It's mayhem...

Sometimes people ask me if all this fame coming from quiet-ramblings.com has gone to my head.  I think by now we all know that sugar coating and beating around the bush isn't really my style.  So I look said fans and/or jealous counter parts right in the face and reply, "absolutely".  Then I show them a map that plots the locations of my global followers and I say, "smoke this".

I can't help it that I was genetically reconfigured with ninja DNA.  Did I choose to be a lab rat for the CIA the day after I was circumcised?  OK, you got me, I probably did.  I was laying there while the doc did his deed with no analgesics, gazing across the nursery at all the other crying babies.  So I didn't see what all the fuss was about.  Apparently the CIA was recruiting that day (I can't be sure the details still remain fuzzy to this day, plus after every briefing the
Image by DonkeyHotey via Flickragents would say, "this never happened,"  to which I had to reply, "what never happened,")  It was all very covert.  Surely sometime around age four I was kidnapped by the secret order of the Shaolin Ninja Dynasty somewhere in Japan, at which point I retrained aging ninjas.  Look that's all I can say, my point is: How could someone judge me for being the bad ass that I am.

Now that we've got all the sponsor mandated self promotion taken care, I'd like to move to a subject of great importance.  Some of you may not be aware, but I want you to know that there is no known immunity to the video/social/computer game epidemic.  Think about it Mr. "I control my own destiny", what were you saying the last time you played Words With Friends.  I bet it was, "Just a couple more rounds than I'm going to bed."  We all know that you were up til 3AM trying to shake the demons.  I bet you're playing right now.  When you finally put your foot down and called it a night, Was the sun up?  Did you have enough time to empty a bladder that you've been ignoring for hours?  If you're fortunate to be sober, I warn you, do not jump on the next gaming wagon.  It could be your last.

Writer's block...

Image via WikipediaOk folks, it's time to come clean.  Lately I've been running in strict improv mode.  You see being a student again has given me a daily live venue to debate all the moral dilemmas that we face as Americans.  And get this, there's no principal's office.  Apparently I'm supposed to be mature and understand how to behave during class.  Seriously?  Don't people know that I'm not capable of such nonsense?  So my loving classmates are now the privileged recipients of the overflowing pools of knowledge that can not be contained in my head.  When I say "can not", I honestly mean I don't have a choice.  Apparently when my brain was being manufactured in the "mind factory" some tweaker on the assembly line, who's in charge of installing the part of our brain that filters out innappropriate comments in social situations, was coming down off a three day high and fell asleep.  Well, there was probably a new guy or a fill-in running quality control too, because I got passed there undetected as well.  Anyways with an open venue to discuss mind blowing subjects such as anatomy and nursing theory (...zzzzzz), I arrive home at night pretty spent.  

So here I am left to question my own awesomeness.  Don't get confused it is not a question of awesomeness, it is more like--where do I stand?  Am I at level: super awesome or inconceiveably awesome to the 10th power.  You see, I thought that there was an endless fountain of knowledge and incredibly lucid quips constantly flowing from my mind.  It appears that economists may be on to something when they all agree that even on this great earth raw materials are limited.  Although I'd love to support "common belief" and be just another sheep in the herd, I prefer the lonely road.  Could it be, that maybe there is no deficit of knowledge and maybe there is a filter?  Maybe the filter just needs to be delved from bellow the layers of white matter (that's the quick part of the brainage).

Now I'm just confusing myself.  I just want my little soldiers to know that the revolution is still very much alive.  Unfortunately, my mad skills are being used up on sexual innuendos during talk of reproductive organs...

la verdad es que....

Image via Wikipedia
Sometimes your just too busy to release the thundering words of encouragement, that are carefully threaded through each majestic blog post.  People left and right are offering me hundreds and thousands of dollars to bleed out another post.  To this I reply, "I realize that my superfluous lyrics are engraved upon your hearts, but the only reward I can accept is the joy of seeing more and more people boycotting Subarus; that we're no longer pulling over for policeman during rush hour (for they damn well know better than to further inhibit the flow of comerce); and that we as a unit have set the revolution is motion."  I can understand the sorrow that may come each day for the many who currently have this url set as their homepage and fire up their computer to find nothing but another old post.

Let's think about this police canandrum for a minute here.  Having to commute to work or school alongside thousands of others, who no doubt hate whatever working enviornment lays before them, is painful enough.  To further twist the knife there are individuals known as police officers, that have the gall to issue citations for driving over the speed limit.  Seriously Officers?  You can't even break the speed limit during rush hour.  For the few people that magically manage to break the speed limit, I think a reward is necessary.  Rather than pull them over and further slow up every other individual, why not clear the road for people willing to drive at a decent rate.

All I'm saying is quit ruining my day...