I have a question bouncing around in my head. it's not a particulatly clever question, I am not at all sure it even makes sense. Kind of came to me in a medicated haze. But it's bugging me, so here it is...

So there are a couple different versions of that Last Supper thingie. One gospel says that Jesus said that he would be betrayed by someone there but not who it was. One said that he would be betrayed by Judas. The assumption/belief whatever is that Judas was for whatever reason and ass, evil/mean/spiteful, what have you. He betrayed Jesus and was ultimately responsible for his death. But could the betrayal really have been the Gospel of Judas itself?

Or is it the rambling of some nutcases in the second century just trying to create a stir?


Is that a puppy in your pants, or are you just REALLY happy to see me?

I don't know if the poor thing will prove to be more traumatized from the ride or because it's called a "puggle".


Growed up

When I I'm all growed up I want to be...something.
I have given it much thought. I don't want to be a nurse because I have changed more adult diapers than then average bear already. Not gonna do that again. I thought maybe..PA, but every since ER and HIV Jeannie, it's become somewhat of a fad...It might be fun to be a doctor but then I think about gross anatomy and it's like, GROSS for a reason. Ick. I have trouble handling a dead fish. I have little doubt I would have considerably more trouble with a cadaver. WIth my luck I would get one fo my elementary school teachers. Igg. I thought for a while, I could be an engineer, but I suspect I would get very bored with that VERY quickly. My mom had suggested being and IT person but again...B.O.R.I.N.G!!!! That handly seems worth the 2 weeks of school to get the "certificate". Maybe I could be a...whatever it is you get to be with a degree in physics. That would be fun, however interesting it might be though, I suspect it too would loose interest for me. But then I started thinking, something interesting, imperfect, that I can relate to. Psychology. More specifically, the deviant mind. There are no depths to the deviants in this world, myself among them. And minor in world religions. So I could be all like Fox Mulder with the profiles and the ritual mutilations. Yeah baby. Messy mucky fun.


"We're suspending disbelief. It's all pretend."
-Robson Golightly Greene (2005)



hee, hee...


Sorry...I just couldn't help it.

No to crack!

I am sovery impressed. The plumber is here and he fits NONE of the old stereotypes. He's even wearing a belt!
You go, nice, appropriately clad public service, even able to speak in complete sentences plumbing guy!



I still remember when those "I've fallen and I can't get up" commercials started running. What great fun we all had mimicing and lauching about it. Imagine. Little old men and women falling down everywhere. Stuck in akward positions on the floor...alone. Funny.
I have to admit though, I remember a particular incident that while amusing in retrospect was not then.
My wheelchair-confined grandmother made what she considered to be a wise decision, at least to her stroke-muddled brain and decided to release the break on her chair while positioned at the top of the wooden ramp we had installed to get her from the house, across the porch and down to the sidewalk. I assume to pluch the dying heads off some fo the flowers in the garden. She rolled along a couple feet, then hit the lip of the ramp and the chair stopped, but her body had enough forward momentum to tip her over. Probably the clearest memory I have of dear Grammie was of her planted face first, granny brief-clad rear end in the air for all to see in the flower garden. And her main concern was that the man acrosss the street who tended to just watch the neighbors all the time in an almost creepy way had seen her panties. Forget the fact that she had in that few second moment between rolling her out and setting the break, to turn and close the front door she took quite the header...she could have broken her neck, back, hip...none of that mattered. What did matter was that everyone would know the color of her panties.
I look back and chuckle, because really, it was like a moment out of a sitcom. Then when I am ready to walk away, it's me lying on the ground. I always attributed it to plain klutziness, but what if it's more than that? Is there a whoopsie gene? Or is it just that 99% of the time my mind is somewhere else entirely? Or maybe my condition that I have done my best to ignore, deny, fight beyond-whatever has had an effect on my balance, or more likely my ability to do something as simple as walk, or sit in a chair without incident. I don't know. What I do know if after the last couple days I will no longer be so rudely amused by helplessness.


There is a time...

So I understand that there is a time for everything, and that there is a REASON for everything. And we don't always understand the reasons.
Whether it's a single omnipotent entity, a matrix of energies, a whole flock of lesser dieties, or just a few mostly insane highly intelligent beetles from the fourth galazy to the left who have had a few extra doses of their meds, somehow, us mere mortals lare left to just accept it and live with it. In any case it's bulls**t.
I have had the crappiest last few months and so I am really leaning toward the alien bug theory. Unless that is, I care to fall back on the spiteful child's toy morble thing...

First, I discovered that no one in FL can be trusted to do something as simple as their job. And somehow, the customer is expected to be grateful that the CONTRACTED EMPLOYEE deemed to show up at all even if it's just to throw a beer party by your pool while you're away. And then they steal your recycle bins. They threaten and harrass you. They give you headaches, and yet somehow you feel bad for those fleeting thoughs that maybe, just maybe there will be a gas leak in the truck and when they start it up - woosh! Dunno. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother.

I get that there are very few REALLY intelligent people in the world, taking into consideration the whole definition of average. So I don't expect the "average" Joe to you know, make an intelligent decision, but come on...the older I get, the more people I have the misfortune to meet, the more I wonder how the hell humans a species survived as long as we have. And I no longer have the energy to pity the ignorant. These days it's shallowly disguised distaste and I suppose eventually it will be open disgust. Whatever. I no longer think it is such a bad thing to feel superior anymore. At least I'm not stupid.

Then there was just the parade of crap going wrong. Cars going kaput. Tony 4000 miles away. Anything and everything that can break, has. It's insane. It's like some major karmicc kick in the ass and the thing is, I fail to see how it was anything I deserved. I am a good person. I am a kind person. I buy one of those little feed the world cards in the grocery everry time I shop. When they ask if I want to dnate to help homeless animals, I of course say yes. I put change in the red pot manned by the bell rining Santa. I open doors for oldleand play peek-a-boo with toddlers in their parent's shopping carts. I let cars cut in fromt of me even if I am in a hurry. I say please and thank you. I don't lie, cheat or steal. I have even handed over a chunk of the groceries to people holding up "Homeless, hungry" signs.

I got my puppy when he was a couple months old. He could sit in my hand, he yipped and chewed on my books made a general mess. He grew up with my little girl and he follwoed me around wherever I might go for almost 11 years. He was my dragon. And I watched the glow fade from him. Even though he was "old" I watched him truly grow old over the course of a few months. Until I could see the pain in his eyes, and the plea for release. And then I sat on the floor and stroked his head and told him how much I loved him as I paid the vet to kill him.

My father, who struggled and fought for years to survive died alone, unattended in a place he hated. He wanted so much to be home. Around people he knew and loved who knew and loved him. I was sure we had finally convinced him to work towards a new start. He was finally willing to go through the process to get the replacement pasts he needed to take a chance at a normal life again, and then suddenly, it's all for nothing.

My mother sugeests that there still may be a ways to go before hitting rock bottom. I question my ability to take any mre crap. But hey it IS Beat on Brandy year, so what the hell. Anyone else care to join in?


Working Girl

So like, I was all like thrilled and proud of me cause I, like got a job and like stuff relatively quickly in this area, from what I understand. Not only that, but they said, how much are you expecting to get paid and I told them and like, I got it and everything. So like way cool.

But there is of course a downside, because there is ALWAYS a downside. Seems to me like there is always a penalty for being content...in my world that is. There always seem to be so many people happily tooling along and then there's me...now on the flip side, there are always people who are struggling to stay aflot and many who drown. And I am not worse off than they...at least I don't think so at the moment, but give me time I am sure that I will change my mind.



Being working makes me busy. NO mores time to play the bloggie. Must makesie time. Yammer and complan.Lotses to say!