Allergic to New Hampshire

Dentures how to keep them in #1
Dentures how to keep them in #1 (Photo credit: Kathy McGraw)
English: Act of giving the finger.
English: Act of giving the finger. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The well and not so, well, infliction and matters of remorse found only within the Confines of New Hampshire:


1. Spells:

‘What happened to Grandma Ruth?  She seemed fine at the church bake and wake sale!’

*She had a spell!  She’s had them before.  Doctor says that there ain’t cure for spells.  She took too many falls retrieving her dentures off the lawn… and welp, that led to her spells!

2. Post Nasal Drip:

Local researchers have unmasked the horrible ,horrible and completely horrible truth to C.O.P.D!  It is not caused by years of smoking due to an anxiety disorder produced by living with someone who is in dire need of psychotropic medications and with whom you find the need to sing ‘King of Anything.’

No, the Chronic Obstruction of Pacifier Disorder is directly caused by post nasal drip!

“Who says?”

My father!  The man who has perfect pitch when it comes to being right and the person directly linked to persons wanting to drink and/or smoke in his presence…due to his need to allow you to share in his opinion.

come to think of it

“What are the symptoms?”

*At first you will smoke like there is no tomorrow during a debate with persons who believe the are always right.  Possibly a discussion on black athletes and their pay scale.  Then slowly you will feel the need to stuff you emotions.  Shoving them so deep into the crevices of everything that feels right.  Eventually, this baggage will have no where to go but out.  Typically the only way out is through…the nasal cavity.  Similar to a leaky faucet that can never be fixed.

3.This years strain of New Hampshire Bronchitis has been located in the small town of Canterbury!  An elderly man there…one which will not be named due to his direct threat of tossing catholic guilt around, has announced to his family that his bronchial tubes are swollen.  The swelling has been caused by Christmas decorations!  Basically, he is allergic to Christmas!

This senior to a wealth of useless knowledge will go down in the annals of regurgitated history for the following discovery:

Have a seat we should talk
Have a seat we should talk

To remain completely anti-social in regards to physical and mental health one most watch the Weather Channel continuously while basking in the vacant taste of black tea.  Sipping slowly thru a facial mask.

If the subject at hand feels the need to have intercourse metaphysically with the outside world…gently crack open the shut in windows to the house of righteousness.  Extend the left hand…fold down all but one finger and with the middle digit raised high…test the winds of change…sleep soundly in the knowledge that only the good die young.

The Right to Extreme Stupdity League: R.E.S.L


the wit and wisdom of life can be found under the bed and in the far corner of your unfinished basement!…

S.S.P. A.K.A-
Society of Stupid People

angry boilers deserve their own sitcom

the Art of Existing Soberly

Today, had been a day like none other.  For it is and was the first day of the rest of our lives.  We are what we will be.  And, the end is always near.  Death is never illusive it gives to everyone.

Not long ago, at an A.A. round table of deep egotistical sober minds.  Median age?  Approximately, 65!  There had been years upon infinite years of old drunks turned sideways, kitty cornered and plunked down in the middle of the spectacle:  Simple Minds Big Book study, Saturdays 10: a.m. to 11:15.  Providing no one had been long-winded during the smoke break.  Life ended quickly for sobriety at 11:16!

A purple lady had sat in a mauve Scooter by design.  She looked to be about as old as the dirt on the nearby Farmer Tom’s shit kickers.  The question at the Big Book thumping party?  Thinking of self less not less of self!

The purple lady toyed with her beads strung like dream catchers ’round her natively un-tan neck.  Eyes half-open.  She spoke little and listened more.

With the conclusion being…there just is no end to being humble.  It is a thankless job amongst the piously clean and sober.  The group of Wo-Be-Gotten days grew restless.

Our lady of mood ring colors cleared her throat.  The room hung in silence to the awaited Zen prodigy’s remarks.

” I have been in this toilsome crowd of self-centered addictive behavior for more years than I care to brag.  I’ve more made mistakes than graffiti written on a crowded subway wall.”

with my head on loan and hands a glow her nature's ravenous fool
with my head on loan and hands a glow
her nature’s ravenous fool

Everyone gasped.  It is the silent one’s who ran deep with pearls of humble pie lessons.

Cough, gasp, half choke and sputter.

A raspy but sultry voice began again.

“This I know to be true.  I have gone to the far reaches of sobriety and life and found no rest for the shit I have pulled.  And, trust me, my bags of trash talk were full from a road of not wise decisions….

I can’t beat them.  Humility.  Being humble.  Accepting life on life’s terms.  I tried!  The best I can come up with is letting myself have a break from me.  Knowing I can only just keep trying to get it all right.”

sobriety's bible video
sobriety’s bible video

Fuck That!

Today, tonight and yesterday…the day before and the day before that…I let my guard down. I believed people could be trusted.
As a rule of thumb persons cannot be trusted. We have all learned that the hard way. I suppose the one’s that choose to keep on giving up the ghosts are the more ‘poetically’ situated persons. People sitting ’round in a cafe’ somewhere with big dopey smiles on their face.
Adults gazing off into the distance as a fight breaks out in a convenience store at the local Gandhi-Mart. Gazing and nodding and grinning and pissing people off with that holier than thou attitude.

Fuck off!!
Fuck off!! (Photo credit: sammzoo)

To those who come upon life blindly believing that the world is a better place because of the lies. A sort of Ying/Yang, learning from the bad to make good idealism. For all those who gather on mountain tops to avoid the population below by preaching devotion to the great wild woods. To anyone who claims to be different because it seems like the thing to be…at the time…
Tonight, with all the spirituality I can muster I say:
‘fuck you and the beaten by dead philosophers and poets pony you rode in on!’

You talk too much, you talk too much,
I can’t believe the things that you say everyday
If you keep on talking baby,
you know you’re bound to drive me away
Now you get on the telephone with your girlfriend,
your conversation baby ain’t got no end
Yakety-yakety-yakety-yak all the time,
you keep on talking baby drive me out of my mind
You talk too much,
I can’t believe the things that you say everyday
If you keep on talking baby,
you know you’re bound to drive me away
Well I laid out in the afternoon I start to nappin’,
you walk into the room with them jaws a-flappin’
You keep that motormouth moving morning, noon and night,
you keep on talking baby make my head turn white
You talk too much,

Fuck off all nerds.
Fuck off all nerds. (Photo credit: ancient history)

I can’t believe the things that you say everyday
If you keep on talking baby,
you know you’re bound just to drive me away
I think you’re trying to put me through some kind of test,
I’m begging you baby won’t you give it a rest
You talk about people that you don’t even know,
keep it up baby I’m gonna pick up and blow
You talk too much,
I can’t believe the things that you say everyday
If you keep on talking baby,
you know you’re bound to drive me away
Don’t get me wrong baby I don’t mean to complain,
but if you keep on talking you’re gonna drive me insane
You keep on talking all around the clock,
I’m begging you baby won’t you please stop
You talk too much,
I can’t believe the things that you say everyday

Just Don't Give a Fuck
Just Don’t Give a Fuck (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

If you keep on talking baby,
you know you’re bound to drive me away

Getting Weak Inside?

Later in life, within the time constraints of being young enough to fuck anywhere, anyhow and with anyone…and along the fine edges of knowing you should know better but go ahead and practice the art of difficult positioning and learning that mixing grape jelly and Vic‘s Vapor rub is not the brightest perverted idea you’ve had…

Fuck Them All
Fuck Them All (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

about this time in adulthood of ‘do as I say not as I do’ flirtations a common sense person would understand the following to be true:
I am highly allergic to nuts…I should avoid them at all costs. Bee’s can cause severe drooling and puddles of paranoid bouts of sweat. Tequila makes me feel ten feet tall and endowed with iron clad balls. Heights of any sort require a good strong dose of Ativan and a strong spiritual sense that your time could come at any minute. Lastly, run in’s with the ball breaking authority figures shaped like donuts should not be addressed with ‘I don’t give a fuck what you think…I know that light was green a second ago.
If the above equations to midlife bedlam and mayhem can be considered to be truth. Mind you I am not a scientist. I abhor analytical minds. This equals that and therefore there can be no variation is akin to saying: I had an orgasm on this particular day of the week using the helicopter method while hanging from a chandelier and so it will be that on that particular day whilst practicing that same technique the orgasm will occur again.  Not!
Mad scientist or not. I still eat peanuts. I still climb to heights beyond medical control. And, unfortunately, I have had more ‘there is talk of arrest’ with the local police sober than drunk.
You know what else I do? Dabble in the art of understanding women. Women are the pecans lighted salted and roasted and are in need of my craving to feast on the forbidden fruit or nut in my case. Females often can be seen as the honey to which my bread needs spreading. And, most certainly, the femme fatale’ have caused my inside to burn out and turn on and shut down quicker than an Ethiopian long distance runner.

Lucinda Williams + Jimmy Livingstone - Sun 23 ...
Lucinda Williams + Jimmy Livingstone – Sun 23 June 2013 -0286 (Photo credit: The Queen’s Hall)

Why do we go back to the ‘habits’ of quenching that thirst? What within our animal nature conjures that little demon on the left shoulder to say, ‘yeah, that looks pretty good for a Friday night and the big bed delights.’ Where is the good angel? I don’t suppose I’ve ever seen him or her. I have fallen to the wayside of ‘I wonder what’s behind door number two’ more times than not.
I ate a peanut today whilst watching a lovely lady curved like a race track at the Daytona 500 and accentuated with just the right shade of radiant skin. I pulled the truck into gear, looked down at the empty wrapper of allergic liaisons and realized lust is as much a symptom as a cure.

Not a day goes by I don`t think about you
You left your mark on me it`s permanent a tattoo
Pierce the skin and the blood runs through
Oh my baby
The way you move it`s right in time
The way you move it`s right in time
It`s right in time with me
I stand over the stove in the kitchen
Watch the water boil and I listen
Turn off the television
Oh my baby
The way you move it`s right in time
The way you move it`s right in time
It`s right in time with me

I take off my watch and my earrings
My bracelets and everything
Lie on my back and moan at the ceiling
Oh my baby
Think about you and that long ride
I bite my nails I get weak inside
Reach over and turn off the light
Oh my baby

Some Like It Hot
Some Like It Hot (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The way you move it`s right in time
The way you move it`s right in time
It`s right in time with me
The way you move it`s right in time
The way you move it`s right in time
It`s right in time with me