Thursday, June 14, 2012

Tattoos and Toe Nail Polish

"Hell, I am young.  I am free.  My teeth are clean.  The sun shines.  To hell with everything else." - Stephen Fry

As the title indicates, my toe nails are painted...a very bright pink.  It makes me feel girly and yet somewhat conflicted, which lead to my question "Do tattoos and toe nail polish go together?"  Everyone knows I'm a dog vs. a cat person and that I've always been a tattoo vs. a polish girl.  I'm told that I'm very black and white with few to no shades of grey.  Guess I'm digging my new shade of grey that has materialized itself more as a shade of pink.  Just for those keeping up with my budget, I did not go to the chinese nail salon and dip into my vodka fund, nor did I paint them myself.  Velcro is in charge of the toes.

I'm afraid that I am going to be asked to pay Coon Dick a retainer.  This week so far I've put him on a shark bladder mission and I just text him pictures of some weird tree that I need to know about.  The shark bladder research he did came up with two things.  First they do not have a waste system like us and the answer would be NO, they do not pee pee.  It seems some animals have swim bladders, kind of a kin to buoyancy control, but the shark is not one of them either.  They have oil in their large livers that is lighter than water and that's what makes them not plow the bottom.  My guess is that nurse sharks don't have so much of the oily liver since they lay around on the bottom all the time.  I'm also thinking that the reason sharks have large livers is because they live near the coast and everyone knows that if you are within 5 miles of the coast all you do is drink...wonder if humans will adapt this same survival method?  In attempt to get all my shark facts straight Coon Dick just revealed that sharks also don't poop.  I think I need one for a pet.

Care to guess what this is?  One may say, well Sparky, that there looks like a towel with a Target bag wadded up on top of it.   And one might be partially correct.  But in fact this is a homemade "Make the cat shut the fuck up so I can sleep at night" contraption.  She has been sleeping on a bag I left at the bottom of the stairs, the other day I picked it up in an attempt of cleaning and pretending to be an adult.  That night she woke me up yelling about every 30 minutes.  So I gave her the bag back.  Only to get yelled at on a less frequent schedule.  Last night I threw in the towel...literally and put in some ear plugs.  Happy to report she allowed me to sleep through the night. 

My living room is empty.  Amazingly this time it's not because I'm moving but because I have succumbed to the fact that animals are carpet don't mix well.  I'm having tile put down and in preparation I have emptied the room.  Now, I've said before that my living room is the only room in my house that looks like an actual grown up may live here.  Yesterday I called Velcro to ask if it was weird that I like the room better completely striped down.  His answer was the same as most people just worded more politely, instead of "Um...yea"  he said "Could be".  He knows me and I doubt this surprised him or much of anything else out of me for that matter.  I'm seriously considering not putting the stuff back in there.  Although, I'm not sure what to do with my coffee table.  Update to follow.
Found all these guys hanging out in one tidal pool. I've never seen one like the big guy at the top.  Of all the crazy random questions that I have, all of them are centered around earthy naturey stuff or bodily functions.  It may have been said before that I am like a four year old with a vodka habit and 12 year old boy's sense of humor.  But with boobs...and painted toe nails.

Folks, I'm telling you
birthing is hard
and dying is mean
so get yourself some
loving in between
- Langston Hughes

On a similar note "All I want to do is have sex and throw a cast net."
- Wingman

Friday, June 1, 2012

So Much To Say

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do.  So throw off the bow lines, sail away from safe harbor.  Catch the trade winds in your sails.  Explore.  Dream.  Discover." -Mark Twain

As much as I have reasons (see-excuses) for not writing, I get to a point where I feel my head is going to explode if I don't get something out and on paper.  I reached that point several weeks ago.  Not only does it wear me out to have all these thoughts running wild like rabid horny poodles it also takes down Velcro in the form of 500 crazy ass questions a day and a hyperness that I have little control over.  There really is no good place to start.  I turned a year older and I'm sure there was some insightful shit about where I am and where I was and will be but the moment is passed and I forget now.  The main thing I learned on my birthday was from the Wingman.  "If you're not farting, your not healthy.  At 50 you need to be farting 28-30 times a day."  So I had to inquire about my needed fart stats to insure my health at 39.  "15-18.  And if you aren't farting when you have sex...then you will be."  Awesome.  There's me something to look forward to.  Flatulence was quite the topic of conversation that evening.  It seems that cows farting in the atmosphere has something to do with the global warming issue.  I'm thinking that if they sneak into the closet to fart it wont really help the situation either.  Note polar ain't looking good for you, you're gonna need to adapt...retire, get some golf clubs and come on down and complain about how you just can't get good seal pizza...or bagels.

I am excited to announce that  I have a new source of non-traditional knowledge...we'll call him Coon Dick.  I actually had another name picked out but he came up with this one and it was so fitting. I had only been around him a time or two before I realized he's my new go to guy for questions about raccoon wienies and cow pee and such. As a matter of fact, the first time we met raccoons and their manhood was topic of conversation.  I'm sure he's just f-ing thrilled about all this.  The good part for Velcro is that he can now say..."I don't know, ask Coon Dick when you see him".  You can imagine the look on his face when I call him over at happy hour to ask why when you're cold do your nipples stick out but your wienie shrinks?  Btw, I had asked Velcro to pass my question along if he saw him before I did....he politely refused. (?) After the look of shock wore off he told me he would do some thinking and get back to me.  Sure enough he shows up a few days later with my answer and a mail brochure for a Erec-Tech Pos-T-Vac penis pump.  Who knew Medicare covered these things?  Which leads me to my other absolute genius idea.  If every one in the world would get simultaneously laid on the same day, can you imagine how great tomorrow would be?  Going without is not something people wear very well.  I see on a daily basis many, many people that just need to get laid.  Since I've touched on raccoon wienies and shrinking wienies, no better time to cover this subject too. 
This is a cooter.  This is why my hoo-hah does not like to be called a cooter.  Cooters are mean fucking turtles that are not scared of you and will hurt you.  Although that may partially be true of the hoo-hah, it does not look like a cooter.  Or a snapper.  Or a beaver...although that one is marginally acceptable.  Have you ever given much thought to all the animal connotations associated with the female junk?  Think about it.  Outside of the pink taco I'm pretty sure all others can be seen on an episode of wild kingdom. 

Since I wrote last I've procured a bath pillow, rode bitch (once), ate brussel sprouts in bed, took a zillion pictures of weird stuff on the beach, rode for bike week and got goosebumps from watching a flash mob on an episode of Weeds. Which led to flash mob stalking on you tube. (Just a tip of the iceberg) If you've never seen a flash mob you must google it.  I've never seen one in person...I think the odds of one busting out on the beach or anywhere I frequent are slim to none.  Some are much better than others but all of them amaze me.

These are some of the weird things that keep my little mind full of questions.  By the way, do you think that the ocean is deeper at low tide or is it just high tide somewhere else?  And if it is...where?

This is the Point that I talk about so much.
Every morning I save my first sip of coffee until my feet hit the sand.  Roger dogs mileage count on the year is officially at 203.  Pretty good for an old guy.  203 miles of sanity for his mom too.   

"Great minds discuss ideas.  Average minds discuss events.  Small minds discuss people." - Elenor Roosevelt