2: 100: 30.

Buoyant colorful dervish cavorting cross the stained hardwood,
dancing dragon golden with bouncing russet tails,
twining collapsed folding tables,
vaulting overturned stacks of chairs,
winding the obstacle course,
mop bucket slop and spilled drink,
rogue balloons and rubber chickens,
music echoing in the distance,
cross the barren conffetti strewn landscape.

Lets give it up for a little harmless absurdity.

Question for the day: If its true that the meaning of life is simply doing the next thing, then how come so many of us seem to be getting nothing done?


Todays rant:

Have you noticed that people don't really do anything fun anymore? I don't mean individually, I mean as a group.

It seems that sometime in my lifetime the assholes took over. The perfectionists, the people who (in spite of their own inexperience) want to tell the rest of us how things are done, the obsessively compulsively cool pricks of both genders who can't stand the idea of not taking themselves seriously for a second or two. These are the people who have taken over. Bean counters, paper pushers, attorneys, accountants, MBA's, and others with no sense of the ridiculous... They're slowly but surely sucking us all into their blandly warped reality.

Poison Oak.

In the smoke hazed autumn evening,
twining round the old rowen,
speckle dotted,
lacework of holes,
wisps of scarlet flame in the setting sun,
wrapping the aging pitted trunk,
winding towards eternity.

10 year anniversary

Yep, ten years ago today the state told me that I could legally purchase and consume alcohol. And, as I sit here at 9:30 in the morning, sipping my frosty cold beer and trying to calculate just how many gallons of ethanol my liver has processed in the last decade, I can't help but notice how much the world has changed.

Here is a short list of things that haven't changed that much in the last ten years.

When I turned 21 I worked the grave yard shift and then went home to an empty apartment and a full bottle of single malt scotch; today I worked the grave yard shift, then came home to an empty apartment and a full case of home brew.
When I turned 21, the primary topic of conversation was the recent increase in gasoline prices, still is.
Ten years ago, a lot of people were expressing concern about the Presidents crooked dealings (gee, glad to see that has changed).
Ten years ago I spent a good portion of my working day training people who were making more than I was, now I just have to put up with the idiocy of people who make more than I do.
When I turned 21 I spent a fair amount of my free time nursing cuts, scrapes and black eyes; now I spend a goodly amount of my time nursing arthritic hands, chronically sore feet, and old injuries that never healed up right.
When I was 21 I wanted to take on the world, now I'll be happy to just sit back and let it destroy itself.

Now for the things that actually are different.

10 years ago I had an alcohol induced ulcer the size of my thumb, that is no longer the case (completely healed, not the other thing).
I had not met 95 percent of the people I know now.
I had never been out of the country.
I didn't have any un-used education or superfluous degrees.
I had a much higher tolerance for human stupidity.
I was much less patient.
I still gave a shit.



Yep, nothing like a birthday to make you realize just how much you've been spinning your tires.

Another year closer to the finish line and not a damn thing to show for it.

So that's what lies there...