Sunday, April 29, 2012

A year has passed, been pounding on this bloggy thing for an entire year.  Happy birthday, dear bloggy audience, raise yer hand if you've been with me the entire time.  Yeah, ok, good.  You can put your hand down now, as if I can see you thru the cable modem thing.  duh.

I must get some good therapy out of it, since I'm willing to keep it going.  Maybe I'm addicted to revealing my goofy thoughts to you.  Remember when I was doing the Val updates?  Several people suggested I put them into a book.  Or maybe they were suggesting I write a book.  Who would pay for this, though??? Clearly none of you have sent a contribution...even when my keyboard was not working right and I had to get a new one, no one sent $20 to replace it, no one sent a WallyMart gift card with a note:  "that missing N is killing me, please use this to get a new keyboard, you bloggy bastard!"

I suspect if Uncle Google decided to make everyone pay to use the site, everyone would say "F You, Uncle Goo, I'll go somewhere else for my daily dose of gibberish."  I know this to be true, you see....we've changed forums with my riding club and half of the former members won't take the 5 minutes to fill out a 2 free forms so they can continue to be a part of the best mc riding club in the county.  Hell, some of you people won't take 3 minutes to fill out a form so that you can post comments.  And some of you, like Sheila, for example, has filled out the form, all she has to do is log in.  It's ok, though, since she will post her comments on the FB page thingy.

And now, let's discuss inaccurate phrases.  You know...those phrases that people say that SEEM to mean something, but actually mean something else.

I slept like a baby last night.  So you mean to say that you woke up every couple hours screaming, crying, wetting and crapping the bed?

Worked like a dog.  This means you spent the day sleeping on the couch, sleeping on the floor, sleeping on the bed, peeing on a tree, sleeping in the sun, sleeping in the shade, crapping on the grass, sleeping some more, until it's time to go for a 20 minute walk.

Soft as a baby's bottom.  I don't have any experience with a baby's bottom.  I know what comes out of them, and I don't want anything to do with it or them.  I did, however, once give a massage to an 18 year old girl.  Her bottom was indeed soft.  And smooth.

This would be a perfect time for a lotion, moisturizer  and sunscreen commercial, don't you think?

Drunk as a sailor.  Like every industry, sailors on duty are not allowed alcohol.  Except the captain of the ship, and they're not supposed to be drunk ever!  But, as we know, the bastards don't follow that, do they!  Pirates, don't follow the no drinking, so it'd be much more fun to be a pirate.  Booty, Swag, Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh.  Peg legs, eyepatch, hook for a hand....

Why did the chicken cross the road.  No one knows, and not too many chickens are running around loose, except on Kuaui.  The better question is:  why does the squirrel cross the road?  If you could trap the bastard and ask him, I bet he won't remember.  Talk about enjoying every minute of insanity and ADHD....those fuckers run around all the time.

This could rapidly deteriorate into stoked, blast, sick, etc.  Been there, done that, wearing a thrift store T shirt.  Speaking of deteriorate....have you seen the side of my pickup lately?  Holy Rusty bucket.  It has a sticker on the thing, says:  Northland edition, which clearly means nothing, because it was not given any more rust proofing than the desertland edition.  

We have dog years, leap years, how about vehicle years?  hmmmmmmmmmm
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