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...over-educated and under-experienced, or so they say...

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Reminder: BLOG

I've lost that lovin' feeling, like an anemic visited by one too many ticks. The resource has gone dry: part-time love affair, part-time singer/song writer, part-time dreamer... don't quit your day job and remember that reality was meant to bite, just like Winona Ryder was meant to end her movie career as a shop-lifter and Mel Gibson was meant to go down as an anti-semitic overly zealous Catholic with a bad divorce and a ridiculous earring.

(God help us when the Catholics decide to get over zealous. Everyone expects a Bible thumping Baptist screaming hell, fire, and brimstone, but an overly pompous preachy Catholic? I think that's an oxymoron of some kind, at least where I grew up it is. I used to envy the Catholic kids I went to school with. They all sinned whenever and where ever they wanted and had no fear of Hell because they were absolved every Wednesday and Sunday morning like clockwork. As a Baptist? Well... you were potentially traveling down the slippery slope if you owned a deck of Hoyle playing cards and all the nerdy kids that are now successful billionaires were doomed for dabbling in the satanic arts of make believe in their dad's garage because they rolled a set of ten sided dice and created their own plot lines and characters with the help of a book called Dungeons And Dragons. And there was no amount of confession or penance that could save you from the doom you repeatedly brought upon yourself for listening to Ozzy Osborne. The only thing that could save you was complete repentance from your overactive imagination and Go Fish, as well as a potential bonfire made up of sinful vinyl records that you should've never purchased in the first place as an external show of your spiritual commitment to change. You never heard ridiculous stories of fears and judgements like that come from the Catholic kids. They just sorta looked at you and said, "You burned your records? Do you like being Baptist?" And you just sorta looked at them and said, "Um... I bet I can beat you in Bible trivia!")

Anyway... the thing is... what I really mean... (and yes I'm going to stop myself before I quote Elton John, which probably also makes me a bad Baptist because I can quote Elton John) aside from the random and the fact that I've been up since 2:30 a.m. thinking about all of the things in my life at the moment that irritate the hell out of me (that also makes me a bad Baptist, by the way, my use of "four letter words"), I have no inspiration. I am, once again, in the habit of giving everything I've got to everyone else who wants a piece of the pie.

(whatever that is -- "pie." I just felt like saying it because for some reason it made me think of The Jefferson's and their deluxe apartment in the sky, which is definitely not what I'm living in, though I did have a good laugh about that when my mother was high as a kite the other day after coming out of her knee surgery and she told me how proud of me she was because I'm the "big shot" in the family, which is really pathetic for me and everyone else in the family if sitting in a cubicle 40 hours a week and getting paid just enough to live in an apartment with neighbors like Windmill Dick and the girl that thinks her dog responds to the F - word makes me the "big shot" in the family (that makes me a little bit of a better Baptist right there because I said "F - word" instead of the actual word). She's over it now though. She laughed like it was the craziest thing she'd ever heard herself say when I told her about it, which is way more like it. I really do wish I had a little of whatever they'd put in her I.V. though. I might have a little more of that lovin' feeling I've apparently lost if I had some of whatever that was.)

Pie... want a piece of me? It's going fast!

(I just noticed that I put parenthetical statements within my rambling parenthetical statements and I'm pretty sure that's as good as it gets today)

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