Who Cares?

I was trying to load an image to stupid Blogger just a while ago, but it was failing over and over again. I decided i didn't want to be in any hurry. I was just toying around. Also, I was starting to feel like a newbie. I don't need such aggravation unless it's an important photo. But maybe I don't need it, you know? That'll get me through today and maybe tomorrow. But after that, what then? Do I hit the roof? Might as well. Who cares?

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Rudeness (Who, Me?)

Eric Hoffer: "Rudeness is the weak man's imitation of strength."

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Benny the Bug

And The Girl With The Cunt

Something nasty, eh? Something obscene and nasty. Nope, I can't think of anything right off. We could talk about titties. But that's not obscene! Titties are Great! Almost without qualification. Let's see if I can think of anything else.

I remember years ago when I was first a street vendor in Austin. The other vendors were people I only knew slightly most of the time, though some were friends with whom I socialized. One young man named Benny sold jewelry out there; though he had long hair, I never thought of him as anything but a student or weekend hippie. He was just a young fool with hair and not exactly "enlightened" as I liked to think of the hippies.

Every once in a while, the street would be visited by a steeper grade of hippie--boys or girls who were living "deep in the woods" or in communes where the kids voted on everything and where people tried to "liberate themselves" from cigarettes or meat or alcohol or TV. One not very crowded day, a young hippie woman came along in somewhat drab clothes and wearing a loose skirt that rose up when she sat down on the sidewalk. She evidently liked the breeze, so she just sat there without concern for her exposed snatch. Benny couldn't stand it. He claimed that if she were beautiful, it might have been allright, but she wasn't attractive to him! So the view of her was just awful, according to Benny! I thought he was the ugliest thing I'd ever seen and she was nowhere close! I wanted to step on him like he was a bug, but then I realized he WAS a bug and there was great hope that somebody else would get him. I wonder if they ever did or if he's still poisoning the planet he's on?

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Del.icio.us Categories (Not)

I am dithering once again, you may note, with the del.icio.us tags! Though I am puzzled a little. I contacted Del.icio.us support, and they did help me, but only after they denied their tags were for categories. I got the impression that we who do so are misusing their product. But they didn’t get word to me soon enough. I’m already committed, dammit!

I assigned very few categories for TRS, so that you can bring up a page or two of Poems or Old-Poems or Fiction or Nostalgia, and wend your own way through the category. I don’t know if I’ll make very many more categories. At any rate, these were the important ones. If you see them lurking in the sidebar, that’s what they are. They aren’t hanging around to mug you and take your wallet, but just to take you to a place where you might have to pay a little attention. That’s fun, sometimes. If you’ve been reading my blog for a long time, you can ignore it all. If you only like my blog when I’m obscene and disrespectful, you can tap your feet and wait. I’m bound to come up with something.

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My Life So Far

What's coming up next? Is it fast, is it slow? Will there be reason to anticipate it? Or will it be like this? Oh, the doctor never says too much, but never forgets to send his bill. Things go on even if you wish they didn't. See that woman with the red dress on? She never forgets to shake that thing. Says she doesn't care a thing for sex any more, even though she wears the same curvaceous tight jeans she used to wear, only in a larger size. I'll be unable to ignore her, whatever she does.

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Friendship

Arthur Brisbane: "A good friend can tell you what is the matter with you in a minute. He may not seem such a good friend after telling."

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I DO NOT WEEP FOR MY FATHER

I cannot bring my father to life in writing,
Though I know some who have,
A mesmerizing sort of word dance
And I might invest similar motions with such dance
If only I could forget enough to remember it right.

I recently said to someone
Who was complaining of his father’s complaints,
“Why, my father was always fair with me,
he was always fair with everyone.”
I didn’t know that until the moment I said it.
But damn, it’s so true.

I should have my ass kicked for a lot of things,
I guess, but it’s too late to do me much good
Since my father’s been dead for 15 years
And everything I know about what he knew
Is just with me and in me and always better than me
And I must always remember it like that
If I'm to be any good at all.

rcs.
1st draft: 08/03/06
©2006 Ronald C. Southern

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Hell

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Can't remember who said that, if anyone. Bernard Shaw? The Bible? What the hell do I care? It's true enough. And some of us need to take it to heart these days. I don't have anything against candy; that was just the nearest road to hell I could find.

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Monkeys From Around The World

I recently added a number of blogs to the Intelligent Blogs list that most of you pay no attention to! I guess I finally added more new ones than I deleted, for my usual number is 10 and I see now it has swelled to 15! I used to have that many in the old days when I thought I could tolerate everybody. I have since learned different. I'm undependable, and besides being listed by me does not turn you into a Hollywood Luminary! Sorry. Can you imagine Bob Shieffer reading off the whole list on the next CBS Evening News? I can't, though I think it'd do us all in, really. Getting famous is dangerous if you don't get rich at the same time. So, those of you who read, take a chance on the new lunatics in my sidebar. Some of them are more fun than a barrel of monkeys; others, like me, are just monkeys!

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Disraeli Gears

Benjamin Disraeli: "My idea of an agreeable person is a person who agrees with me."

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