Jeremiah's School of Levitation

What my days need is some ubiquitous "Blog This!" button just floating around that, when inspired, I could push and, subsequently, whatever action I was performing at that time, or whatever thought fired past on a blue streak of light would get instantly uploaded to my blog, my poor neglected, big-eyed blog, my poor canvas-bag-wearing, trembling hand reaching out muttering "Guv-nah!" blog.(Speaking of blue streaks of light, remember that show "Fridays" which actually starred many future major players of "Seinfeld", like Julia Louis-Dreyfus, and Michael Richards, and Larry David, and Brad Hall, who ended up marrying Julia Louis-Dreyfus? Well, remember that guy who always took too many pharmaceuticals and ended up hallucinating and always saw mercurial flashes of light heading directly for his head, which made him duck violently? Then, he'd stand back up and ask whoever was standing near if they saw that flash of light and, of course they didn't because they were riding on a much lower cloud than he was and he'd consent to that fact and say "Yeah, I guess not. You would have seen THAT!")

So, because no one has invented a "Blog This!" button that I can plug into my life, then I have to imagine that one exists, so, today, I pretended I had one and, at random moments, I pushed it. Here are the results.

8:06 AM--The Park and Ride Mass Transit Station. It looks like I've missed the bus to work, which is roughly in the Dagoba System. I've missed it because every single clock I own has a different time on it, which assures that I'll always show up at a time when I shouldn't have. My car clock is 4 or 5 minutes fast. The clock on my stove actually seems to fluctuate between being fast and slow, probably due to the fact that it has had its share of burned meat fumes that I've subjected it to and is now effectively senile and crazed. Every now and then, it remembers the days of minutes actually being 60 seconds and not 5 seconds, a malfunction caused by the result of fumes I created when I experimented with what happens to a banana at 400 degrees. And, I can't find my watch. I lost it in the living room three months ago and, though I sometimes think I'm hearing it tick, I also sometimes hear the sound of squirrels in the walls, so, those sounds I take as just reminders that I need to refill my drink. My cell phone clock is usually right whenever I remember to charge it, which wasn't today. So, I have to actually drive to work again, and contemplate absolutely nothing because I'm going to be in traffic, moving at a speed that requires that I keep tapping the accelerator, and then suddenly hitting the brake at intervals just slightly shorter than the speed of thought. By the time I'm at work, my brain's so gnawed up, that I can't even remember where I sit.

11:34 PM--I check my email and realize that, over the last week, I've been the successful victim of a massive porn email spam invasion. And, in a way, it is deviously brilliant. I have spam filters to catch the usual porn language, but these evil spam rats have taken it one step further. They now populate their emails with "alternate" spellings of porn talk. So, I have a filter that will trash any email that contains the word "anal", for instance, which isn't a word that anyone I want to talk to uses in emails to me, even if it is part of the word "analyze" because no one I regularly correspond with has the time, or the brain cells left, to analyze anything more complicated than what's on tap. However, the porn scholars still get "anal" past my filters because they use spellings such as "aanal", "a-nal", etc. The possible combinations for every possible porn word boggles my hhead, and I realized that I was actually thinking of devising a filter to catch a majority of them, and I was scrunching up my face while doing so, which would have made for an interesting conversation had my wife asked me what I was so involved in thinking about.

"Well," I'd say, deliriously, "I was wondering--just how many ways are there to spell 'anal'?" Years of marriage will be called into doubt at that point.

What puzzles me, to the point of anger, is WHY are they trying to beat the porn filters? If I don't want to read any email with the words "loose cuties" in it, why the heck do they think that if they just spell it "lloose cu-tees" would I suddenly say "Hey! Now we're talkin'! I gotta see some movies about 'lloose cu-tees'. Woo weee! Finally, someone who gets my fetish!" Jeez.

Boy, this is getting long, isn't it? Maybe I've found a way to keep my blog up to date. Or, if nothing else, I've found a way to get you to help me devise a filter for "anal." I gotta go.

major drag dude.....

No doubt a "Blog This!" button would work no better than that silly corporate Staples "Easy" button (which does absolutely nothing, but they actually sell in the store. Are people fools? Well, probably.) The button would, no doubt, undermine your wonderful turns of phrase and creative posts.

I had the different clock time problem too, but now I've got an inexpensive small clock that sets itself by satellite, and that's the only clock I check when heading out to catch the bus.

Oh, you made me laugh out loud. Snort even. Or should I say, llaugh outt lowd. My hubby, AKA Mr. Coffee assumes me broken, with me only laughing at humor so entirely dry the even Brits would think me far too satirical to be cast in a Monty Python Reunion Special.

"....work, which is roughly in the Dagoba System."

LOL! I just hope your vehicle is droid friendly. Can't be too careful with the valet parking. One minute you think they are hovering nicely over to your parking spot and the minute your back is turned they are out doing sand donuts with a couple Tusken Raiders.

I'm sometimes a total idiot when it comes to search terms...like, if I want a recipe to use up those thawed chicken breasts in my freezer, the search hits on 'breasts' brings up the most interesting sites that have absolutely NOTHING at all to do with dinner.

Ditto the Blog Button. LIke that EASY button at Staples. Zoom! Instant Blog!