She was stunningly beautiful. The type of woman that makes you glance back three or four times to validate your initial perception, like seeing the latest model of a sports car in liquid black. And no disrespect is meant to my wife or women as a whole. I blame God for my primal moth-to-flame attraction to physical beauty and chrome. Perpetuation of the species my ass. She was simply gorgeous.
A Frog’s Perspective
I don’t get America’s infatuation with royalty. The royal wedding was a couple of weeks ago and news on every channel was clogged with coverage of something more inane than live poker on TV. I find English royalty completely irrelevant and honestly contrary to who we are as Americans. Really? Princes and princesses in the 21st century? Queens with crowns and scepters? Throngs of media outside the “royal birth hospital,” waiting in giddy anticipation for the revealing of the baby-name honoring some medieval monarch? But that’s important (to US)? The “royal” kid is in a long snaking chain of heirs to the English throne and has as much impact on America as my preferred brand of toilet paper.
I blame Disney. Every little girl in America has grown up with princesses and developed some kind of Cinderella syndrome at an early age, conditioned to believe that there is some evil wrongdoer in her life – typically an older woman – and that some prince in tights will sashay into her life, sweeping her off her feet to a life of luxury at a shiny palace.
Shushaffected
“Why are you angry? You always look angry.”
For the last time, I’m not angry! This is the way I look. This is what God gave me to work with for the past 50 odd years, so if it bothers you, imagine how I feel!
And I’m not “screaming.” I pride myself on speaking audibly. I’m not a mumbler, nor am I deaf. Although I should be after a lifetime exposure to loud machinery, gunfire, and music that my parents and people of the cloth found offensive. If I don’t hear you, it’s by choice.
If you wanna hear screaming I’ll gladly give you a demonstration. I AM the guy you want with you if you’re lost in the woods but I’m also completely capable of knowing how and when to situationally moderate volume, unlike the gaggles of alcohol-infused Wisconsin scream-talking women I’ve seen in restaurants lately. (I’ll never understand why women appear to lose their hearing when they drink, screeching over the top of each other like some kinda crazy competition at the annual coven.)
I’m Sick of the Middle East
I’m sick of the Middle East. I’m sick of hearing about it. I’m sick of our military being involved in their biblical mayhem. I’m sick of the threat it presents to the West. And I’m sick of their imperialistic and jingoistic approach to world politics in the name of religion. If I lived two thousand years ago, I would be sick of the Middle East.
The Middle East is a biblical problem. Their issues will never be resolved. From my moderately informed perspective, it would appear that they fight more for entertainment than political gain, invoking the name of their God as THE source of righteousness. And not to say they’re wrong, but it’s simply bullshit to me and I don’t care. I don’t care about Shiites and Sunnis or whose great great great grand uncle (a true descendant of the one true God) was wronged twelve generations ago. No shit. I don’t care. What I care about is the impact their misguided geographical fervor has on the United States and our allies.
It seems when the Middle Eastern players lose track of or get bored with what they’re fighting about, they turn to their historical adversary; the great Satan, Israel. (Not the other second greatest Satan, the United States. We’re relegated to Miss Congeniality status behind Israel because they’ve been around longer to hate.)
Grayish
April 11, 2018. I’m thinkin’ today’s a special day. Maybe Homelessness Awareness Day. I can’t keep special days straight anymore because there are so many of them that don’t show up on the free calendars I get from vendors. (Oddly, Canadian Boxing Day is noted. I’m not sure if that one has something to do with mixed martial arts or UPS. I guess both are important enough to have a note on calendars.) I’ll have to Google it. I’m a Googler. It’s my go-to ready reference because my brain is full and I refuse to replace memories of my kids’ First Communions with irrelevant factoids.
But I’m pretty sure it’s Homelessness Awareness Day by the silent protesters I saw this morning. I met my wife for breakfast before work and saw some “awareness” protesters; a family (two adults and five kids) sitting in the middle of the restaurant clad in their favorite pajamas and coats. (I assume they kept their coats on because they’re modest and were on public display or maybe they were just chilly.)