Yippie, ki-yay, ki-yo!
Mikey’s Funnies is something like an “old friend” in my life in terms of “going way back” although really the newsletter only “knows me” as part of an automated mailing list run by someone I probably will never meet and certainly cannot “feel anything real” as a person in terms of endearment, yet I really like this guy. His name is Mike Atkinson and you can sign up for his daily (more-or-less) mailing of light-hearted and uncencored yet fully suitable for children humor and insight lovelingly shared just for the sake of the common good.
This is what I know since nothing in return from me of any real “value” has ever been brought forth. In other words, I haven’t really ever thanked him, or done anything in return. That’s what we say: “In return for what you did…” when we reward (or punish) some action. Of course, this results in the creation of an “exchange” of sorts, if one party must offset the initial transfer (fully or partially) in order for things to be “right with the world” or at least between the two parties involved. Often when this balancing is not done, feelings of resentment ensue. We say, “This is what I get for…?!!” incredulously and often outraged. We do not deserve what happens to us. (Actually this is equally true when “good things” happen — we did not “earn” those accidental good things, either.)
So here is where you’d sign up for Mike’s Funnies:
(Gospel Communications Alliance Member)
So naturally when I got today’s installment (or maybe it was only an instalment) the fact that it was pun-based made it the “oh, yeah, obviously” thing to put in as another add-on for the last-post (although it really is not the last one, but was until this got posted with the current date, instead of appended to the end of this offering to one young LION cub) in this stream-of-fading-consciousness that probably should have dried up long ago, but did not for some dark and sinister purpose. Whatever the reason behind the continuing, here are some things that work better if you say them out loud, or at least imagine mentally what the sounds might sound like instead of what they really say. The “confusion” makes us laugh, unless we are not “in the mood” which could potentially mean all the time if we never want to laugh.
Some people just do not want to think that laughing at things does not necessarily mean we are not taking them seriously. Sometimes, we laugh in order to keep from doing something else, like breaking down and crying. And, maybe, it would be better to do that instead of laughing. Turns out (however) that the crying will come, if it needs to, even if someone held it back. Turns out (maybe) that it is almost like the rain, and if the dry spell is too long, the desert comes along to cover up the life that is trying not to die. (ha ha)
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PUNS ‘R US, part 1
~ A good pun is its own reword.
~ Energizer Bunny arrested; charged with battery.
~ A man’s home is his castle, in a manor of speaking.
~ A pessimist’s blood type is always b-negative.
~ My wife really likes to make pottery, but to me it’s just kiln time.
~ Dijon vu: The same mustard as before.
~ I fired my masseuse today. She just rubbed me the wrong way.
~ A Freudian slip is when you say one thing but mean your mother.
~ Shotgun wedding: A case of wife or death.
~ I used to work in a blanket factory, but it folded.
~ I used to be a lumberjack, but I just couldn’t hack it, so they gave me the ax.
~ Marriage is the mourning after the knot before.
~ Corduroy pillows are making headlines.
~ Is a book on voyeurism a peeping tome?
~ Sea captains don’t like crew cuts.
~ Does the name Pavlov ring a bell?
~ A gossip is someone with a great sense of rumor.
~ Santa’s helpers are subordinate clauses.
~ Acupuncture is a jab well done.
Why do “tug” boats push their barges?
PASS IT ON!
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Almost forgot to mention: I must not be a pessimist after all: I am A-negative.
And I almost forgot to put up my favorite (right now) thing to almost be obsessed with the idea of ever getting to harmonize in the musical sense. Really, it would be one of the most “resistance oriented projects ever” which makes it into rope by my way of twisting the words to suit my purpose (if I have one). It’s below that tricky little “more” break tag that looks like an ordinary HTML comment, that they (these WordPress folks is who) have given us. Again, like I said up there, for the common good and thereby “earning” whatever unseen future rewards actually do exist. (And they do.)
Since you came this far, you can see some more nice things, when I put them here. If the ISO-9000 bus does not find me finally. I have to remember to look up from the “pavement” like I once reminded my young friend (K) when discussing street-sense. The road is the part we do not actually want to “meet” and join up with, and the same is true of most of the traffic. Collisions usually cause some damage. We should just pass by, but we end up bumping into one another, which is how we know we are here.
I have pics to upload, but not enough time tonight (this morning, 01:59 6/26/2007, to do it)
Jake Shoots Jake
(what do you expect from 7-year olds?)
Cat And Broom In Search Of Witch
(same photographer shot this)
Cat Has A Facial Expression Decoration
(everybody loves body art these days, except cats)
Chances are good that few, if any, will know what these are even after the pictures are showing. Jake is my ex-wife’s third child. People tend me to expect him to be inferior, and not to like him, just because I am not his father. But, I expect him to be smart, sensitive, respectful, thoughtful, and everything else that “any kid of mine” would be expected to be, and folks just will not allow me to be reasonable, even if I want to try. Often, frustration is engendered to the point that I do not want to try being nice anymore. In fact, I realize at that point that I should not actually have to *struggle* to be nice to anyone. It should be natural.
So, today while his sister (my daughter, Rachel) was changing clothes, he wanted to know if he could (“oh boy! can I…?”) use my very low-quality digital camera. What we do not really know is whether I really *did* like the idea of sharing this with him and letting him feel talented and special, instead of explaining that if he breaks my camera, I’ll be really upset, etc. and so on. This is how a lot of the other adults in his life would treat him (based on how they treated my children, before they “ousted” me from their way of having a family).
Thus, whether my view on life is one of resentment and regret, or not, is up to the observer, whoever that may be, or the reader of this, if my view is what you seek to undertand, since it is entirely possibly that my effort to avoid those negative thought processes (that bad r&r) had deceived me. Sadly, the ultimate deceiver of the mind is the mind itself. (“I said I was mistaken before, but I wasn’t, so I was mistaken after all!”)
But I know that I do not feel (inwardly) like these are negative feelings for the child that “my woman” refused to have with me, because she thought she was a desperate housewife before they’d even been invented yet, instead of positive ones that tell me the child got born like God wanted, so now I am not worried about what she did not want to do, when it seemed to me like she was going *against* what God wanted her to do. And (I must insist) I did NOT push the point and tell her she was wrong to want me to get the vasectomy instead of taking chances with *her* body like we were doing, when all her friends where having lots of incredible sex, and she was stuck at home all day with a dreary life.
Sorry about that dreary life. You didn’t deserve it.
I guess I did, and now I am “enjoying” it, as I (the only one who does) actually deserve. That is the FAITHFUL AND TRUE fact of the matter, folks.
In the background on TV I hear the all-star poker game right now. The female rapper just mentioned how nobody is respectful of her, and how the guy who they are discussing is okay except that he is “too white” so that is not good. Everyone at the table agrees that she knows what she is talking about, and obviously that is why she can bust a rhyme right there on the spot (although she didn’t, unless “uh, uh, uh” is considred rhyming, and creative). So I also realize that is what I did wrong. I stayed white, the way I was born, instead of adding the nicer colors, like I was supposed to do, to be acceptable.
Guess I’ll have to ask for a second chance at life, if second chances are such a holy thing. Shouldn’t be a problem…