See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains. - James 5:7

Friday, July 04, 2008

The last days of Johannes Paulus I (Albino Luciani 1978)

30 years ago. I love him.

Sort of like gay marriage.

This is what frequently happens in same sex relationships - when there happens to be a huge age gap or people have been together for a very long time. In fact - straight relationships often turn out like this too - if the couple has lived together for a long time without benefit of marriage and no children. Yes. That can be kind of gay.

Drunk Again





I'm thinking of starting another new blog - just because I'm bored.


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It would add balance to all the other blogs dedicated to writing about the 12 steps; you know, it would be for people who like being alcoholics. I'd call it, "Drunk Again".

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Being a nation which celebrates Independence Day - we sure have a lot of restrictions. No drunks allowed. No smoking anyplace, no drinking while driving, smokers and drunks are discriminated against - but oh boy! Uncle Sam sure likes to tax them. Marijuana and other drugs are illegal. No shoes, no shirt, no service - which is entirely bogus BTW. No prostitutes, even though gay people are getting more and more rights and can do what they want. (Many drink a lot too.) You can't say hateful things to or about people anymore. Gosh - you can't even burn your trash. There are so many freedoms curtailed in this country that I'm beginning to think this July 4th crap is really over-rated.
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Maybe we should start a war or something to get people feeling more patriotic.
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At least liquor stores are open on the 4th now days.



Only the good die young.





I believe there is some truth to that.

Thursday, July 03, 2008

A 4th of July Story



"What the man who lives on the corner did while working in his yard the day before Independence Day." By Terry Nelson

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One day, today actually, I was working in the yard planting grass seed when I decided I needed to take a break. I went in and got my cigarette lighter, a sleek black Bic. I wanted a cigarette, but I said to myself, "No Mr. Man! No smoking for you!" I then returned outside and sat on the boulevard. The grass is all yellow and dry because we have had very little rain in the past month and naturally I have not watered the boulevard because the city used salt on the street this past winter and it killed all the beautiful grass I planted last year, which made me very, very angry.

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Anyway, I tried setting the dried, weed infested dead grass on fire. But it didn't burn more than 3 square inches at a time. (I also had a hose handy just in case it really did burn.) Although I was alone, I said to myself, "And yet people yelled at me when I'd throw cigarette butts out my car window as I drove, screaming at me that I could start a grass fire." (Of course, I'm positive many of these same people throw their beer cans and pop cans and french fry bags out of their car window onto my boulevard for me to clean up.)

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So after a couple of tries, I got bored with trying to see how easy a grass fire would start, and quickly went into the house to get my smoke bombs and cherry bombs and fire-crackers. (My neighbors are so lucky I do not have a gun.) I carefully placed several of them in ant holes around the yard to blow up their sinister tunnels by which they infiltrated my yard. (5th Column movement, you know.) I pretended it was war and the ants were filthy, despicable Germans. Nazis. I later tried to blow up a short wall along side my driveway - since I have to rebuild it anyway. I was pretending I was doing demolition work with explosives after a nuclear attack that killed off all of the ants. Unfortunately, the cherry bombs did little to no damage, so I will still have to rework the wall by hand - and the ants were still there.

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I realized it would be best if I resorted to guerrilla tactics, and so it became necessary to use chemical weaponry. I got out the smoke bombs. I positioned myself behind the fence and placed them in prominent locations - though heavily camouflaged - like landmines, but not really. They were embedded in the ivy along the fence. As kids were coming by from the park across the street, I'd light them and they would get all excited wondering where and why the smoke was - it was simply a diversionary tactic - until suddenly, the neighbor lady came running around the corner because, "After seeing all of the blue smoke, I thought maybe your hedge-trimmer... or something had blown up! Are you okay?" Then the police came by and we waved and I went back to work after assuring Mrs. Kravetz everything was fine.

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The End.

Monday, June 30, 2008

What Bishop DiLorenzo knew.



Stunningly disappointing.
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"The Roman Catholic bishop of Richmond was told that a diocesan charity planned to help a teenage foster child get an abortion in January and did not try to prevent the procedure." - Rorate Caeli
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Two thoughts.
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I don't know the bishop of course, but it seems to me it wasn't as if the bishop was prevented by outside forces from investigating the matter further, and intervening.
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I really think many people - even in the Church (I'm not saying this is the case with DiLorenzo) - are not convinced abortion is murder - they do not believe that a human life is actually ended by the barbarous procedure. Or worse, they just do not care.

Pride weekend.


And hetero-phobia.
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I just want hetero-phobes to note I did not post any queer stuff this weekend - just because I am nice and you don't like it when I do anyway.

Sunday, June 29, 2008

Change - Lisa Stansfield

She is so cute!

LISA STANSFIELD - CHANGE!!!!!!!

And so, then, yep, this is so my anthem...

Lisa Stansfield - Real Love

Awesome.

Lisa Stansfield - All Woman

I love this woman.

Family vacation time.



Mystery and adventure make for fun get-aways.
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Once, when I was in 8th grade, my parents went out to do some errands on Friday night. They said they would be gone for awhile so I could fix supper for my little brother and myself - mom said, "You like doing that." (No, I really didn't.).
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They never returned until the following Sunday afternoon, asking as they walked in the door, "Anybody call?" Later, I finally asked where they had been; they explained they needed a little vacation. Parenting can be very difficult.
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The End.

The waiting room.



And something about this blog...

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Remember the scene from "As Good As It Gets" when Jack Nicholson's character is sent away by his therapist? Jack is leaving the office and walking through the waiting room, when he stops, looks at all of the other patients in the room and asks: "What if this is as good as it gets?" The other patients look at him, a few seem quite uncomfortable, although no one responds. I'm sure most of them dismissed his question and attributed it to his usual inappropriate behavior problems, thinking to themselves, "He's nuts!" Or, "He's just shooting off his mouth again."
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At that moment Jack's character finally got it. While the others in the waiting room simply blew him off.