Save Another Nagger, Digger (SAND)™
It seems that my most recent senior moment, having been extended indefinitely, is to be a nagger. Nag, nag, nag. All the nagging anyone might want, they could get from me. For unknown reasons, nagging is my forte. Really, I ought to think about opening my very own Nag Emporium, where folks can pay to get nagged. Come and get your nags, people. I should first search for any existing myNag(dot)com or myNag(dot)net, since you gotta get your domain set up (it’s *all* a set-up, I fear); of course, myNag(dot)org pleases more, and launching an online store occupies the mind. Blows it, too.
You gotta be careful how you say “Nagger Digger (ND)™” or you’ll get offensive, unintentionally. People from North Dakota or those in love with Napoleon Dynamite (oh, what a stick he had) could tell you to shut up if you haven’t been there. Well, I haven’t, and I won’t. So you can’t make me worth liking anyway. That blows it, too.
I wish I could remember what the point of this note was. Oh, well, I can go make some more notes with my strings. That’s a theory. It’s my string theory of the universe. Make notes with them. Vibrate. Some heady physicists seem to be catching up with my idea. Too bad. The are sooooo slow. Well, why wouldn’t they be? They are just silly strings. That does not blow it, does it? Now the wind, that is what really blows. With the answer in it, even.
Time marches on. That’s a different tune. Drummer, too.
(with a little luck, this will import into my facebook)
–g
Mysterious Test
This is being remote-posted from the box.net site to this blog, to see how it goes, how it works, if it does, or just shirks and smirks (like me). I should have tried this months ago. Or whenever they added this feature. How many more improvements are we going to make, people? 
–g
Are You Empty? (AYE!)™
This deserves an explanation, but that part will have to wait. We (almost all of us) just simply hate to wait when we know the thing we wait for is just “sitting there” while it is “not yet” time. Seems too unfair to tarry needlessly like that, with potential “ability” going to waste while we wait. Waiting and wasting.
Well, explaining this is one of those things. You’ll have to wait (which may generate hate) for the thing you know is already “sitting there” (inside my impenetrable skull), if you ever want to see any explanation. But at least the “what” that is not explained is this set of songs for you to hear, if you want. You could even listen to them. Or, if you prefer, you might want to play them. See what they sound like. Look with your ears. Maybe your heart will fall into the rhythm somewhere along the way. But that doesn’t explain these songs. All music fits into that remedial description. We like it because we like it, for the reason that it is so likeable, more than non-music, which isn’t as likeable (especially not for listening to or hearing or etc.).
The first two songs were brand-spanking-new to me today, and already I have played them more than half a dozen times apiece. That’s so I can play along on an instrument they didn’t have in the mix (not needed) but it’s fun to add a little different sound to something (while trying to hear what’s there more than the added stuff), while I try to imagine that I somehow were “there with them” as part of that indescribable “magic” that can happen onstage. It doesn’t always happen, but it can and when it does, it’s what makes it worth the effort to have bad times onstage, which is also something that (fortunately) does not happen always, and when “down” doesn’t lead to “further down” then it rarely does “go completely wrong, ruined” so it really doesn’t matter if “nothing is perfect” in this world. We can get pretty stinking’ close to perfect, if we wanna put forth the grunt-work to do it.
When we get the explanation it will explain why I have “chosen” to do this particular time, in this particular reason, and with this particular special “almost spooky” feeling about how right it is. It’s almost like peace without really understanding. If I were to explain it (by thinking about it) it would not work as well (the peaceful, easy feeling) that these things give us.
It’s like a kitty-cat purring. Moreso than most folks realize, even. See what you think. Eyeball your own brainworks, or something. Stir up that dreary soup-kitchen in your soul.
Here (I know, I need to get my crayons out and color this world, but later):
Now, believe it or not, I have not even tried to explain anything, so you’re still waiting, aren’t you? 
–g
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