. Some of these were artsy fartsy and/or loaded with hand drawn cartoons. Some had radical views to a majority of people. Some just wanted to voice an honest opinion on today's society. That's were I come in.

Here are some copies of the old Psycho Carnival. Sold 'em for 2 bucks a pop at a few bookstores. I didn't create them from scratch for profit- but to get my own ideas out there- across the country. Which I did. It was fun and I felt fulfilled.

Enlarge the image to see all the nooks, crannies and various goodness. Appreciate the awesome handmade artwork- completely computer-free design, as your own personal deity intended it to be.. or something.

Btw, I started my paper, Psycho Carnival, long before there was a band by the same name. But I didn't have the zine, as they were often called, copyrighted and frankly, I didn't care that they came up with the same name- whether it came from me or their own minds. Whatever.

Underground newspapers got their start in the 60's and 70's but were still semi-popular in the 80's and 90's.

I started writing, drawing and creating (stapling and pasting) my own underground newspaper (Psycho Carnival) in May 1996, using paper, pen, pencil and a word processor, several years before personal computers became widely popular. Computers were just starting to become a household item when I started my paper- but since I wasn't trendy, rich and didn't want my underground newspaper all fancy shmancy like those other candy-ass papers were, like some were in the 90's, I did my own thing, like I always have done.

This blog is an extension of that underground newspaper. I started the blog, late in the year of 2007.

On the back of each issue of old Psycho Carnival newspaper or zines, as they were called, which I continued to author for three years, would be a poem I wrote. It was one of many I have written in my lifetime. Check it out below my joyful artwork!

I drew this and included it in a special edition of my underground newspaper. It is a scene of my often appearing character, Jeepo the Clown, entertaining a guest. Please enlarge to completely enjoy the gentle nuances of my delicate, merry artwork.

Enlarge, in case your peepers have trouble reading the delightful poem. The smoking monkey, by the way, is symbolic of humankind's follies and bad habits.

Inquisitor Kelly: Do you write other stories, besides what some would call "naughty" tales?

Honest Kelly: Yeah, I do write in other genres but for some odd reason, people get hung up on or notice the stories of sexual situations more. I have written mega-loads (don't get too excited when I say that) of stories that are science fiction, drama, humor and so much more. I guess it's more of that sexual repression type stuff that only goes on in the minds, for the most part, of the American public. In Europe, they don't have much of a problem with this.

I gotta add that I think we're a country full of hypocrites that have their concerns and priorities misplaced. Violence is considered okay and often celebrated by our culture. Going to war on a country whose people we don't know or care enough to understand is as accepted as easily as Mom's apple pie and baseball here. But sex elicits raised eyebrows, angry rants, silence and shame, instead. How backwards is that? Violence is a flag we proudly fly. I consider the act of violence a hell of a lot more disgusting than the act of making love to someone. Blowing someone you don't know or understand to bits, either up close and personal or by a military drone- now that is SICK.

To me and quite a few people, the sex act is an act that is funny, itself, really... so I often add humor along with it. The thought of two or three or a mob of people grunting and groaning and putting themselves in all sorts of positions to get their rocks off paints a silly scenario in my mind. Don't get me wrong! Sex can be romantic- but often times, it includes these animal type scenarios that emulate monkey hi-jinx, at times.

For the record, the "Toadie" series of stories, I've written for this blog in the past, aren't something I came up with because I enjoy making fun of mentally challenged people. If people were to actually closely read those stories, they would note that the character, Toadie, who seems mentally challenged, isn't really that way and that he may be putting on an act, considering what he will say later on in an episode that reveals his true self. Meanwhile, the people around him are easily duped. That can come in quite handy for him.

Inquisitor Kelly: What would it take to get people in this world on the right track and not continuing it's seemingly downward spiral?

Honest Kelly: Understanding between people who might seem different than us until we get to know them. Putting back bank regulations. Stop communicating so much with electronic hand held devices (cell phones, IPads, IFux or whatever throwaway gadget they're called). It's so sad that we are a "throwaway" society on pretty much anything that's bought. Whenever a new "upgraded device" comes out, people will cheerfully buy it instead of, oh, I don't know, wasting it on someone who is hungry or homeless or some other positive purpose.

Forget about distractions like reality shows and silly tabloids. Cease being a conformist. Stand up and take responsibility for your actions and for cryin' out loud, stop denying what's happening in the world. Fairy tales are for children. In fact, I think we should start preparing kids, when they are young with how things are so they don't get blasted in the face with reality when they get older. Speak out against what is obviously wrong instead of waiting for someone else to do it. Stop polluting this world as if we have some other planet to land on, inhabit and slowly or quickly destroy. Opening one's mind. Those are just a few things off the top of my head. Thanks for asking. That was, like, totally unexpected of you.

Inquisitor Kelly: Describe yourself!

Honest Kelly: I think I'm a man that has many contradictory traits to his personality. I don't think I'm bi-polar, by any means. But I have strong opinions and strong passions for certain things that seem to contradict myself. I'm not boasting when I say I'm complex, but it's the truth. I'm still surprised by people who have known me since childhood. One of the worst things you can do to me, personally, is make assumptions. People have done that to me all of my life for idiotic reasons and, unfortunately, I do have to address some assumptions (lies) and set the truth straight out there. If I don't, it has led to more trouble than I care to talk about.

Personally, I don't give a rat's ass, though.

In all honesty, I think I lost a part of myself when my mother passed away. I was a shadow of my former self for a very long time. Still am, but not as much. I attended therapy and was prescribed anti-anxiety and anti-depression pills that work for me now. It took awhile to find the right ones that were a "good fit" for me. It takes awhile for some people to find the suitable pills because they'll sometime have drastic side effects with these pills. Anyway, I could confide in Mom with everything. She would listen, non judgmentally and answer a question- only if I asked. She loved me, unconditionally. She passed away 7 years ago. I miss her love, twisted humor and our talks about ANYTHING under the moon and the stars. My Aunt Kay, sister and wife can sometimes fill in the deep void in my life but they, honestly, can't come as close as that.

With this comes the responsibility I share with my sister of taking care of Dad, who has vascular dementia and other maladies too long to list. Even though he's in an assisted living place, he still has to be taken to doctor appointments and he still wants to be taken out to eat. And he's still angry, verbally abusive, threatening and you can never just visit him without him wanting you to take him somewhere. I recently put 200 miles on my odometer as we got lost three different times during the day. He refused to be taken anywhere else but this one particular Cracker Barrel restaurant. This is just a small sampling of what we have to go through. He also constantly loses his extra body parts, including, but not all mentioned: hearing aids, dentures, glasses, canes and so on.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to take care of my wife who has severe high blood pressure, arthritis and much much more. My own malady list goes on forever and ever so I won't bother to start. Besides, I've written all about it before. Excuse me for a moment. I have to shoot insulin into my belly. Be right back. :)

Though I still suffer from depression and disease time to time, I'm still able to find the humor and positive aspects of life, despite what I'll sometimes put on this blog or my Facebook wall. I think people don't look closely enough at a person, in order to try to get to know them, at least, to some degree. What a shame! For me. For others. Everyone.

Inquisitor Kelly: What's the weirdest thing that's happened to you, lately?

Honest Kelly: Well, for this scorchingly hot summer, there was a woman in her early forties, in a tank top and pair of shorts, sitting on her ten speed bicycle. She would be sitting on her bicycle for hours and hours at the end of our road. I would go to the store, for awhile or go to the park or wherever. When I'd come back. Sure enough, she would still be there. I wanted to roll down my window and ask her if she was okay because she looked like she was going to cross out onto the side of road to ride her bike, even though when there wasn't any traffic, but she would just sit there, instead and quietly wait. Every so often, she did a little circle ride at the end of our road but she wouldn't travel further.

I thought something was wrong with her, maybe mentally, but wasn't sure. Maybe, I thought, she was just afraid to take her bike out and ride it along the side of the road. I never asked.

I come to find out from my wife, from the neighbors and what my wife witnessed herself, that this woman was a prostitute. My wife caught her bobbing her head up a down on some guy in a car at what used to be a dentist's office nearby. The dude had his head leaned back, in apparent ecstasy. I guess he was giving the ol' girl some free toothpaste. :) I bet she could have used some real toothpaste, a pint of mouthwash and medical attention for any diseases she might carry.

The neighbors told us that guys would pull up along the side of her bike, talk to her a bit and then get out to put her bike in their trunk. And then, away they went off to somewhere, for awhile, before returning her to the end of the road. Then she did the "wait on a bike" routine again.

On several occasions, she was found to be wearing a sign around her neck during those skin blistering days. The sign read, in big bold lettering: Pick me up! I'll make you happy!

There was a smiley face next to the word "happy." A couple neighbors in our apartment complex said she was mentally challenged. No kidding, I thought. The sitting out in nearly 100 degree weather with an obvious sign around her neck didn't give that detail away at all.

These days, I don't see her... anywhere. Maybe the police finally picked her up. Maybe she's in a mental institution. Who knows? In any case, she's off the end of our road and we still have a bunch of neighborhood kids who still, gleefully, carelessly, play out in the middle of the entire length of our road with their balls and bikes and toys, not giving a shit if they get ran over or not. Btw, all of these kids have medium sized front and back lawns and big driveways. The parents, of course, still put signs out near the road, declaring that we should all slow down for the sake of their children.

Yeah, and people still like to tell me that people are okay. lol. Take care, everyone! I'll be taking a blog break for awhile. Hopefully, I will blog yet again next month, sometime. Btw, would you care to try my free toothpaste? Just thought I'd ask because... as I've often said... I CARE A LOT.

An Interview With Myself (Part One)

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Fri, 14 Sep 2012 07:11:00 +0000

During the last post, regarding newly given awards and "amazing predictions", I said was going to skip over the rule about naming the seven most important events in my life or some shit like that. Since I, ahead of time, knew I would be doing this bit, I figured why bother. It would be repetitious and with this present post, possibly a two parter, if I get too chatty or start rambling on about this or that, then posting up those seven amazing moments would make it seem I've got the ego the size of Donald Trump's or Mitt Romney's own ego. And who wants to see that? Gosh, certainly not magnificent lil' ol' me.

As the title suggests, I will be interviewing myself, revealing things I may have mentioned before here, some things I've never revealed, but also adding some clarification to misconceptions. I'll also be adding some traces of sardonic or dry humor that some individuals may or may not perceive, successfully, depending on how sharp of mind that being is. Not that I'm putting anyone down for having the intelligence quotient well below a snail's turd- but there have been times when I've read the comments on my blog or ones I've read on other's blogs and I've found it somewhat disconcerting to realize there's more than a few, uh, how should I put this in polite terms... mmm... dumbasses out there?

But, being the helluva guy I am, I'm throwing caution to the wind and going on with the show. I want to inform you, my friends, entertain you and gently coddle you like tiny baby birds in a wasp's nest, keeping you feeling all warm and secure, inside and out. No shocking diatribes, sarcasm and crude humor found in this humble abode of mine, I can assure you. I certainly wouldn't do that to get an individual's attention to make one simple, friggin' point.

Ahh... there I go again with the friendly, idle chit chat. On with the interview:

Inquisitor Kelly: What's with the clowns? Everyone believes you have this vested interest with clowns because of the heading on your page. It's loaded with repeated images of clowns. Are you afraid of clowns? Do they arouse you, in some undetermined way? A lot of folks, on and off this blog, have brought this "highly interesting' subject up time and time again and have this deep desire to know what's up with that.

Honest Kelly: I really don't care one way or another about clowns, actually. When I conferred with the co-designer of the web page's layout, a couple years ago, she suggested that I keep the image of the clown from my old layout to use with this layout. Her daughter even drew me up a jazzy, nifty looking clown and I have kept it on the blog ever since. Why clowns? I agreed for the sake of keeping with the theme of the blog. Not because I like clowns or want to, hopefully, fuck one so hard in the ass one day that it's bright red colon explodes- but because of practical reasons. And to be truthful, I think every human being is a clown, just at different levels. Some are more obvious than others. Because of the clown question, it was, at one point, tiresome to read the same question over and over about it. I didn't give a shit enough to give a reason for it. Even now, I just don't care. In fact, knowing that this insignificant image on my page supposedly frightens people, as I've heard it does with some freaks.. I mean... people... amuses me a tiny bit.

That goes for the black background on my site. Some people say it's too hard to read my words on a post I'll put up. To them I say, I like the black background. Black matches the sometimes dark themes I bring up during my rants and stories on my charming blog. I won't change it for anyone or for any reason. Not for more followers. Not for more hits on my pages. In truth, the opinions of most people mean less than nothing to me. This is because I'm too old, too wise and have had enough experience to imbue myself with the knowledge that people basically want things their way because they are selfish and narrow-minded. Not to mention uptight and stupid. Thanks for asking.

Inquisitor Kelly: What was your childhood like? Were you a normal kid? Or were you a rowdy, screaming monkey child or what?

Honest Kelly: I grew up poor. I lived in an old, four room, white-paneled house on farm land. The cistern we drank out of, we found out later on, had quite a few dead and half-dead albino frogs in the water. We didn't have a shower. We poured buckets of water over our heads and washed with that water (which I think was from a creek up the hill) in a hand made metal stall my dad had built.

I had a swing and a tire on an apple tree I played on. I also had a black and white cat named Pepsi, a German Shepherd named Happy and I often talked to an old large apple tree, out of loneliness, boredom and because I had a fertile imagination. Finally, 6 years later, my sister was born. I played with her toys, rode bikes with her and played with my own collection of Hot Wheels cars. Each one of my Hot Wheels cars had his or her own personal name and military rank. The President was in love with the Secretary. Sometimes, I made them kiss. The apple tree, outside, often told me to kill the useless weeds in the yard (they were the enemy). So that I did, with pure, delightful abandon and with a large stick I'd whip around, cutting them down like a warrior.

Down the road, we had neighbor kids that enjoyed peeing into each other's mouths, for sport and dry humping the wiener dog. They locked me in their spider-filled, completely dark old basement once, for hours. They would make Kool-Aid, on hot summer days and their mom would serve it to us kids in unwashed, food-encrusted glasses. I'm surprised, to this day, I'm still alive. I'm not kidding about any of those details and I've talked about them a couple times on this blog. When I was six, I had no idea what they were doing to their dog. Later, I put it together and figured it out. All I knew was that it's little doggy eyes rolled to the back of it's head while it lay on the slab of concrete while one of the brothers cheered on the human kid fucking it.

I found out later that Happy, my dog, was a bad doggy to a vet. Dad said he had ran off one day. No explanation was given. I was shocked and saddened when I was told that as a kid. When I was 16, Dad told me that he had to "put Happy down" because Happy suddenly bit a big meaty chunk out of a vet's arm during one of Happy's regular vet appointments. The vet told Dad Happy had to be put down or he would make sure Happy was euthanized. The way Dad described it, it took several shots to his big furry canine head before Happy finally died. Hearing this story did not make me happy. But I understood the reasoning a little later. Happy could have killed me, at some point and that's what they were afraid of. During our play time together, though, he was a really friendly and honestly happy dog.

On a happier note: I really enjoyed the walks mom and I would take down the old gravel road that was named after us because Dad had done so much work on it, himself.

Every week, it seemed, we would pay a visit or visits to my grandma and grandpa's farm down the old country lane. I was mostly a very shy, quiet kid. I played with my Aunt Kay. I remember one particular time when we set white milk stools together, down on their sides on the floor, in a line and sat in the open spaces. We pretended that we were riding in a train and made "choo- choo' noises. Those were fun times. My Aunt Kay, who was more of a sister to me, now and then, says that she used to bully me. I don't know about that. Maybe it's repressed memories.

She would play tricks on me, of course. She was a little jealous of sweet lil ol' me because I was the "new baby",so to speak, of the family. It had been her for awhile. One time, she blindfolded me and told me to take a big bite out of this juicy apple she had in her hand. So I did as she directed, as trusting and innocent as a kid I was. But no, it was a tomato, not an apple. I shouted, "Yuck!" I quickly took off the blindfold. When I saw the mushy pulp and seeds of the tomato I wanted to puke, preparing my taste buds, beforehand, for a sweet, juicy apple. To this day, I won't eat a tomato. They repulse me. I'd rather lick a cow's taint than eat a fucking tomato.

Pretty visual, eh?

Because I was shy, I often got bullied on the buses, as I grew up. I didn't know you could be thought of as being "stuck up", too, for being quiet but I heard it whispered that, that was another reason I was bullied so horribly. Four to five bigger kids would gang up on me and smash their hard back school books on the back of my head on the school buses. A few would punch my face. The school bus driver would watch the action, in his rear view mirror and do nothing. He was famous for this. Anytime there was a fight or bullying, he did nothing and reported nothing. I was too ashamed to tell my parents about it so they more or less didn't know about it.

I made a few friends in grades 1-8 in parochial school. They were a couple of "misfits", as well, because they would not be picked out for team sports and were quiet and whatever else kids (and for that matter, adults) would use- as an excuse to pick on them and I.

Speaking of bullies, that's a subject that really pisses me off on many levels. With all this texting and facebooking gossip shit going on between kids, telling lies and being cruel, kids these days are really having a hellish time with bullying these days. They sometimes end up killing themselves, in fact, from what you read in the paper and on the Internet. It makes me sick. I hear and see crap about gangs of girls kicking the shit out of other girls and I wonder what the hell kind of values are their parents teaching them. Even my niece is getting bullied by school girls, calling her names and filling up her locker full of tampons, of all things. My sister didn't put up with it, of course. She went to the principal and told him to get something done about it or else. Because of her being pro-active, it has stopped.

These days, there are more and more school departments or people you can go to if you're on the receiving end of bullying, but more, clearly needs to be done about it. Kids shouldn't be killing themselves and feeling like they're not worthy of the respect they should be given during the time they're in school or out of it.

I read a lot of books when I was young. I also wrote a lot of stories, mostly about my parakeets, cats and my dog. A lot of vivid imagination and descriptive wording (not so much that it was shocking and it was never vulgar) went into them and I was told I was a very creative writer by my English teacher. I liked the compliment as they were few and far between. Unfortunately, I had a teacher who thought I had too vivid an imagination. I never wrote anything perverted, if that's what you're wondering. I was just a kid. The teacher's name was Mrs. Patterson. She was one of two or three teachers who wasn't a nun at the school by the old church- but she did fancy herself as an amateur psychologist. She really thought she knew a lot about psychology. The bitch even tried to suggest to my parents that there was something wrong with me. My parents were young and didn't know any better (I was their first kid) so they tried to convince me there was something wrong with me, too and that I should seek counseling. I think I was like ten years old at the time. It was around this time, I found out I was half-deaf, due to all the ear infections I had as a kid.

I had a fit, cried quite a bit and it really caused me to question adults and their fucked up motives. Before that, I was questioning the motives of adults because of all the violent news of the Vietnam war that would be shown on TV. Even at the ripe old age of ten, I knew it was wrong and I thought, quite often, what kind of mess of beings have I been thrown into, without permission. These fuckers are nuts. Well, I didn't think in exactly those words I just used, but it close enough. I did think adults and kids were really messed up- not just because they bullied me but because they seemed to be preoccupied by violence- on TV and everywhere else.

This is me, when I was a kid ( had blonde hair until I was six), plus another pic of mom and I, when I was older and we were fishing at the time:

Later, I went to high school, joined Drama Class, wrote articles for the school newspaper, continued to write serious and humorous stories, acted in plays, had a poem published, went to a lot of parties, got drunk and fried and really started opening up to people and getting pretty wild, in general. My personality changed quite a bit in high school. I was the one who started trends without even meaning to do that. In reality, just as I do today, I just do whatever I feel like doing- within reason. I'm not a serial killer. And I don't sodomize animals on Tuesdays.

I've never tried to be rebellious or a non-conformist type of person. One friend suggested that I was trying to be that way on purpose once. That made me laugh and I replied, "If you know anything about me, you know I'm honest about what I say and about my own actions- to a fault." And he said, "Yeah... you're right," after thinking it over for a little while and recalling the years of our twenty year friendship. I just feel like doing whatever fits for me. The need, as it did when I was kid, to fit in, doesn't work for me. I'm my own person. To each person, I believe, they should go his or her own way. To the rest of those who blindly follow without questioning, fuck 'em.

Inquisitor Kelly: Would you say adults who were bullies or even adults who weren't bullies when they were children, but are now, don't understand what effect they have on people? And perhaps, in fact, don't give a shit about what effect they have on people?

Honest Kelly: I think there are many people or groups of people who fall under the category of "Bullydom." It's funny you should ask me this, Kelly. But maybe it isn't so odd, since you are, in fact, me. I wanted to do a blog post on bullies for a long time now. And now... look! I finally made it here. Looks like the subject is being intertwined within this interview, after all. Ha ha ha. I'm laughing to myself, literally, I suppose.

There are, indeed, adults who are bullies. Sometimes they are parents who really shouldn't be breeding, having children and shouldn't be brainwashing them with their own distorted viewpoints, neither should there be bosses who abuse their hiring/firing, pay raising/lowering power, police officers that abuse their authority and corporate entities that squeeze money out of the middle class and the poor for their own profits and gains.

Corporations can be the worst of all evils and of all bullies because they try to control and bully us in our short, precious lives here on Earth by pushing us into corners we have no escape from. Sometime, you might feel a temporary escape by taking an anti-depressant (which makes your misery profitable for big pharmaceutical companies) or by doing cocaine, drinking booze or worse (which makes it profitable for drug cartels and, in turn, for the DEA and law officers- if you do your research).

Let's face it! If we didn't outlaw drugs, there would be a lot of space in those jails and prisons and then where would the states and the government make their money? Hell, we might have to actually put it into schools to educate kids, pay teachers what they deserve, hire and keep firefighters, fix roads or some other practical purpose. God forbid!

I see, in the future, tobacco products becoming completely illegal within the next twenty years. This will be great news for organized crime and others. Just like it was when they made weed illegal. Read that entire story here. It will either disgust you or shock you or both. Or maybe you just don't care. A lot of people don't care about their privacy and personal freedom, either. Look around! There are sheeple, everywhere! People have always had the (un)natural "talent" of being able to ignore being shit on or becoming obedient slaves to a centuries old man made system.

Btw, marijuana, being made illegal, was great news and carefully planned by folks like our government and rich, white assholes such as Harry J. Aslinger and William Randolph Hearst. Both had vested interests, for their careers, to make weed out to be an addictive drug, capable of killing and driving one insane. Nonsense!!!

The silly 1930's flick, Reefer Madness, was nothing more than a propaganda film, intended to scare the public. Instead, it's watched today as if it is an absurd comedy movie. Good ol' propaganda! Kind of like drawing people into a war with a country, in the name of patriotism, that we have no business in being in- except to drum up business for rich white people in corporate hierarchies. They have what we want! Let's wage war on them! We'll set up our democracy there, afterwards, to keep the profits rolling in.

Well gang, I'm getting pretty tired. I have just enough energy to do a quick re-read of what I've written, take a quick piss and hit the bed sheets with my exquisite self. I think I will continue the second part of this interview another time. Hope you enjoyed it. I have more to say, since I'm a rambler, but it will have to wait.

New Awards and Predictions

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Sat, 01 Sep 2012 23:19:00 +0000

Awhile back, blog author, Gary Phillip Pennick, of his blog, Klahanie, gave me and much more other worthy recipients two awards. One is called the Fabulous Blog Ribbon Award and the other is the One Lovely Blog Award. I'm finally getting around to giving him a proper thank you and doing a blog post about it.

Gary, himself, rightfully earned and received these two awards and gracefully bestowed them upon six other blog authors besides sweet lil' ol' me. I would like to acknowledge his generosity by mentioning these awards and pass them along to other blogs I admire and have enjoyed:

1. Pickleope
2. Happyendings- Confessions of An Erotic Masseuse
3. DCRelief
4. The Angry Lurker
5. Angry Clown
6. Homeless in Seattle
7. In Search of a Russian Oligarch

Be sure to check out the great blogs above and tell them Kelly, of Psycho Carnival, sent ya! Sure, they may be confused by this, but fuck it, do it, anyway... just because I said so.

The rules that accompany these awards state that the recipients of the awards are "encouraged" to pass along or forward one or both awards to 7 other recipients. You're also supposed to mention five fantastic moments in your life. Well, as you know, probably by now, I'm not much of a follower of rules or polite etiquette of any type. But I did want to pass along the awards to those I deem worthy of receiving them. Those blogs and their authors don't need to feel obligated to relate five great moments in their life, unless they so desire to. Nor are they obligated, at least in my opinion, to put the award(s) on their site or say who gave them the awards. Gosh, it's not like I'm a glutton for ego-maniacal gratitude or something. No way... no how.

Also: Since my next post, I had already decided, was going to relate to things pertaining to me, more personally, and some of my unique opinions on different topics, I've decided to skip the "great moments" list at the time.

But I would like to share my predictions for the coming years of our existence as a species, in the absence of this list. I know that the big ol' Mayan prediction and other predictions, foretelling the the chaos and/or substantial change in the human race for the date of December 21st, 2012 is kinda on the minds of people these days. Personally, I think, on that date, we may see some people getting "all nutty" about that particular day since it has been so hyped up in the media, that they might just cause riots here and there, causing, in turn, some needless trouble and pain for people just trying to get on with their lives as if it were another day. Which, it might turn out to be the case. Just another day, I mean.

But here, before you, are my TRUE PREDICTIONS for what will absolutely happen in the years to come. I'm providing you with these life altering predictions because I CARE A LOT. Yep. For sure. Here ya go:

* Sometime in the near future, corporations and people around the world will endeavor to stop polluting this planet we inhabit. The Arctic ice will cease melting. Temperatures and climate will become stable. Wars over fossil fuels, power and land will no longer continue. Rainbows will appear out of nowhere and unicorns will dance among the children. Strangers, holding hands, will suddenly burst into heartwarming songs and share an overwhelming feeling of peace and goodwill towards one another. And the homeless will be welcomed everywhere and given shelter, loving care and food. Not long, after these events occur, I will shit gold to share with each and every one of you. It's true! Just like everything else I said. Yep.

* Movies will have involving and interesting plot lines. Gone are the flicks that satiate a mindless public. People will actually crave more original and fascinating entertainment than ever before. Oh yeah, baby.

* Mitt Romney will become president of the United States. The economy will drastically improve. The middle class will be sustained and prosper. People across the country will, simultaneously, eat healthier food. The elderly will be given better healthcare and respect. Education will become an all important issue, will be improved upon and every child will learn and grow to be a fine, upstanding citizen. Animals, that were once on the endangered species list, will come back and flourish and multiply around the world. The mentally challenged will suddenly take flight, using their arms as wings and delight us all with their colorful, enchanting antics by colliding into bridges and mountains. Because of this spectacle, a few individuals will giggle until they fart. But then... A large hairy ape will descend from the heavens above and let loose with a powerful stream of piss that will shower the world with luminous, wondrous magic. All true. Every word. Count on it!

* Old diseases like Cancer and Diabetes will be cured by researchers for big pharmaceutical companies because, after all, they care only about eliminating the diseases, altogether. Never are they even slightly interested in making profits off of people like you and I by selling pills and such to treat the symptoms. Heck no. I'd say, in about a year, all those horrendous diseases that have been around for decades and centuries will be a thing of the past. Nothing to worry about. Just put your mind at ease and think of butterflies fluttering about the flowers of life.

* Racism and gender equality will be eagerly talked about. Soon, everyone will be accepted for who they are and who they wish to copulate with and love. Trees will learn sign language, too.

* Cars, trucks, planes, ships and tricycles, even, will be powered by a completely unique form of endless, profitless energy. Corporate and government scientists, after working diligently on creating this free energy that corporations won't care to profit from, will be shown gratitude by all the world's population because people will suddenly be grateful for the good things offered to them and will gleefully projectile vomit on these learned geniuses by way of reward for their years of long, hard work. There will be such an atmosphere of absolute positivism, that leprechauns, minotaurs and Ewoks will erupt from the ground to spray forth load after creamy load of jism upon the people. People will happily gobble it all up like hungry maggots and instantly become more strongererer and smarterererr and erererer. Henceforth, this day of celebration will be officially known as Merry Spooge Day.

That's all I have for now. So, once again, just put your mind at ease. The human race will be just fine. We're evolving into something great and wonderful. Yes, indeed. We're certainly not devolving into societies of war-mongering, hateful, polluting assholes who don't give a real shit about what we do to each other, the animals and the planet's atmosphere. So... yeah. Feel free to throw caution to the wind and smile, smile and smile some more. Our future as a species is looking just fine and as promising as ever.

Have a dandy day, one and all!

Paranormal Investigator and A Few of My Beliefs

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Mon, 20 Aug 2012 01:55:00 +0000

I attended a lecture on a particular paranormal subject, at a library, almost a month ago. That tells you about how much time, I've had, lately, to actually blog about something that interests me. Most of the time, I have to deal with things in my life I'd rather not have to deal with- but that's reality for ya. I pepper my reality with brief times of relief on Fartbook... er... Facebook, mostly, because commenting or posting on Facebook takes less time than doing a blog post. To each his or her own. :)

The lecture I went to was about ghost hunting and the woman giving the lecture belonged to an organization that has been around for a number of years and they have done a lot of investigations. She seemed to know what she was talking about. A large group of ordinary people had showed for the lecture and Q & A.

The lecture got me thinking about a lot of things that I experienced in my past.

I believe in ghosts and things that fall under the paranormal heading for a number of reasons. I've talked about those reasons on this blog in the past but to those who are relatively new to this blog that I've been doing since 2007, my reasons, in no particular order are:

1- I've lived in a house that was haunted. The entire family, our friends and even people we didn't know that well, saw and heard many unexplained incidents such as: chairs moving by themselves, laughter coming from our attic when no one was up there, the lights and TV going off and on, whispers of your name next to your ear while attempting to sleep, blood running down the walls, something pulling sheets off of a bed while you are attempting to sleep, black, smoke-like formations rushing past doorways, dolls' heads moving completely around by themselves, running footsteps being heard, coming up from the basement stairs up to the door leading to the hallway (when no one was there) and so on.

Some of this shit, that went on, I think I've purposefully forgotten, to avoid needless trauma.

If you've read this far without thinking me insane, wanting to mock me and everyone else who had to go through the shit we went through or wanting to debate me or point out how one or more things can easily be scientifically explained- then congratulations are in order for you. Kudos! It means you likely have an open mind. Otherwise, if you're here to debate me or do any of the other things I mentioned above, feel free to move on to the next blog about how someone's kid and their latest "hysterical" antic that everyone is dying to know about. Or something equally mundane. I'm not interested and will not respond, as you would probably like, to anything contrary that you have to say. I've heard it before and wasn't impressed. We, meaning the dozens of us who went through the hell of living there or visiting there, know what we went through and tried "scientifically" explaining away everything that happened. Didn't work. End of story.

I might add... and I will...

The only thing more irritating and frustrating to me than an overzealous disbeliever in anything they can't see or explain is an overzealous Christian trying to push their faith down your throat. Giving someone the benefit of a doubt is not the same as being gullible. Either person who displays this type of behavior is showing their arrogance and close mindedness. It's also a sign of someone who NEEDS to feed their ego to tear down one's ideas or beliefs with whatever well written malarkey that they can come up with. Just because it is well written or that person has the last word- it does not make them right.

2- My wife has spoken to the spirit of her deceased grandfather one night, while I was in bed and he gave her details about me that he couldn't have known, because he died three decades before I was even born. I've had several relatives see and talk to dead relatives, whether they were on their deathbeds in homes or hospitals or when they were just standing around, not doing anything in particular. Feelings of peace would usually accompany them while these incidents would happen.

3- I've also had some flashes or images come into my mind, while awake, of things that have happened. Most of those things (images) were of trivial matters. When these images would come into my mind, I would feel like I should remember them. I don't know why that feeling would come over me but it did. A month or two later and the image of the incident in my mind actually became a reality.

The one "picture" that I got in my head was of something that I didn't even know about or what it was and had never seen a picture of it before- until I was older, in school. It came to me when I was around four years old. It was a picture of a nuclear bomb going off. Bright mushroom cloud, everything being caught on fire, vaporized and so on. The whole bit. It was happening, I figured out later in life, in the same direction where a major city, about thirty miles away from where I live now, is located. I'm 48 years old and it is an image in my mind as horrifying and clear as it was when I was four years old.

4- I used to read whole decks of cards. Didn't matter which deck or where it came. They weren't in any order. I didn't cheat by marking any sides or had cards that were bent. I'd simply look at each face down card, say what it was, suit and number, turn it over and it would be what it said I knew it was going to be. Then I'd re-shuffle the cards again, predict the cards, again, correctly and then, one day, I thought to myself, This is too weird and I stopped doing it, altogether.

5- There is another thing I've been involved in, paranormally speaking, but I'm not mentioning it because it would take too long to explain and I'm afraid I'd get a lot of backlash in comments that I'd rather not read because, well, I've heard it all before and sadly, most people are predictable. :) I'm not saying everyone is, but, if you've been around as long as I have, you already know the truth. If you'd really and genuinely like to know what #5 is about, I'll tell you.

These days, I don't have any predictive imagery in my mind. Nor do I attempt to predict cards or attempt transcendental meditation. That last thing I just mentioned resulted in something that freaked me out a bit, not in a bad way, but I'm not going to go into it, either.

The paranormal investigator (one of many ghost hunters, so to speak,) brought all of her equipment, including dowsing rods, an EVP recorder, an EMF meter and a laptop computer showing orbs (spirits) she and others had videotaped during their investigations. Later, she shared information about a tour through a place where people, in a nearby city, had reported experiencing spirits one way or another. She didn't talk about the future tour much, in case you're wondering if she was there to make money off the local town folk. She was there to demonstrate how the instruments worked, how her own personal experience as a child got her interested in the paranormal and answering any questions that people had about ghosts.

Many orbs ( or spirits)

She talked quite a bit about how her personal experience with spirits and how it told about and shown on TV, through reenactments. The paranormal investigator was interviewed about the full apparition she saw of a little girl named Nora, sitting on the floor in a room, upstairs at her childhood home.

The woman also was there to investigate someone who had died at the library she was speaking at. According to the dowsing rods and the EMF meter, something was definitely there and it was communicating what had happened when she died. For one thing, she used to work in the same old building a long time ago and she was pregnant at the time. Ever since my sister and her coworkers had been working at the library, they had heard talking, from out of nowhere and had seen things move (on their own?) while being employed at the library. It wasn't a malicious spirit, obviously. It just wanted to be acknowledged.

On her laptop computer, the investigator showed orbs, like I said and turned up the volume of strange, yet clear, disembodied voices.

There was a teenage girl, who worked at the library, who had an experience on a ghost hunting tour, a few months back, who was not associated with the investigator. She told us about how she thought a spirit from the place she toured had come back home with her. She said she could feel "him" touch her arms, at times, and how it felt cold or like being brushed by spider webs. This spirit, she said, had also displayed non-malicious behavior toward her but the investigator advised her that she should explain to the spirit that he was dead and should move on to the other side. Her family, who had also gone on the same tour, also heard voices "from out of nowhere" and felt things.

The other side, what happens after death, call it Heaven or what you will, is also something I happen to believe in for a great many number of personal reasons, NOT religious reasons.

The paranormal investigator seemed pretty genuine to me. I had an open mind about it because of things I and others close to me have witnessed and experienced. Btw, I'm quite open to any of your own experiences, concerning the paranormal in the comment section, or if you'd like, through email or Fartbook... er.. I mean Facebook.

Supposedly, I'm supposed to get a nice pair of dowsing rods from the link I already provided, as a gift, from my sister, for my birthday, October 3rd. I'm not saying I completely believe in dowsing rods but they may be of some personal good to me. I'm not saying anything beyond that.

Take care, everyone!

Images of Victor, Zoey and My Wife

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Sun, 29 Jul 2012 20:30:00 +0000

These are the most precious beings in my life.

Victor, my orange tabby and Zoey, my calico kitty, at play

Adorable

Asleep, together :)

Old brother meet new sister

Inclement Weather and Inclement People

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Mon, 23 Jul 2012 02:03:00 +0000

I know. It's like I'm only barely eking out one damned post a month. Let's just say I've been keeping busy and worrying a lot about personal problems going on in my life and leave it at that. But then, what else is new, eh? Would I like to say things are semi-fine or halfway tolerable? Yep. I sure would. You may think me a pessimist or call me an alarmist but, really, I honestly try to bring harmony in my little part of world only have it it crushed, pulverized and throw back in my face like a messy, sticky wad of pre-chewed Goobers.

This is going to have to be one of those times where I don't reveal what's happening in my personal life right now. To recall it and write it in any kind of half-attempted detail here would only send me to the Community Mental Health Center. Let's put it this way: I almost checked myself into such a place, yesterday and people who don't suffer from severe anxiety disorder or depression might have had the same thought cross their minds if they had gone through what I've gone through this week. It's enough to make you (actually me) wish that The Grand Joke of Life that sometimes plagues the continuously unfortunate would just take a big ol' hammer, whack one in the head and get it over with. Ha. Ha. Gosh, I'm quite the kidder. Let's just say that and move on, shall we?

Speaking of Goobers... Look! There's Goober! He's with Andy! I wonder what tune Andy was playing? It was probably something lighthearted and something that made sense. Kind of like the opposite behavior of the people we have running around the world today. Btw, Andy Griffith died not too long ago. Don't ask me about Goober, though. I don't know if he's down in the dirt and food for maggots or what. The last I heard, he joined a circus that was demon- owned that had crazed clown midgets and hell hounds running the show. Hey, that reminds me of a story I wrote about a month ago! How about that?

But anyway...

I will say that the only reason I'm able to write this post is because the temperature has gone down to a nearly tolerable level in this part of the apartment and I rigged a gate, an old window screen, to be exact, to keep the new kitten from jumping around and eating my electrical wiring. Plus, some of the problems that were taking hold of my sanity have quelled enough to a point where I can put a sentence together with my keyboard without foaming at the mouth and pissing my pants.

Damn. People are getting are crazier by the day. Every once in awhile, I'll create some crazy assed story or comment on some crazy assed piece of news that's going on in the world but I tell you what, folks. The true life stories that are going on these days put my own fictional or incredibly real tales to shame, or at the very least, seem lame by comparison.

The whack job that went into the Colorado Theater and shot 71 people, wearing a costume or something, while everyone was attempting to watch the new Batman flick is just one of many signs this country is plain nutty. I would say he's inclement. You never hear that word, describing insane or unfeeling people much, but I'd say it's time for a new word to describe cruel or apathetic people. People use this word to describe the weather these days but I would cheerfully give up this word to be associated with this fucker.

Insanity and cruelty must be bliss- for this guy. His creepy-as-fuck smile says a lot.

Speaking of inclement weather... what's going on here? Non-stop floods and rain in the United Kingdom and over here, in the U.S., we have severe droughts and non-stop 100 degree temperatures nearly every day. In other parts of the world, they're having "opposite weather" of what they're supposed to be having this time of year, as well. And it's all being dealt out in heavy doses, causing anguish upon almost everyone that I've interacted with or read about. It's like the weather is mimicking the world's fucked up economy, violent state and it's loony people. Or it's the other way around.

And let's not forget the cannibal dude who ate the homeless man's face, either, awhile back. This guy didn't even stop eating this poor man's face as he was being shot and told not to eat the victim's face.

You would think that maybe the guy on the right was...uh.... kinda nutty. Nope, it's the guy on the left that eats human flesh. Whatever you do, don't hunt for the picture on the net, provided you haven't seen it, already, of the homeless guy's "face" after the cannibal dude gobbled most of it up like a kid at the fair with a stick full of cotton candy. Or a handful of Goobers. That picture of the homeless guy, after the cannibals handiwork, had me close to puking. And that, my friends, is pretty bad if you can make me sick.

Personally, I don't understand it all. The fucked up economy, the crazy people, the inclement weather, thinly veiled wars that are actually about greed and power, the messed up priorities of politicians and inclement DICKtators around the world and everything else I'm leaving out- but I'm sure you've seen on the Internet, newspapers or TV- it's really oddly coincidental that it's happening in such a short span of time.

George Carlin was a very wise, witty and humorous comedian and author. R.I.P. He's one of my heroes, actually, along with Kurt Vonnegut. They really understood human nature. They weren't shy about speaking their minds and being honest and direct. Those are characteristics I mentally applaud about people who unabashedly exhibit them. I hold both of the mentioned authors, who were realists and humorists, in very high regard. I'm rather proud to say I own all of George's albums and books and I can say that I own most of the masterpieces that Kurt Vonnegut penned during his life.

My point is, is that George said, more than once, "When you're born you get a ticket to the freak show. When you're born in America, you get a front row seat." Wow. The more time passes during my own era, the more truer and relevant that becomes, George. And it seems the rest of the world is trying to shake off the fleas (the humans) more so than usual with rampant floods, death-bearing heat, earthquakes and so on.

I truly feel for the victims of those who have been shot and killed in senseless shootings, wars and so on. I also feel for those living in poverty, never knowing a life where food is plentiful and healthcare is there to benefit them.

I guess when there are people that still feel and aren't apathetic to those around them, there is still hope. There are days when I try to hold tight to that idea. Some days, it's harder to do that than others. But let's all try! And let's all try to be better human beings and feel something humane for our own species. At this rate, I have to admit, it feels as though we're quickly spiraling down the drain of history.

Asmodeus' Astounding Circus (The Final Chapter)

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Sun, 24 Jun 2012 03:01:00 +0000

Ah yes, long time, no see, everyone. But I'm here now, for the moment, to delight and enthrall you all with the long overdue ending to a short series about a circus. If you haven't read any of the installments or even if you need to re-read these fine, literary masterpieces once again to jog your memory on the storyline and characters... Here are the following links to help you out in making even the slightest sense of past and present events and be entertained as all get out. Woo hoo!

Auditions For The Circus

Second Round of Auditions For The Circus

Ringmaster Gregario excitedly went up to the circus ticket booth and asked, "So how many tickets have we sold for the big show?"

There was a line of adults and kids, eagerly waiting to step inside the big circus tent and be seated.

Trixie, who had before been a bubbly, beautiful blonde college girl went through a transformation, of sorts, after the circus owner, Asmodeus, escorted her away after her audition, many months ago and took the twenty something year old back to his own private mansion.

Being a demon (a fairly horny one, at that), Asmodeus had mesmerized Trixie with his charm and evil influence to seduce the giddy blonde. Soon, Trixie found herself taking off her clothes, revealing her perky breasts and shaven pussy. The demon circus owner took Trixie by the hand and easily grabbed her with one powerful arm and tossed her on the bed. For three nights straight, they fucked without a break. The experiences Trixie endured caused her to almost lose her mind, completely.

Answering Gregario's question, Trixie slowly looked up from where she sat and said, with slow deliberation and with menace in her tone, "The fuckers just keep coming to see the show."

Trixie giggled slightly, seeming to change in her mood, grabbing a big wad of cash and sales receipts from her cash drawer and thrust it up towards the ringmaster's face.

"See?" Trixie asked.

Gregario nodded approvingly at what he saw before Trixie. Without warning, Trixie viciously grabbed Asmodeus' most trusted assistant by the crotch of his black pants with her free hand.

"AHHH!" screamed Gregario, quickly backing away from the ticket booth and Trixie's grasp.

Several customers looked where the scream had come from. This got the attention of a pack of red eyed wolves. Asmodeus' personal pets looked up from the half eaten human skull they had been gnawing on and growled toward the attendees. Gonza, the large muscle-bound Head of Security came out of the side of the tent and confronted the customers.

"We have a problem here?" asked Gonza, threateningly.

The customers shook their heads, showing they had no problems, but were still very obviously shaking with fear.

An hour later, everyone was allowed to go into Asmodeus' Astounding Circus and take their seats.

A troupe of clown midgets entered from a hidden side room, in a multi-colored vehicle, with a pentagram sign on every side of the car. The car stopped in the center of the stage. One of the car doors opened. Soon, The infamous Blutarsky Brothers came tumbling out. All of them had bulbous heads, had extreme toe fungus and were mentally impaired. The crowd let out various sounds of surprise.

Ringmaster Gregario walked up to the center stage, in front of the family of disheveled clown midgets and cried out, into his microphone, "Ladies, gentleman and children of all ages, it gives me a special kind of thrill to present to you the most amazing acts you'll ever witness in your lifetimes!"

Gregario waved his hand and pointed to the clown midgets that had painted faces. Some of them were crossing their eyes and shaking their heads. One had a permanent smile on his face. Luscious, the member of the group who had undergone a botched sex change surgery, courtesy of one of "her" brothers and his handy knife, in order to become a man, stepped out in front of his brothers. Luscious had tiny breasts, thanks to hormone therapy and a couple of sewn upon hairless gopher butt cheeks, but the vagina of the clown midget was far from perfect.

Tension and anticipation filled the air.

Isa, the eldest member joined her son, Luscious, who was dressed in a small, sparkly pink tutu.

The old ringmaster handed Isa, the mother of the 7 performing midgets, the microphone.

Isa announced, "My name is Isa, mother of my Russian babies, the ones you may know as The Blutarsky Brothers. Tonight, we will show you our talents and you will soon gaze upon us with wonder. Watch and fill your ugly American hearts with joy!"

With that said, Gonza brought in a handcuffed and shackled blubbery man in a size XXXL sweatsuit. He was sweating, profusely, and had a collection of bruises upon his face. Gonza thrust the obese man on his hands and knees.

Ringmaster Gregorio took a flask of whiskey from his back pocket, downed a swig from it and put it back in his pocket before explaining into his microphone, "This man was found to be attempting to sneak into the circus tent without paying."

Gregorio tipped his big black top hat toward the man as the man groaned in pain.

Continuing, Gregorio said, "This man will be given something special for his efforts."

The fat guy whimpered as Isa and Luscious took their places. Both clown midgets lay on their backs on either side of the trapped man who Gonza securely chained to a metal platform. Luscious spread open her legs and pulled the bottom of her tutu off, slinging part of the costume to the side. She had a tattoo of a snake on her cunt lip. Isa took off her polka-dotted, over-sized clown pants and spread her legs, in unison, with her son. A few moments passed before Isa's legs rubbed furiously together, creating sparks of fire. Luscious mimicked her mother's furious leg movements. Meanwhile, a fast moving stream of fire, much like a flamethrower, came shooting out of their cunts as their tiny legs furiously kicked up and down.

In awe, the crowd was spellbound and became perfectly silent as the gluttonous man's head began to catch afire. He screamed in agony. Gregorio, Gonza and the rest of the clown midgets laughed, heartily. In only a few seconds, the man was totally engulfed in flames, shouting for mercy and receiving none. Soon, his crispy corpse smoldered for a moment before crumpling into a stinking heap of ashen flesh.

Gonza and Gregorio shoveled the victims smoking remains in a nearby metal garbage vat. What wasn't completely crispy would be fed to the hungry wolves, later.

Nervously, the crowd applauded, fearing what might happen if they did not show satisfaction of the clown midgets' amazing tricks. One man, however, showed no fear and announced his displeasure.

The man, famous for his many quirky and comedic movie roles, stood up and said, "I don't think that was right."

Gregorio put down his shovel and picked up his microphone. Into his mike, Gregorio inquired, "And who might you be to think yourself capable of judging what's fair and what's not?"

The film actor stated, "Steve Buscemi, that's who."

Gonza quickly retrieved him from the stands. Buscemi struggled, frantically, and groaned in protest, desperately trying to free himself of Gonza's mighty grip.

Buscemi was chained to the metal platform, begging to be released, promising to give them substantial amounts of money if they let him go.

A clown midget named Jeepo appeared, did a cartwheel in front of the actor and completed an admirable back-flip, flapping his arms like a bird, before coming down head first onto the metal platform and bashing his head in, making a clanging, crunching noise that could be heard from the stands. A pool of blood gathered on the platform as Jeepo moaned. One of his clown midget brothers, Trotsky, came out, pulled down his pants and scratched his taint before dragging his injured brother off the stage.

Ivan, another clown midget performer, came running out. Stretching his arms outward, Ivan stood still and shouted, "Ta-Da!"

Ivan turned around and looked at the chained actor in the middle of the stage. The clown midget slapped his face, for comic relief and made a tiny "O" with his mouth to appear as if he was surprised at the actor's predicament.

Without hesitation, Ivan pulled his gigantic pecker from his neon green clown pants and pointed it toward Buscemi.

Ringmaster Gregorio asked the audience, "So do ya think Steve is going to have to do some suckin'?"

The audience collectively gasped. Buscemi's eyes grew wider than they ever had gotten during the filming of his past movies.

Abruptly, Ivan took a firm hold of his meat sword and quickly shot bullets from his pee hole. Each bullet went through Steve Buscemi's head as if it were made of facial tissue. Blood and fleshy bits flew everywhere. In a matter of seconds, there was nothing sitting on the actor's shoulders but a deformed pulp of bloody mush and some bits of skull mixed in.

The wolves rushed in, eyes red and glowing, and ate most of the actor's body, tearing his corpse apart.

Trotsky and another brother, Dragoff, came running out with their tarp. Some audience members chuckled at the sight of their little legs moving so quickly. Both brothers threw the tarp on Buscemi's disgusting remains and ran back where they came from, doing the occasional cartwheel, along the way. Everyone applauded their comical antics. Trotsky raised his leg and cut a fart so loud and with such force, the back of his little clown pants exploded.

Unable to resist the current spotlight, Dragoff came back to the center stage and stuck the wooden handle of a bloody shovel up his rectum and balanced himself on it, straight up from the surface. The sharpened tip of the shovel was embedded into the ground, several inches deep.

Ivan ran out and blared toward the crowd, "Ta-da!" After saying this, the clown midget promptly pissed his pants.

At that point, though, Dragoff sunk downward upon the shovel handle and found himself impaled upon it. Waving his arms like a pinwheel, his arms seemed like they blurred, in motion, to the audience. Suddenly, Dragoff's colon was busted open by the wooden handle. It didn't help that Ivan took the opportunity to jump on his back, hoping to share the spotlight. A moment went by before the handle went all the way through Dragoff's small body and exited out of his mouth before plunging through Ivan's right eye socket. Both circus performers screamed and tumbled, smashing forward into the hard, unforgiving ground.

Teeth, blood, bits of exploded colon and gore spilled forth in rivers from where they lay, motionless.

A teenager cheered and texted to her friend the act she had just witnessed. She texted:

OMG! I JUST SAW TWO CLOWN MIDGETS DIE BEFORE MY EYES. THEY WERE HILARIOUS!

One audience member clutched his chest, unsure how much more he could take. His wife, sitting next to him, patted her husband on the back and said, reassuringly, "It's going to be okay, honey. These people are really multi-talented."

Asmodeus, demon in disguise and the owner of the circus joined Trixie, arm in arm. Both of them had just made an entrance and took center stage. Asmodeus noticed the man who was clutching his heart and politely asked, shouting toward him, "Do you feel a pain in your chest, sir?"

The man shook a bit, sweating and then said, "I'll be... fine."

With that, Trixie pulled her arm slowly away from Asmodeus' arm. Like a frightening wraith, the once pretty, buxom blonde traveled up the bleachers and stood in front of the man who believed that he was about to have a heart attack.

Trixie curled her finger, slowly and beguilingly,until the man felt he should move his face closer to the pale woman's figure. She was whispering something under her breath. The man's wife said, "Go ahead, Sweety Pie," she coaxed, "The lady wants to probably show you a neat trick."

The man shuddered and nervously asked, "Are you a magician?"

Trixie lunged forward and stuck her forked tongue deep into the man's mouth, giving him a french kiss from hell. Despite his extreme fear, the man achieved a sizable erection. Trixie's long, snake-like tongue roamed around the inside of the man's trembling mouth.

Asmodeus suddenly ran up to the man, the wife and Trixie and then declared, "You're openly flirting with my woman! How dare thee!"

Horns sprouted from Asmodeus' head and he quickly transformed into his real identity. The frightening form of a demon stood before the aroused husband. Asmodeus' eyes glowed, red and fiery. The demon circus owner clutched the man's neck and thrust upward, popping the victim's head off from his body like the cork of a champaign bottle.

The head bounced from one bleacher seat onto the next until it finally plopped in a young woman's nachos and cheese. She was sitting in the front row, way down below. Nachos and cheese flew everywhere. Melted cheese and human blood splattered against her shirt. Instead of wondering about or doing anything about the mess or the decapitated head, she immediately took an electronic device from her handbag and texted her friend about how a human head landed, suddenly, in her nachos and cheese and how hard it would be to get the stains out of her shirt.

Meanwhile, Asmodeus was still enraged about Trixie's transgression against him. Instead of taking his anger out on her, however, he killed the man who had recently had a forked tongue dive into his mouth. Asmodeus' big red arms steamed. The arms of the demon rose above his head and the sides of the tent began to catch on fire. Everyone screamed, panicked and attempted to escape.

Suddenly the wolves with red glowing eyes and bared fangs came pouring into the tent again and began dispatching each circus attendee, who made it to the floor, with joyful and hungry abandon. Flesh, tattered clothes, phone gadgets, and lakes of blood could be found everywhere inside the tent.

Very few people got out alive that day and Asmodeus' Astounding Circus closed down for several months, disappearing without a trace, until it suddenly sprung up again in jolly old England.

Needless to say, the circus proved to be more popular than the Queen's Diamond Jubilee and the Summer Olympics being held in London, combined.

Asmodeus and Trixie are married now in unholy matrimony. And Trixie is constantly having to remind Asmodeus, every night, to take out the garbage. Gosh!

But that's another story.

Great Day With Dad

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Thu, 31 May 2012 22:37:00 +0000

My sister, brother-in-law and I took my dad to The American Watchmakers-Clockmakers Library and Museum in Harrison, OH. nearly a week ago. It is not only a library that gives individuals and groups tours of the museum but it is also a school for future watchmakers and clockmakers.

My dad, who has suffered a series of mini strokes in the last few years, on top of being in the early stage of dementia, seems to be doing better these days. This is not only great news for my sister, my cousin and I, who have taken care of him and endured many trials and errors, it is also good news for the assisted living staff at the place he currently lives in. He still has trouble walking, but the new doctor he's going to now seems to be putting him on the right track, health-wise. For one thing, she has taken him off some of his medication that was causing side effects inside him that was making matters worse. Dad still has trouble walking because of the mini-strokes and because of this, my sister arranged to get him a mobile chair, recently, through his insurance. Dad loves it. He gets to go places he wasn't able to in the past.

Speaking of the past, I know I've complained quite a bit about dad's belligerent behavior and how it has affected my sister and I's lives but it seems he has finally calmed down and allowed us to help him without debate and angry protests about pretty much anything.

It has also been more pleasurable, recently, taking dad places, other than the ongoing doctor appointments we are accustomed to taking him to in the past and present. We still have to take him to these important appointments- but now we have an opening- a bright spot, if you will, now, in all of our long suffering lives these past 6 years since Mom passed away. That sorrowful story has been told, one way or another, so many times on this blog, but I'm going to refrain from getting into it. I've grown weary talking about it, in truth. And I'd rather look forward instead of back. My family and I have all suffered enough.

This is a post of joy and discovery, after all.

The mechanical insides of a working clock. Yeah, that's my reflection in the glass.

My dad, who was a Master Watchmaker for close to 30 years, before having to close his watch repair/jewelry store in 1982, was delighted that we took him to this Watchmaker/Clockmaker's Museum. He got a big thrill out of it and it warmed our hearts to see him happy and interested in something again. Our tour guides were very thorough when they explained where each watch and clock came from and how watchmaking and clockmaking began so long ago.

I might add that my grandfather was a Master Watchmaker, too, for forty odd years. It is meticulous work, utilizing and moving tiny parts in a mechanical watch. Sometimes, it may take a minute to fix a watch. Other times, anywhere from a half hour to an hour. You need an eye loop magnifier to see the parts, in fact.

After dad closed the store, he learned how to become a mailman, to support our family, and was a rural route mail carrier for 17 years. I'm very proud of him for what he accomplished in his life and how he went from doing one thing he was comfortable with to something entirely alien to him, learning a new profession, altogether. My dad was a strong father figure to us, only weakened in his later years by mini-strokes and dementia. We love our father, through the tough times and the good.

This school, library and museum had many fascinating things within it. Such as: Clocks from the 17th century. Sundials from the year 600. Slot machine clocks from the late 1800's. Ropes and candles, which acted as time keepers and more. Not to mention a humongous pendulum and ball that sits in the middle of the museum. It is attached to a working mechanical clock tower that sits on top of the building. All of the clocks and watches you see in the following pictures and video clips come from all over the world.

There are only four watchmaker/clockmaker institutes such as this one in the entire country.

It is my hope that you'll check out the pictures and video clips below. Enlarge the pics to read about how each time keeping item worked. The videos are short but interesting.

Rope clock- which would be placed between a person's toes. It was lit and would slowly burn until it got to your toes. Each knot would represent a certain amount of time that had passed. A rough way to tell time, I would imagine. lol.

Regular sundial at the top and a sundial cannon time keeping item at the bottom.

As the candle wax melted, a little bell would drop and make a jingling sound, signifying that another hour passed by. Created by the Chinese, long ago.

Below are videos of our various tour guides explaining how some of the watches and clocks worked, where and when they were from and so on. We also visited a classroom where an instructor/guide was giving my dad and the rest of the family some info on what the watchmaking class was working on and learning that day. I sneakily videotaped the classroom with my new digital camera when the students and instructor weren't looking. Aren't I the devious one? Ha ha ha.

In conclusion, we had a wonderful day. A fantastic reprieve and excellent experience with dad. It was well worth going there not just for us, but for dad, especially. My sister thought of the idea and I am forever grateful to her. I provided the transportation and I was the camera man that day. :)

I will be posting the entire album of pictures and videos, taken here, on facebook, soon, if anyone is interested. Have a great day!

Jokes I Just Thought Up Because I'm Drunk and Reportedly Speak A Foreign Language

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Sun, 20 May 2012 04:42:00 +0000

While crossing the street, a nun is accidentally hit by a bus. It doesn't look good. Sister Ruby Goodshoes appears to be bleeding from every orifice of her body. A crowd gathers round the nun and a few text their friends about the incident while others take photos with their camera phones. The concern over the young woman is beginning to get overwhelming. One man, in an expensive suit, even considers calling the number for medical emergencies but calls his stockbroker, instead.

Suddenly, a man of much heft, waddles forward through the throng of onlookers and texters.

"Stand back!" the surly man commands.

The elderly man, driving the bus, comes out, visibly shaking and asked, "Is there anything I can do?"

"I can handle this", says the fat, bald-headed man, with complete calm, "I'm a doctor."

With that said, he quickly rips open the nun's shirt, tears off her bra and then pulls down his pants and commences to masturbate, furiously. In a matter of minutes, the fat man spews forth his jism upon the nun's shuddering chest. After his last squirt, her heaving breasts become still.

"Huh," said one concerned female pedestrian, previously chewing a wad of gum, "I think she's, like dead, or somethin'."

The fat, bald-headed man threw his arms toward the sky and exclaimed, "Well, I CAME as fast as I could!"

---------

This is a bus. It has wheels. Every so often, the wheels go round and round... round and round.

Several cops are pepper spraying a group of activists, outside the building where the G8 meeting is taking place. One of the activists, despite being blinded by the pepper spray, coughs profusely, yet still manages to shout, "Corporate interests are dominating what is reported and the world's governments and this forum of puppeteer-ed leaders is nothing but an insulting charade!"

Then the incapacitated man shakes and coughs, violently, before falling down and going into the fetal position. The cops quickly come to his aid by merrily beating him with their clubs after one officer falsely accuses the man, through a megaphone, of carrying a gun.

After the cops are done beating him and handcuffing him, a corporate executive walks up, pats the cops on the back and says to the cops, "These dummies certainly don't know when to quit. "

Bob, the policeman, replies, "Tell me about it. Five minutes ago, one of them was telling me "Global Warming" is real. After I laughed, I punched him in the belly and kicked him in the head and then I said, "You don't know what you're saying, friend. We still get snow here, about a couple times a year, when years before, we had actual seasons, when the weather patterns were relatively normal."

After Bob said that, he looked to his fellow officer and the corporate executive, awaiting comments, concerning his little speech he had given the rotten punk.

The other cop says, "Yeah... and the city was only flooded a couple months, straight, in a row."

The businessman said, "Yeah... and the temperatures are well above average only 364 days a year, here."

Suddenly, an intelligent man came up to all of them and said, "I couldn't help but to overhear your conversation. I just wanted to tell you people that you're just proving that the statements you've just made actually prove that victim's point- if you dare to think about it."

While laughing at the intelligent man, a bus abruptly jumps the curb and runs over everyone but him. Luckily, a fat bald-headed man hurriedly ran up, said he was a doctor and quickly jacked off on them as they took their last few breaths of life.

-------

Q: What do you get when you cross a squirrel with a turtle?

A: A fat, bald-headed dude ejaculating on somebody.

On that note... Have a great weekend! Oh, wait! I just thought up my quote of the day: Sometimes absurdity presents itself on many different levels in many different ways during this time, in which we live. One of the greatest qualities of the human race is that they are likely to progress through the absurdity, the tragic events we sometimes encounter. We need to laugh, love each other and remember the good times and the good contributions that mankind has made.

I think I need to go to bed. Gooooooooodnight.

Taking It Easy

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Wed, 16 May 2012 05:31:00 +0000

My wife and I took a drive to the park and had a nice relaxing time, recently. We needed a break.

Shelter house at Versailles State Park

Creek

Dam

Where my mom, dad, sister and our friends and relatives would camp. Mostly, it was just the four of us (sister,mom,dad and I) that would stay overnight when we were kids and teenagers. We slept in this heavy canvas tent. Sometimes ten of us could fit in there if we positioned ourselves just right. We would sit around the campfire, tell crazy, raunchy and entertaining stories and made the most noise in the park, out of all the guests, camping in the campground . The park rangers would tell us to quiet down a couple times while we were there but they were nice about it. We had a great time at site 116. There would be times when there were a dozen and a half of us, laughing and frequently enjoying ourselves with adult beverages and fun conversations. :)

This is the red wooden bridge from the inside as we drove. It goes between the town and the park. Look... there is a light at the end of the tunnel!

Cool Air Has Inspired and Enthralled

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Tue, 08 May 2012 05:10:00 +0000

The taint is dry. My brow is sweat-free. I can actually walk around in something besides my Cousin Eddie outfits.

Happy to report: The main AC unit has been officially repaired and installed in the wall. Before that, the temperatures ran around 80 degrees F. in the apartment. When the area around us wasn't getting pounded by thunderstorms and 40-60 mph wind gusts and hailstones, the temperatures rose to record numbers this time of year. Not even summer yet and it easily would get up to 85 degrees outside. Most of the time, I walked around in my underwear or boxers and a pair of sandals or black slippers. Nothing else. My wife warned me not to go outside, saying that I might get raped in my seductive get up. Somehow, I didn't believe her.

Watch Cousin Eddie, in action, below, in National Lampoon's Vegas Vacation. This is likely my least favorite "Vacation" movie of the series but it had it's moments. Methinks Cousin Eddie may suffer some anxiety disorder, at times. I can't fault him for being a moron, though. He's the entertaining kind of moron. God puts 'em on Earth for our entertainment, I think.

Beats being around a boring moron- one like most of us encounter each day, on several occasions. This clip below is not the "shitter was full" scene of National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation- but I like this scene. Everyone and their butt mole has got that one memorized and it has been shown to death. Hell, it's tradition for us to watch the Christmas one each year. I still get a boner when the girl in the red bathing suit is on the diving board of the fantasy pool. My wife ruins my mood by saying that when she flips her suit up in the air with her foot, she is cutting a pussy fart at the same time.

I also slap myself on my head to recall things.

Now I can come into this room, play games, make witty as heck comments on blogs and entertain myself by spouting off words of wisdom. By the way, I saw the mentally challenged man again at the park. He was still mumbling, frequently waving his arms up and down and made quacking noises. He paced back and forth, every so often shouting, "Gimbiddy Goobey Blaaarghh!"

The mother or caretaker of this person was looking at the picnic table she was sitting at, perhaps thinking of a creamy fudge bar or slitting her own throat. I know it's hard for people to take care of people when they're mentally challenged. I feel for them as much or more than the mentally retarded folks they take care of- they're like the unspoken heroes and people don't say enough good about them.

At least, he, the dude I was just yakkin' about, wasn't like this other asshole in the park. This old guy, The Curmudgeon, I call him. He was all stretched out underneath a shelter, sweating profusely, red in the face, swiggin' out of his bottle of whatever like he was thirsty or something. :) Anyway, he, of course, makes one of his negative remarks about how the weather is. He doesn't miss a chance, whenever we pass each other in the park, while walking, to say how crappy the weather is or if it is a nice day, he'll say, for example "Gee, it almost feels decent today."

After he says something that I don't really feel like fully absorbing in my brain because I know how his mind works, partially, I ask him, nicely, if he is okay. No sarcasm to my tone, whatsoever. He breathes in, sort of okay, but his breathing is a bit ragged. Based on this and his appearance, I had asked if he was okay. If he needed any assistance. Ever since I've had earlier dramatic incidents, this year, of people collapsing in front of me or onto me, in my arms, I'm a little anxious. I'm ready to call 911 on his crazy, obnoxious, old ass.

But he says that he's okay and I walk on my usual path. Apparently, he was "okay" because I saw him walking again. I tried to say hello to him and get him to stop, briefly, to ask how he was but he ignored me and made sure I knew he was doing it on purpose.

I thought he was being silly, vain and stupid. So I laughed each time as distance separated us when we walked in opposite directions. The next day, he must have known he looked like an ass because of his attitude because he immediately engaged me in a conversation about trips he and his wife have taken to Hawaii and other locations. At least, he isn't a total turd.

When people start conveying personal info, it's usually easier for me and quite a few people, I notice, to warm up to them. They seem more human. That's the lesson I take from it during my experiences of these kind. People play odd games. I like the straightforward, honest approach. Why be something you're not? Don't fear! Show yourself-- flaws, talents, interests and all.

By the way, my neighbor, across the street, has a dozen flags in his yard. Big flagpoles with American flags in his small yard. I don't know why he has them there. Memorial Day is quite a long time from now. I took a picture of his front yard-in case he kills me later on. He reminds me of the Bruce Dern character of the movie "The Burbs." The neighbor across the road from us is always sitting in his lawn chair in his open garage, watching the movements of all in the neighborhood.

True Tales of Perfectly Normal Kelly

noreply@blogger.com (Kelly) — Thu, 03 May 2012 06:35:00 +0000

Disclaimer: The following stories should be read as if they were written by someone completely sane, always politically correct and sensitive of others' feelings. They, most importantly, were written by somebody with a sense of humor. Scared? Don't be! I'm here to hold your hand as you take this special journey with me on my latest incidents of pure, wholesome normalcy. I promise not to give you that special smile, while we walk, that says 'I won't bash your head in with this bronze statue of Zues fucking a dolphin while the dolphin is porking a young handjob-maiden', I have behind my back, when you turn head away, next. You don't know how often you come across that common stylish item in those fancy antique stores, worldwide.

I farted.

But less importantly, I was taking my daily walk at the local park other day. It was a beautiful day, full of sun and a plethora of blooming trees and there was no one there to possibly bother me. Sure, I'm certainly a social butterfly that desperately needs adulation and continuous attention until I'm nauseous of the sticky slobbers of a googly-eyed stalker smooching on my ass because the stalker glorifies me... but sometimes, I just need some alone time. Like about 80% of the time.

Actually... I don't know what these guys are and what they're thinking. My ambition to find out where they come from and so on has been replaced by sudden feelings of ambivalence. Like, I don't know whether to bash this one dude's head in with a gargantuan frozen elephant turd or become inspired and secure, knowing that the human race will come together one day, not give a shit about material possessions and place honesty and understanding at the top of their priorities. Again, I farted.

Note: Googly-eyed fish will target and viciously attack your taint unless you have properly cleansed it to the point where it no longer carries the bouquet of aromas made up of shit, piss or pork. Because, you know they say humans smell like pigs or whatever... especially while they're burning. Look it up if you want to debate me about this most interesting of subjects while I busy myself with not being the least bit sarcastic.

Join Facebook! See the attention craving, crack-like addicts who won't stop commenting about that same boring shit, day after day! Watch people watch other people because they hear they are celebrities and that means something ridiculously important! Ya ever see a dumbass follow a trend to be more popular? Ya ever see a monkey picking a nit off another monkey in a zoo or while you're out on safari? Ya ever witness the increasing lack of creativity and open mindedness of anyone or mass of "anyones?" :) People remind me of that stuff and more. Think about it. And yes, I already know why they, the monkeys, pick the nits. But think about redundancy, for one thing. Jesus Christ in a snack pudding offering soul-saving bargains! Just think!

As I was taking my daily walk in the beautiful park, I cut a fart (go figure, huh?) and I squirt o' wee bit of shit in my underwear, of course. I don't care. As long as it's not running down my legs and causing a pond of chocolate delight around my feet, I continue onward to the bathroom.

I go in, clean the little bit of poop juice in my underwear, wipe the stuff from my asshole, place a small wad of toilet paper between the spots in the soiled fabric and my buttocks and when I get myself together again, shorts pulled up and so on, I wash my hands, thoroughly, go out the door and am automatically confronted with a large, six and a half foot tall guy, walking toward me, only a few feet away. He's wearing about a 5X sized purple shirt, walking towards me like a zombie, arms stretched out, forward direction.

No kidding about any of this.

He makes sounds with his mouth. I'm dazed by this sight, this giant monstrosity of flesh and insanity and my semi-severe anxiety disorder kicks in overdrive. Momentarily, I cannot move.

It sounds like he's saying, "Arburgagog Goalpostical Blarrrrrrrgh!" But I'm not sure. I was frightened and in shock. I just know he wasn't speaking English. I also felt shit start to rumble in my colon again, threatening to erupt from ye ol' blow hole. In other more sensitive wording. I figured I was about to have a repeat performance of the other fiasco I just endured. This sudden attack, that would have probably scared the shit out of most anyone besides me, made my head spin, wondering what carnival freak show I suddenly happened upon.

I saw a shirt this other day. He might has well as worn this shirt:

I have since learned, by actually being curious enough to find out what Doma Arigato means, that one of it's meanings come from the language of the Japanese. Domo Argato translates, in English as: Thank you very much. In his case, I suppose it could also mean "Thank you very much for giving me the opportunity of giving you a heart attack and instant bowel movement."

I quickly came to my senses, before he was a foot away and darted out the park bathroom door entrance. While walking, quickly, on my pained feet and scrambling away as if I was being chased by Bigfoot's deranged uncle, I realized four things. One, I was successful in commanding my buttocks to keep in any fecal matter. Two, I think the boy/man was autistic and had a "solid wall of retard" for a body. Shhh... My sensitivity and naturally instilled political correctness is leaking out again. And three, about as most importantly, his caretaker or mother or whoever he was with, obviously, was a middle aged, unconcerned person who saw what occurred and sat on a bench seeming not to give a shit about anything. That could be considered a mistake if the mentally-challenged behemoth was going towards somebody with violent tendencies who didn't scamper away, trying desperately to hold his gravy shits back. Four, I hadn't taken my Valium that day, yet.

I'm thinking about making a custom made shirt for myself. It will read: I'm a sufferer from depression and anxiety disorders. Please refrain from allowing your own craziness and your human keeping responsibilities "entities" (like mentally retarded youngsters and unbalanced young men and women) and whiny brats to come within a solid yard from me or I will freeze up and/or go on a killing spree. Thanks!

That might be a little too long and I know most people generally have a low attention span. I might just go with: Fuck off! You people bother me!

I'm okay with stress when it's not of the sudden shocking kind. For instance, the other night, my wife and I were riding home in a gusty-as-hell, lightening filled, bucket filling kind of thunderstorm the other night. I was driving. I knew I wouldn't panic because I could see, before getting back out onto the interstate highway for the 30 mile trek back home, it was going to be a doozy. Instead, I calmly drove the truck home, hands firmly and courageously stable on the steering wheel and slowing moved around the ponds of water on the sides of the roads.

As long as I know what's coming, I'm alright.

Yesterday, we had another thunderstorm. It knocked the electricity out for four hours. I took a nap in the middle of the thunderstorm. They had tornado "watches" for several neighboring counties on the TV before I took my nap. Note: Four weeks ago, we had a dozen tornadoes ravage our state and a couple nearby states. I wrote a blog post about it. When I got up, it was starting to get dark. I lit a couple candles to see the toilet, furniture that I could stub my toe on and so on. Then I put on some sweat pants and looked out on the balcony. Even though it was getting dark, it was beginning to hail quarter sized hailstones, along with 60 mph wind gusts and rain. And about an hour later the electricity came back on.

Quarter sized hail is nothing for me. I lived during the "148 tornado and baseball-sized hail stone incident" in 1974. There was a tornado in our back yard at one point. I didn't have anxiety disorder back then so I quickly ran to the window, against my screaming parent's will, to check out the very real tornado. A couple hours later, my younger sister and I started to go outside and collect hailstones like Easter eggs, from the grass, putting them in our Playmate coolers to later store them in the freezer. Of course, finding no practical usage for them, we threw them back out on the ground after a week.

In hindsight, I should have kept them, went up the big tree in the yard and threw them at cars that passed by our house. Oh well.

Even though it's fascinating to watch hail, quarter-sized or larger, come down for some people and even me, when I'm in the mood, I am more concerned about my vehicles. I was hoping it wouldn't damage my truck this time. Not only is that truck a "deer magnet", but I was thinking that the hailstones might dent the body or crack the glass.

Other than this stuff going on, including a non working AC unit in 87 degree weather and other smaller problems, things seem to be getting better for me.

That's all I got for now. Have a great weekend! I'm sure I'll stop by your blog, soon, to offer you a cordial comment full that's sure to be chock full of whimsy and wit. Beats being chock full of shit, any day of the week, right? Later!