I Love To Laugh (at me) And My Chasing at Sobriety
“Hey Lance! What would you do if you ever caught the Sobriety Bus?”
“Burn my nose on the tail-pipe–I don’t know–haven’t thought it through.”
******
(Ed. Note: The Bob Marley Vid ain’t Necessary, nor requisite. But I find it a ‘Nice Touch.’ Watch it if you want. Don’t if you don’t.)
“Totally ”Down-Stroyed'” I love a play on words!
(When it works…)
*****
So I discover a small lake in my ‘Head’—Bathroom. “Whatever does this mean?” I asked the Resident Gnat Watch-keeper. “You’re the Fucking Genius, Tell Us.” he replied.
I scoped it out.
Sure as shit, The Shitter was leaking out of its ass. I closed the water supply, emptied the basin, found some towels, threw same upon the floor. Went back to my neglected beer.
Then came a knocking upon my door… “Mister Marcom, is there a leak in your bathroom? Water water everywhere in this hall.” Deb said. I replied, “Uh, Yeah, but I fixed it.”
(Don’t want no trouble)
Deb said, “I’ll send Cynthia around to check it out. My ‘Guy’ isn’t here today.”
(Shit!)
Presently, My Love, My Cynthia, arrives.
“How you doin’ Baby?” (She always calls me ‘Baby’—It is a ‘Black Woman Thing’)
“I’m Fine Baby.”
(I can do ‘Black Woman’ vernacular too)
“Y’all got a leak?” “Yeah, it’s the toilet, but I ‘fixed’ it. Turned off the water and emptied it.” “So, you need a new toilet?” “I suppose.” “Okay Baby. Tomorrow…” “Cheers Baby. And Thank you. Ciou”
And she left.
Now I have something to look forward to: Some smelly fat white-guy Plumber invading my Sanatorium to replace my toilet and displace what little concentration I have left.
(As an Old–Fat, Smelly White Guy Myself–I know far too well, the Breed, and what to expect.)
There are no less than thirty empty wine boxes in my head. Curious as to how ‘Plumber Man’ will deal with them…
I spend almost all of my ‘awake’ hours thinking about writing.
I spend what is ‘left-over’ actually writing.
Since most of Y’all who are kind enough to visit me here are writers too, I would like to share some of my thoughts about the ‘writing process’, or at least ‘My’ Version of the Writing Process.
As I said, I spend an inordinate amount of time ‘Thinking’ about writing.
Not ‘searching’ for things to write ‘about’
Oh Hell No!
I’ve got so much shit in my head I WANT to write, but Most of it is garbage.
But ever’ once in a while, a light bulb comes to life (Light?)
And then I write.
To be completely honest, at that point, it takes me very little time to write it. I don’t (for the most part) fuss much over spelling, punctuation, nor anything else.
I DO, however, invest way too much time searching for music or images, or videos to accentuate and help my narrative.
(Truthfully, I use music and videos as a crutch to hold me up and forestall my lack of confidence… )
This is a character flaw I possess.
Anyway, at some point I clik the ‘Publish Button.’
ShareCredit: Y’all Enjoy Thanks to Kevin Bacon (Yeah, that actor dude) Yeah, we’re FB Buds. Hahahahah!Someone put a lot of time and effort into constructing this vid; wish I could give proper credit. Alas..
Ed. Note: (At the beginning. Yes, not ‘conventional’)
But if you do not watch the videos, you are wasting your time here.
Street Share Vid Cred: kingofkungfu2002
Original Creators (I Think): Mike Stock, Pete Waterman, Matt Aitken Fuk it. I tried.
*****
I am usually met with success. (Because I am persistent) ‘Happiness’ is a choice. A Conscious Choice. You can choose to be happy. You can choose to be sad. It is your choice. Not saying that it is always easy,
To find Happy.
****
Just had to:
Jennifer!
Maniac!
Captured my Heart all-over-again!
Frequently you must search it out. Shit! Sometimes even I have to look under the bed In the ‘head.’ –Navy Vernacular Under The Couch. Under The Grouch But I always find it: Happiness. Like the Vid at the top of this post—That made me happy.
I searched it out.
(Found it Buried in my instant messages and behind my fridge–but I found it–finally.)
****
I hope you do too.
Find ‘Happy’
Live Happy
Cheers!
(Confession Time: The only reason this post even exists is to serve as a vehicle for the marvelous dance videos at the top. Feel free to ignore all my preachy bullshit prose and just enjoy the videos. Hahahahaha)
“I should not talk so much about myself if there were anybody else whom I knew as well.”
― Henry David Thoreau, Walden: Or, Life in the Woods
(Ed. Note: This Post has kinda Gone off the Rails & morph’d into an Annie Lennox bit)
Sorry. Not Sorry.
Scroll Down
In most things Politic, I list heavily to Starboard. But at other times I list slightly to Port.
My Ship Never straddles
The ‘Safe’ Middle.
I am ‘Complicated.’ As are all ‘Thinking People.’
I am delirious with pain right now.
Ignore me. Wish I had some of the ‘good’ drugs…
Ed. Note: I know I have promised BOTH of My Faithful Readers to write some longer, better, substantial Shit, But This Screwed-up neck of mine, along with the accompanying pain makes it almost unbearable to bend over this ‘IBM Selectric’ Typewriter
C’est Moi!
for more than a few minutes at a time.
Now, returning to the subject meat of this matter,
(“More Matter, Less Art.”–Thank you Gertrude)
Was there a ‘subject’ ?? Oh Yeah. Right vs. Left Spy vs. Spy Yin vs. Yang Peas vs. Carrots Madness
*****
My Adventure in trying to get published:
****
Footnote:
I forgot I had left a glass of wine in the ‘head’ (Navy parlance for ‘Bathroom’); now I have a platoon of
