Steady rollin
Originally posted September 10th. 2007
Call me chatter minded. That or just deficiently curious. I guess it‘s just a matter of perspective really, but when the opportunity arises, granted be it not all that often lately, I do have a nasty habit of allowing for my mind to wander. It will usually start off as a tangent, like say for example stopping dead in my tracks this morning while winding up hoses, to consider why it was I’d had Whitney Houston’s “How will I know” stuck in my head for the last hour and a half, how it had found it’s way there in the first place, and why it was I really didn’t seem to mind. Curious.
It happens from time to time. A thought forms, and I pick at it like a scab. I pick, I prod, I probe, and I ponder. I consider the absurd, the other side, and I even allow for the occasional “yes I am a man, and I don‘t feel the lest bit bad about making a spectacle out of you, after a fellow subordinate had offered us each an handful of Wasabi flavored peanuts, and you made the mistake of saying “I dare you to suck on them”, while I’d had my wit about me.” Most men I know just don’t generally suggest sucking on spicy nuts in the work place…Come to think of it, and oh yes I did think of it. Most men I know don’t generally dare each other to suck on nuts at all. It’s not common, and it’s just the sort of thing that has a habit of putting my gears into motion when things are running smooth and I have a few extra moments to make considerations outside of whether or not is was a good idea to let the new guy wash the hood position.
A curious tangent at first that for one reason or another inevitably leads me blindly to yet another thought. That thought grows, and somehow manifests into yet another ponder pow wow, that will in most cases be completely unrelated. Eventually that thought will lead me in yet another path pointed in an entirely new direction. Take Wasabi flavored nuts sucking for example. At some point not long after, I found myself stooped in front of a drive wheel absorbed in after thought, as I sprayed acid onto the wheel like a zombie, and suddenly I had a new thought. I had to considered how good the possibility was that I might be on some form of government watch list.
Where the hell did that come from?
Well…Lets see. I do have family that work in high security government jobs, and I can’t deny that I think at least half of my immediate family is in fact nuts, as far as I’m concerned. There is also the undeniable fact revolving largely around my eldest’s sisters, uhm, not so better half…I think he is about as useful as an empty canteen in the middle of a Sahara. Perhaps that is how I drew the sparrow to it’s nest. Perhaps it was another path. In earnest at this point of hind sight it’s really all speculation. Still the thought was there. Or was it? Could they be watching me? I at that point could not help but consider that it might not have been the best idea to first perform a search on my computer the other night, for information and images of a Barret .50 caliber semi automatic sniper rifle, right before I then conducted a thorough search for the where abouts and history of Slobodan Milosevic. You can’t deny…It does raises questions.
It didn't stop there though. I then pondered further. That seemed to lead me to a multiple choice section of my brain, where I could decide wear the next ponder would be struck from. Sort of like those old books I use to read back in junior high, where I could decided at some point what would happen next, and then turned to the page as instructed. It never worked out the way I wanted, and I usually ended up finding myself all corpse like or imprisoned. Odd that a recollection like that would then lead me to curiosities such as my spending habits.
I’ve heard the conspiracy theorists plaints, and their hushed messages. I rarely carry cash, and most of my purchases are made with the convenience of plastic. This would be the cue where I considered some of my more resent purchases at the mega Wal-Mart and other various locations round about town, taking comfort in the fact that between the time I'd made the some what resent and arguably random purchases of beer, condoms, hamburger meat, insect poison, and a lawn mower mulching blade, I’d not formed a wild hair and gone out to garner myself a passport. That sort of consideration eventually led me in yet another brand new direction. A direction that for some reason actually makes sense to me for once. I thought about the Wife. That thought then led me in the direction of this fine countries leaders. There again, that path made perfect sense. The Wife is well, Wife. She is the boss of this here domicile, and we must adhere to her law. Like wise our administrative council is in control of this here country. Each equal in there own way. While in charge, they must answer to the folk they speak for...So ends theory.
The Wife runs the house, and I have to admit considering that I am quite matter of factly overlord and final nay sayer round about these parts, I don't mind saying that she does a pretty damn fine job. She even said I could say so, you can ask her. Our presidency, they run...Well, their running this country strait into the ground, near as I can figure, but it’s really beside the point. I honestly keep having these images of the Roman empire’s final days flashing before my eyes. I recalled that during the last election, while I had voted, I had not been shy in confessing that I didn’t see the point. I’m feeling much the same way about the up and coming elections now. I hear big Fred is planning on taking a stab at the presidency, but to be perfectly honest, I don’t know where he stands on anything, and he does wear a suit. For some reason that makes the eye twitch…
From Whitney Houston’s “how will I know”, to sucking on nuts, to government observation, to my immediate family, and our leaders, in less then two and half hours. The brain was not done there. It then had to go off on a rant. I considered big Fred, and his claims of coming from blue collar roots. Then I considered that it really didn’t matter where he had came from, right now he was wearing a suit, and crudely dressed blue collar sort like myself don’t generally get on well with folk who wear suits. Then I allowed myself to consider just what it was I would like to see in a president.
How bout honestly…It’s probably asking to much, but gee whiz it would be a good start. How bout a blue collar president. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I want a president that doesn’t wear a suit. I want a president that real people can actually connect with, because he is not just another political puppet, and we know it, because he's been caught on camera no less then thirty eight times, out on the white house lawn in a pair of faded sweat pants, scooping up dog crap with a rake and spade shovel on Sunday mornings. I want a president that addresses other world leaders as “Dude”, and “Bro” and wont talk to the tight ass that thinks a knuckle exchange of "Pound'em" is uncivilized. I want a president that wouldn't worry about impressing the rest of the world with proper articulation and uses informalities like “Now that just ain’t right”, and “Try that, n’ we’ll put a boot in yer ass…I mean it now, ya hear.” I want a president that would consider the repercussions of ignoring the little people within the boarders of its own country, doesn’t care if Iran dislikes the way we conduct business with Turkey, and after a long day, wouldn’t bother considering the repercussions of bolting out of his racer orange and boss stripe painted limo in front of the white house in a dead run, screaming at the top of his lungs, “Damn it man clear a path! I’m prairie doggen!”. I want a president that addresses the nation dressed in dirty blue jeans and a Dale Earnhardt tee shirt with the sleeves cut off, while he changes the timing belt on his neighbors 68’ Camaro. "Well, soon as I'm done here, we're gonna start this puppy up n' check out the timing. When that's good I'm gonna get on the horn with Hu. Hu, Hing, Ding, Deng, Dang, Dude, whatever the hell her name is, I'm gonna call'em up and let'em know we are breaking ties with China, because well, communism is an evil thing, and so is most of what we export from them." I want a president that shows up at the NATO conference with sixteen kegs of chilled Coors Light, and starts off the session with a Bill Engvall “Heres your sign North Korea” Joke, right before he mentions that Texas Whoppers from Burger King would be served along side that weird green stuff the Nigerian delegates brought along. It sounded pretty good in my head. I want a blue collar, company man that doesn't just stand for the people, but is actually a real person.
Then. Then I considered government watch dogs again, and that was about the time I got blasted with about six and half gallons of H2O, from a high powered water canon somewhere on the other side of the truck, and George Thorogood’s “I’m a steady rollin man” suddenly replaced everything.
There are times I don’t know for certain if I have any real direction. I have a habit of questioning everything that comes within ten feet of me. I’m not even sure if there is any rhyme or reason to the way I think, but at the end of the day, I do figure one thing for fact. I think I’m still a steady rollin man.
Until next time, stay warm, stay dry, stay safe.
Static.
Um...Youtube didn't have I'm a steady rollin man...So you'll just have to hum it to yourself.
Steady rollin
Originally posted September 10th. 2007
Call me chatter minded. That or just deficiently curious. I guess it‘s just a matter of perspective really, but when the opportunity arises, granted be it not all that often lately, I do have a nasty habit of allowing for my mind to wander. It will usually start off as a tangent, like say for example stopping dead in my tracks this morning while winding up hoses, to consider why it was I’d had Whitney Houston’s “How will I know” stuck in my head for the last hour and a half, how it had found it’s way there in the first place, and why it was I really didn’t seem to mind. Curious.
It happens from time to time. A thought forms, and I pick at it like a scab. I pick, I prod, I probe, and I ponder. I consider the absurd, the other side, and I even allow for the occasional “yes I am a man, and I don‘t feel the lest bit bad about making a spectacle out of you, after a fellow subordinate had offered us each an handful of Wasabi flavored peanuts, and you made the mistake of saying “I dare you to suck on them”, while I’d had my wit about me.” Most men I know just don’t generally suggest sucking on spicy nuts in the work place…Come to think of it, and oh yes I did think of it. Most men I know don’t generally dare each other to suck on nuts at all. It’s not common, and it’s just the sort of thing that has a habit of putting my gears into motion when things are running smooth and I have a few extra moments to make considerations outside of whether or not is was a good idea to let the new guy wash the hood position.
A curious tangent at first that for one reason or another inevitably leads me blindly to yet another thought. That thought grows, and somehow manifests into yet another ponder pow wow, that will in most cases be completely unrelated. Eventually that thought will lead me in yet another path pointed in an entirely new direction. Take Wasabi flavored nuts sucking for example. At some point not long after, I found myself stooped in front of a drive wheel absorbed in after thought, as I sprayed acid onto the wheel like a zombie, and suddenly I had a new thought. I had to considered how good the possibility was that I might be on some form of government watch list.
Where the hell did that come from?
Well…Lets see. I do have family that work in high security government jobs, and I can’t deny that I think at least half of my immediate family is in fact nuts, as far as I’m concerned. There is also the undeniable fact revolving largely around my eldest’s sisters, uhm, not so better half…I think he is about as useful as an empty canteen in the middle of a Sahara. Perhaps that is how I drew the sparrow to it’s nest. Perhaps it was another path. In earnest at this point of hind sight it’s really all speculation. Still the thought was there. Or was it? Could they be watching me? I at that point could not help but consider that it might not have been the best idea to first perform a search on my computer the other night, for information and images of a Barret .50 caliber semi automatic sniper rifle, right before I then conducted a thorough search for the where abouts and history of Slobodan Milosevic. You can’t deny…It does raises questions.
It didn't stop there though. I then pondered further. That seemed to lead me to a multiple choice section of my brain, where I could decide wear the next ponder would be struck from. Sort of like those old books I use to read back in junior high, where I could decided at some point what would happen next, and then turned to the page as instructed. It never worked out the way I wanted, and I usually ended up finding myself all corpse like or imprisoned. Odd that a recollection like that would then lead me to curiosities such as my spending habits.
I’ve heard the conspiracy theorists plaints, and their hushed messages. I rarely carry cash, and most of my purchases are made with the convenience of plastic. This would be the cue where I considered some of my more resent purchases at the mega Wal-Mart and other various locations round about town, taking comfort in the fact that between the time I'd made the some what resent and arguably random purchases of beer, condoms, hamburger meat, insect poison, and a lawn mower mulching blade, I’d not formed a wild hair and gone out to garner myself a passport. That sort of consideration eventually led me in yet another brand new direction. A direction that for some reason actually makes sense to me for once. I thought about the Wife. That thought then led me in the direction of this fine countries leaders. There again, that path made perfect sense. The Wife is well, Wife. She is the boss of this here domicile, and we must adhere to her law. Like wise our administrative council is in control of this here country. Each equal in there own way. While in charge, they must answer to the folk they speak for...So ends theory.
The Wife runs the house, and I have to admit considering that I am quite matter of factly overlord and final nay sayer round about these parts, I don't mind saying that she does a pretty damn fine job. She even said I could say so, you can ask her. Our presidency, they run...Well, their running this country strait into the ground, near as I can figure, but it’s really beside the point. I honestly keep having these images of the Roman empire’s final days flashing before my eyes. I recalled that during the last election, while I had voted, I had not been shy in confessing that I didn’t see the point. I’m feeling much the same way about the up and coming elections now. I hear big Fred is planning on taking a stab at the presidency, but to be perfectly honest, I don’t know where he stands on anything, and he does wear a suit. For some reason that makes the eye twitch…
From Whitney Houston’s “how will I know”, to sucking on nuts, to government observation, to my immediate family, and our leaders, in less then two and half hours. The brain was not done there. It then had to go off on a rant. I considered big Fred, and his claims of coming from blue collar roots. Then I considered that it really didn’t matter where he had came from, right now he was wearing a suit, and crudely dressed blue collar sort like myself don’t generally get on well with folk who wear suits. Then I allowed myself to consider just what it was I would like to see in a president.
How bout honestly…It’s probably asking to much, but gee whiz it would be a good start. How bout a blue collar president. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I want a president that doesn’t wear a suit. I want a president that real people can actually connect with, because he is not just another political puppet, and we know it, because he's been caught on camera no less then thirty eight times, out on the white house lawn in a pair of faded sweat pants, scooping up dog crap with a rake and spade shovel on Sunday mornings. I want a president that addresses other world leaders as “Dude”, and “Bro” and wont talk to the tight ass that thinks a knuckle exchange of "Pound'em" is uncivilized. I want a president that wouldn't worry about impressing the rest of the world with proper articulation and uses informalities like “Now that just ain’t right”, and “Try that, n’ we’ll put a boot in yer ass…I mean it now, ya hear.” I want a president that would consider the repercussions of ignoring the little people within the boarders of its own country, doesn’t care if Iran dislikes the way we conduct business with Turkey, and after a long day, wouldn’t bother considering the repercussions of bolting out of his racer orange and boss stripe painted limo in front of the white house in a dead run, screaming at the top of his lungs, “Damn it man clear a path! I’m prairie doggen!”. I want a president that addresses the nation dressed in dirty blue jeans and a Dale Earnhardt tee shirt with the sleeves cut off, while he changes the timing belt on his neighbors 68’ Camaro. "Well, soon as I'm done here, we're gonna start this puppy up n' check out the timing. When that's good I'm gonna get on the horn with Hu. Hu, Hing, Ding, Deng, Dang, Dude, whatever the hell her name is, I'm gonna call'em up and let'em know we are breaking ties with China, because well, communism is an evil thing, and so is most of what we export from them." I want a president that shows up at the NATO conference with sixteen kegs of chilled Coors Light, and starts off the session with a Bill Engvall “Heres your sign North Korea” Joke, right before he mentions that Texas Whoppers from Burger King would be served along side that weird green stuff the Nigerian delegates brought along. It sounded pretty good in my head. I want a blue collar, company man that doesn't just stand for the people, but is actually a real person.
Then. Then I considered government watch dogs again, and that was about the time I got blasted with about six and half gallons of H2O, from a high powered water canon somewhere on the other side of the truck, and George Thorogood’s “I’m a steady rollin man” suddenly replaced everything.
There are times I don’t know for certain if I have any real direction. I have a habit of questioning everything that comes within ten feet of me. I’m not even sure if there is any rhyme or reason to the way I think, but at the end of the day, I do figure one thing for fact. I think I’m still a steady rollin man.
Until next time, stay warm, stay dry, stay safe.
Static.
Um...Youtube didn't have I'm a steady rollin man...So you'll just have to hum it to yourself.