Let the flaking begin!

Well, not till Tuesday, probably, maybe tomorrow.

SUNBURN!

Yikes, I’m red. Red arms, red neck (well, I am from Oklahoma, so that’s natural), red face, red ears, but I am not a red-eared slider as I haven’t slid lately. Sun, 7000 feet elevation, mild-temps (low 70s), thinking, “Nah, I don’t need sunscreen. Sure, the sun is out and bright and burny, but it is only 70 degrees. People don’t sunburn unless it’s hot.” Yeah, right.

Got to see a bald eagle, soaring and flying and perching and preening. Didn’t catch any fish, but did catch a crawdad, or crayfish to you unwashed city heathens. There was snow on the ground, in places, north-facing places. There were chipmunks, some tamer than others.

Today, I’m staying out of the sun as much as possible, showering in cold water, ready for the flaking to begin. That’s one thing about Arizona sunburns - they are deep, they are not all that painful (probably due to all the nerve endings being seared away) and they peel quickly.

And in other news, LUNCH!

The idea

Ever been in love with the idea of someone, with a persona exposed online or through other media? Not in love with the person, but in love with the idea of the person, what you project onto them?

Every day. Every freaking day.

I’m not one for hero worship, haven’t been since I learned how to use a rifle for the sole purpose it was intended, as I also learned that all of us have faults, have errors, have mistakes in our personalities that allow us to do horrendous things, but, every once in a while, I fall for an idea that I attach to a person, which, I guess, is hero worship, thus invalidating every word of this long-ass, crappy sentence.

Anyway, I’m pretty much in love with the idea of every person on that blogroll to the left.

So there, nnngggghhhhhh!

In other news, my bird is an omnivore and I am reading another Terry Pratchett book after reading all the Douglas Adams’ books and I’m also reading/learning from a PHP book and the calendar on my wall is still showing April and it is May. So, I’m gonna move the calendar to May and take a shower and eat some eggs and drink some tea, then go to the high country.

Have fun!

Isn’t that cool?

While in my morning meeting(s), I dropped my pen. My pen fell to the floor. Puzzled, I picked up my pen, dropped it again, and again it fell to the floor. Why does my pen drop to the floor, I thought, why does it always drop to the floor? Does the carpet has some attractive property that works on plastic, ball-point pens? Hmmmmmmm.

Later, in the kitchen, I dropped my pen. My pen fell to the floor. The floor was linoleum, not carpet, yet my pen still dropped to the floor. Fascinating, I thought, linoleum has the same attractive properties toward plastic, ball-point pens as carpet. Well, as the carpet on the conference room floor.

never mind, this is boring and stupid and not clever at all, but what also would not be clever is if I had a cleaver and a lack of fear about using it to chop things into little pieces. That wouldn’t be clever, but it would be cool, and fun, and cause me to laugh and laugh and laugh.

What is clever is the lever. Such a simple machine, such practical applications. I want one.

I need lotion, and iced tea, and a hypodermic needle for something. I don’t need kleenex, yet.

Anyone have a bandaid, a really big bandaid?

8am meeting?

How the hell schedules an 8am meeting? I’ll tell you who. Morlocks. Ghouls. Bean Counters. Freaks. Republicans!

Ugh.

I am a morning person, really, I’ve been up since 6 and usually I’m up by 5:30, but I am not a work morning person, rarely getting to the office before 9, although this is two days in a row I’m here before 8, both times for meetings, and I don’t like it.

All for increased productivity, I’m sure, which is really funny, considering I sat at my desk all day Monday and received one, count ‘em 1, work email, and that email was to the team and didn’t affect me. Yeah, efficiency.

This bitching session has been brought to you by the number 3 and the letters T and H and the fine folks that make Tums. Mmmmmm, chewable Tums, to help with the indigestion that comes with 8am meetings….Now with extra calcium!

The number 4

pogoed across the room, split into number 2s sliding, bumping into walls and coffee tables and large marble buddhas, before becoming irrational, becoming a pair of pair 1.41421……s when all hell broke loose.

Well, not all hell, just the top 3 or 4 layers, just the minor demons and devils and fallen angels and occasional condemned soul, condemned for talking in the theater. The lower levels, the inner levels of hell remained chained, bound, underground (metaphorically, for who can say, really, where the hell hell is?) in the pit keeping Lucifer himself company and entertained.

Suddenly, a 3 sproinged onto the scene, restored order by yelling, “Look at me! Look at me! LOOK AT ME!” And everything, did, indeed look at three.

So I said,

“Hey! Jesus! What the fuck?!?”

Jesus said, “Deal with it, dickhead, just fucking deal with it! Dumbass.”

So, I did, deal with it, that ugly ass monkey paw that was now my right hand. Jesus and his stupid magic and stupid sense of humor. How the hell he thought giving me a monkey paw for a right hand was funny I’ll never know, but the dick laughed and laughed and laughed while Tom and Jerry and Peter all just stared at my new hand, mouths agape, stunned.

Jesus, what a fucking bastard.

So, anyway, I dealt with it, 5 cards to each of us, though why we play this game with Jesus I’ll never know, cause he always wins, what with his x-ray vision and ability to see our cards and his ESP and ability to know what we’re going to bet and hey, that’s probably why we play poker with Jesus - he makes us, he’s controlling our minds and making us play, so he can laugh at us and call us pussies when we want to quit and stuff.

Fuck.

Anyway, I dealt myself two pair, 4’s and 7’s. Tom and Jerry folded, Peter bet a nickel, and Jesus raised him $6 billion. I called. Peter folded, Jesus stood pat, and I asked myself for one card (stupid monkey paw for a hand) and drew a 5. Now, I knew I should fold, but didn’t, like a dumbass, and Jesus bet $13.49. All I had was $13.47, which is why that dick bet $13.49, so I was going to fold, but Jesus said, “What are you doing, pussy, why are you folding?” I replied, “Cause I can’t cover the bet, dickweed!” “Oh,” Jesus said, “how about using your watch to cover the 2 cents?” “I don’t have a fucking watch, savior-boy, can’t you fucking see?” Then, a watch appeared on my right wrist, the monkey paw wrist, and I could tell it was a cheap-ass watch worth about, oh, 2 cents. So, I took off the watch, chucked it in the pot, showed my 2 pair, and Jesus turned his cards over, revealing, yep, a royal flush, in clubs. Again.

The bastard, that bastard, that laughing-ass bastard stood, called Tom and Jerry and Peter and me losing-ass pussies while pointing at each of us. “Tom, you losing-ass pussy. Jerry, you losing-ass pussy. Peter, you losing-ass pussy. You, monkey paw boy, you’re a losing-ass pussy, too!” Then, poof! Jesus disappeared in a puff of purple smoke.

Tom and Jerry and Peter and myself all looked at each other, not saying a word. Then, we all flipped off the no longer there Jesus, and said, “Fuck you, savior-boy!”

Degrees of freedom

I have too many.

Way way way too many.

I need to be constrained, put on a wire, allowed to only go up and down, left and right, no more of this diagonal movement crap, no more of this 4-D movement through spacetime crap. I can’t do anything about the time dimension (yet!), but I need to be constrained to the x- and z-axes for a bit, for a long bit, no more movement along that stinking y-axis as it only leads to trouble.

In other news, I like sleeping on freshly laundered sheets and last night I slept on freshly laundered shits and I didn’t dream that I know of. Maybe that’s the solution to the problem of stopping all those disturbing dreams I’ve been having, freshly laundered sheets every day. Maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe I should eat more peanuts and philosophize to fish (but only the scaly fish, not those unwashed, heathen fish without scales, like catfish) and reupholster my sofa and buy a bag of ice from the nearest convenience store and cut off one of my ears and maybe even eat some pine nuts. You know, until yesterday I didn’t know pine trees had nuts, but they do. I also didn’t know that Greece was a country, a real country with a government and everything. Now I do.

But

I don’t know what I’m going to do about this thing growing on my neck. Felt like an ingrown hair a few years ago. Now it feels like a cyst and I have a history of cysts, having had cysts removed from my right knee (wow, what a nice scar!) and my left wrist (hardly any scare, dammit) and I don’t want another cyst, particularly in my neck because I can’t see it, not even when I stand on a chair. I suppose I could see it if I remembered that thing with mirrors - you know, how they reflect things and that if I looked in one mirror at the reflection of another mirror’s reflection of my neck, I could probably see that damned thing on my neck. Yay, something to do when I get home.

ANYWAY!

Anyway.

anyway….

anyway, Bush sucks. The whole damned family.

P.S. I have not, nor will I, attempt to kill myself in the next 30 minutes. After that, I have to plug in something, on purpose, and electricity scares the bejeezus out of me. And I’m all out of bejeezus, so I don’t know what will be scared out of me in 30 minutes…well, 29 minutes, now.

sigh

Secret Agent 37-25-36

Ho, mama-san, that’s no secret!

I’ve been watching way too much Gilligan’s Island…hmmmm, Ginger or MaryAnn, MaryAnn or Ginger….

———-

I’m guessing the zombie option was null and void, what with the massive head wound, the brains on the wall, because everyone knows the way to kill a zombie is to shoot out its brain, so a dead dude with no brain could hardly become a zombie, now could he?

Damn

I wanted to be a Shawn of the Dead zombie…

I also wanted to be the starting shortstop for the Baltimore Orioles, but, the starting shortstop for the Baltimore Orioles had to actually play baseball, well, weller than I could, so then I wanted to be a superstar physicist so I studied and studied and studied and experimented and calculated and wrote papers and gave talks and taught, then I wanted to be a small rock in Greenland, but Greenland was cold, really cold, so I wanted to be a small rock in Tahiti, but Tahiti was hot, what with all the scantily clad natives and my rock was, well, hard as a rock, all the time, which is hard (hee hee…hard) on a rock, then I wanted to be a sea cucumber somewhere in the South Pacific, so I was. Now, I am a recluse, a shut-in, a hermit without any Hermans, but I do have dark chocolate, so things are a-okay.

Yay

Standing, looking at my body waiting for its chalk outline, I wondered how they were going to get the blood out of the carpet, out of the white, deep shag, carpet, and I wondered who was going to be tasked with washing the brains off the wall. Would the chalk outline extend to the wall, or did the chalk outline only outline the external body, not internal bits sprayed around the room? Something to ponder while I learned to walk through walls and haunt my upstairs neighbor.

It was gruesome, the site in my apartment, gory gruesome and would be smelly gruesome as I forgot to turn on the air conditioner today and no one was supposed to see me for a few days and dead stuff tends to smell after a few days of mid-90’s weather. Bodies tend to turn, and the stink is worse than week-old chicken in the oven. But, I couldn’t smell, couldn’t turn on the air, couldn’t do a damned thing, though I was damned, damned damned damned.

Which was cool, though I wasn’t, whatever was left of me, whatever I had become. The word “ghost” came to mind, and I was kind of wispy, kind of nebulous, which was okay because I wasn’t expecting to be anything, but not okay because I would have much prefered to be a zombie, or a ghoul, or maybe even a goblin. Nope, a ghost, whatever a ghost was…..

Terry

me

was born, in Oklahoma of all places

lived, is living

will die, someday, hopefully in the early afternoon, after lunch, because I like lunch, or dinner as my grandpa called it, back in Oklahoma. My grandpa was from Texas, had blue eyes, white hair and broke both wrists as a kid when he fell out of a tree near the Brazos river. I have blue eyes, white hair and I broke both wrists, when I was a kid, when I fell off a basketball rim near Oklahoma Memorial Stadium in Norman. I also broke both elbows when I fell from a bicycle near a Kinkos in Tucson.

My grandpa was cool, was neat, took me and my brother fishing often when we (me and my brother) were kids. This one time, on an Easter Sunday when I was around 9 and my brother was around 6, all three of us climbed the back of the Lake Ellsworth dam, the rocks that made up the dam, so we could fish on the other side. At the top was a barbed wire fence that my brother had a hard time getting over, but we got him over. Later, while fishing, Grandpa caught a little bass, unhooked it, and dropped it into the half of the minnow bucket on the bank. The little bass hit the water in the minnow bucket and jumped out, right back into the lake. My little brother threw down his fishing pole, said, “Well, there’s no use catching ‘em if you’re gonna throw ‘em right back” and stormed off, up the rocks, through the fence he had such a hard time with earlier, and down to the family picnic place. Grandpa told that story often, very often, almost every time me and my brother visited, and we never got tired of it. Well, I never got tired of it, Grandpa never got tired of it, but my little brother may have gotten tired of it. He never let on, if he did.

Back to me.

I hope to die in the early afternoon, after lunch, then dumped into an isolated desert location to feed the coyotes and gila monsters and velvet ants and pygmy owls and Harris hawks and turkey vultures and scorpions. That would be a good use for my dead body. I won’t know, of course, ’cause I’ll be dead, but if I were alive, using my dead body in that way would make me happy.

If I die. I’ve survived 3 surgeries, four broken bones, a concussion, falling out of an helicopter, four cuts requiring stitches, a dislocated finger or three, having my wisdom teeth extracted by an Army dentist and near-sightedness, so I may not die. I hope not. Maybe I’m immortal, but don’t know it, won’t know it for another 60 years or so. I hope so.

I say to you, poor you reading of my boring life, I say to you, be you, be me, by what you want to be whatever that may be. It’s worked for me. I’ve been a student, a soldier, a teacher, a statistician, a spouse, a louse, a cheater, a pumpkin eater, a hunter, a fisher, but I have never never never ever been Bismarck, North Dakota. I have been a small town in Wyoming, however, with a population of 26, all between 25 and 35 years of age. I am not sage, though I have been a sage, a plant, an herb, without peaches or any other fruit, but I do know what I know, superficially at best.