thanks

one week.

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off-white female seeking man with penis control

oh …. i suppose i should at some point consider collecting one of those ‘man-things’ … honestly could never find one that would train very well. one item of note: am sick to death of males looking for “mommy-replacements.” word of advice to any who are listening — go out on your own, live on your own. learn to do some dishes before you inflict yourself on a mate.

what i NEED is the quiet, bookworm type, a man who is not afraid to think outside the bounds, who doesn’t give two fracks about “achievement,” and avoids the various degrees of grunting that the local boy’s club requires for its rights of inclusion.

at the SAME time … this ideal of mine would need to NEVER have been a street-person. a hard worker at least smart enough to not fall prey to the under-belly of life in some self-defeatist nightmare.

a good man is one who does not need others to validate his journey, while at the same time has a caring and concern for others. which in our world that prizes selfishness over everything, …is not going to happen. the “man” i need most likely does not and cannot exist.

oh … and needs to be able to keep his penis in his pants when around other women.

only two things …………. a thinker, and penis control. and it’s an impossibility in the reality which i have been given. i seem to attract the sort who want ME to get a second job, as well as the “that’s just my aftershave you are smelling” type.

i don’t need a man around trying to convince me i’m crazy in order to fulfill some need for them to NOT feel crazy. i have x-ray vision when it comes to wool. my own head is actually and literally bigger than most males and have a genius IQ (not that those tests are worth jack sh*t) — it’s not going to happen.

you are not going to prove yourself superior, because there is no such thing. all humans are equal, we all breathe the same air and f*ck the same ground.

so yea ……. would be nice to have another human being hanging about that GOT me. but i only seem to find those that look to change me, when don’t see who i am in the first place. i don’t need a protector. i don’t need some lackey earning money for my existence. i don’t even need someone to warm a bed — in fact, the ideal situation to me would be a home with two bedrooms. forget ricky and lucy with beds side-by-side —- i want rhette and scarlet — each with their own suite, their own SPACE.

i really don’t feel there is a man out there who can fit the bill for what would ‘work’ in my life. and quite frankly, am tired of all the failures. of giving my all and getting spat on. you can take that last sentence however you like. my time is worth more these days…. and to spend it on someone who MIGHT be good for me, but more than likely will just eat my food, have me cleaning stains out of their underwear, and complain about how FAT i am. well, it doesn’t make much sense, does it?

then they slobber over anything that walks by in a skirt…. and you just roll your eyes.

On the way to Grandmother’s house

24-hours-in-pictures-Duck-004

Generally when people speak of delusion, they mean a singular delusion as opposed to a mass delusion.  when a delusion is of the mass variety, it is then called “religion.”

which then, instead of inflicting the participants with a high-dose medication of the anti-psychotic variety … those belonging to MASS delusions, or religion – are inflicted with dogma.  ritual.  and a steady need to be right all the time.

whereas when one develops SINGULAR delusions, the guessing game for reasons behind reality are approached with fear:  when facts stack up into too many illogical parameters.  and you grasp for the most probable explanation, even though chances are slim that the delusions are even close to the truth.  you see, the funny thing regarding that, is that IF your singular delusion is not accepted as a mass-delusion or at least close to one of the many in society – then it is considered WRONG regardless of any inherent logical conclusions.

I was reminded of these fun factoids, when reading in the paper today on how some think Utah ought to classify its shrinks according to race and religion.  so that those of a Buddhist faith, for example – can find a Buddhist psychologist.  and it had me shaking my head … for the very nature of self-delusion or purposely skewing your view because it’s what you want to see.

here they are, the psychological community … as good as admitting that “mental health” will be relative or correlative to race and religion.  that notions of “mentally unwell” will be MITIGATED according to a relative perspective of the therapist themselves.

that goes under you just trumped yourself with your own cards.  invalidated the entire notion of why you are in business in the first-place.  because psychiatry is yet ANOTHER religion in and of itself, with yes — they need to always be ‘right.’  and so they make up their terms and definitions in an ever-burdening manner to mold correct assumption upon incorrect observation.

you gotta love it … I have become almost endeared to the poor things.  sort of like how I feel the Catholics are to be pitied for lacks in spontaneity.  what do you do with people so confident in their mass delusions … that they are ultimately susceptible to mental imbalance once one of those made-up realities disappears?

like a mirage in the desert … will find themselves flat-out in a pocket of sand rather than a cool pond.  and that’s where the survivors like I come in – with our SINGULAR delusions and capability to draw conclusions upon the greater realities rather than the preached ‘truths.’

we reach down, pick the poor soul up by the hand, and say “hey, sand is what makes up glass, and you are really just past your own glass ceiling now and on top of everything with the power to fly wherever your heart desires.  and as that person spreads a pair of wings and takes off …. we go, “I’ll be damned, they did.”

why are your realities and mass delusions so precious that you create a specialized police force to ensure their uninterrupted continuance?  because the psychiatric community is often a matter of putting the fox in charge of the chicken coop.  just so you know.

and if you are to start classifying the psychiatrists according to race and religion so a patient can predetermine the probabilities for tolerance …well – I could say I told you so.  but I’ll leave it at “notice how the sands are really particles of glass….”

round the rosie once and back

i attempted and won ONCE at musical chairs … just to know i COULD.  the rest of the time, i worked to help someone else i LIKED, win the game.

that’s how i roll …. because “winning” never made sense to me.  it was always more important to have fun, and to find a way to get the greatest amount of challenge out of any endeavor.  why?  well, if something is too easy it blows in the fun-department.

like with video games — if something has no or very little challenge to-it, it’s snoozeville.  you aren’t playing to WIN —— you’re playing for the CHALLENGE.  it’s why Angry Birds is so popular:  there is a good challenge to it for those who like to engineer more difficult feats, and yet it also has a degree of entertainment for those only able to focus on “the win.”

i never set-up stupid challenges.  like trying to read so many books in a day or a week:  try WRITING so many books in a day or a week, and you have something.  reading just to say you could, is like saying walking in a circle is an accomplishment.

diversions upon diversions …. and where do we go for our reality-checks?  the media and now the internet, to suggest yet more diversions.  there is a difference between a diversion and a challenge.

a challenge will test your ability and help it grow;  a diversion will only use what ability you have and mire it in arrogance.

we have a “bucket list” and some growing urgency to infuse those diversions with a deeper meaning THEY DON’T HAVE.  jumping out of an airplane, running of the bulls, riding the rapids …. what do they test?  FEAR.

not ability … but capacities to stomach fear.  i learned mine in a bumpy flight from honolulu … was 14 or so.  the stewardesses had us trying on lifejackets as a “game.”  and you can bet your ass i won that game — the prize was a mini bottle of Chardonnay.  i emptied the bottle, and put my black pearl that i got in Hawai, in it to save.  have no idea where that went-to, or what happened to it.

but i saw how afraid some were, and since i was busy measuring the degrees of bounce in proportion to speed, and dips in altitude — i wasn’t a part of that collective fear.  and that’s how you beat it.  what does jumping out of an airplane prove?  well, unless you’re parachuting behind enemy lines for the good of your country …. the only thing it proves is that you had $100+ to blow on jumping out of an airplane.

for the things i’ve tried, i didn’t do so because they were hard or scary.  in fact, the day i hung up my boogie board was the day it threatened my life!  lol … got caught behind the crash-point when they increased from 3 foot waves to 10 foot in less than an hour.  and i was screwed if i didn’t ride one of those puppies in to shore.  all i remember, is looking at the exposed sand as that wave  pulled EVERY bit of water in front of it into the curl. and i really kissed my ass good-bye — figured i was dead and this really sucked.

does it make a good story?  yea … but so does the story of how i found this cave in the fields behind our house, and it had built in shelves from where the rains had chiseled out the sides.  so i used them for my toys … and when my parents died, they didn’t let us go back.  so i wonder if pokey and gumby are still sitting on those shelves ….

i stopped boogie boarding because i decided it was stupid.  and had already gained all the abilities i was willing to venture time-for.  i stopped skiing because no one is capable of making a boot that fits me properly.  to get enough control, my feet lose all feeling by the end of the day.  and i found out that the loose boots are just plain dangerous.  so you quantify the degree of “fun” available, by how much custom-built equipment is going to cost.

and it is seriously more sense to sit in a field and pick daisies.  you would have to be insane to spend that kind of money on perfecting the abilities of hurtling down a mountain on a pair of sticks.  same with golf … it’s fun.  but for similar skills, you could pick up a tennis racket and go to a public park for free.  i thought the waste of perfectly good land for golf, is a tad on the irresponsible-side.

now how many tangents does that make?  all i really wanted to say, is that musical chairs was some kind of test for a determined attitude.  you only have 4 chairs and five children.  it’s about sacrifice.  do you sacrifice others, or sacrifice yourself?  my test was to find a way to do neither.

we have the farmer in the dell, where the cheese stands alone.  we had “we’re going to kentucky.”  i always wondered why anyone would have a buckle in their hair.  and the infamous “duck duck goose.”  there are more … double-dutch with the jump ropes.  we had a version with bamboo poles … two stomps down and two stomps together.  while you dance between them.

but to get YOUR rhythm right, depended on the ones holding the poles … and if they are off by the slightest fraction of a beat, it doesn’t matter how skilled you are at the dance.  and that’s a lesson, too.

i suppose it comes down to trust and working together, verses working apart.  and sometimes with a game like musical chairs, the winner is simply the one with the biggest ass.

tuned in: gotta be the frosting

you know what’s interesting?  how many people want to know how much CAKE gets eaten in the world!  lol …. every day, i get hits on a blog that i titled “let them eat cake: statistics on world consumption.”  (the article is on world-powers sharing resources, and nothing to do with ‘cake’ so much)

at first, thought the heavy traffic was a matter of potential bombers looking up uranium-cake numbers.  but over time, and from the wording in the various search entries — mostly appears that the INTEREST is in just plain cake!  the birthday sort …. the yum-yum to your thighs sort.  could it be market research … wondering if yet ONE MORE bakery should be opened on the corner of 1st and main?

hard to say.  but i like to think that the world has a fascination for cake that crosses all bounds and divides.  let them eat cake!

oh ….. yes 🙂