Dear Diary

I write myself a diary and do a blog and sometimes I get them mixed up. Lately I have been blogging more than diarying. Which is close to saying I have a bowl disorder. It is more of a writing disorder though. I am in one of those writer's block moods today.
It is because I have been cursing my cursor lately. You know that little line that seems to be ahead of every letter that is typed on a computer page or link or whatever. Which is another thing that is bothering me. Why is it called a link? A page is a page because it is written on paper. A link? Now that is confusing to me since link is a golfers term. I am not hitting a little ball around when I type what I think. I pound the keys, so maybe like a boxer we could call it a ring instead of a link. I think that would make more sense. Yep! I am typing in the rink as I pound my computer keys. English and words in English and word meanings have always confused me. I was good in the bin with Ben who has been kissing Jen on her bean. Bin, Ben, Been, and Jen is not confusing to anyone else but me. Especially since Jen turned out to be a man. Which is ok with Ben but not me, even though Ben turned out to be the girl. I am not prejudice but only queezy in that man on man lip thing. Now what has that to do with English? It is that some words in the English language are considered masculine and some feminine. Where do the gay words come in? What are the gay words in English? Why do I keep getting homosexual, bisexual and heterosexual mixed up? Why can't we just be sexual? I think homo means one, bi means a couple but how many is hetero?
I'd like someone to straighten this out, but being straight offends some people. So I guess I must stay bent? Whereas getting bent is some kind of insult, which I never understood what the hell that meant either. Now I heard that English is going to be the official language of the USA. I was brought up in an Irish, German, Polish family, and neighborhood, in the wonderful state of Pennsylvania. I went to Boston and they speak different than Pennsylvanians. We have trouble with the word roof, they in Boston, have trouble parking their cars. Are dialects or southern people going to get fined or arrested for having an accent? What accent is the proper USA English one? North, South, East or West one? I guess that will be the next bill the congress or senate will have to debate an pass now. I am confused about the Turkey and Eagle also. If the Eagle is our national bird why do we have a special holiday for the Turkey? I don't want to eat an Eagle, but we should have an Eagle day. The fourth of July doesn't count because we fly flags not Eagles. It would be bad to tie an Eagle to a pole then wave it around. After re-reading this I am also convinced that maybe having writers block might have been better than writing this after all!

Most frightening words in the world are..............

"I am a Christian."
Now, maybe they are not the most frightening words in the world but they sure make me run down the street when someone approaches me. I am not an over religious person. I do go to church every Sunday, well, actually, the late evening one on Saturday. I believe in God and I am a Christian. I am amazed that I can break the Ten Commandments, and I have. All I have to do is ask God to forgive me and he will. Like Father Guido says, God gives us $14.35 for each day we live and when we die we have to pay for our sins with the cash we earned while we were alive. I believe that too! As for me when someone breaks my own Ten Commandments then I have a hard time forgiving them. Now I believe each of us has our own Ten Commandments, which we have made up, that our friends and family must follow. I have never put them in writing and believe me they change a lot, which is why I could never write them in stone. Just think a minute. If you had to write the 10 Commandments what would you write? A non-smoker might make people not smoke around them as a commandment for instance. A smoker might make it a commandment to let people smoke where ever they wanted. So what would yours be? Today mine would be:

1. Thou shalt never say anything bad about me, ever, even if you want to.
2. Thou shalt remember my birthday and also give me presents for my birthday, on Christmas and candy for Easter.
3. Thou shalt let me take a day off from work any time I want, and pay me for it.
4. Honour my father and mother by lying to them when you see me doing something bad and they ask about it.
5. Thou shalt not hurt me or kill me. Even if I piss you off real bad.
6. Thou shalt not try to date or go to bed with anyone I like. Believe me Jesse James is in big trouble since he married Sandra Bullock.
7. Thou shalt not steal from me or borrow anything from me I already stole or borrowed from you.
8. Thou shalt not lie about me to my face, behind my face or if my face isn't around, but put up with my tall tales about you.
9. Thou shalt remember that this commandment is whatever comes to my mind at the time you are not listening to me.
10. These commandments can only be changed by me and obeyed by you. So, don't duplicate them for your own use.

On second thought maybe I should let God handle the commandments.

Hey you, you, you and you?

I met a person that had many personalities and knew every one. When at a party, that person had a personality, that was the life of the party. When at a funeral that person slipped into a morner. When at a sports event the fan emerged. When in work the perfect worker clocked in right on time. This person could blend in well in any event by changing personalities to fit the situation. Each personality actually had a name. Some of the personalities had nicknames to fit the situation. For example in Church the name was a saintly one. In the supermarket the name was an impatient one while waiting in line. The personalities were so different that if one got in trouble the others would come to the aid of the distressed one. This person was single, because there was always plenty of company inside the personality lounge that lived in the brain that housed all these personalities. Each personality took responsibility for the actions acted out in the situations it emerged in. If some person, who worked with the work personality, happened to see the supermarket personality the next time in work they would say to the work personality, "Hey I saw you at the supermarket the other day." The then work personality would say, "Yes and I saw you but I wasn't myself." Which was true in a sense.

It's just that.............

I decided to talk in circles the other day to someone and found out that even though I did and could, I really did not get or go anywhere. I wasn't in a physical circle but in a room sitting in one chair and the person I was talking to was sitting in another. I don't write in my blog everyday but think about the people that don't read it constantly. What exactly are they reading? Maybe I don't blog well or have the wrong concept of a blog? It didn't matter much that that black cat almost crossed my path. The cat stopped looked over its shoulder at me then decided not to cross my path but go back underneath the porch it came sauntering out of. That is why my favorite ride of all rides is the Merry-Go-Round. I loved those wooden painted horses when I was a kid. The way they went up and down and around in that circle was great. I pretended I was Roy Rodgers or Gene Audry picking off bandits and robbers being spotted when passing those people over and over again. Of course the ice cream wasn't that bad either. What is it with circles? People draw them on paper, in the dirt with sticks, in the air with their fingers or just fill them in with their pencils when reading a boring article in school. Planets circle, stars circle, circles circle. In a round about way of course. Which brings me back to my original circle of talking; or in this case writing in circles. Which is not true. I did not draw a circle around my computer then sit in the middle of it and type away. I just imagined it. I like making circles with my arms around special people then drawing them into me ending up with a hug. That's a nice circle. Want one?

Suicide Bomber Training Camp

I was interested to hear that the terrorists are running out of Suicide Bombers. I guess the problem is that they are all committing suicide. The Japaneese had the same problem during WWII, so you would think the terrorists would have learned. Then I found out that one of the instructors was captured. Maybe the students turned him in. I talked about this at an AA meeting (Alcoholics Annonymous) and began wondering if the Suicide Bombers have meetings. For example, "Hello! My name is Abu and I am a Suicide Bomber. I have been a bomber for 30 days. I just cannot seem to get on that bus. I get near the bus, but just cannot get on it." The advice could be, "Just don't think about it. Once on the bus you'll be fine. The air conditioners rarely work so it is unbearably hot and stickey. The driver is always in a bad mood and will probably make trouble for you if you don't have the right change. The bus will be overcrowded and stinkey. Believe me by the time you find a seat you will be happy to pull the cord on the knapsack and blow all those infidels and yourself up!"

Then there is the school itself. First off no seats because the classes are short. You probably go in and they take roll call. Then the terrorist teacher shows the students a knapsack with a cord that blows up the knapsack after you pull the cord.
The cord is probably color coded so you can easily identify it. There are possibly two cords a primary and a back up like a parachute. The terrorist teacher says something like, "Put on the knapsack and pull the primary (Red) cord after you get on the bus or find a seat in the lunch place or simply blend into a group of infidels. If the primary (red) cord doesn't work pull the secondary (green) cord. Some people like to pull the both cords at once because that usually gaurantees a successful explosion and you get double the virgins." Then they sign papers designating what family member gets the insurance once they blow themselves up.

There probably is a graduation with robes because even in the states students that graduate only wear the robes once. Finally the surviving relative can give the graduation robe to one of the females in the family so she can have a new dress.

Not another Vortex! ~()~

I am sleeping now! Am I sleeping now? Whatever! I am back in the vortex of darkness with words that are floating at fantastic speeds setting off synaptic signals of electric thought. Crashing, bumping, crushing and disappearing madness between sleep reality and awakened unrealities. There is thunder somewhere out there distancing awareness from me. I cannot feel the wetness of the rain but here it knocks around while tapdancing those last hysterical steps before exploding into fragments of water shrapnel when contacting immovable objects fastened to the earth. The sentence runs on and on creating word after word and leaving them like footsteps so a reader can follow and interpret them while adventuring into the writers mind. The swirling continues inside the vortex. Yet! There is no movement but thought. Then even thought ceases to move. Blackness overtakes the darkness and soothes its silken fingers throughout the now restful mind. Solitude shrinks into numbness and I am off to another sequence of dreams.

Moi President?

I have been thinking about the upcoming presidential election. You know the one where we Americans vote for a president to run the United States. When I was little I use to think that America was all the way down past Mexico and included all those other places which I thought were states. I just figgered that we ran out of stars and stripes because if we added them all, our flag would be too big. Later on as I grew older I wondered why Americans only let Southern America use and sell drugs. It wasn't until after I turned 30 plus I got sober and found out that North America was the United States one. I was pretty amazed that Canada wasn't a part of the United States and Alaska and Hawaii was. LSD sure ran my life for a long time making me not really want to get involved in politics.

So, after Garcia died, I began to realize then that I did not like the people that were United States Presidents. I didn't like Clinton and I am really not all that found of Bush. I am not a registered Democrate or Republican. Here is another interesting fact. Republicans are not all Italians. I thought Italians were republicans because I thought that since Rome was a Republic, sometimes, that only Italians were Republicans. Which explains why I thought Lincoln was Italian. That and why Lincoln had that big wart.

Therefore I think I am letting everyone knows that reads my blog that I am now a candidate for president of the Northern part of America. Not the Southern part. Not that I would not mind being president of that place too! If I was president of both of them then we would not have to worry about illeagle people in either the north or south part of America.

My plan for criminals would to put them all on an airplane and ship them to those countries that don't like us. Let them have a taste of what really bad Americans are and maybe they will say, "Hey those Americans, we were terrorizing, weren't as bad as we thought. Now that we see what kind of other "really bad" Americans there are, we don't want anything to do with any kind of Americans." I got that idea from Castro and Jimmy Carter, so you see I did learn something and have some experience.

I'd let North America in on the drug profits that South America is getting. Why should they have a monopoly. Isn't America suppose to support free enterprise and not monopolies?

I am not married so I could have a "Pick the First Lady" reality show every year just like American Idol. I think celebraties should make up my cabinet because that way instead of income taxes we could just have benefits and concerts. I think people would rather spend money on those things and see their favorite people or bands instead of the tax thing.

I would make "The Daily Show" my press people. All of them.

My Vice President would be someone all Americans will hate so I don't get Assassinated. I got this idea from Bush! See more proven experience I gots.

I got a few more ideas also. Since no one ever reads my blog I probably won't run. I need something called "support!" Well, if anyone ever does, let me know and what you want a president to be so I know what to do. Thanks.

Blinded Mind Eyes

I have a friend who is blind. Which makes me wonder just what blind really is? The amazing thing about my blind friend is that she is writing a book. When someone is blind, writing a book is something the sighted person takes for granted. She is a twin and her sister has sight. It was some strange physical misfortune that she was blind and her sister was not, which is unimportant right now. She can type, on a typewriter, computer, and braille machine more accurately than most people I know. My basic job is to reread what she has written and correct any typing errors for her. I paste and cut for her and had to learn a few rules so she can write. One rule is that when she tells me to stop reading I must. If I continue to read she loses her concentration; so it is important to her for me to stop reading when she asks me to stop. Another thing I must do is be able to really read the words with feeling so she can tell if her writing has meaning. I must pronounce all the words and not skip any. It took me awhile to realize words like a, the, and small insignificant words, can really make a difference if missed and taken for granted. What is impressive is that I only have to read what she has written back to her once or twice and her memory somehow keeps every word, sentence and paragraph in order. For example I was reading a part of her draft and she interrupted me and said, "skip that and go to the part that starts, "While we were sitting around the campfire." Then she can adjust these pages and do all her cut and pasting in her mind. I asked her if she can see words in her mind and she says she just. "knows" what the words are, where they are and what comes next.

This at first seems like it could be a boring enterprise. Sometimes it is when I have to sit and wait while she repeats a section of what she has written out loud. Then somehow I get drawn into her book and the time rushes by. I am at the point where I can almost know when to stop reading without her asking me to stop. It is hard for her because in her mind she can go right to the page, word, paragraph or sentence in her mind in a second, but must wait for me to scroll up or down looking for the page she is mentally at, and I must physically find. Therefore she is waiting for me more than I for her.

She is a very good writer which makes it all the more interesting. She had this wonderful section written which I thought was just fine. Then she started changing and rearranging the feeling of the book and when she was done I was astounded at how much more emotion she developed into her story. It is like another sense that was sharpened because of her physical blindness. She described a scene where she was sitting next to a stream and I could actually feel the water and the ferns she was touching.

I guess I am writing this to encourage anyone who wants an uplifting and emotional experience to find a blind person and take the time to read to them, help them write and be their eyes for awhile. I gaurantee by the time you are done your own blindness will be well on the way to being cured.

Simply simple!

I was jogging around the internet and decided to return to my blog which I was suprised to find that 3 people read one of my blogs. Of course I did not understand the one about the trees but hey! I also discovered some people have trouble with the term "simply." What is the problem with simply being a simple person with a simple mind about simple things? Must everyone who writes on the Internet have some profound message? I just like to mess around with words and ideas and let my simple imagination fly. To me the greatest thing about the Internet Blog thing is that people can be free with their simple thoughts and simple words. That doesn't mean that I am adverse to intelligent thoughts and philosophical ideas that are only for the elite minds of the Internet. I just have more fun admitting I know simply nothing and have simply nothing to offer but just a fun time to write some simple stuff simply.

Methynervouspredbreakdownnisolsuicideone

Well if that isn't a mouth full of words. Methylprednisolone is a fancy word for Medrol. It is taken for allergic disorders; blood diseases; breathing problems; certain cancers; eye diseases; intestinal disorders; collagen and skin diseases. Methylprednisolone is a corticosteroid hormone (glucocorticoid). I hurt my back and this is what I got to cure it!

Nervous breakdown suicide is just the side effect I am having that may be the mental/mood changes (e.g., mood swings, depression, agitation and some sleep problems with a touch of dizziness).

So I called my doctor and reported the side effect symptoms.

After 4 or 5 hours the nurse calls back and says, "We do not know what the side effects are." Call your pharmacist "tomorrow" if the symptoms continue!

HUMMMM!

This is where giving medication and taking medication has evolved to. The patient must read the enclosed medication literature, have some side effects and then educate the doctor on the medication he perscribed. It makes sense because the poor doctor perscribes so much medicine how can he keep up with all the uses, side effects and the precautions these medicines may cause. I mean if you look at the Physicians Desk Reference Book (PDR) you will see hundreds possibly thousands of medications listed. What is a poor doctor to do?

So what if a patient has a nervous breakdown and then commits suicide! It cannot be the doctors fault because it is not his responsibility to know anything about the medicine he perscribes.

It then falls to the Pharmacist! He is responsible because he gives out the medicine the doctor writes down on a small square bit of paper.

The patient. Well either he survives the cure or is buried in the perscribed undertaker box.

Maybe going back to using leeches and blood letting isn't such a bad idea after all!!!

Is anybody out there?

Why do people write notes or letters before they commit suicide? I mean if no one listened to them before what makes them think someone will read or care about the words they left behind? It is obvious that the suicidal person will never see the reaction to these self imposed death sentences. Nor will they know if anybody cared to correct their spelling or comment on their commas. Will someone take time to paraphrase their paragraphs? Will one single person hyphen their death at all? I think a few people might make comical references linking them to their colons and semi-colons. Will all their memories and ideas be buried in coffened parenthisis? Whatever! The final result isn't in a long or short sentence, only that their life has ended period.

The shadow of your cat.

Why do cat's like to chase their shadows?

Just asking in case you got boored, ended up reading my blog and have nothing better to do than answer questions about pu.......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................
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rring cats.

Inspire-ation

What Motovates You?

Lately it seem my motovation is wrapped around my inspiration that lacks imagination. I am having one of those days and cannot seem to get it together. I not sure what it is that I have to get together. What is it? When someone says to you, "Get it together!" What it are they talking about? I am not an IT! Nor do I want to be an it. Humm. I wonder if it is something I wear or carry around in my pocket? Next time someone tells me to "get it together," I will just have to ask them what the hell is it that they want me to get together.

That's the way IT is!

Chumly

Behind the Eyelids

What is behind your eyelids? The first thing may be blackness. Then you may perceive small little dots. The dots are like the ones that create the pictures on your television. There may be flashes of light as you turn your head toward a light source with your eyes closed. You might possibly see some after images, that is images of the last thing you saw before you closed your eyes. If you keep your eyelids closed for too long then eventually you will fall asleep.

Good night
Chumly

Beyond The Sea

What does the show "Lost," "Beyond the Sea," and "Bobby Darin" have in common?

MEDIC

I love the VAH's or Veterans Administration Hospitals! Especially because I am out of work and have no other insurance. I find the care is better than some HMO's I have had in the past but with these differences:

Instead of calling 911 for an emergency. The Veteran must put on his old uniform and lay in his yard and scream MEDIC at the top of his lungs until help arrives.

When the helicopter comes, the Veteran must be sure to strap himself/herself securely in the basket. If it is a long trip the crew will pull up the basket into the helicopter. If it is short trip the basket will not be brought up fully into the "Chopper" and it is advised for short trips to strap oneself face down in the basket in case of air sickness. Also wear warm clothing.

For regular appointments get there early so you can wait. Do not be discouraged there are televisions to watch, magazines, a mess hall, which closes at 3 PM, and retired people who are hard of hearing, partcially blind and have arthritis to wait on all Veterans. These employees are usually retired from part time work at McDonalds Resturants.

While waiting one can talk to the other Veterans. Learn about the Korean War, World War II, WWI, Civil and Spanish American War. As Veterans become older soon there will be Vietnam, Grenada, Panama, and Desert Storm Veterans which will add to one seeking knowledge of more current wars.

Veterans in wheel chairs are the best people for information about these wars. It is also interesting to watch Veterans argue and disagree about their outfits during these wars. Common arguments involve which Veteran was in the most dangerous place during a war. Sometimes wheel chair Veterans play chicken in their wheel chairs to settle arguments. This is especially interesting because usually their legs have no feeling and the crashes they create are better than NASCAR.

It is also not uncommon to see people on crutches arguing with the wheel chair Vets and sometimes pulling the air tubes out of each other machines.

A young woman is usally not a nurse but a relative with a old rich Vet.

If a Vet argues with a Receptionist, Secretary, Doctor or Nurse, Security intervines and the Vet must wait an extra hour for his medication in the Pharmacy. If the Vet causes a serious situation he must return his medication and come back the next day to retrive it from the Pharmacy.

No VA Doctor is an American Citizen. Sometimes the doctor is a Veteran of the same War the Veteran was in but on the opposite side or what would then be called the enemy. So it is with the upmost importance that the Vet be friendly to all senior medical personnel.

The Vet must be able to understand, Indian, Eastern, Asian and some European languages.

After getting a blood test the Veteran must be sure to get his free breakfast meal ticket before a politician gets wind of it and tries to take it away.

The Vet does not have to worry about parking in handicapped spaces because all the spaces are handicapped spaces.

Hospital beds in a VA hospital are plentiful because no one is allowed to use them.

Some transportation, non-emergency, is provided to the Vets that have no other means to get to the VA hospital. Sometimes frequent stops are made by the Vet as he/she watches the Van pull away without them as they try to catch it.

Never assume that the Vet sitting next to you is sleeping.

The 50-50 tickets sold in the VA Hospital to raise money for Vets does pay off.

Till some other time
see ya.

Chumly

String Theory et al.

We are living in a universe held together by string! According to some mathmaticians, physicists and a whole lotta other smart people. The opposition party consists of people that believe in Atoms, Electrons, Protons, and good ol' sub atomic smashing of things. Then there is of course the religious theory of God creating Adam smashing into Eve. The other theories seem to be the Trailer Trash Theories which range between, Stuff happens, a government plot, or possibly bored Aliens from somewhere other than Earth and beyond. Personally I seem to fall into the "Trashy Theories" and believe that the Universe is held together by beads.

Let us face it who does not like beads. The indians liked them enough to sell their land, or get free blankets. The people in New Orleans like them, tourists like them and small children play with them, make things with them and eventually choke on them if they are not supervised.

To satisfy other theorists I like to link the beads together with string. Beads and Strings are great gift givers as oppose to just a handfull of colorful and decorative beads. Then light up the beads with glowing stuff inside and we have a necklace or bracelet of bright mesmerizing orbs that can grab the fancy of almost any child or adult that is not blind or otherwise handicapped, toward beads or strings that glow. Finally give Adam the beads to give to Eve and watch the fun begin.

Problem solved. Time for a nap

Chumly

Procrasstarnation!

I don't want to do it! But I have to. I don't want to get up in the morning. I don't want people calling me I don't want to talk to. I don't want to be poor. I don't want to be jobless. I don't want young people dying in any wars. I don't want my cat to sit on my stomach with her butt to my face. I don't want to not have somekind of suprise in my day. I don't want to overeat. I don't want to hear what you don't want to do so why should you want to hear what I don't want to do.

The end.

Internalspective

Ever sit in the center of your mind? I tried this one evening just before my pre-rem sleep. I was having a hard time sleeping and it occured to me to sit in the center of my mind. What I saw was the shape of a person that was illuminated sitting in the dark. I was disappointed because I thought that some kind of hidden world would open to me. My mind was not willing to reveal itself or was it my brain that was unwilling to show me what was in the center of my mind? I guess I could have used my "imagination" but my brain or mind would have none of that. I can take a brain and hold it in my hand. I can label it's parts, feel it, cut it open, toss it, and see it. That I could never do to my own brain because it is beneath my hair, skin, skull and other stuff. How can I use my brain to see my mind or use my mind to see my brain? Was my mind suppose to tell my brain to reveal itself or my brain tell my mind to show me around myself? I somehow drifted to sleep, then woke up the next morning no longer sitting in the center of my brain or mind. So it continues.

Friday - Jobless -hopeless

If I had to describe my life in a word it would be "Unreality!" That is to say the world I believe in does not exist. My expectations were molded as I grew up. I learned certain things as a child, mixed them up as an adolesent, tested my theories as a young adult and finally concluded that unreality is the concept of my reality. Life seems to change in a moment. A loved one dies too young, as an enemy lingers on forever. What can be planned is planned but the result is that some other cosmic plan occurs that was never even thought about. For example. I love "Rolling Stone" Magazine. For years I wanted to be published in this Magazine. I tried to write articles and do music reviews, made up stories, whatever. Then I finally concluded that I had no talent to write for "Rolling Stone." Until one day I read an article that moved me. Every fiber of my molecular self knew that, my "Letter to the Editor of Rolling Stone" had a very slim chance of being read, and that my self indulgent opinion would never be published. Thus my plan was to amuse myself by writing my opinion and my reality was the satisfaction that I had written. The "Unreality" that happened was that my opinion was published by Rolling Stone, and my employer read it and subsequently fired me. Thus I was plagued by the feeling that I was on top of the world for being published and the counter feeling that a bothched suicide was about to take shape. This has been only one of a series of "Unreality" in my life. It may not matter to no one but me. My plan is that it won't but that I can just blog along as I damn well please writing about the ureality of my life.