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Oct 17

Great philisophical questions: 1. Why are we here?

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Let me make this simple. You are here because your mother and father had sex on one particular night, or day, about 9 months before you were born. If they had skipped that time, you would not be here; someone else would.

What the hell is so difficult to understand? It’s not a mystery; it’s a fact. Ok?

Thank you.

Next time: What is our purpose?

Actually, I think I will answer that one now. Our purpose is the same as our dogs and our cats. Eat, breed, and shit in a litter box or on the lawn. We, though have a couple of added advantages: we can watch TV and drive big cars; we can buy shit that we don’t need but are sure we do; we can eat breakfast, lunch and dinner at McDonald’s; we can kill each other because, well, we don’t really need a reason, we just don’t like the way you look or smell or pray; we can go to church and hate our neighbor both at the same time.

Most times we enjoy the life we have; the children we have; the friends we have; most times.

And, at some point, when we least expect it, we die: The endless sleep; the long goodbye; take a dirt nap; assume room temperature; assume the horizontal position; lights out; push up daisys; lie on the underside of the grass; kick the bucket; the end of the trail; the final curtain;…

There ain’t no heaven; there ain’t no hell; there’s just now and then.


Oct 17

The Time of Your Life

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Green Day + System of a Down = 2 great concerts and 4 hours standing.

Both bands played great rock and roll. What else can you say? Both play real loudly, and leave your ears ringing.

Here’s my problem: We had great seats for both concerts; the best were for System of a Down where we were about 10′ from the stage. But no one sits down anymore; everyone stands all the way through. When did that happen? Why did that happen? I can understand jumping up occasionaly when something extraordinary happens, but the whole damn time? It’s not for me. I guess my concert time has passed. After all, I was the only one in my age group at both concerts. The fact is, most people’s musical education ends with high-school graduation.

And, then you have the mosh pit which borders on beyond stupid. Who the hell wants to pay $60 for a ticket and then spend your time runing around bashing into other people; or having your body passed from the back of the standees to the front and dumped over the edge? I just don’t get it. And, I don’t get it why? Has something to do with the age group.

I think I will confine myself of CD’s, and DVD’s of concerts, from this time forward. Or, at least only go to concerts where you can sit in the chair you paid for. I guess that means Neil Diamond. Puke. I’d rather have a testicle removed than have to endure that no talent dickwad.


Oct 04

Whiling away the time.

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The day started with this email from Marie:

Subject: Catholic Parrots

A lady goes to her priest one day and tells him, “Father, I have a problem. I have two female parrots, but they only know how to say one thing.”

“What do they say?” the priest inquired.

They say, “Hi, we’re hookers! Do you want to have some fun?”

That’s obscene!” the priest exclaimed,

Then he thought for a moment. “You know,” he said, “I may have a solution to your problem. I have two male talking parrots, which I have taught to pray and read the Bible.

Bring your two parrots over to my house, and we’ll put them in the cage with Francis and Peter. My parrots can teach your parrots to praise and worship, and your parrots are sure to stop saying . . that phrase . . in no time.”

Thank you,” the woman responded, “this may very well be the solution.”

The next day, she brought her female parrots to the priest’s house.

As he ushered her in, she saw that his two male parrots were inside their cage holding rosary beads and praying.

Impressed, she walked over and placed her parrots in with them.

After a few minutes, the female parrots cried out in unison: “Hi, we’re hookers! Do you want to have some fun?”

There was stunned silence. Shocked, one male parrot looked over at the other male parrot and exclaimed, “Put the beads away, Frank. Our prayers have been answered!”

To which I replied:

I have a few questions: What is the other male parrot’s name? What are the name’s of the female parrots. Who partnered with whom? Are they all Catholics? When the nameless parrot “Put the beads away,” where did he put them? How much money changed beaks, or however parrots transfer money? Or did they transfer seeds? If seeds, how many seeds?

I have other questions, but that’s enough for now.

M answered:

The other male parrot’s name is Ernest. The female parrots are named Thelma and Louise. They all partnered with each other. They had a 4 way and used the beads to swing on. No money changed hands but the females went home with all the seeds. Bob, you are toooo weird!

B replied:

I’m too wierd? You’re the one that knows the answers.

I think you’ve spent way too much time with those parrots. But it’s good to know stuff like that in case anyone ever asks, which I did.

By the way, who has the beads now?

M answered:

I don’t know. The male parrots say the females stole them along with all the seed but the girls deny it.

B replied:

Now I know why Catholism is so mysterious. There aren’t answers to everything. Maybe you could ask the priest next time you see him.

And, rereading this, I just noticed that the second parrot’s name is Peter. Maybe Ernest is his middle name. Also, I still don’t know if the female parrots are Catholic, but they do seem to be catholic. Don’t get it; look it up?


Prowling his own quiet backyard or asleep by the fire, he is still only a whisker away from the wilds. - Jean Burden

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