By Francis Marion
I have writer’s block.
It’s not for lack of things to write about in my personal life or in world events but for the past six months, I just haven’t felt like I’ve had anything new or interesting to say.
No words of wisdom, no earth-shattering revelations and no interest in rehashing topics that have been talked about dozens of times by people smarter than me.
I think part of the problem is that I’m past the point of talking and moving more towards the “I’m done talking” point.
So I focus on other things to keep myself and my mouth out of trouble.
I spent Sunday installing new brake pads on my wife’s Mercedes up at a hunting buddy’s place. He’s a heavy duty mechanic who helps me with jobs that I think are a little more complicated than I want to handle on my own.
After working with him on it for the afternoon I realized I could have done it by myself but that it would have taken me twice as long since he already knew what he was doing. He likes German cars and is familiar with them.
The job wasn’t that complicated but it was a nuisance. I probably wouldn’t need his help again but he’d likely offer it anyways. That’s friendship as I understand it so I offered him a hand replacing the rear struts in his car whenever he decided he wanted to do the job. He doesn’t need my help but I can speed the process up and he likes the company and the banter.
As you get older the constant stream of jobs like this help you realize that life is filled mostly with tasks that have to be done.
Not enough of it is spent doing things that you really want to do. The trick being (and you figure this out as you go along) that if you have to do things that aren’t always enjoyable that you should at least do them with the people you like. Mind you, that probably goes for most things.
Earlier this summer I sat in the emergency room of our local hospital on a Saturday morning waiting for the physician to come and see me. I’d awoken at 1:00 AM in a hot sweat and short of wind with a pain in my side that made me feel like I’d gone a few rounds with a prizefighter.
I was sharing the room with an old fellow, probably in his mid to late eighties who was there complaining about a lack of memory. As he related his story to the social worker on hand I quickly realized that he didn’t really have any health issues. His wife had been gone for ten years and he had no children or siblings and was living independently. He was healthy but very much alone. I could tell it was torturing him. He wanted to be moved into a senior’s facility. He wanted the company of others his age. The way the social worker was talking I could tell he probably wasn’t going to get his wish. They don’t put healthy people into assisted care homes.
A while later my doctor showed up with a clipboard in her hand. She told me I had not one, not two but three kidney stones. At first, I was pissed. I was too busy to deal with that kind of crap but then I thought, at least I wasn’t that poor old guy who’d been sitting next to me in emerg. My stones would pass and so would my pain. His wouldn’t.
A couple of days later with one stone gone I packed up the family and headed north into the interior for a week at the lake. My son had been working full time but had managed to get his shifts arranged so that he could join us. On the last evening as we sat by the fire I watched him stand on the edge of the dock with his rod in hand and the dog in tow.
It occurred to me that this was probably the last of the vacations that we’d ever take together as a single family unit. The lad graduates next spring so he’ll be too busy working and getting ready to go off to university to go with us again next year. After that, who knows how things will pan out?
So I spent the summer trying not to take anything for granted.
Time with the people you love (and even like) is precious and short. I’m trying to remember that as this fourth turning heads slowly through its eye and back out again.
In the end, I don’t know what this storm holds for me, this country or yours. But as time passes I am convinced more and more that, short of a miracle, it will not pass peacefully.
As Sunday evening approached we rolled my wife’s car out of my friend’s garage as my son pulled our SUV in to have a quick look at its brakes. They’ve got about 20% left on the pads which is fine but the seal on the rear passenger side axle is leaking.
It’s a cluster fuck but then what isn’t these days? My buddy laughed and shook his head. “Can’t win for losing,” he quipped.
I smiled and said, “Ya well, at least I’m not alone.”
And I’m not. So there’s that.
Nicely done Francis. Writers block is not what you have. You are writing just fine. Not having anything to contribute is a perfect reason to sit on the sidelines and watch the show.
A wise column, Francis…I’m at about the same stage of life, where family and friends and nature are what keep me going…I do wish you would write some more fiction, you’ve got a real talent for it!
Thanks. Writing fiction is time-consuming. Much more so that what I just did. And since I run my own business and have a busy house with kids that are involved in a variety of different things I had to give something up. That’s why HighCountryBlog and fiction didn’t last too long. As much as I enjoyed it there are only so many hours in the day.
FM, thank you sir for this article. It is just what I needed. As I had shared, my wife was diagnosed with breast cancer last year and made a full recovery. Well my sister was diagnosed a few months ago and I have been questioning so many things. I kept coming back to two things: 1) Ecclesiastes 8:11-16; and 2) I’m done talking. I’m done trying to explain to brain-dead miscreants about the fingers of instability within my own life, and within this country’s.
I feel exactly the same. There is nothing to write about that I haven’t already written. So I don’t write unless something new grabs my attention.
Bullshit. There is plenty to write about. It is motivation that is lacking. Same goes for me. I have not written anything for you in ages. Thanks for all you do. When you are ready, you will write. And I, of course, will be there to make sure you get no free passes.
Well Jim, we need the occasional dose of reality that your posts provide. All the bullshit talk about the booming economy in the media and Trump buying into the same bullshit BLS and market numbers he said were bubbles during the campaign. Your last post put that myth to rest. Thanks… Chip
But at least I’m not alone. The most important thing you could have said. At least to my way of thinking.
Last night I had a dream about this very thing. I have run out of things to say myself so I have pulled back and done some reflection, watching the events of the world and the passing of the seasons as they unfold without commentary until the words come back, if they do. In the dream everyone I knew was packing up things and getting ready to leave- family members, people I know only from the Internet, old associates from times gone by, comics and grunts, carpenters and former neighbors, and I was trying hard just to get my pants on, unable to get my leg in the right hole. It was getting dark outside and I could hear the sound of engines revving up and people driving off and I was left behind in a strange building I no longer recognized- although earlier in the dream it had been my Grandparent’s home. By the time I was ready to go with them, they were gone. You don’t need to be EC to decode that one.
I took my daughter and one of her friend’s to the movies last night in Concord and as we drove there we almost ran over three or four squirrels that ran across the road. After a couple of minutes of near misses I couldn’t help but notice all the dead ones flattened on the pavement at the edge of the highway and every time I saw one I’d say “Squirrel” and they’d laugh and eventually they started joining in. Pretty soon it was a constant stream of voices calling out each one, squirrel, squirrel, squirrel… I joked that we were driving 70 squirrels per hour but the numbers were higher than that. It was a squirrelmageddon, a squirrelpocalypse, the end of the squirreld. Later as they sat in the theater watching the movie, and whispering to each other in the dark I lost the plot and my mind went back to the thousands of dead squirrels I’d counted and wondered about the phenomenon, something I’d never seen before or never noticed, and thought that there was something in that observation that could be turned into piece if I tried but then I thought it was better to just let it fade away like the movie, a series of images and scattered thoughts that were best left alone.
Then I read this and felt like sharing.
So, thanks for writing, it’s good to know that someone else out there is sharing the same squirrel-like thoughts.
As for the squirrels, we have the same thing in Maine. Wildlife biologists are saying that last
year gave an unusually large yield of nuts acorn, beech, walnut, and butternut resulting in
much better than usual survival rates. This year not so many nuts, the squirrels are having to range farther afield and getting killed for it.
Guys, driving south on 93 from the Hampster to Boston(Tull show)I saw easily over a couple of hundred squirrels on the side of the highway,have never before seen anything like it. I thought was seeing the beginning of a plague but feel abit better am just not imagining things,feel bad for whatever is driving the little dudes out on the highways.
Francis,nice write up,you can still have those family moments/vacations together just will require a little more planning,you all feel it is a good thing it will happen.
Brake pads are a easy fix,along with rotors/calipers ect.,diagnosing abs ect. a bit more of a challenge but doable.You went to your buddies because you just wanted to hang out together getting things done,nothing wrong with that.Rear struts very easy,front a bit more of a pain especially if just the strut and not a whole unit replacement,need a spring compressor then,and,be careful!
Funny. I smoked a squirrel on the road to the cottage this summer. I felt pretty bad about it for some reason (probably because it seemed like a waste). I tried to miss the little bugger but squirrels do this thing when they see a vehicle coming where they panic and run back and forth in the middle of the road in a vain attempt to escape. There’s only so much you can do to save a creature from itself without hurting yourself and your family in the process. I think about that a lot these days.
The rule of thumb here in the desert is run over the jackrabbit or squirrel, they will kill you if you swerve to miss them. Besides, the crows and coyotes got to eat.
I think that is very wise advice, EC. I do try to miss them without swerving, you know, just stay in the lane. I don’t really want squirrel or raccoon guts on my car.
We have a red squirrels around here, which are disappearing because they breed with grays and the gray genes must be dominant. I saw two dead reds right by each other today. I hate to see that. They are larger and more juicy..oh never mind.
https://youtu.be/SJ-xbY0k8-U
Gray squirrels are more territorial and bigger than reds. They out compete the red and displace them. Fortunately red and gray prefer different food .
Greys do not mate with reds. Greys are from England and kill the reds. I preferred the little reds over the greys and the blacks. In Nicaragua our squirrels are red, black and grey. Cute little fuckers, especially when they decide they want to eat coconut. Easy to surprise somebody/thing when they have their head in a hole in a coconut…
We get this same thing here in the AV. One year it will be jackrabbits, another year, crickets or black beetles or grasshoppers. Lately it’s furniture left by the side of the road.
No, you don’t need to analyze it to see that time’s a wastin’ – summer is coming to an end
https://youtu.be/pIKsHh3BFPI
My son, who is visiting Mordor on the Potomac whilst I recover in leisure has looked into a couple of places to see how poor a job I’ve done protecting my profile. He tells me his “big” interview is in St. Louis this Friday so he is headed home to wipe a lot of cooties I’ve gotten from this site and other sites. He thinks most of the harmful stuff on my laptop upstairs is from TBP and I imagine he is right.
After the way I’ve been treated by long term cyber friends and others who took some really malicious jabs at me when I’ve been down, I will still write here as I please and will comment here as I please but I will also take no shit from no body.
Since most readers, unused to holding anything in their heads beyond the most recent prepositional phrase, dodge long sentences as if they were poison to their egos. Which they are.
Now, where is my damn maple syrup? I like the Amish maple syrup okay, but it also lacks that crisp almost buttery flavor I’ve seen only in yours and in a little gift package from my former inlaws on Snob Hill in Lebanon, NH. I heard my former father-in-law has passed. He was a good person and I hope it was peaceful. I hope Gert is not stopping any more escalators.
And I will continue to speak until they drag me out the door.
Was there ever any doubt?
Christ almighty, I’ll send you one of my gallons of HSF’s finest if you’ll just STFU about it already.
Please do Rdawg,…. anything to shut her up
The squirrels are leaving and I can’t get my pants on…………………
I recently have started writing again about my youth. The bicentennial summer spent with my aunt martha in and around virginia was perhaps the best of my life. She was a travelling artist but owned a home beside her son’s home (or had some interest in it was my understanding) where he sold metal detectors and arranged money making treasure hunting events for clients. It was a great summer for a 14 year old kid from Podunk, Nowhere.
This is she and me “somewhere” that bicentennial year, after setting up all her larger pieces and getting her ready to write a bunch of kids names in fancy Calligraphy on oil tone parchment. I was qualified to oil tone the parchment.
No writing talent at all.
Mostly, on weekends we went to arts and crafts fairs. During the week, we went to museums or parks or beaches. It was a lot of fun and I learned a lot.
Now, about the weird feeling.
During the week days we would go to the beach at Fort Henry. It had a little public park with monuments and a beach the public could access with spray showers! if you didn’t mind the army dudes. And we didn’t.
One day, when we stopped by the gate to get our week’s pass, made out for “The Marthas” the guy at the gate shack said we might want to skip the beach. We thought him wrong and then found out he was right. Some weird thing had caused all the starfish in Chesapeake Bay to crawl onto the beach to die.
The starfish crawling onto that beach and dying and decaying already in the rising sun was more than we could take for more than a few minutes. We did pick up a few starfish home to dry, but that’s another story, actually the first short story I ever wrote.
Did I share it here some late night ramble? It was a decent little attempt at describing that writhing mass of dying starfish but I couldn’t get it to end well.
I woke up thinking about that. Is that what you mean? Where is my syrup?
In retrospect, you are right, the Bicentennial Summers of 75 and 76 were the best. Things have been going down hill since, although some say it has all been down hill since the Cabal killed Kennedy.
Will you send me a tiny thimble full of that syrup? I’m desperate I tell you. My husband came home with yet another bottle of Maple Syrup Flavored Sugar Free. If that farmer has determined to boycott Missourians wanting syrup, then I shall just have to start bootlegging it in from Nova Scotia.
Is syrup code for something else?
I know on the streets of Cali syrup has a WHOLE other meaning entirely.
Ever hear mumble rappers talking about leens?
If Yo doesn’t stop calling it alt-country, I am going to start down voting everything he says. It’s just good old fashioned country. The crap they play on the radio and you will see at the country music awards is what we call (around these parts anyways) Bro-country. So named because they started trying to mimic hip-hop and rap.
Good song, btw.
HF, I like the entire piece, I have always found that whatever you add to a dream narrative is part of the dream, even if it is a waking observation. It’s always a pleasure to decipher your comments!
The new bldg isn’t home or a familiar place. All the old people, the familiar faces, left in a hurry. As darkness covers the land, HF is desperate to leave also. Strange that he would want to join them but the fear of the unknown makes him panic enough that he has trouble putting his pants on. The fear makes him feel less of a man, men wear the pants, he can’t put them on. “Behold, I am coming like a thief. Blessed is the one who remains awake and clothed, so that he will not go naked and let his shame be exposed.”
Revving engines outside, a whole community escaping in a hurry, ahead of the catastrophe like the dust-bowl days. Grandma’s house is suddenly gone with the wind, HF appears in a new shelter; his own shell, new, unrecognizable in a strange environment, abandoned by the very people that comprised his own being. Family, close loved ones do not appear in this dream. Detachment and aloneness add to the darkness.
Alone, wondering who he is, like a fish out of water falling prey to an existential crisis of foreboding; watching the events of the world and the passing of the seasons without commentary. But fish don’t speak anyway, they only gape at the new world where their gills don’t work and fins are useless. Then there’s that horrible noise of car engines that is unfamiliar to a fish out of water. That strange rumbling like distant thunder announcing a terrible storm.
The squirrels illustrate the fate of those caught in the storm, they ran in a panic with no guide and fell on the path. “broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.”
At the movie theater, HF is lost in wonderment and neglects to see the big picture, it is nothing but a series of images and scattered thoughts he can’t quite put together so he leaves them alone just as he himself was left alone in the dream.
Much the same here. The imperative to say something has subsided. Besides most of it has already been said by hundreds here a thousand times better.
I feel the same way. Maybe it’s fatigue? My wish is the 4th Turning would accelerate. Notice the content on Drudge / Zerohedge / other sites – is less and less informative. I think everyone (who wants to be ) is wise to the current Shit Show – and there’s nothing left to ‘expose’.
Dutch…
Right you are.
Not even alt sites like Unz are telling me anything new. Time for talking is past, much as I dread what happens when I quit talking.
Talked with my neighbor yesterday. His buddy, who is 50, just found out he has stage 4 pancreatic cancer. Kinda puts things in perspective.
Read HF’s report on the mass killing of squirrels. Kinda puts things in perspective.
Friday, the day was warm, mid 90’s at 10 am. Wide expanses of open land are covered in rabbitbush. Joshua trees congregate in the desert north of Avenue N. The sage along Sierra blooms in generous blue while my own bushes will hardly yield a few spare blossoms if I water generously the night before. Out on 10 east just south of the old lumberyard, an abandoned crepe myrtle is blossoming in early September long after my own crepe myrtle lost all its enthusiasm.
In the desert, all along 70th east, all kinds of furniture appears overnight; sofas, desks, tube tv sets and mattresses. Used to be, about 10 years ago, you could find abandoned dogs out here almost daily. Now people are buying new stuff, throwing out granny’s old bed and keeping the pooch.
On 30th east about 40 feet south of Rancho Vista, there’s a pair of women’s shoes, size 7, beige, neatly aligned with the street like they are on display, if you’d like to go look at them, I tell her.
It’s as if her abductor took the time to leave them in order.
Nobody kidnaps a woman and takes the time to arrange her shoes, she says.
I think a lot of us are at that point. I have come to understand that the hive mind of media and entertainment have completely gaslighted many of the adults today. They are completely unreachable . Since that is the case , that leaves family and friends.
My kids are a little older. the older two are through college and working in the area. the youngest is a college senior, and despite my best efforts will probably take a job in a city 2 hours away. I see so many of my friends kids scattering to the winds. taking jobs half a continent away and I find it profoundly depressing. Is the money really worth it? couldn’t they find anything in the same area , or at least the same state. I was forthright with my 3, to remain a family and remain involved, they needed to stay in the same general area . We are still able to all get together occasionally and even go on vacation together. You should start talking to your kids about it before they go away to indoctrination(college).
one of my favorite blogs is http://www.thezman.com and he says repeatedly ” we aren’t going to be able to vote our way out of this” . I think he is correct . that leave 2 possibilities’, either we won’t get out of it, or that we will get out in form , but with an unknowable level of unpleasantness . So it really means things like career planning , beyond supporting the family are going to be of little use.
It almost like we are living a long -play version of the movie ” on the Beach ” .
I can relate. After working at several DoD positions, my wife and I settled in Minneapolis (although we were from Pennsylvania). But alas there were no opportunities for employment.
We have one daughter, who is married and lives 25 minutes away. Still, we may see them 10 times a year.
Yesterday (Sunday, Sept 9th) was a beautiful day, sunny, 75 degrees. We have a wonderful stone home on a lake, outside of Minneapolis (outside of Minneapolis is the right place to be). I have made a commitment to myself to enjoy the patio by the lake. All too often I’m working, either on code, or the home. A friend gave me 2 striped Bass (about 1.5 lbs each). I broiled the fish, made a remoulade sauce, and we drank a bottle of Rose on the patio.
Must do this more often.
You can’t top the news for inventive, creative, weird or outlandish. That will induce a state of mental impotence. I’ve been winning so much, I don’t know how much longer I can take it. That Sunday creeping into Monday feeling has swarmed summer and September threatens to go straight into October way too soon.
You may or may not choose to reply to my comments here, but in any event, I will not see it until after midnight, as my “day” of restless non-sleep begins about 1 a.m. as you can see for the Circadium Rhythm Times. The here being Mayberry.
Who cares?
Just apologize for the despicable attack you perpetrated on Sensetti and if he accepts it, we will call off the treatment. Simple as that. Or don’t.
If you have writer’s block, let me help you:
I (insert your name here) do hereby acknowledge that I was out of line and acted like a damn fool by disrespecting Sensetti and other members of the venerable tribe of males on this site. I am ashamed of myself and have brought shame to my gender as well. I sincerely apologize to anybody who may have been offended by my uncouth language and disrespectful attitude, especially Sensetti, I’m sorry, so, so sorry, Sensetti. Please forgive me.
Won’t. Done.
My former professor of writing at OU, Deborah Chester lived on a street called Rider’s Block. I think she thought it was funny at first, but I don’t think she stayed there long. I think that was after the Lucas Film contracts when she got back to what she really loved… the fantasy fiction. Not really dwarves, elves and magic, but close. I liked those best, Deb.
Now, with your permission, I will post a link to Walmart books where you could purchase one of her “how to” books and send a few dimes to Admin.
https://www.walmart.ca/en/ip/Fantasy-Fiction-Formula-Deborah-Chester-Paperback/PRD7K4VHGL0FZQE
Today, on a burning digital platform, I read a great article by an author with writer’s block. In the commentary was a humorous anecdote regarding squirrelmageddon and I thought about the squirrel outside my window this morning . I stood there, sipping my coffee, and realized my grass had grown so long that the little busybody was hopping through it like a tiny kangaroo.
When I mow my lawn later, I’ll think about words written by people I’ve never met. In truth, I too, am a ghost in the machine; taking comfort from a digital gang that I likely share more in common with than the handful of people in my own (three-dimensional) circle. Personally, I take meaning and comfort from that.
The other day, I watched a video of Hillary Clinton being tackled by Donald Trump. Although I didn’t comment, the video made me smile. I wondered how many people are really out there? The lurkers.
For those who do write, however, I thank you for your minds; and for being there.
The other night, I watched the documentary “A Gray State” (2017) on Netflix. I may post an essay about it sometime; or not. But the point is this: Before watching that film, I was SURE the subject of the documentary, David Crowley, succumbed to the dark powers because of his life’s work. I was right, but not even close to the way I had originally thought. I truly believed he was taken out by the establishment, but that film made me consider the possibility that Crowly became isolated, and insane, by staring at the dark instead of the light; death in lieu of life.
If I do write and post something comparing and contrasting my own paranoid hubris as opposed to the possibly of a cover-up by means of digital programming, I know there will be a cadre of commenters here who will provide their perspectives and opinions. And, by that very fact, I will better off than I was before; in one way or another.
Perhaps balance is necessary on a burning platform. We can contemplate a world where squirrels go to die all the while recalling how cute those little diligent busybodies outside our windows were.
Thanks FM. Enjoyed that
Uncola, there’s lots of lurkers. I got validation realizing I’m not a lone conspiracy nut when I discovered TBP a couple years ago. You’re a very good red piller. I don’t post because like EC, I’m wowed and cowed by all the great commenters/ artical writers on here. Much info, smarts, wisdom, advice, knowledge passes through this blog. Sometimes the choir needs talking to. They say you need to hear something at least 3 times to get it. I need 6, cause I’m retarded. Yall keep this edumicashun center going for me and the other retards that lurk. Thanks, Tree Mike
There’s a lot of that going around. Retardation that is. Hell, I can’t even hear my wife anymore unless she looks right at me and says “you need to listen to what I am about to say”. And then, depending on the top she’s wearing my eyes and mind will wander. Then I get in trouble and she has to point at her eyes and she gives me this whole exasperated look like I’m, you know – retarded.
Last time it happened I told her she should be happy that after twenty-some years I can still get that distracted by certain things. I thought that would piss her off but to my surprise, she reflected a bit and agreed.
On thinking about it retardation may have saved our marriage.
Thought so. Thanks TM. Yeah. I perused the articles for a year or two, before realizing the real action was down here beneath the surface, in the teeming underworld that is the comment section.
I felt like the scientist Robert Hooke discovering cells for first the time through the lens of a microscope: There was real dynamism there; amidst the flinging monkey poo.
Plus, the opportunity for immortality was too great. As Hardscrabble Farmer once aptly noted: “The internet is forever”.
Don’t let my insecurity become your crutch, Tarzan. You can write, just put one word after another. If that retarded Hollywood Rob can write, anybody can write.
Is it a full moon or something…
Hahaha
This thread is becoming hilarious!
Maggie, please, for all of your friends, just get back on your meds. There is a distinct possibility that you might start harming yourself.
Having just come through a rather mind-numbing experience with unexpected but dreaded surgery, I can empathize with you completely. But, my dear sir, you are too fine a writer to give in to that nasty little block. Crush it and get it out of the way.
And my old writing professor, Deb Chester, did indeed live on Rider’s Way which turned into Rider’s Block after she moved there, I think.
Fight the malaise, FM. You are too fine a soul to not share your insight with the world. You too, MM. And, by the way, I had some of the finest creamery ice cream with the most wonderful caramel fudge topping mailed to me in a box of beer.
It was an ice cream worthy of the sauce, my friend. Thank you so much.
https://order.marbleslab.com/menu/marble-slab-poplar-bluff/
Hope you see this, Maggie. It’s available via online ordering. (You too, JQ / Avalon).
Remember, the best one is Milk Chocolate Hot Fudge, not the Dark and not the Caramel,
although you could order a variety pack.
Again, in me youth, visiting a Sanders fountain bar, they’d offer a cream puff pastry shell,
sandwiched around a scoop of Strohs (yes, the same as the beer) vanilla ice cream, and then
ladled over with a generous helping of the Sanders Milk Chocolate Hot Fudge.
Thus, the infamous “Cream Puff Hot Fudge”… a dessert treat that will exceed expectations, get your toes twinkling, and your taste buds will shout: “Mmmmm…that funny lil’ dude from the mitten knows WTF he’s talking about.”
Trust me on this one.
Sanders is now owned by the Morley Candy Factory.
Get some of the above mentioned product, while you still can. You’ll be glad you did.
…and use the best quality vanilla ice cream you can buy.
Cheers.
Edit: Herr Stuck…you used to have a tent staked out in MI…surely you’ve had this experience, or no? Perhaps it would be worthwhile to ease your pain (and Mom’s) with a delectable treat as described, and to brighten your outlook, even if just for a little while my friend. All the best to you.)
All Toppings & Dips
thanks my friend…
If no one has anything to say — new, old, or otherwise — then why not shut down TBP?
I don’t have writer’s block. I still have plenty ideas for new articles. My God, new ideas are literally everywhere, if you just look for them.
I have Life’s Block. I’m tired of living. I do stuff for mom, and Ms Freud, and my kids, and my landlord. I’m tired of it all. Pretty much every evening for several months now I have one thought before I fall asleep; “it sure would be nice if I didn’t wake up in the morning”. So far every morning has been a disappointment. Then I make scrambled eggs or oatmeal. Maybe this phase will pass, maybe not, we shall see.
This post is NOT a ‘cry for help’ or some such nonsense. Don’t need it, don’t want it. When I have talked about my life here on TBP, I have always been open and truthful about it. That’s all this is … me being truthful about my being fed up with life and wanting out. NBD.
Hey Stuck – if you’re grateful for anything, maybe focus on that? That’s what keeps me sane whenever things become meaningless. Hang in there. This too shall pass.
“To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there’s the rub, for in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause.
The movie Open Your Eyes remade as Vanilla Sky was one extended version of the old joke that ended with “it’s the wrong key!”
In the movie, our hero ends up in a forever dream with the wrong chick. In the final scene, he is trying to alert the Life Extension folks that he’d like to wake up because this is not the ‘life’ he bargained for.
” For no man has the least thought about himself or life
when mind and body are both at rest in sleep.
For all we care, such sleep may last forever—
no desire about ourselves affects us,” – Lucretis
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep…
The best part of waking up is most definitely coffee in my cup.
And reading and making mirth with my comrades here.
“Humor is a prelude to faith and laughter is the beginning of prayer.” from the author of the Serenity Prayer
And I tell myself my mission here must not be over, and there waits for me a purpose unknown. Or else I might just seek out to make quietus with the bare bodkin and shuffle off.
Nope, I look forward to seeing my white witch inamorata in December. And watch my 3 year old granddaughter blossom yet more beautiful.
Well, hell! Don’t worry, relief is on the way, any day now…….
You’re right Stucky.
I have been thinking about an idea for a article about that speech Obummer gave last week in Illinois.
So maybe I will give it a spin and see what happens..
Read your bit and do feel yer pain as lately everyday is ground hog day in these parts… maybe skip the scrambled eggs and have a beer. It doesn’t wonders for straightening out crooked days….
Hey that would be a great Country song…
Yours in Odin,
RiNS
Stucky- This too shall pass. hang in there. I have been gone all day, late into the party(?) and everyone is about as exciting as a plate of cold grits. WTF?
I feel sure that some sort of doom is soon to occur, maybe even your long awaited CW2. That would keep you guys blubbering for eons.
Meh, I leave for a resort tomorrow, fancy ass food and maybe a alcoholic beverage….. or two. For a moment I thought maybe this display of moaners was because El Dump had disappointed the faithful…….Nah. 🙂
Stucky,
I have always appreciated your candor and honesty.
Some days I feel helpless, hopeless and beaten down, such is the life of those awakened souls waging a daily battle against ignorance and the attrition that comes with living in this “civilized” consumer driven rat race CULTure.
You are not alone, NEVER!!!
If provides the opportunity find a quiet place out in nature away from it all and focus on nothing.
“Some days I feel helpless, hopeless and beaten down, such is the life of those awakened souls waging a daily battle against ignorance and the attrition that comes with living in this “civilized” consumer driven rat race CULTure.”
You poor bastard. It must be really tough being so woke but having your salary paid by the taxes of your ignorant neighbors.
Talk about beating a dead horse
Bwahahaha
Can always count on RDawg to try and put me in my place
Hahahaha
I bow to your incredible talents and expertise and ego that which has provided you your pedestal to look down upon us all.
With knowledge comes weight on ones shoulders,
I do not hate the ignorant
Now… the willfully ignorant….perhaps but then I remember we are all on our own journies and started in different places…
Not all; just you. You who has such contempt for those that pay your way.
Bwahahahaha. Lol.
And whatever other juvenile shit that passes for argument.
RDawg
Curious, what being woke has to do with my income?
Is that what you have in your file as something that you feel shines a negative light on my points above to Stuck, who I was speaking to in an attempt to relate and express similar thoughts and feelings so as to give encouragement?
Fuck off RDawg.
Me thinks, your just an old baby Boomer who has many regrets in life and tries to displace it and project it on to the younger Generations.
Poor Rdawg!!! It’ll be okay. Death awaits us all.
“An old baby Boomer” Great slam! Rdawg is clawing at his diaper looking for a clever comeback.
Vulture- For some reason I am thinking RatDawg is somewhere around 50, but still possible he is in a diaper. Hell, a few more years and you and I will be sporting a Depends.
That’s the beauty of the remark, Boomers refers to a so-called baby boom after the war. Along the way, the ‘baby’ was dropped and we became Boomers. Plato resurrects that long-buried word to slam Fido. I was mildly amused.
It reminds me why Trump is so persistent on insulting people, he has a team of researchers digging up dirt on everybody. Then he tosses these bombs on the unsuspecting and soon the media and the whole world knows of that person’s cheating, perversion, thievery or depravity and Trump looks better by comparison.
OTOH Dawg could have been clawing at his diaper looking for a snack.
Plato
Dawg can’t help it. He’s an Engineer…
That explains his inferiority complex.
Sep 11, 1976 Rdawg gets his first slide rule, promtly realizes he’s no Ron Jeremy
Okay even dawg is gonna have to admit to that being a funny…
Maggie and all of his aliases, and they are legion, is actually quite an undertaking. While I doubt that he has had any real education, and certainly none it writing, or communications, or for that matter AWACS, it does take quite a bit of work to keep all of these characters straight. And it is doubly difficult when one takes into account that he and this menagerie of whack jobs all live inside one head in his mom’s basement in Hoboken. Imagine his excitement when he realized that he could have any name that he wanted, when ever he wanted. He could be batman one day, and cat woman the next. His little flights of fantasy would no longer know any bounds. He could be a man one day and a woman the next. Why even limit himself, he can have lengthy conversations between his characters and nobody would know. He could have fake operations in cities that he never visited. He could fly on gossamer wings over the land pooping on all below with impunity. He could disrupt everyone’s fun and make them doubt their own value and who could find him? Who would care enough.
All of that effort for what end? He learns nothing. He contributes nothing of value. His is a hollow existence in dark places where he cries out for succor but none is given.
“Sep 11, 1976 Rdawg gets his first slide rule, promtly realizes he’s no Ron Jeremy”
Well to be fair I was only seven years old at the time.
Shit there’s bulldykes with a bigger schlong that that. I hope the little fella got a little bit bigger in the years after.
“Shit there’s bulldykes with a bigger schlong that that.”
You would know, having both anal and oral experience with plenty of schlongs.
“That explains his inferiority complex.”
Those that can, do. Those that can’t, teach.
Ya ya, heard it before but don’t mean it’s accurate…
Those that can, do what?
I’m of the belief we are each born with certain talents, trick in life is to learn what yours are,
I have a knack to take complex shit and break it down to laymens terms and over the years I’ve developed a bit of wit which helps to teach this Millenial GEN and still keep up with the Big Dogs….
I can and do inspire all the time. One of the joys of the profession, priceless in my book.
Stucky, I can somewhat relate. I’m pulling the wagon and it has a lot of intermittently ungrateful fuckers in it. And by that I mean family. I feel like going Unabomber. Not so much the bombing part, but the living alone in a cabin part. And the part about whacking off to old pictures from Victoria Slims ads.
I will see you again soon, I hope. Maybe in an email connection.
Hang in there Stucky… Chip
I used to enjoy writing and to a certain extent still do, but nearly all of it is strictly personal. Still write for the one outlet that pays me to do so, sometimes comment here out of respect for our host and many fine commentators, but the only verbal projects that truly interest me now are haiku (over 2500 now) and the oral history I’m doing for my posterity.
As stated by some on this thread, it’s pretty much all been said with respect to where it appears things are headed up your way and elsewhere, and at 72, I know full well where they’re headed for me; just a question of when.
Down here where I live, sad to say we’ve decided to fence in the property due to some outdoor petty thefts likely by folks known to our dogs. A financial crisis, the umpteenth, is a likely causal factor, but even so…
I wish all of you the very best of luck, just as I do to my posterity, particularly my grandchildren who live next door, but I wish I could offer them (and all of you) greater hope with a degree of optimism I just don’t possess.
I don’t always enjoy the comments here on the Burning Platform, but when I do, they are often Montrefrio’s; who I envision as appearing like this:
Go suck an egg, we don’t enjoy your comments either.
Thanks! Actually, I have white hair, no mustache and am very Irish-looking, no surprise, given that I’m Irish. And of course even better looking than the gent in the photo, heh heh. Got the raising the glass part right though! And while I like a good rum, the bottle is usually coñac, as we spell it down here. It’s a local brand (Reserva de San Juan, aged) and can hold its own with better-known brands. And at U$D 6.50 a bottle, I’d bet you’d like it too!
You picture Montrefrio as a porn star?
Uncanny is one of the XXX-Men
I had no idea that was a pornstar! How did you know? ?
I thought Everyone knows who Ron Jeremy Is? Guy with the long shlong! Hahaha
Hey…Snap Out of It. You bunch of whinny bastards. There is tons of stuff to learn. There is tons of stuff to write about. There are tons of minds that need changing.
Get off your sorry ass and start doing something to make things better. You could start by watching Jordon Peterson bang his head against Sam Harris. That’s fun. That should get your creative juices running.
You’re right, Hollywood Rob and you don’t serve the down-votes. Albert J. Nock addressed this long ago when he wrote about one of the Biblical prophets that became discouraged and fled to the desert where God found him and told him that “there is a Remnant there that you know nothing about. They are obscure, unorganized, inarticulate, each one rubbing along as best he can. They need to be encouraged and braced up because when everything has gone completely to the dogs, they are the ones who will come back and build up a new society; and meanwhile, your preaching will reassure them and keep them hanging on. Your job is to take care of the Remnant.”
http://www.remnantnewspaper.com/isaiah_prt.htm
Discouraged is the wrong word, he became fearful of the state threats. Jezebel threatened to do to him as he’d done to the prophets of Baal. I’m not sure that he was directed to lead the remnant that was rubbing along as best they could. The remnant is mentioned because Elijah claims he has sought refuge in a cave because he alone is left. I wonder where Pastor Stuck is?
Elijah vs Jezebel is one of the MAJOR turning points …. perhaps THE major turning point in Jewish history.
What was at stake? At the time, most of Israel was worshiping other Gods. So this was a battle between Israel’s monotheism vs Jezebel’s polytheism. Unfortunately, Jezebel lost.
Why say “unfortunately” about this HARLOT HEATHEN WHORE?? Well …. because she wasn’t. The winners write history … and Bible stories. Painting her in the most terrible light possible is what the old Joo writers did back then.
[img
[/img]
She was stunning in appearance. Well educated. She was tolerant regarding the beliefs of others. She was sophisticated. Lived in splendor. Built things. Created things. She and her people prospered.
[img
[/img]
The Phoenicians were amazing ancient seafarers having reached Britain, navigated around the southern edge of Africa, and some believe they even made it to the New World thousands of years before Columbus. Jezebel’s island city of Tyre (above) was arguably one the most stunning cities in the world. Jezebel, Tyre, Phoenicia was an advanced Civilization.
Yet, 99.99% of what modern people know about Jezebel is the lie that she was a fucken whore. What a goddamned tragedy.
[img
[/img]
Elijah wore shitty animal skins. Lived in the desert, didn’t bathe much, so he probably stunk to high heaven. Didn’t do shit. Believes that God speaks to him. Goes out and shits on everyone who doesn’t believe his bullshit , condemns and curses them, even his fellow Joos. A pleasant fellow to be around. Jewish “civilization” consisted mostly of farmers, fishers, and shitloads of priests and prophets condemning everyone, and lording over the goys that they weren’t “chosen” by God.
If you could go back in time …. in which place would you want to live? Who would you identify with? A beautiful sophisticated woman with a “live and let live” attitude … or, a stinky old prick who rags on you all day and then tries to kill you?
Well, sorry. That’s what you get when you ask “I wonder where Pastor Stuck is?”.
That was truly excellent Stucky, a real history lesson in a few paragraphs.
Thank yeeeew!
There’s a LOT more I could say. Think about the “what ifs”. Had Jezebel won, would monotheism have died in Israel? If so, would Judaism’s children — Christianity and Islam — come into existence? Wow! How different the world would be today ….
Actually, such ideas are on my list of “future articles” … a list of about 10 items. A more detailed explanation of the actual exciting conflict between Phoenicia and Judaism would be of interest to a few folks, loathed by a few, and would almost surely result in a decent shitstorm …. especially with that GCP dude, and other traditionalists. All I need is motivation, which has been exceedingly difficult since dad died.
We need your enlightenment!!!!!!!!!!
Morans abound.
Hi, Hollywood.
Sound great…just do it. Looking forward to some of what could be your finest article yet.
Some say that jezebellian spirit is the Whore of Babylon riding the dragon, wearing sparkling jewels and fornicating with the kings of the earth:
Or not.
Is that a Kardashian? Jezebel was said to rule over her hubs, Bruce Jenner, oh wait, Ahab.
Remember that Christmas card from five years ago? Bruce was trapped in his vessel. What did Big Mother know and when did she know it?
http://www.illuminatiagenda.com/shameless-illuminati-symbolism-in-2013-kardashian-family-christmas-card/
I have never expected the churchy version of bible teaching from you, I want your damn educated opinion. If I wanted churchy, I’d call on Grace Country Pastor. Thank you very much for the compare and contrast exposition. Jezebel the beautiful is Tinseltown with its permissive lifestyle. Turning point indeed. That’s why Elijah said he was the last one standing against an army of perverts and child molesters. Oh, but they conquered the world, I guess that’s worth something.
You sell Elijah short. What about the dead kid, the jars of oil, stopping a river, making a grand exit on a flaming chariot? Many Sunday school teachers claim he outran the king’s chariot – nothing of the sort – he ran before it announcing the king. John the Baptist does the same when he announces the Christ.
EC- I think if you look at it in the right way, it was at that time that da joos hijacked all those disgusting but profitable ventures for themselves which continues unto this day. Actually they didn’t like the competition in Elijah’s day and the best way to nose her out was to tag her with a bad rep.
I never pegged you for a feminist. Stuck, yes but you? Can’t you see all those bad women in the stories? They make Hillary seem tame.
Show me the dead kid. Show me the jars of oil. Show me the stopped river. How many people actually saw the flaming chariot …. and were they drunk?
Crickets to it all, naturally. One takes these things by “faith”.
Of course, one should be aware that the same people who have a motive to besmirch Jezebel as much as possible, also have a motive to tell fantastical stories about Elijah. Who can know truth from myth?
But, what CAN be known, and is known, via archaeology and physical artifacts and records of writings from other peoples (without an ax to grind), is the magnificent splendor of Phoenicia, and their contributions — like the alphabet — to humanity.
Aw shucks there Maggie, will you never give it up?
You complained about Maggie, yet you embark on a tiresome crusade that’s been done with more class by Billy -“everybody I hate is a sockpuppet” – why not go back to ZH where they like that sort of dumb shit?
When I was teaching Sunday School, I used to dread the Elijah and the Prophets of Baal lessons, especially when they ended with Elijah sneaking off into the wilderness in a manic state. Really, ‘lijah? You defeat all these priests of Jezzy’s in a spectacular spectacle of spectacular fire and brimstone and you have to sneak off and let the ravens feed you?
And we already talked about Elisha and those 42 bears.
Cray cray blend of myth and legend.
I think I told you about the pastor’s wife bringing bread and ham to the class the day we taught the 3 to 5 year old class about the ravens feeding Elijah. I laughed and told her that I was fairly sure that the ravens did not bring Elijah any ham.
Maggie, the bible (and One Hundred Years of Solitude) is written in a way that you have to fill in the blanks. When a movie cuts to a new scene, you fill in the missing facts. In this case, the story of Elijah dispatching the heathens is one scene and the next scene is Jezzie the beauteous threatening to kill him. She had the power of the state behind her. Tell me how brave you would be when (if) Trump began to call for your head. Sunday school teaches you the stories but when you grow up, you have to reason that the stork did not bring you to your house.
The Joos should have picked the whore. Sundays would now be way moar fun.
Hi, sorry to butt in but how do i post an article ?
E-mail it to the administrator @ [email protected]
Make sure it’s full of ennui or a general sense of foreboding.
How about a millenial weltanschauung?
I don’t know if that picture you posted with the title is where you live but if it is, I would always be outside, at least as much as possible. Forget about writing. That is beautiful. Like it is here today.
Days like that are rare in this area. So we cherish them and find excuses to be outside. 78 degrees, bright blue sky, gentle breeze and low humidity.
This place encouraged me to write and I am grateful because it helps clear my head of thoughts that I can’t share with most of my friends and family.
This place is a hangout for people who are just not quite understood by anyone else. Even if we don’t agree on some things, there us much more that we do.
Fall is a lovely time of year and much too short. Enjoy it. It’s what I plan to do.
The need to ‘give it a rest’ is quite natural for writers. Mark Twain said that he often needed down-time as a writer, and that despite his grave doubts about it, the ‘well’ would always eventually ‘refill’ for him.
The writers who cannot have any down-time, because they get paid to write (think: journalists and columnists), eventually all become mere bloviators.
”…Writing is not necessarily something to be ashamed of, but do it in private and wash your hands afterwards…” — Robert A. Heinlein
I must have missed it but what the hell happened to Maggie? She seems to have lost her grip.
I missed it too; at some point not too long ago she decided everyone but a select few are out to get her, and she’s been lashing out in a blind rage ever since.
Hollywood Rob appears to be especially hated, although it’s hard to tell why.
Being a good guy and all, I’ve been trying to draw her fire.
Usually Mags blames me for everything, glad to see someone else getting fired upon. My ass looks like hamburger meat from a certain member of the community (Maggie) chewing upon it. Hi Maggie!!
You think I’m crazy? You want to shut up the voice of TBP fighting the good fight for freedom of speech? You should get on your knees and pray Admin doesn’t listen to Stucky and shut down this place ’cause you heathens have no respect for a former Red Rope who flew an AWAKs over Saudi Arabia intercepting valuable info that saved the ME from WW3. Yes, It was me, or it was I, who knows, certainly not that unlovable oaf Holly Wood (not you Holly O, we sisters have got to stick together and keep these freedom haters in line). I skinned two bunnies in a rage just now, just to show you – pics coming – what i will do to anybody who crosses me. I would prefer fortune to take care of all of you tiny peckers, driving mini daggers into your balls, but alas, a woman’s got to do it all herself. I could have castrated that male nurse after he fucked up, if I could have gathered strength from my rage, I would have grabbed him by the balls and thrown him across the room, you have no idea the strength women can have. Did I tell you of the time I fought off two cops? I’m proud of you Doug, little fish, I feel like I gave you birth back in Mayberry. My what a writer you turned out to be, When I get out to your neck of the woods, but when will that be? I’m confined by this wound like Paul, my stigmata giving me no strength, and neither do my erstwhile internet friends who want to shut me up in professional grade duck tape. Shut me up and I will speak through my vagina even like that show The Vagina Monologues, huh, that would be a first for TBP, how about it Admin, care to give a Vajajay posting rights? I have to go have dinner now. I will be back after midnight. MC, give me a reply, don’t let the bastards win with the silent treatment. We really must go on a hitchhiking tour of the country someday.
“You think I’m crazy?” Different than before, that’s for sure.
“You want to shut up the voice of TBP fighting the good fight for freedom of speech?” Nope. Nobody has said that. People are exasperated with your tirades, but I haven’t seen any calls to curtail free speech.
“You should get on your knees and pray Admin doesn’t listen to Stucky and shut down this place ’cause you heathens have no respect for a former Red Rope who flew an AWAKs over Saudi Arabia intercepting valuable info that saved the ME from WW3. ” I always thought it was AWACS, but in any case, you didn’t fly anything and were just doing your fucking job, I presume. If Admin shuts this place down it will be sad, but life goes on.
“Yes, It was me, or it was I, who knows, certainly not that unlovable oaf Holly Wood (not you Holly O, we sisters have got to stick together and keep these freedom haters in line)” Uh, it was you what? Saved the ME from WW3? Doubtful.
“I skinned two bunnies in a rage just now, just to show you – pics coming – what i will do to anybody who crosses me.” Ooh. Shades of Fatal Attraction.
Ah hell, the rest is just stream-of-consciousness rage and spittle flying.
I would like to see speaking through vagina though. I bet that’s something else.
Would it still be called halitosis?
I don’t see why not.
I rest my case Mags, I have been out of the mix all day and I still catch a 300 word thrashing.
you have more sense than that
Well speaking out of your twat would be better than speaking out of your ass which is what you have been doing.
idiots
Hello bl
Hey, Bea, I think that Idiots remark was directed at you, notice she added -” Hi, Bea”
You whinnyass sad sack yuppie cunts better wake the fuck up…nobody feels your pain…nobody cares….shut the fuck up and shove that boulder up the hill.
Uncanned, is this another porn star?
No. That was just Dennis “waiting in moderation”.
Dennis is not a pussy grabber. That’s his lunch.
…..
Murderers and pussy. Good grief . Meatball is right.
Stucky you need to get back to your masterbating routine. Write about the first time you jerked off. That should be interesting.
As for me out here on the road I have new experiences everyday and always with different types of people. One of the good things about truck driving. ( Sometimes not so good ) In January I will have my truck paid off. 3400 dollar a month truck payment for the last 3 1/2 years has just about kicked my butt .Good tax breaks though . Get to write alot off.
Seriously , all of you can find things to write about . How about Flat Earth. You do realize everything you have be told about the universe is a lie. Write about the firmament. Genesis 1 : 6-9-14-20. Start here and then think about this ” The world ( earth ) is established so that it can not be moved” ps 93 : 1 or ” the world is firmly established so that it shall not be moved ” ps 96:10 or ” you laid the foundations of the earth so that it should not be moved forever “ps 104:5. Many more verses through out the Bible says the earth is Flat ,sets on pillars and does not move. Think about that. Somebody is lying .” Let God be true and every man a liar ” Romans 3:4
One more thing , Maggie has plenty to write about. Seems to be much about nothing that’s important in my life but I do find her post interesting. Kinda like Hard farmer . So copy them.
Oh for god’s sake Maggie/BB/BL/Mary Christine/… and you are definitely over the cliff, please stop. You flooding the boards with comments that add nothing to the conversation makes it hard to have a serious discussion. If you actually take on the personalities of your many and varied personas, then you really do have a problem that needs medical attention. If you just do it to troll here, then it is just sad as no one is fooled anymore. All it does is clog up the airwaves with drool.
Oh, shit, Hollywood is pulling a Maggie Iravani. Wants everybody to shut up and quit clogging his airwaves. Guess what, moran, this blog is not broadcast in the airwaves.
Let’s see, which of your names should I address with a response. Oh well, I guess I could use Maggie, it’s just as good as any other. But I am not asking you to shut up. I never asked for you to shut up. I asked for you to stop having conversations with yourself and your alter egos. The more of them that you create, the harder it is to keep track. Of course, if one cares to, one can track your witty word-isms through the various nom de plumes which you offer up in a vain effort to make it look like you are part of a conversation. You are not part of a conversation. You are free to have that conversation as long as admin permits it. It is his blog and he has ultimate control. I just want you to understand that I find it tiring and many others who are trying to make a contribution and learn something are finding it tiring as well.
Oh and while I am sure that your AWACs paper pushing training didn’t provide you with any knowledge of how the internet actually works, it is almost guaranteed that some portion of your mindless rambling does indeed travel over airwaves.
Keep on sucking your dick. Someone is soon going to be very impressed with your athletic prowess.
We had another guy here – Billy – who loved to push a similar sock-puppet theory. So you think several people are all Maggie talking to herself in addition to her own byline? Wow. As a word-sleuth, you suck, no wonder Trump hasn’t picked you to figure out who the anon op-ed writer is.
Sure Maggie. Keep on going. At least it’s good for comment count. Not all that good for your sanity, but that’s not really my concern.
Dead Dread
The light in the morning is coming in later and the dark of the evening is beginning earlier and all I feel is dead dread..
The squirrels tails are a mighty white already and I feel it the bold colder than Hell winter is soon setting in ontop of us with a gale of pale ails for us all…
The bitterness of cold steel biting at us from everywhere when we are outside this dark deadly winter and we will have a hard time just catching a single breath for the air is way to cold to be even let in a whisper of it inside of us….
I have no fear but just dead in your tracks dread knowing I am already half dead from the insanity of our world that when young was wonderment and now has become abhorrent…
Why do I feel this way, why am I writing….
All I know is that God as my witness which he knows of everything of who I am….
I am I am yours to use in this time of deathly dread….
For I am not afraid of what you ask of me to do as long as I carry it out to support your battle against the evil ones and may Your love win God each dreadful dead day…
Amen…
AL ,there you go .Much about nothing but I dig it . Pad yourself on the head.
Al(coholic) should have his head padded. Since when are you the literary connoisseur, BB?
Francis, If I were writing a article today it would be about the truly awesome things I have at my fingertips today as opposed to back in the day. For example, my kids are in Ireland, Scotland, England and Italy this week on a vacation. Not like the BIG vacation of their life, just vacation. We were lucky to go to Florida or ride the train out west but now you just jet to Europe. Anyways, there is this thing called WhatsApp and I can talk to them WHERE EVER for free on the cell phone.For some reason they keep telling me how many steps their FitBit watch says they have taken (?). They send videos and photos and we could video chat if so inclined. Pretty nice for free!
When my brother was in the navy, it cost a weeks pay for him to call home way back then from across the Big Pond. Man, things are sure changing and I’m hoping for the better. It’s a crazy world full of surprise and wonder.
BL , your getting hang of it but you could do better.Now get back to writing.
Thanks beebs, I have always said that I’m just a garden variety commenter not a writer. If I put my mind to it I rectum I could pen a decent article or two but I prefer the role of shit-stirrer ’round these parts.
I can surely empathize on the pain you felt from those damn kidney stones. I went through that back in the 90’s and it’s truly a bitch! Some say much worse than child birth and I believe it.
Why do folks compare dread pain to giving birth? Why not try – a hot knife through the jugular or a ten minute brain freeze or a swift kick to the nutty buddies or a bee sting in the left nostril or – well you figure it out. Just stop trying to compare manly pain to birthing babies, men never do that so it’s a false comparison.
Thanks Frank, great writing that I have been missing. I hope Buzzard kicks your butt. yuck yuck
Edit won’t go through. Last Rumi quote should be:
“Don’t wait any longer. Dive in the ocean, leave and let the sea be you.”
Drud tries to cheer folks up with a suggestion that you kill yourself. Nice.
Ah, EC (DV?), your panties in particular seem to be in a bit of a wad today, but to no avail.
The song is, first and foremost, haunting and beautiful in its construction and it is about many things. One of them is, not suicide, but change, the discovery of a new self. If that means killing the old one, and it does, then so fucking be it.
Just keep swimming.
So solly. I didn’t listen to the song, I read the last quote and promptly misread it. Panties adjusted.
Francis, it would be rather funny if a short piece written by a guy who says he can’t think of anything to write about would get one of the highest comment counts in TBP history. It could happen…..
Yeah. I wish I could get writer’s block like that
Writer’s block envy, Unendowed
Well to be fair, Maggie and her aliases seem to account for roughly 25% of the comments but the count is the count and this one is epic. What was it about???oh yeah – writers block.
Half those comments were yours, hun.
OK I admit it, and I apologize. I made the whole thing up because I thought it was funny. I have to admit that even I can’t remember all of the names that I used over the years but it doesn’t matter. You all fell for it and it was funny for a while. Now all I can say is that I am truly sorry and I won’t do it any more.
.
Can’t count either sweetie. You need to count all of your nom de plumes. Not just the ones with your tyranny name.
Well shit, Maggie’s mask done fell off like the proverbial bra at the beach. Three times already, she has posted as Maggie and then used Holly R’s moniker to berate herself hoping somebody would defend her lost honor. The bra came off, the glorious tits unfurled. Maggie is Hollywood Rob. She is plumb loco producing her own flames. This tops anything Iravani ever tried. Talk about a talking Vajajay.
LOL. When I logged in after work and saw the comment count I thought “How the fuck did the comment count get so high?”
It wasn’t that good of a piece from my perspective. I almost didn’t hit the submit button.
I think maybe you guys need to get jobs. 🙂
BTW – if Stucky reads this he needs to expand on his thoughts (and write an article) regarding the Phonecians. Now, THAT was interesting.
Lol!! Some people need their underwear adjusted. I think you all just need to chill out on the patio/deck with and adult beverage of choice and listen to some music. Unless you are battening down the hatches or running for your lives from Flo. Summer is almost over. Enjoy it.
Meatball ,you never answered my questions about the earth being flat. The earth is not round flying through space at a Godzillion miles an hour. If it is prove it .
Stucky ,I see you are up and running again.Still thinking about the first time you jerked off got you excited so you started talking about pagan whores in the Bible. That’s a start. Now tell us about your thoughts on Flat Earth..
Well Maggie I just don’t know. What do you think about the earth being flat? After all, you have driven your truck all over it so you must have some useful insight.
https://www.livescience.com/24310-flat-earth-belief.html
there are clues everywhere
Using Mathematics splain the orbits of planets
Some threads be like
But seriously, we have much for which to be grateful. It’s the little things.
I must say, this is one of the weirdest threads I have seen since I began paying attention to the comments.
My favorite parts were when Stucky said:
I mean, that’s the kind of shit you don’t read on every blog.
Also, when Maggie Iravani asked:
Hang in there TBP sister-twin, you haven’t ridden one of these to 300 yet, have you?
This one probably won’t go to 300. I’m getting ready to show how Botz work on these platforms. It’s going to scare a few botz here.
200. I win
I should have been watching you. Sneaky sneaky white boy.
EC would have the talent to play several different characters here. I can absolutely believe it possible. With Trump Derangement Syndrome now reaching never before attained peaks, the idea that EC would pretend to be a bunch of different people seems entirely plausible. Desperate times call for desperate trolling measures.
MAGA, baby! Build the Wall.
That’s not possible. The claim that Maggie is BB, Rdawg, BL and EC is preposterous enough. And yet Maggooey managed to dopple Hollywood Rodent. Her kid must be really smart. But then coming from a mom who flew the AWAX, it’s little wonder.
Doppling is quite a weapon. It would be a shame if anyone would use it against you in the near future.
A real fucking shame.
And the boy is a fucking rocket scientist now with the degree from Missouri Science and Tech to prove it.
He says TBP is plagued with bad botz. The kind people up in DC worry about.
He suggests doing what I’ve been doing. Drawing out the bad botz from the money-grubbing botz.
He’s on his way back here now. Bringing Mom a very special bot tool from Normal Me. Who has a special line bringing data to her house. Because she was a red rope too.
I used to drink too much vodka too.
I am going to do a little bot work on your fine essay thread FM. Hopefully, the exercise will inspire some creative energy and help you write another.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IhtAB4vDGoE
If you respond to this comment, you are going to be targeted by my “Botz” program my son is bringing from DC. Your presence here on this blog grants me permission to track you and call out all personal data it can find on you. And I can use that information or publish it.
Welcome to the Interwebs.
?
I will email you an explanation. Briefly, because you know how powerful government agencies act when they are able to alter the truth as we see it, I will share here.
My son received a very high clearance for some internships he did in DC a couple years ago. He didn’t like the political intrigue of the agency he worked, but he did like playing with the toys.
He’s been in Maryland visiting and helping them with summer schedules while Nick and I get our hands around this latest crisis. He got online at the old office complex and took a look at my laptop and all the cooties I’ve gotten from TBP. He really thinks this site has a problem and told me he will clean it up on my laptop or I will only be able to access from the library.
He’s a brat. But he wants me to try and bait the botz. If that makes sense. It is how they minimized your expert witness, my friend in NS who had a front row seat to hell. The people who wanted you to shut up attacked you, isolated you and tore out your heart while you watched friends and family mourn the loss of people whose lives you are sure could have been saved if only. And they consume your heart while your old friends and comrades watch in sideways glances, hoping someone stops it soon.
So, RiNS… we won’t get quite that melodramatic when we tell your story, but you see what I mean about really packing the emotion in even if nothing else will fit?
So if I ask a question about Ches MacDonald and Trevor Eagles would the botz know who I am talking about?
Gee, I would have thought there would have been a couple of replies I could get to work on already.