i coulda sworn i had a blog for bowling

that i created a blog called botts, aka babbles on the toilet seat, somewhere in my travels through the cyber blogdoms, but it was just not to be found as i looked down the list of blogs so the entry below appears here cuz, well, where else would you put it? (in that blog called botts, of course, whenever it's created, but it's not so there)...


if you really must know, i roughly estimate that i deposited twenty pounds or waste into the porcelain receptacle over this weekend (and it ain’t over yet)… i know way too much tmi, but that’s just one of the exciting features of this blog and what we are here for, after all… on the one hand it is a blessing that this body can still process so much food from healthy to junk in such a short period of time (yay for the holiday season, no doubt) and on the other hand, it is a cuse that this body does not get sick enough to make me stop such ridiculously suicidal (but ever so fun) pig-out binges of culinary and oral self-indulgence (check out white wolf café next time you are in town… yes, a restaurant review right here in botts, can i get any more . . . oh, fill in your own description term this time, will ya?)….

nyuk nyuk, narf :)

no barf :)

the cat and the canary (or mouse)

the advantages of being the cat...

the cat can dominate the space of a smaller animal such a a canary or a mouse and then needs to do nothing more than wait for the canary or mouse to get used to the limits and lack of freedom and make a mistake allowing the cat to pounce, to react, and therein leaving canary or mouse to run or fly in circles (or into walls) in panic mode wondering what he or she did wrong... that is why the cat can smile as it does, for it just does what a cat does, trap, wait, pounce, and the poor canary or mouse just appears foolish and helpless for being such easy prey...

the secret to escape for the canary or mouse is patience... the cat can become just as complacent, it just takes longer but in that time the canary or mouse can identify escape paths that the cat cannot reach and then, in time, use one of those paths when two conditions are met - the canary is truly ready to reach the safe zone AND the cat is away for sufficient time to allow the entire journey to the safe zone to be completed without interference...

patience is the essential tool and skill that must be mastered for this escape... and the canary must remember that the cat is already a master of patience for cats are lazy by nature and quite conditioned to set traps and wait for their prey to forget it is trapped and tired of the limits...

in many ways humanity is playing this cat and canary (or mouse) game as there are a few cats in charge with most of the wealth and power keeping billions of canaries (or mice) trapped in daily routines that allow very limited thought or intimacy or creativity or freedom (and we call it the work ethic, another name for poverty, another name for the trap)...

and in the bigger picture, nature is the cat and humanity is the canary (or mouse) trapped in this limited existence called life on earth and humans rush through life trying to escape from natural limits while nature waits patiently for humans to make that one mistake that ends human existence...

make today a patient day :)

if you send nude photos

be adorable, or at least cute...

circumcision anyone?

a thought too far from acceptible is beyond belief (sort of a play on words)... humans would not accept eating their children as some species do, but who is to say that the other species who have survived for millions of years longer than humans have are wrong?... if humans continue populating the planet and refuse to control birth rate and resource use, the logic of survival of the fittest could overrule any construct of morality ever created... the rule of human rights is well justified in our current moral, but who will be the humans that have rights when there are too many humans and not enough food, water, and living space for all?... morality is not a constant... is it moral for survivors of a plane crash to east other survivors to survive or should all who survived the crash die?... is the story content of lord of the flies just a fiction that could never happen?... we humans think we have the answers, but there are so many possibilities we would never accept as acceptible based on our experience and concepts of right and wrong... such expansion of freethinking is beyond science as we know it, beyond belief as we know it... we depend on what we know of the universe and life on this planet to judge what is right and wrong, but everything we know could be wrong... survival in this universe may take a whole different way of thinking, feeling, logic, reason, science... it is my belief that we do not know enough to judge anything as finally right or wrong... what if this life is the hell imagined by many and after this life comes a whole different consciousness that is not about right and wrong... or what if this life is a meaningless blip that we take way too seriously and try to control with the illusion of control?... children are abused by thought and fear much more than any physical damage that can be done, but to make anything illegal we narrow our thought stream to contemporary knowledge on this small planet and while i do not argue against doing that, i just point out that it is not freeing our minds to the infonite possibilities... humans like to make things personal, egocentric, microcosmic... i am bringing an infinite universe of possibilities concept to the conversation, trying to reach well being my experience in life to what could be logical from a very different experience... or maybe i am just babbling to challenge our thinking... anything is possible :)

botts

ok then, again, as reported elsewhere, here is a new netbook (ancient CE version for $100) and we have wordpad which can work as long as i find a way to move what is here on this notebook over to the laptop and if plausible and oublishable (as if there is some criteria around here?) then onto the web (so why not right on to the web) well, there is that loss of web access and unplanned deletion thing to deal with after all, right, so for the notepad wordpad it is) and what better use of the time we spend sitting on the pot (toilet, that is) than writing few words that communicate something, meaningful or not, or just to prove we were here, alive and trying to share... if that wasn't a question then maybe you were never here (robert klein sounds all around)... anyway, the netbook just might make all this shit come out much easier, maybe...

what?...

ah, yes, wherever you are, whatever you are doing, enjoy yourself already, there's not much else better you can do :)

questions

a midget walked up to me the other day and asked, "if i come out of the closet do i need to give up all my straight friends? and i thought for a moment and responded, "only if they are homophobic and will not open their mind to overcome their fear" and as i turned to go a girl in a wheelchair rolled over my toe and asked, "if i admit i am an atheist do i have to give up all my god-fearing friends?" and i winced for a moment and replied, "only if they do not live up to their holy words to love and leave all judgments up to their gods" and a young man spoke up suggesting those with delusional fears are not cabable of actually being friends in the first place and a young girl spoke up and said those with closed minds are not cabable of actualizing love and the last thing i remember as i left the room was the sound of gunfire and i thought to myself, "maybe some questions are not meant to be asked"...

will the human who is not a sick control freak please stand up

but blinded by their fear, they do not see and worse, they expect everyone else to see their fear as the only way to see, their way as the only way to be... from the grand master plans of religious zealots to the singular psychosis of a mass murderer to the singular neurosis of an individual obsessive compulsive person to the collective suicidal insanity of the seriously delusional human race, their fear is death to life...

oh, is that a pineapple in your lap?

mixed slices

not alone, always in a crowd, well, almost alway, and yet, all alone...

working as the glue no one wants around to hold together the broken pieces of a disfunctional family, it's a thankless job, but someone's gotta do it, or so the story goes...

there must be better ways to "make a living"...

meanwhile, all i ever wanted was the one... true love... family... forgives everything... true love... forever... or it it just the illusion of never being alone... illusion or not, it is real when it is shared, committed, said and done, and i said it and did it and still do... i remain true to my word, my promises, my love... and the only one... so were they all liars or thieves or just frail imperfect humans excused by their god or some delusional excuse for shirking responsibility?...

what's the difference...

that is, what is the point of the most important writing ever if no one ever read it?... so the story continues (to be written), day after day, carved from whole cloth, created from the (e)thereal imagination between the lines... and if only for my amusement, so be it...

here and there, home and away, work and play, mixed slices...

new phone?

sucks to know

yeah like so sometimes i feel like i am invading someone's privacy when i watch a vlog or read a blog and someone is pouring their heart out about something, but they put it out there and it sometimes hits just the right nerve in me so i feel like i not only want to hug them and offer support and cheers, but also i want to thank them for waking up a part of me that i let sleep a lot these days cuz i work so much and don't have any consistent personal deep thinking time... it sucks to know too much, to feel to much, to be sensitive to the insensitivity and cruelty that is so commonplace in every action almost every person takes, including me...

what?... why do birds suddenly appear?

what?

i don't feel like sleeping even though i must be awake and alert in a few hours even if no one stays awake with me, even recovering from the kick in the head infection that spun me around this week and is it all in my mind (and my doing what?... could it all be a fake after all?... all life's a stage and it's all an act what?... the fool on the hill knew it all along what?... are we still in a parenthesis what?)... there are times when i look in the mirror and do not recognize the person looking back at me, no, what?... how did i lose touch with the man in the mirror and where is the child i know as me, oh, precious innocence what?...

what?

you could have had true love

but you hide in fearful delusions of the self-importance of necessity because deep down you know you really were not good enough...

care for a nice fruit?