Hi, it's been a while. I've been a bit busy - writing some other stuff, keeping a day job and trying to figure out the best way to be regular.
Not a regular guy, but just regular. Even with the oatmeal cereal to start the day and lots of water at night, I'm still finding it a bit difficult some times to squeeze one off when I need to. If I can't deliver some cable, particularly in the morning, I know it's not going to be a good day. So I'm trying really hard to keep to a schedule - and I think I may have found a solution.
The prune. That disgusting fruit that you swore you would never eat because your old, crusty great aunt Bertha used to keep them in her apartment in a glass jar in her kitchen cabinet. You know, the place that smelled like 82 years of ancient history had been stuffed into a single room efficiency. A place with old photographs, doilies, yellow-paged books, a sofa that hadn't been reupholstered since 1961, and stale air that just didn't seem to circulate. Old.
Anyhow, old Bertie may have been onto something. Those prunes seem to work and you don't even need too many. In fact, they've made the prune downright acceptable these days. Even Paul Newman has put his mark on the product with his own line of organically-grown fruit, packaged quite nicely in resealable plastic bag decorated with Paul's face on the outside. (Too bad he's dead).
I keep a supply in the fridge and pop one or two seedless cold ones in the mouth before bed. They're quite tasty, almost candy-like, and they seem to do the trick.
Yes, this is what's come to. Worrying about ways to keep the pipes flowing and the chute holes free of debris.Next, I'll tell you all about the saline nose spray I keep by my bedside.
When it comes down to it, we’re all just gonna be some skin and bones left on this so-called plate of life. It’s pure hell if you think about it.
And lately, I’ve had a lot of time to think about it. You see, I’m convinced that I’m already dead and this is hell.
That’s been my mantra for a while. I know it’s not too uplifting, believe me I know.
What brought me to this dismal conclusion? That’s what this blog is about - a collection of stories, examples, proofs, etc., that show without hesitation that I’m already dead and this is hell.
But don’t let me take the limelight. I know after you read some of these entries, you’ll find examples in your own “life” that will enable that light bulb to pop on and help you explain the inexplicable. You’ll soon realize that WE'RE already dead and living uncomfortably together in hell. So please, feel free to send me your stories, or just browse through mine. As Freud said, “It’s therapeutic, Mrs. Pappenheim.”