Coffee, Stupidity, Insanity & Germs

Amazing, how she can write so much about coffee and the mundane moments within her domestic trivia. Go ahead and say it now and get it over with. I know you want to... Domestica ^(tm) is one of my subjects, because I'm a domestic sort. Or domesticated. In my domicile, independent and cut off from the outside world. Except for the Internet, which IS the world, really, so...notsamuch.

Anyhoo, moving on...My first sip of coffee today was too hot. I just burned the hair off my tongue. I hear you saying, "There is no hair on your tongue."

To which i respond, "Not Now!"

See, this happens frequently. You'd think I'd learn. The definition of stupidity is doing something the same way and expecting a different result. . .some say that's the definition of insanity, but I think it fits stupidity better. Insane people do much more interesting things, and sometimes I write about that too. But I don't consider myself either stupid or insane, so there has to be some other reason why I have burned my tongue on coffee more than once.

Masochism?
No. I don't like pain. I don't even like spankings when they're sexual. (Freak! stop hitting me! You're supposed to be trying to bring pleasure, fer chrissakes!!)

So the best explanation I can come up with, is that I'm forgetful. I think i wrote a blog about that before, but....not sure. Note to self: take more Ginkgo Biloba.

I'm uncertain as to how this current burning happened though. Maybe it had something to do with the release of heat from my cup since I put it in the microwave, because I cleaned the skin off the inside of it (residue from yesterday), and then imagined all the germs one can get from swishing around a sponge on a stick, after it has been swishing all over everything else in the kitchen...I was reminded of that compelling and oddly disturbing commercial where the housewife (sorry, Domestic Engineer) was gleefully wiping down her kitchen with a raw hindquarter of a chicken. Point taken. (Who says we are immune to advertising?)

So I put the mug in the microwave, soon followed by the sponge-on-a-stick and the dishcloth... because I read on Web M.D. that nuking wet sponges and dishcloths in the microwave for two minutes, destroys almost every germ known to woman--99%, according to the study. So of course, I had to put the coffee cup in the microwave too, since it had been contaminated by the germy dish- sponge- on- a-handle-acting as-a-raw-chicken-leg.

I swear my coffee tastes a little different than normal.
Less germy, maybe.

Still, my cup runneth over...into my mouth. Or onto the floor. I'm always spilling it...either way, time for refill. Or as I prefer to call it, another brain infusion.

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*Domestica ^(tm) is one of my past websites, which i intend to resurrect at some point in the near future.

Coffee, Stupidity, Insanity & Germs

Silk Purses from Sow's Ears

My best friend holds that distinction for many reasons, not the least of which is, she manages to teach me how to find opportunity in adversity.

During this recent challenge, though I approached it as I always do, by getting information and understanding what I really had to face, (and what I didn't)--in seeking the truth--I was very proactive about tackling the situation. But within that mindset, still lived my tendency to allowed myself to be beaten down by repetitive ideas...like the idea that my life was on hold and there was nothing I could do about it.

So Justi and I were talking on the phone (which we do several times per day) and in speaking of the delays in my move to Colorado, the obstacles...i worked myself into a lather and heard myself say, "If i have to stay in this situation much longer, it's going to kill me." I think she took that to mean i was suicidal, and that wasn't the case. I have been through that dark night of soul and and have come to a conclusion that precludes taking my own life. I said "I don't want to die, I just don't want to live like THIS." That's an important distinction. But for whatever reason, my friend thought I was fearful that I would become suicidal, so her skill of making a Silk Purse out of a Sow's Ear kicked in.

She began to form a plan that would get me to Colorado. We discussed the details and at the end of it, I realized she was right. I could go. I could get there by August 1st. I would have to make a different set of decisions and let go of some old ideas, as well as some material possessions.

That was the first pertinent point: are these THINGS more important than my sanity or my happiness? Well of course not. So if I sold, gave away or tossed most of my stuff, the costs would decrease substantially, because I could drive there in my Blazer, pulling a U-haul trailer instead of dealing with a truck and auto transport. And, as it has happened several times before, i realized i was also maintaining a paradigm that was no longer supported by the details. I've written about this before. It's that tendency we have to hold onto our ideas about how things are, when things have changed since that assessment was made. We have to go back and look at the details that brought us to that conclusion and ask ourselves if those details are still true or even still exist. If they don't then the assessment of the situation must change, because the ingredients have changed.

One of those details -the most pertinent one--was that i no longer had a crappy undependable car. I had a really nice Blazer. With more room inside, and a luggage rack on top, and a TOWING HITCH. So the necessity of an auto transport, and thus, a TRUCK to pull it, meant more costs. If that was no longer in the paradigm, then the costs were less, which helped make it doable. Then we went through my budget spreadsheets and added up what I would have over the next few months and what i could generate by selling many of those things that kept me tied to this location. This created a possibility where there was none. And all I had to do was let go of some ideas and some material possessions.

So I am moving Aug 1st. Traveling light, but certain that my smile will become bigger and bigger the closer I get to Colorado.

I love my best friend.

Silk Purses from Sow's Ears

Herniated Disco: Necessary Scissors

"It's hard to separate our feelings of obligation from our own healthy choices...bottom line, people do what they do. If they don't want to do it, they won't. If they did it with strings attached, they shouldn't be surprised when someone has scissors, and knows how to use them."

The above quote is one of my own, and appropriate for this post. The scissors necessary in this case have to do with a certain friend who has let me down one too many times. I have high standards for the people I consider my close friends, but i also know how to forgive when warranted, and the value of compassion and second chances. But there are no more Get out of Jail Free cards for this friend.

I mentioned her most recently in a previous Herniated Disco post...she was the one who was coming to help me in my time of greatest need. She was going to live in my home for free and be around when I needed help during my recovery. She was going to attend the nursing school here--a goal she claims to have had for a long time, and for which she is not only suited but has lengthy practical experience for since she has worked as a CNA for a long time. She was also going to move to Colorado with me and start her fresh life there. Not only did she not do any of that. But she just abruptly stopped calling. Mind you i live alone and my best friend is two hours away and could only get away from her 15-hour a day, 6 or 7 day per week job to help me once a week. (But my best friend called me several times a day). Here I am, laid up in bed, in excruciating pain, all alone, and she goes off the grid. (I also had a bit of a setback because i had to go get a box of kitty litter in and down the stairs, and also dump a pan that had gotten too full, and I think that's what caused my disc to regress to where it was three weeks ago...this was the sort of thing she had promised to do for me when she got here.)

Now, this silence isn't new for her. I wasn't concerned for her well-being. This is a pattern she has. She'll appear, asking for my advice--usually about a relationship. About the last 30 times it has been about her most recent girlfriend. THe one who turned out to be abusive and quite literally mentally ill. Long story short, my friend continued to go back to the relationship even after repeated epiphanies about why she should not, and thanking me for my counsel and agreeing with my assessment, etc. Back and forth, like a yo-yo--swearing she's DONE with the girl, DONE with being mistreated, and all fired up that she'll finally start having some self respect, and then there will be a long silence and she'll reappear, having gotten back with the girl, and then experienced a new wave of issues, and breaking up again...and it will be OVER. DONE FOR REAL THIS TIME. This most recent one was the same relationship in which she asked for my help--asked me to do something on her behalf, and when her girlfriend verbally attacked me for it, screaming at me on the phone over it, my "friend" did not stick up for me and confess it was her idea. I finally just wrote her an email that was all about me trying to make her see, once and for all, how this pattern was going to destroy her life, and indeed had been destroying her life...I was firm, but honest and genuinely trying to help her one last time. She took the crazy girlfriend's side, twisted everything around and said some pretty hateful things back to me. I let it drop and assumed that was the end of it.

Then she came back later with her hat in her hands, the same song and dance, thanking me, telling me she was so sorry and I was right, etc, etc. Against my better judgment, I accepted her apology. I knew she was her own worst enemy.

Now this, with her emphatic pronouncements of helping me, all the things she could do to make me feel better, etc, free of the last crazy girl for a little longer. I again took her word. BUt here is the pattern again. She falls off the gird, stops calling, and I know that either she has gone back to the psycho girlfriend, or reneged again on her promises to me--or BOTH.

It might be important at this juncture to point out that she had done this very same thing before--giving me her word she was moving in--that was going to allow me to save the money to move to Colorado and get her out of the town she hated living in, and allow her to go to nursing school. And then weaseling out.

SO --i heard nothing from her for several weeks. Several weeks while I am still in a recovery process and needing the help she was supposed to provide in exchange for a free place to live; several weeks wherein she did not call at all, and so had no idea if I was better or worse or in the hospital, or DEAD.

Then day before yesterday, she started calling and I was just unwilling to answer that phone. She called about three times and then a few times yesterday. She left no messages. I know how this part goes and I'm sick to death of it.

I believe it's time for me to cut the cord. Not on the phone. On her. I just can't go round and round like this, and I have to know I can trust the word of my friends. And I also can do without the emotional damage that keeps her in bad relationships and bouncing back to me for advice she agrees with but never takes. I can't do it anymore.

Remember those Necessary Scissors?

SNIP. SNIP.

Herniated Disco: Necessary Scissors

Herniated Disco: Quantum Bungee

So I'm standing in the middle of the room, my T-shirt pulled over my head from the back, to bunch in the front, while I'm gathering my hair up to the top of my head, so that I can put the hair Bungee around it, so that i can apply Kinesio Tape to my neck...and just like that, the bungee was gone.

I continued to hold my bunched up hair atop my head, and looked around on the carpet. No Bungee. I made another thorough check to no avail; I even check my clothes and pockets, doing a little shimmy shake in case it just dropped onto a wrinkle, snagged on a protruding piece of fabric. Still no Bungee. And because i think nothing of talking to myself, I said aloud, "What the hell? Did it just slip into a parallel universe?" My cats (who insist I don't talk to myself, but to THEM) shrugged and were content to just watch the mystery unfold and to see how I would solve it.

I could not come up with an answer. So my next decision was to search for another Bungee. I dropped the hold on my gathered hair, and then Isaw it. It was around my wrist, like a tiny black elastic bracelet. Now, how did I NOT feel it roll onto my wrist? And yet, I have frequently looked all over for my pen, or my car keys and later found them. IN MY HAND.

I regathered and Bungeed my hair, and chalked it up to more evidence that just because I can't figure something out, doesn't mean there's not an explanation; and just because it did not go into a parallel universe, it doesn't mean there isn't one. Or two, or three. Or an infinite number. Regardless, I just hope that if I fall into one of those universes during my meanderings, they have plenty of Bungees.

Herniated Disco: Quantum Bungee

Herniated Disco: How the Bleep Do YOU Know?

Have been using affirmations lately, trying to have some control over my healing instead of feeling so victimized...been chanting those when i go for walks...and been watching my thoughts and trying to be positive.

My Netflix came yesterday with "What the Bleep Do We Know?" --I've seen it before, but am revisiting all kinds of ideas, hoping to find help...I watched it last night and want to watch again today. Trying to be open to anything that might help me heal from this, and from the emotional damage I've had for a while now...decided i should give the 'thoughts are things' and law of attraction stuff another try--not because i believe all of it, but because maybe i dismissed all of it when i should have only dismissed part...anything positive in my life right now can't be bad and might help. So i was about to watch it again and it wasn't going back to beginning so i had to stop the whole disk to restart and noticed that on Larry King, right there on the channel it happened to be on, there were four of those people from that film--talking about THOUGHTS ARE THINGS and how we create our own reality, etc. I could not ignore the synchronicity of that.. SO listening to those interviews, and will also watch the movie.

Here's the thing: While I am aware of scientific eividence to back up certain things like the benefits of positive thinking, and the mind-body connection, Belief systems predicated on schools of thought like "The Secret" and "The Law of Attraction" often omit any evidence for those beliefs--just as all religions do. When these various LOA gurus make comments like "We are vibrational beings in a vibrational universe, and we can create our own reality.." My first question is "Based on what evidence?" I know that we are, at our most reduced level, made of atoms. And i know that atoms vibrate. I also know that according to the infamous double-slit experiment, that molecules can be two different things, and in two different places, simultaneously. The mind-bending and bizarre field of quantum mechanics is often only understood by the theoretical physicists who study it, and so lends itself to a healthy dose of mumbo jumbo from laypeople; thus, I feel it is easy for those gurus to capitalize on it, take advantage of the confusion, and appear to be both wise and crazy--just like those molecules in the double-slit experiment.

Herniated Disco: How the Bleep Do YOU Know?

Herniated Disco: Motivations & Ruminations

Tried to stay positive today but had a hard time. A long-time fear which has simmered on the back burner for some time, is now moving toward the front burner. I was thinking about what it might mean...this situation...I intend to do wholeheartedly, start to finish, the steps outlined in the book by Dr. Daulton, when I have all the "ingredients" in place, but if the methods don't ultimately heal me, then what? I had this sort of sick feeling every time i thought about surgery. I don't know if it's just my inherent fear of surgery, in and of itself, or if it's an intuitive warning. I just cannot see how it would be a good decision because what i would deal with after that (and before/during) would more than likely cause even more problems and deny me any quality of life; whereas with the more natural approach, i at least have a chance at regaining some pain-free mobility, even if it takes longer than normal. Maybe it will even take 6 months. A year. I would still do it, because in the long run it's better for me. And all this will likely push the move to farther in the future, which makes it doubly frustrating since everything I've tried to do to make the relocation happen has failed.

But the deeper issue is about pain and immobility. If I am in moderate to severe to unbearable pain all the time during this process, then this is obviously a huge obstacle. Though it would seem I can still write and do my computer-oriented tasks, and lie down whenever i need to...I would not be able to write at my desk, or shop, or clean the litter boxes, etc., because these things make the pain worse, and pain medication might help, but it renders me incapable of driving or even functioning well; to say nothing of the specter of becoming dependent on it, and it endangering my organs eventually. How long would i be able to hold out if I continued to have severe pain? How long before I would just want the pain to end-- Once and for all?

When I think of how dismal my immediate and near future might be, I am then flung into despair, and more fear, and stress. I have so many things i want to do, see, experience; so many more books to write, art to create, music to record, friends to make and ultimately, dating and partnership. All the things that make my life worth living. How long before that pain and suffering leads me to desperate acts? How long before I am begging to make a deal with the devil? Unfortunately, I don't believe in the devil, so once again, it's an option that does not exist.

I suppose it makes little sense to be afraid of death. Death is the Grand Oblivion. To reach it means to reach perfect nothingness. What i am really afraid of is suffering. And, perhaps oddly, I'm also profoundly afraid that my life will be cut short or damaged to the point where I will not get to have those things I have sought for so long; ego aside, it would be tragic for me to be prevented from reaching my goals. I have so much to give. My creative endeavors are the closest thing to a purpose I have. What about all those unfinished manuscripts, unwritten songs or recordings, unpainted pictures, unmolded sculptures? What about all the valuable lessons I have learned, the wisdom I have accumulated? What good does it do anyone else, if it isn't ever shared? So death or incapacitation seems more fairly visited upon those who contribute nothing, or those who contribute evil in any of its forms. But this would imply that Life is fair. And most adults understand that fairness is not something Life offers us. I am far more rooted in the NOW than ever before, since releasing my hold on religion and belief in any gods. This makes my life even more precious. I don't have that false reassurance that I will either be rewarded or offered a better life next time. This life is all I have.

My spirits got a much needed boost by--of all things--going shopping. Bought mini trampoline and therapy ball for the Daulton program, and groceries, *ibuprofen,* *shiatsu neck Massager,* etc. But the boost came when I realized throughout my shopping, that the usual nerve pain didn't appear. In fact, there was little difference between how i felt when i went in and how i felt when i came out. Even carried in all the perishables, and put them away and STILL didn't feel worse. This is encouraging. Since i know the nerve pain comes from impingement, I am a little excited that maybe the impingement has either worked away from the prolapse, or the prolapse has shrunk a bit.

Herniated Disco: Motivations & Ruminations

Herniated Disco: Lies & the Lying Doctors Who Tell Them

I am on new meds and using neck brace and neck pillow and things are doing better. I also just discovered yesterday that the neurology doc LIED to me. I'm about to go after him through certain other channels at the VA. But he told me surgery was my only option and didn't even mention other treatments. I have since found those resources and am pretty pissed that he just decided to tell me that surgery was best for me--he has a responsibility to tell me ALL my options. I was being railroaded. Now I've got up to 6 months to do other things that 95% of the time solves the problem. Can't tell you how infuriated I am. But glad i didn't cave in and believe him.

I have felt a lot better the last two days, with minimal pain. Just the few changes I made as suggested on medical sites has given me that...So I've got everything i need near my bed, including my computer, so that i can still do research and take care of bills and my writing and everything in the meantime.

And a friend of mine is interviewing for a job up here and is planning to move in with me. That will help us both, as I desperately need help, and she desperately needs to get out of the area and away from the people in her life there, and wants to start nursing school. There's a good one here, She also says she's moving to Colorado too at the same time I do. It was so nice to hear someone say they were going to be here to help me. It's been so hard and I've been so emotionally and physically drained. So...win-win.

Herniated Disco: Lies & the Lying Doctors Who Tell Them

Movie Review: The Descent

The basic premise is that a group of women go spelunking, and find themselves in grave danger (or, in danger of a grave) from a cave-in, followed by the presence of mysterious subterranean creatures who seek to make a meal of them.

This was not what I would deem a "b" movie, though it might appear to be so at first glance. It is within the horror genre, but leaning heavily toward thriller/suspense, as any gore or violence is not merely gratuitous but integral to the plot.

There are spoilers in this review, so if you don't want to know these details, stop reading, watch the movie and return here to see if you agree with my assessment, or offer your own. (Comments welcome).

I won't belabor this review with details of actress names or character names, and just cut to the chase, except when needed for clarity. There was some initial character development with the women, and past tragedies which figured into part of the plot, so I was please d to see this aspect. The British actresses were all good, and few things are hotter than a tough, beautiful woman with an accent. I'm sure that was for the benefit of straight males and lesbians. I must offer my thanks, since I am a member of one of those groups.

With proper foreshadowing that caves are pitch black and can play tricks on the mind, the Juno character admonishes the others to remember that they might see things that aren't there, become disoriented, or have other adverse reactions. Once the women have hiked to the cave, and descended into the abyss of it to explore, they traverse various tunnels and crawlspaces until there is a sudden cave-in which blocks their escape the way they came in. At this point, it comes to light that the leader of the women (Juno) had taken them to a cave other than the one they thought they were in. There was no map to refer to for an alternate exit, as the cave had not been explored and she wanted them all to be the first to do so, and have the honor of conquering it and naming it. Thus, they are in a pickle, and Juno is not quite their favorite person anymore. They resolve to move ahead and seek a route out of the cave, as they cannot remain where they are without suffocating or risking another cave-in.

sidebar: I was already chewing my nails up to this point because I had to watch these women wriggle through these tiny tunnels the size of a paper towel tube--okay, not that small, but suffice to say, this inspired great phobic shivers in me. This is the last thing in the world I would do "for fun." I'd sooner perform an appendectomy on myself with a spoon. One of the women got stuck, and panicked just before the cave-in, and that would have been my reaction. Panic. First, I would not have crawled in that tunnel if I had the leas t propensity to panic in confined spaces. Which I do. So I wouldn't do it to begin with. I would not have rappelled into the cave either. I would not have gone on the trip at all. But if for some mistaken reason I did go on that expedition, I would have taken one look at those tiny tunnels and said. "I'll be up-top at the campsite, sucking on my electronic cigarette. See you later." Then I would have climbed my frantic ass back up to open air. So anyway, it did make me wonder why the writer had that character there in the first place. I guess for extra tension, so she could freak out. IF that character were me, it would not be for extra tension, it would have been for comic relief. I've been laughed at frequently for my responses to uncomfortable situations.

Anyway. I was already freaked out and expecting the tension to increase, because I hadn't yet seen any monsters and I knew they were just around a rocky corner. This was accurate. Juno warned the others to be mindful (mine-full?) that their batteries were going to run out in the flashlights at some point, and they needed to make haste to find an exit from the cave.

Sidebar: if I were going spelunking, I would not rely on the batteries of a flashlight. I would have invented an illumination device that ran on human fear. That visibility would have been celestial. Like a Hollywood Searchlight, or a Supernova. A Quasar, even. Barring that, I would have brought several of those crank-up flashlights that don't rely on batteries, but on manual turning of a handle. I would have just walked through those caverns, cranking like an organ grinder's monkey. (Wikipedia defines "Organ Grinder" well, but adds, "The grinder would crank his organ in a public place..." I'm not sure I should align myself with something like that, but I was just trying to make a point.).

Back to The Descent: Shortly, one of the women was squinting into the darkness with her paltry flashlight, sure she was seeing a strange man lurking there. Any man who would be down there would naturally be strange. Her friends, of course, told her that her mind was playing tricks on her. I'm sure I'm not the only viewer who knew better, and yelled at the TV "She is NOT imagining the man in the dark! And it isn't a man!" The woman who saw the creature said that maybe he could help them get out. Yeah. In the stomachs of subterranean monkey-men (there's that monkey reference again..although these creatures were pale, I wouldn't label them White-Headed Capuchins.).

Sidebar: I think I just might have been more frightened by the idea of me being trapped in one of those paper-towel-tube tunnels, than by the subterranean humanoids...at least I could have some control over fighting them. And just like the flashlight issue, I would not be reduced to only pick axes. I would have brought an M-16, some tasers, blasting caps, and a machete. Throwing battery acid on them wouldn't have worked, because the fuckers were already blind, having adapted to living underground through some corrupted evolutionary process. (Perhaps the first humans to explore the cave evolved into these creatures...mmm...sequel).

Anyway, if you're stuck in a tunnel, you're stuck. And if there's a cave-in, you're stuck and squished. But if you have weapons and can move, there's a much better chance of survival. I'd rather go out in hand-to-hand combat, than being crushed in between a rock and a hard place.

One problem I had with the movie, like so many of its kind, is that it seems to be filmed too dark. My friend told me she saw all the details I missed. But she has a plasma TV. I reminded her that not everyone has a fancy-schmancy plasma TV, and they ought to make films for people like me, who can't throw their money around....Most of what I saw in this movie was figures with flashlights moving in the dark, and what I heard was screaming, and echo-location clicking, heavy breathing and grunting, slurping, and gnawing sounds. I might have to watch the movie again after I adjust the contrast on my television.

My first thought, after the movie ended, was that I would love to see a sequel about what took place after the horror of what happened is shared with proper authorities and a special investigations team returns to that cave to gather information. All kinds of possibilities there.

So, Overall, I would rate this film highly, if you enjoy movies that keep you mercilessly pinned down until it's over, while periodically shivering and choking on your soda and spewing popcorn.

UPDATE: okay, I looked at it again with adjusted settings on my not-a-plasma-TV TV, and I saw things I wish I hadn't seen. The movie is even scarier if you can actually see what's happening. Maybe I'm better off without a Plasma TV.

Movie Review: The Descent

Shadow Wings (poem)

Shadow Wings

Dress me in shadow wings
Flesh blends to one race of night and void.
But the shadows orchestrate the sun,
Thinking of the warmth and newness of the day
below galaxies of spiraling stars
Riding the amplitudes of darkness,
each bursting bubble
an infrequent upsurge of glamorous spells
Untenable and beyond comprehension.

Dress me in Shadow wings
Like a dragonfly who cannot produce fire
Colors scintillating into the ether
Weaved and flossed
Moon reflections reflecting.
Nothing soothes the night.

Shadow Wings (poem)

Rapture (poem)

Rapture

Silver shadows leap like gazelles,
lightning bends the dark,
the candle bends our will.
With every breath between
I dream of the dopamine
rush
your lips quiver
your hips rise
and we move beyond
vibrant eons of holy light.

Rapture (poem)

Novelist (poem)

Novelist


Rain gently pats the roof
Offering wet perception
And the ink blots spread
Into blurred patterns
This is reality.
Keys, the new paintbrush of linguistic imagination
Attuned to the heartbeat of silence,
The ecstasy of zero.
A thousand screams, a thousand pains
--for a moment, the horizon
lines with warriors for someone else's war.
The past is just the past
Forever with me
washed with the blue tint of winter.

Novelist (poem)

Troubling Mammaries

As I've mentioned, I placed a personal ad on Craig's List, since that site gets so much traffic, in the hopes of meeting local women for dates and friendship. I made my personality and intentions clear in this ad, and I still get offers that floor me.

The latest was from a woman who obviously did not understand what type of person I am. Her mail to me:

Hi, my name is Twila. I am 51 years old. shaved, lez, D&D free, VERY oral and VERY interested in your ad. I love to shop, dine out, watch chick flix, sleep-in on weekends, take long trips to nowhere, cuddle, eat ice-cream with a fork, and sex. Lots of sex. Mmmmmm....... I love toys. Lots of toys. You seem like a wild creature. I like that. I live alone (condo) in B.V., have a car and can host. I hope my pic isn't too bold for you. I'm just trying to pique your interest. So, if you like what you have read and what you see, get back to me with your "naughty" pics. I have more. Hoping to hear from you, Twila

The photograph to which she refers...cropped and censored so as not to offend my more delicate readers. (Wait. Do i HAVE any delicate readers? I'm not sure about that) Okay, then cropped and censored for the purpose of taste. Which is a quality that "TWILA" apparently isn't familiar with.


This picture wasn't "bold" it was slutty. Is nothing sacred anymore? What makes some women think that showing me their tits is a way to gain my respect? If a woman doesn't have more pride in her intellect, or ethics or being a registered voter, or even her contributions to the Humane Society, I'm simply not interested. For one thing, if she'll send this to me, a stranger on the Internet, what else must she think is okay? I'm impressed by confidence, class, intelligence and a sense of humor. Not the size and perfection of your mammary glands. I'm aware that females normally have two breasts. I have them too. These are not, however, selling points for getting a date with me.

Troubling Mammaries

Still Suckin' on that...

Still thinking about this electronic cigarette thing and how the Powers the Be are seemingly determined to undermine it. Here's a few ideas:

SCENARIO ONE: An American company forms an alliance with the Chinese manufacturers of the electronic cigarette, they build a manufacturing facility in the U.S. This not only creates a substantial number of jobs in a new technology, it decreases cancer and other smoking-related illness, and healthcare costs also decrease since the bottom falls out of that portion of healthcare expenses, and it helps American economy woes. That's not just a win-win. That's a WIN-WIN-WIN-WIN.

SCENARIO TWO: (in lieu of scenario one). The large discount stores and outlets order electronic cigarettes in bulk, which helps negate shipping costs from China, and that savings can be passed to consumers, just like they do it for all their other products.

The objections raised against eCigs are unfounded, and often downright lies. There are murmurings that propylene glycol might be dangerous to inhale. If that's true, then they need to ban the fog machines in all dance clubs and Broadway shows, and rock concerts, because that's what the fog is made from. And besides, if there is any question about the safety of propylene glycol as a suspension solution for the flavors and or nicotine in the juice, then vegetable glycerin can be used instead. It's considered organic. And from my own personal experience, it also produces more vapor and has a slightly sweet flavor. Combine that with my favorite chocolate mint ejuice flavor, and I'm a happy camper.

And nicotine. There is no evidence to suggest that nicotine, in this form is any more dangerous than the caffeine in coffee. We are so accustomed to understanding nicotine in relation to cigarettes and tar and all the carcinigens and toxins that exist in that form, that we might be overlooking the fact that it became part of an evil combination that is no longer applicable in the form of eCigs.

SO. What's the problem?

Still Suckin' on that...