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.