Hammer-Strike Lightning (Strawberry Tongues)

Monday. I have a pretty good attitude today. On Saturday night, in between sushi & sake with my lovely girlfriend who is way more awesome than I can comprehend, she reminded me that as I write a lot, it's likely that I can start pushing that side of my life towards a career. Using one's talents to make a living is a dream of most people's. To be my own boss, as oddly egotistically Catch-22 as that is, is a drive. As we concluded, my mind was trying to erase old & useless information (goodbye, real names of professional wrestlers) for new topics I could write about. So as I have that to look forward to, I decided that Monday would not be the day I power-vomit on co-workers for, you know, kicks.

Today is apparently the most depressing day of the year. There's even mathematical evidence, for you sayers of nay, doubters of the Thomas strain. Dick holes.
And I feel pretty dang good. I bet the really depressed people are even MORE depressed today, because they hate Mondays and because they have a sense of their depression, as opposed to someone like me, who denies depression any shelfspace in my life by not being an over-intense asspipe about how other's live their lives. I don't get overly concerned on days I feel a bit down, and on days I feel great, I keep it going by heaping insults on people I could give two bile-churros about. I find a balance between being at peace and speaking my mind when there's an actual reason to airing it out. Otherwise I sit back and observe and relax.
I'm not better than anyone else, and some people I know are way worse than they believe they are. They'll tell you they dwell in reality, but for the most part they are characters in a one-person show called "This Goes On Forever And I Keep It From Being Fun."
Protect ya neck.

What's In A Name, Besides Personal Identity and Precursors of Success?
MSN posted the Top 10 Baby Names given by parents who like the "sound" of things more than any specific weight. After reading these names, try and guess how many of these dads have tribal arm-band tattoos, while mom's still sporting "The Rachel" cut?

Top 3 for the female chi'dren were as follows:
1: Emma 2: Madison 3: Emily.
These names do not, in my mind, denote any sort of strength, and will look really odd in a small-town Police Blotter under "Public Drunkenness" in 18 years.
Emma evokes Victorian collars and pale skin, cheeks reddened by the touch of a brisk autumn morn, stabling a slightly-built dervish of a mare, "Threshold" after a ride to the swelling river with Aidan (#2 for the boy's names), an intense man 6 years her senior, raven haired and steel-eyed, his chest hair cradling his saintly, buried mother's crucifix, wafting forth the musky dew of saltpeter, tobacco, and other masculine pursuits.

Unless she opens a baby boutique, "Emma" will likely NOT be hittin' the Business Announcements under "New CEOs!"
Baby naming is very important.
Ever seen the website www.Kabalarians.com? Well, now you have access to it. Basically it's a name-checking site that tells you the key characteristics of a person with your name (for Larry's sake, they even have "Shaquille" and "Kelis"). Here's what I dug up for "Madison."
Madison: Your first name of Madison has made you happiest when you are expressing in some creative, artistic way, and not conforming to strict routine. In a large group of comparative strangers, you are quiet and rather shy, unable to express yourself, not really wanting to become involved in conversation. On the other hand, among friends with whom you feel at ease, you are expressive, witty, and quite charming. These contrasting natures make it difficult for people to understand you and can lead to friction in your personal life. You are deep, philosophical, and refined, but your extremely sensitive nature causes you to become depressed and self-pitying over any real or imagined slight.
Luckily for thee, Madison, Connor(#10) Forthright Dalrymple IV has taken a fancy to you. Of course, with a disposition such as yours, you'll likely bear girl child after girl child into the House of Dalrymple, and befall a great illness of the humours that will drive Connor into the arms of the town whore... YOUR OWN SISTER, CINNAMON FURBURGER!

Dream A Weirdass Dream

Had a dream the other night about being in a comedy club. Surrounded by a gaggle of comics. A few of them had their tongues cut out, and were bleeding but still trying to talk. A few others sported some major skin infections, and everything they touched became covered in a green, mold-like substance that launched spores into the air. At least one other comic was stumbling around with a gun, crying and making a lot of noise and threats. They faces were all people I see on a regular basis.

Did I mention that this weekend brings us to the Finals of the Giggles Comedy Club Laugh-Off?

The same women from a couple weeks ago are again talking child-rearing, which they seem to believe should include spanking. After a look at these gals, yeah, go ahead and spank your kids. The way most of these families are going, Jerry Springer AND Open Mics will never be low on people looking to get on stage. This must be why many men would like to see mothers working only at home. I've heard more stories about this ho-tard's episiotomy than I've heard dick, black hack, or drug side-effect jokes at open mics.
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SCORE!

Everybody have a great Monday.
~ Geoffrey Diane Lott

Take Me Home

My Non-Funny Blog.