Sagittarian Soliloquy
DAY: Wednesday
WEATHER: Deep Freeze
ATTITUDE: Really good
DAYS WEARING SAME CLOTHES: 3
CARTOON CHARACTER OTD: Spock from the animated Star Trek
WISH FOR THE WEEK: That snow was warm
NUMBER OF WILD CHICKENS IN THE YARD: 0
Blog Humbug! Blog, blog, blog.
I’ve had thirty-seven calls about not writing a blog. Well, thirty-seven on my home phone. Sixty-three if you count the messages on my superhero phone, and my undercover secret society phone.
I’m busy, people. I have things to do.
I’m takin’ pictures of my bed head, and drawin’ stuff, and things like that. Plus there’s the whole, “getting abducted every month” thing that I’ve got going on. Damned Haggis.
I’ve been writing books. Workin’ on my store.
I’ve been playing with Zane and Caspian.
I’m always starting this blog with reasons why I haven’t written in it for so long. I do that because I have one friend who reads it. Thanks, Matt. So I figure I at least owe him an apology for the long gaps between when he gets to read about the ridiculous and mundane things in my life.
My birthday is in two days. I’ll be 35. Holy crap. I know I’m not the only one who’s gonna say this, or who has said it, but I can’t believe I’ve made it this long.
When I was 19 I figured I’d be dead in a few years. Same thing when I was 25. When I turned 30 I freaked out. Thirty is so adultish. It’s the goodbye year to your youth. 35 seems like it’s the goodbye year to my goodbye to youth years. I still can’t believe I’m tickin’. Gawd knows I’ve taken a lickin’.
Just the drugs I’ve consumed thus far in my life should have killed me. I mean, the chemical composition of them, not the fucked up stuff I did under their influence. If I were a cat, my lives would have run out long ago.
There have been several times where I’ve almost died where me being whacked out on drugs was not at all a factor. I would say that drugs were not a factor at all, but I’m certain some of the situations that almost killed me involved drugs in some way, so I can’t rule their roles out entirely.
Someone is always on drugs. Nearly every single person you see is strung out on something. Now remember, things like caffeine and nicotine are drugs. So are aspirin and other fever-reduction pain pills. So is carbon monoxide. And pesticides. Everything that has to be “prescribed by a doctor” is a drug. Chocolate is a drug. Chemtrails, which fall upon all of us, and are breathed-in constantly by most humans on Earth right now, have drugs in them. Some scientists say that love is a drug. So do some singers. And poets. I think I may have even said it sometime. Well, I said it right now, but under the pretext that other people were saying it. Someone said it before me, at any rate. Drugs influence our lives daily. They also influence a lot of deaths.
I learned that even if you’re strung out on coffee so much that your stomach acid is running down your leg, you can still fall asleep while you’re driving. I found out that you should not let people on crystal meth play with guns, or baby alligators, or automobiles. On that note, I also discovered that the human body can stay awake for 18 days straight. (some hallucinations and overall insanity may occur) I discovered that you can run down a mountain in the dark if you’ve eaten good enough acid.
My friends and I used to strap on headlamps, climb up a mountain, and run down it. RUN down it. I’m not talking about a nice, mellow grade with grass and flowers, here folks. I’m sayin’ we used to run down a mountainside. One with rocks, and holes, and trees, and stumps, logs, crevices, boulders, bushes, and all the other stuff you’d find on a mountain in Idaho. Yeah. You can run down mountains in the dark, jumping for twenty feet or so, and rolling back up to keep running. You can dive between tree limbs, bounce off boulders, and careen your way back to the fire without getting hurt. All while goggling out of your mind, (or into it, perhaps) on LSD.
You can take acid, drink rum, smoke pot, and then do too much coke and stay alive, too. You may turn blue at one point in the evening, and forget to keep your heart beating, but a friendly reminder from a junkie friend to “breathe, dude” should get things going again.
Oh, the things I’ve learned about accidentally surviving. Thirty-four years well spent learning those lessons.
I’m gaining some white hairs here and theres. It’s pretty nice, really. Not gray. Shockingly white. I’ve always known I’d have long white hair when I was an old man. I can see myself beginning that look now.
I’m by no means saying that I’m old. I plan on living a very, very long time. I feel great, still kiddish and everything. I’m in good shape, just found out that my lungs are happy and all. I don’t feel old. I’m not saying that.
Just that I’m an adult. And that I can see myself in the future more clearly than ever before. I like where I’m headed.
I quit drinking Coke. Those of you who know me will commence freaking out now.
For many years, all I’ve consumed as far as liquids go are Coke and Coffee. The 2 C’s. But that is all over now. Coke was killing my teeth. I quit. It’s been almost a month now. I drink water, and juice, coffee, and tea. And that’s it. Well, a peanut butter chocolate malt now and then…
My New Year’s Resolution has been stated more than a month early: I’M QUITTING SMOKING.
Those of you who know me and are already freaking out about me not drinking Coke anymore may now pee your pants and run to the phone to call me to make sure one of those crazy bullshit stories I’ve been telling about aliens and talking animals and stuff like that wasn’t actually true and I’ve been replaced by a Pod Person.
It’s true. I’m done with it.
It’s expensive, stinky, and not necessary.
It’s over.
I figure with not drinking soda (that’s pop for all my pals in Idaho), and not smoking, I’ll gain some weight. This is a good thing for me. So while that happens, I’ll probably have to workout so that it doesn’t turn to fat.
So as my 35th birthday approaches, I’m not looking at it as if I’m aging, really. I’m wizening. And I’m actually on my way to gaining more youth. I feel better already, dropping the bad Coke habit I had. (I drank a twelve pack a day)
I think 34 was the beginning of my life. A new life. Again.
And I guess that’s what I’m talking about today.
Rock on, my friendally friends.
Have good days.
DAY: Wednesday
WEATHER: Deep Freeze
ATTITUDE: Really good
DAYS WEARING SAME CLOTHES: 3
CARTOON CHARACTER OTD: Spock from the animated Star Trek
WISH FOR THE WEEK: That snow was warm
NUMBER OF WILD CHICKENS IN THE YARD: 0
Blog Humbug! Blog, blog, blog.
I’ve had thirty-seven calls about not writing a blog. Well, thirty-seven on my home phone. Sixty-three if you count the messages on my superhero phone, and my undercover secret society phone.
I’m busy, people. I have things to do.
I’m takin’ pictures of my bed head, and drawin’ stuff, and things like that. Plus there’s the whole, “getting abducted every month” thing that I’ve got going on. Damned Haggis.
I’ve been writing books. Workin’ on my store.
I’ve been playing with Zane and Caspian.
I’m always starting this blog with reasons why I haven’t written in it for so long. I do that because I have one friend who reads it. Thanks, Matt. So I figure I at least owe him an apology for the long gaps between when he gets to read about the ridiculous and mundane things in my life.
My birthday is in two days. I’ll be 35. Holy crap. I know I’m not the only one who’s gonna say this, or who has said it, but I can’t believe I’ve made it this long.
When I was 19 I figured I’d be dead in a few years. Same thing when I was 25. When I turned 30 I freaked out. Thirty is so adultish. It’s the goodbye year to your youth. 35 seems like it’s the goodbye year to my goodbye to youth years. I still can’t believe I’m tickin’. Gawd knows I’ve taken a lickin’.
Just the drugs I’ve consumed thus far in my life should have killed me. I mean, the chemical composition of them, not the fucked up stuff I did under their influence. If I were a cat, my lives would have run out long ago.
There have been several times where I’ve almost died where me being whacked out on drugs was not at all a factor. I would say that drugs were not a factor at all, but I’m certain some of the situations that almost killed me involved drugs in some way, so I can’t rule their roles out entirely.
Someone is always on drugs. Nearly every single person you see is strung out on something. Now remember, things like caffeine and nicotine are drugs. So are aspirin and other fever-reduction pain pills. So is carbon monoxide. And pesticides. Everything that has to be “prescribed by a doctor” is a drug. Chocolate is a drug. Chemtrails, which fall upon all of us, and are breathed-in constantly by most humans on Earth right now, have drugs in them. Some scientists say that love is a drug. So do some singers. And poets. I think I may have even said it sometime. Well, I said it right now, but under the pretext that other people were saying it. Someone said it before me, at any rate. Drugs influence our lives daily. They also influence a lot of deaths.
I learned that even if you’re strung out on coffee so much that your stomach acid is running down your leg, you can still fall asleep while you’re driving. I found out that you should not let people on crystal meth play with guns, or baby alligators, or automobiles. On that note, I also discovered that the human body can stay awake for 18 days straight. (some hallucinations and overall insanity may occur) I discovered that you can run down a mountain in the dark if you’ve eaten good enough acid.
My friends and I used to strap on headlamps, climb up a mountain, and run down it. RUN down it. I’m not talking about a nice, mellow grade with grass and flowers, here folks. I’m sayin’ we used to run down a mountainside. One with rocks, and holes, and trees, and stumps, logs, crevices, boulders, bushes, and all the other stuff you’d find on a mountain in Idaho. Yeah. You can run down mountains in the dark, jumping for twenty feet or so, and rolling back up to keep running. You can dive between tree limbs, bounce off boulders, and careen your way back to the fire without getting hurt. All while goggling out of your mind, (or into it, perhaps) on LSD.
You can take acid, drink rum, smoke pot, and then do too much coke and stay alive, too. You may turn blue at one point in the evening, and forget to keep your heart beating, but a friendly reminder from a junkie friend to “breathe, dude” should get things going again.
Oh, the things I’ve learned about accidentally surviving. Thirty-four years well spent learning those lessons.
I’m gaining some white hairs here and theres. It’s pretty nice, really. Not gray. Shockingly white. I’ve always known I’d have long white hair when I was an old man. I can see myself beginning that look now.
I’m by no means saying that I’m old. I plan on living a very, very long time. I feel great, still kiddish and everything. I’m in good shape, just found out that my lungs are happy and all. I don’t feel old. I’m not saying that.
Just that I’m an adult. And that I can see myself in the future more clearly than ever before. I like where I’m headed.
I quit drinking Coke. Those of you who know me will commence freaking out now.
For many years, all I’ve consumed as far as liquids go are Coke and Coffee. The 2 C’s. But that is all over now. Coke was killing my teeth. I quit. It’s been almost a month now. I drink water, and juice, coffee, and tea. And that’s it. Well, a peanut butter chocolate malt now and then…
My New Year’s Resolution has been stated more than a month early: I’M QUITTING SMOKING.
Those of you who know me and are already freaking out about me not drinking Coke anymore may now pee your pants and run to the phone to call me to make sure one of those crazy bullshit stories I’ve been telling about aliens and talking animals and stuff like that wasn’t actually true and I’ve been replaced by a Pod Person.
It’s true. I’m done with it.
It’s expensive, stinky, and not necessary.
It’s over.
I figure with not drinking soda (that’s pop for all my pals in Idaho), and not smoking, I’ll gain some weight. This is a good thing for me. So while that happens, I’ll probably have to workout so that it doesn’t turn to fat.
So as my 35th birthday approaches, I’m not looking at it as if I’m aging, really. I’m wizening. And I’m actually on my way to gaining more youth. I feel better already, dropping the bad Coke habit I had. (I drank a twelve pack a day)
I think 34 was the beginning of my life. A new life. Again.
And I guess that’s what I’m talking about today.
Rock on, my friendally friends.
Have good days.
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