Monthly Archives: February 2013

The Eternal Question

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Since the dawn of time, or the dawn of electricity, the eternal question of ‘does the light really stay on when you close the refrigerator door?’ has elicited even the most scholarly of persons to scratch their heads in collective wonder.   The unknown is always a frightening journey and this one is no less daunting.  The task of determining the answers to such life altering questions such as ‘if a tree falls in the forest does anybody hear it?’, ‘what is the true meaning of life?’ and ‘Why is Paris Hilton famous?’  has fallen to the most highly regarded intellects, revered for their intelligence and respected for their unique perspectives.    All have made summations based on scientific fact or philosophical pondering, but none have determined the ultimate answer.  Theories abound, yet citizens everywhere lie awake at night determined to discover the truth and unlock the secret to the eternal question.

fridge door

The quest for the answer has begun quite similarly to the quest for the Holy Grail.  The clues are right in one’s very own kitchen; the catch is to know what to look for.  Every two year old on the planet has spent hours opening  and closing the refrigerator door numerous times, staring blankly at the little light emanating from its depths wondering what it was doing there and is it still on keeping the Mini-Go’s from getting lonely?   Alas, we continue to wonder the same thing.  The light in the refrigerator has baffled many a genius, and two-year old alike, with its constant brilliance and warmth.  The clues, all held in the surrounding tile floor of the kitchen, are hidden to the naked eye, but at closer glance reveal the true answer; the one solid  reality that fails to be recognized.   We only see the light in the refrigerator because we have been conditioned to see it.  There isn’t one true light coming from the fridge, the light comes from the…oh, wait.  I was about to divulge the secret.  I can’t be held responsible for the ultimate secret being revealed to society at this juncture.  I’m afraid the world can’t handle that kind to truth, or that kind of mind-blowing genius.

The Eternal Question of ‘does the light stay on or go off when you close the refrigerator door?’ will ultimately be answered by future generations.  The brevity of such a revelation will transform the patterns of thought of philosophers and scientists alike for centuries.  Until that discovery, the secret is safe with me….

If this kid is in charge of discovering the answer, there could be trouble.

If this kid is in charge of discovering the answer, there could be trouble.

 

 

The Word Game

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words

There’s a wrestling match going on inside my head and so far Rogue is losing to the opponent.  Problem is I’m not sure who or what the opponent is.  He remains nameless and faceless.  I resolve to write a great post full of wit and wisdom and end up with this…this…rambling and fumbling of words.  I fucking hate that.

In order to free up the creative process, let’s play a little game.  I’ll say a word and the other me will write down the first thing that pops into my head.  It’s easier when there is more than one ‘you’ inside your head.  Yay for mental health!  Ready, people?  Let’s go!

Ball- Run

String- This is stupid

Room-  With a view!  I win!

Desk- A Fucking mess

Lindsay Lohan-  Also, a fucking mess

Pen- With which to write which I haven’t, thus the need for this idiotic exercise. Next.

Apple- Crunchy

Chair- Dumb chair.  Fell over it this morning…oh. Sorry.

Dog-   The cutest wittle doggie evah…ahem.  Again, sorry.

Weight- Wait?  Or WEIGHT!  Like HOLY SHIT I WEIGH HOW MUCH? Or HOLY SHIT I HAVE TO WAIT HOW LONG?!!  Which one?  Both are evil.

Fruit-  Owns a hair salon and totally denies he’s gay…oh!  You mean FRUIT, like apples and oranges and stuff…again with the apples? Ugh.

Heat- Totally absent in this space and therefore I am FUCKING FREEZING!!  Hello?!! Oh!  I meant house.  I’m home today…back to the words…

Keys-  Ima gonna need a new set when they change the locks on the door…to my HOUSE of course, because that’s where I currently am.  HOME.  Yeah.

Florida- where I should be at the moment.

Book- Love them all, read them all, wrote a couple…awesome stuff.

Paper- Umm….white, blank lately, some have lines, trees died for them?  What do you want from me?

Elvis- We went from paper to Elvis?  Really?  “Thank you, you’re beautiful”.  All I got.

The lights are on but no one’s home-  The story of my life…This is supposed to be ONE word.

Money-  Apparently not something young adults take downtown so instead of  YA being able to get home independently, she feels the need to call the mommy so she can meet her at a location only to have that location change when mommy gets there due to the absence of money and the YA’s ability to avail of the public transportation system therefore, after much yelling and throwing of cell phone in car, (which sadly now works intermittently at best) mommy dutifully drives all over fucking town (since the location of pick up changed twice after the first time) to rescue daughter and friend only to hear  “thanks” and “well, if you had let me take the car this wouldn’t have happened”…. Good thing my phone is due for an upgrade….

Fuck off- See above.  ‘nuff said.

Thank you for playing.  See you next time on WORD ASSOCIATION-THE BEST GAME FOR YOUR MENTAL HEALTH.

Disclaimer Clause:  It should be noted that no harming of any cars, horses, dogs, cats, wandering hobos, daughters or cell phones occurred in the above scenario.  Swearing was kept to whispers and loud voices in my head…I think it was implied in the yell of “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T HAVE ANY MONEY?  WHO GOES DOWNTOWN WITHOUT CASH?!!  TELL ME!  WHO DOES THAT?!”   Ugh….

WTF? A Question Without An Answer….

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Good morning/afternoon/evening/whatever the fuck time zone you are in readers and welcome to the first installment of WTF?  A new series dedicated to the bizarre and often strange happenings of not only the universe pissing its inane sense of humor on all of us unfortunate beings, but the strange reaction we beings seem to have to this pissing match.  Let the urinating begin!

-I don’t know what the strange orange crap is that appeared on my keyboard today, but I’m hoping it will kindly disappear from whence it came. Apparently the disinfectant wipes don’t fucking work on orange crap.  Awesome.  Thank you.

-My daughter is reading Macbeth in English class…she is not impressed so I decided to text her a quote.  I think I’ll text  a whole soliloquy later just so she can be astounded and amazed by my awesomeness.  That’s how it works, right?  Quoting Shakespeare to your seventeen year old daughter?  Yeah, I’m so cool right now.

– The rattling noise in my car is still there.  I’ve wisely decided that it is intent on producing such harmonious sounds so as to extract a venomous reaction from yours truly.  I’m choosing the Penny solution.  I know it’s there, I’m hoping it will go away.  I’ll just ignore it until it falls dead on the road or it silently fades into oblivion.  There.  Problem solved.  The League of Nations should be calling me soon to solve the world peace issue.  I’ll just wait here patiently by the phone.

-Stuffing money down your bra when you’re hammered at the poker table and think you’ve just won a million dollars by beating every sober person around you, counts in real time poker too.  Where’s Bestie’s bracelet?  Vegas baby!!!

-My explanation for the downfall of my previous blog has hit all new heights since everybody now thinks I’m dead.  They think my old blog has been imploded due to my untimely and grisly demise.  Death by blogging.  A truly horrific event.  I think there’s a dedicated Facebook page in my memory.  Please sign and let me know you care…or cared…or… yeah.  I expect awesome eulogies, and sentimental anecdotes.  Father Leslie is not invited…nor should he be notified.  He might say something like “her math was terrible, but what a good housewife she was.”  Is it blasphemy to swear at a priest?   Hmmm….Should I care about that if I’m dead?  OH!  Don’t forget the bringing of flowers.  Lots o’pretty  flowers….awww….

-In other news totally unrelated to anything news-worthy or logical, a Dutch airline is holding an investigation into an alleged copilot allegedly sleeping while allegedly operating a plane.  The pilot was out of the cockpit taking a …well, leak…bathroom break…draining the main vein.  You get my drift.  He tried to get back into the cockpit but was locked out.  Seems co-pilot was too sleepy to let him back in. It’s all quite speculative right now.  I think if the co-pilot fell asleep, he no longer qualifies as ‘operating’ the plane…that means while the pilot was out relieving himself and the co-pilot was snoozing in dreamy-dreamland, then logically…THERE WAS NOBODY FLYING THE DAMNED PLANE!!  Where’s Samuel L. Jackson when you need him?  Ugh.  So, congrats to the Dutch airline for broadcasting this tiny flaw in the airline biz and the balls to come out and say that co-pilots pretty much do squat.  Awesome.  I think my next career is set.  Co-pilot for the Dutch airlines.  Do I have to speak Dutch?  Hmm….Oh, right.  I’m dead already, so I can speak whatever language I choose!  I choose the illustrious language of pig latin.  Iway ockray.

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