Farting Balloons

Time for a little regression back to the good ol’ days of childhood (yet again). See, not only are The Wife and I going through re-modeling madness with our kitchen (No, it’s not done yet!), but we have been doing double duty with child care for the two grandsons while Mom, our daughter, has had to work out of town for three weeks.

What’s cool however, is Branden, the oldest, is quite the budding young artist, and for a nine year old, has very good eye/hand coordination (the ability to draw what one sees).  In the above drawing of farting balloons, he did the one on top, and I did the one below, along with some of my usual scribbling.  Farting balloons?  He’s nine, I’m sixty-five; some things never get old.  The rest of the drawings below are his.

Now, only a nine year old would come up with farting balloons.  Too much Pokemon I guess.  But it got me to thinkin’.  With America in the middle of  Presidential Election Mania, it sure seems like there’s a lot of candidates out there, blowing all manor of bull-shit out their asses.  Kinda like farting balloons.

One of them, and I don’t wanna get too political on this basically psychedelic humour blog (but if he’s elected instead of Obama we’re screwed) has been cutting loose with a shit-load of verbal flatulence.  He’s been changing his positions quicker than young lovers in heat.  All I can figure is that: a), he’s lying , b) he has Alzheimer’s, c) he has no moral character whatsoever, or d) all of the above.  Choose wisely America.

Penis Envy

I love that term.  In Freudian psychoanalysis, it’s the point in psycho sexual development, when a girl realizes she does not have a penis; the defining moment in the development of gender and sexual identity in women.  In common usage, it’s more like, “She probably wishes she had a dick.”

Well, I wouldn’t wanna wish that on anybody.  I’m tired of having a penis, and would gladly turn mine in for less responsibility and more freedom.  Don’t get me wrong, a fully functioning penis sure comes in handy while on a long drive, or when camping.  You can just pull off to the side of the road and take a wizz, or just pee where ever you’re standing when out in nature.

Thing is, it sure seems like folks with penises are in control these days.  And some of them especially wanna control  those without one.  Male energy is driving the world ape-shit.  Ever wonder what things would be like if there was more  female energy in charge?  Sarah Palin doesn’t count.

Cialis

First there was Viagra, now its Cialis for erectile dysfunction.  I’d never heard of erectile dysfunction before, until I learned about it on TV.  At first, it sounded like they was talkin’ bout Reptile Dysfunction, and I thought to myself, “My Lizard is doing just fine thank you.”  Why on earth would I need a pill to make him (Peter-o-soar-us) any happier?

Another flash:  When I first heard the name Cialis, I immediately thought of the Jefferson Airplane song White Rabbit:  “Go, See  Alice,  when she’s ten feet tall”.  Now before ya start thinkin’ ol’ Hansi sure damaged a lot of chromosomes during  the sixties, think about it.  Both have to do with substances that magically make things grow larger; be it Alice or Peter.

Well, it seems like there’s a plague raging, with legions of old farts who just can’t raise rise to the occasion.  Guys (and their significant others), who haven’t seen a Woodie, Stiffy, or Hard-one in a long (pun intended) while.  But thank God, and the pharmaceutical industry, there’s now a pill for everything.

I really don’t want to go on a rant about Big Pharma, and how most of the shit they’re now pushing on us has more side-effects than benefits.   But they do come up with some pretty far-out commercials; especially for Cialis.  Gotta luv them middle aged couples, who get that sparkle in their eyes while doing the laundry or outside gardening, who rather than just doin’ it were they are, go out to dinner , a concert, and Bubua is still ready to go three hours latter.  What a guy; what a pill!

I especially love the scenes of the couples on a dock overlooking a lake, sitting in separate bathtubs.  I can see doin’ it in a hot-tub, but separate tubs? Must be a metaphor for something way beyond my comprehension.  What is really crazy, and this will truly blow your mind, is that here in America  (Jesus’ favorite country), there are those among us who wanna control contraception for women (the pill), while having no qualms about making available a pill that enables men to fuck their brains out.   Go figure.

Cell Phones

You may find this hard to believe, especially from such a high-tech guy such as myself, who has two blogs and freely downloads music on a P2P file sharing system, but I don’t own a cell phone.  Nope, don’t have one.  Don’t feel the need.

Cell phones were cool when I was out in the field fighting crime in Probationland.  Damn, if shit started going down, I wanted to be able to call somebody, and call em fast!  But now, in retirement, a cell phone seems more like electronic monitoring, than any thing else.  I don’t want people calling me, Tweeting me, or sending be a text.  [ I’m still a ‘text’ virgin]. Then there’s FaceBook.  Never done that either.  Way too much like posting your own ‘rap-sheet’ of prior arrests, with confessions to match.

I guess I don’t want people to know what I’m doing, except of course when I’m blogging, and then the spigot is on full blast.  Hope ya get a blast outta this one.  I’m not telling.

Airing Out My Mind

I love blogging cause it allows me to ramble on in an incoherent manor, with out someone yelling, “shut the fuck up” [or at least I don’t have to hear em].  I even get to use the F-word, but only judiciously and for literary effect.  Cleans out the mind to write stuff down that isn’t on a ‘to-do’ list.  So like a powerful laxative,  I’m almost cleansed of all the shit that’s been going on in my mind.

And what better way than to look at some pictures which are pretend.  When I was a child, I loved all things that had to do with Space (The Final Frontier).  I even tried to make my own space suits, and imagined what it would be like living on another planet.  Sometimes I still wish I was living on another planet, even now.

Energy

I sure wish I had more energy.  I got solar panels on my roof, but my personal tank is empty.  That’s because I’ve been exposed to too much energy.  Construction guys at the house everyday at 7:00 a.m.  Saws, drills and hammering going on full blast within fifteen minutes of their arrival.  Too much energy in the house for me.  Kinda like sitting in a dentists chair with the volume turned up to ten; definitely nerve-racking.

I think I need an energy policy.  God knows the country has one:  use everything up before we run out.  Maybe I’m a conservative, cause I sure think we need to conserve more energy.  I’m starting with myself, by not expending any new energy on drawing, but rather (carefully) digging stuff out of the Archives, and re-cycling it.  Drawing this crap don’t come easy, it’s hard work, with all this spontaneous stuff,  great effort has to go into each piece in order for it to come out just right.  It took me all day waiting for this vision to occur.

Even More

My last post was about More.  A fairly spaced-out frolic with words and meanings.  So in the spirit of  “if a little is good, a lot has got to be better,”  I’m posting even more metaphysical rants with illustrations  to match (more or less).

Living a simple life, can be a pleasant way to be.  It’s not hard or difficult.  It’s simple!  Just cut loose all the bullshit you really don’t need, and enjoy the things you have.  That may be cool if you’ve accumulated a lifetimes worth of crap, and are more than glad to part with most of it (like in a dumpster).  But if you’re forced to live simply, that may be another thing altogether.

I wonder if this guy in the Albrecht Durer woodcut I copied, is expecting more or is satisfied with what he has, which is apparently nothing.  Is he waiting to get something, or is he blowing away a big inflated balloon of love to share with everybody: giving ?   Beats me.  In the woodcut, he was adoring The Virgin, or some other long-haired, robe laden, winged saint.   Now that’s a trip, to think something outside yourself can bring you happiness.

All the major (Abrahamic) religions seem to have gone berserk, believing that peace can only be achieved when They are in charge.   They’ve gone back to the “eye for an eye”, our God is better than your god mindset.  Too bad.   Each Faith has a lot to offer the other.  And,  still be valid, even without the others having to be wrong.

More

Here’s some more carefully selected random drawings that I haven’t shown, or haven’t shown in a long time.  Most of the time, more is better than less.  At least when it comes to drawings (more or less)

I find myself sometimes  wanting less more these days, than wanting More.  Seems like freedom and less responsibility, is much more desirable than having more.  Maybe sometimes More is less of what ya really want.

Underwear

Here’s a couple of drawings I’ve done lately, with, and without underwear. You know what would really be cool?  Is to sit around in your underwear all day, and wear nothing else.  Underwear are clothes, you know;  they’re just clothes one usually wears under their outer garments.  Unless of course you’re  “hanging loose’ or going “commando”, then your outer garments become your under garments if you wear something over them.   So why not just wear underwear all day and nothing else?   It would be like giving the world the message, “I’m not doing jack-shit today, so don’t bother me.  I’m sitting around in my underwear, I’m not going outside, and I’m not taking them off!”

Here’s a few of my favorite activities I sometimes do when I’m just sitting around the house in my underwear:

Watch TV

Listen to music

Snack on junk food while watching TV

Get the munchies while listening to music

Draw pictures for my blog

Have a glass of wine while drawing

Get up and get some more wine

Smoke a joint

Listen to more music, but a touch louder

Raid the refrigerator

Have another glass of wine

Bug The Wife about when’s dinner

Take a nap

Wake up and watch some TV

Fall asleep in front of the TV

That sounds like a pretty full day to me.  Did I leave anything out ?

Back To The Basics

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Phucking Wif Bul Chit

Couldn’t put Fucking with Bullshit as my title, WordPress would ban me.  So I had to use an undecipherable phrase, like the one up above  to say Fucking with Bullshit, and not be offensive.  [Don’t wanna be offensive, even though this post contains liberal use of the “F-word”]. Anyway, FWBS is a phrase not to be taken literally. Oh no!  Wipe that image from your mind!  It’s more a euphemism for having to do stuff you’d really rather not like  to be  dealing with.   Going to work, problems at work, or sitting in meetings is one meaning.  So is having to do something you’ve done a zillion times, and never once found an iota of pleasure in, is another. [Hey, both sound like work!]

FWBS also has a more universal meaning.  Fore although the bullshit I may be fucking with is totally different form the bullshit you might be  fucking  with; we still have something in common: we’re both fucking with bullshit!  I think ya know what I mean.

I painted our newly dry-walled kitchen with primer today (the day I wrote this, not necessarily the same day you’ll be reading  this, because my ‘today’ is now, and yours will be later, but none the less, the same today.  Sure hope you don’t consider reading this blog fucking with bullshit.  It’s probably more like bullshit fucking with you.)

So…instead of having to do  a ton of preparation work, like being careful to tape everything, move stuff, and lay down drop-cloths, I had the whole room empty and prepared for me.  Nothing but me, four walls, a ceiling, paint and a roller.  I had at it!  But during the mist of all this fun with paint, I came the the realization why I haven’t painted anything around the house in seven years:  PAINTING SUCKS!  Even thought I didn’t have as much work to do fucking with all that preparation bullshit, I was still fucking with bullshit.

There ya have it.  Here I though I wasn’t gonna have to fuck with bullshit, and sure as shit, I still end up having to fuck with some.  I’d much rather prefer laying around the house all day, driving The Wife nuts, drawing, listening to music, and writing idiot blog posts, than fucking with bullshit.  But when you’re trying to save some money, and are a cheap shit, like I am, you gotta stay within your budget, spend your money wisely and fuck with all that bullshit.

The U.S. Presidential election is getting real interesting; big debate tonight.  America is being given the opportunity to see just how conservative It wants to be.  A lot of the rhetoric  coming from  the Fear Far Right, is scaring people to death.  We may want a change, but not a change backwards.  Guess it’s gonna be a question of Who do You want fucking with your Bullshit?