Just Came Here To Use The Word "Muck," Dear Reader

But I kind of want the blog to be stories about me catching turtles in a pond in New Hampshire when I was about 12, and such.

Those painted turtles dove fast. As fast as turtle doves do dive...

You needed one kid, leaning precariously over the bow of the canoe; fishing net poised for a plunge into the black waters, or more accurately; the waters that always looked black because there was black shit at the bottom. The pond was surrounded by hills, forested with the kind of trees that shed their leaves every fall. 

They sink to the bottom and turn into the black "muck" that you can smell if you are swimming and get a nose-full of water and can taste a little bit of in the perch and pickerel and occasional "rock" bass that came out of there.

So, we couldn't see the bottom, and whatever depths of water the turtles were diving to, after dipping hastily off the bogs they had hitherto been sunning on, could have been 30 feet, for all we knew, because all you could see was black, when you looked down.

The canoe would be set at a slow drift towards the sunning turtles, with us sitting motionless, until such a time that the encroachment of a large aluminum object that must have looked like The Titanic to a painted turtle, created enough alarm in them -their alarms seemingly all set at the same sensitivity level, or perhaps they were following the cue of an alpha tortoise, if there's such a thing; or maybe the most skittish turtle was enough to spook the others by being the first to dive- that dive, they did. And pretty fast.

At that point, the sitting perfectly still part is pointless, and the kid in the rear starts to paddle as hard as he can, full steam ahead, With a good enough surge of speed, the turtles can be reached before they are more than the length of a kids arm plus the handle on a fishing net down into the blackness that looked like it was over your head, and always gave me the impression of us hunting turtles in octopus' ink...

So, if I come up with stories such as the turtle one, where I might be able to kindle the same excitement and adrenaline rush in the readers, as they vicariously plunge their nets into the blackness, aiming for a quickly diving turtle. 

And then, we would take them back to the little camp-house and race them against each other. That's a lame sport, by the way. 

There seems to be no way to motivate a turtle to either run towards some goal or away from some danger. They're probably not thinking so much about the lettuce and strawberries at the finish line but; is it worth sticking your neck out for, type of thing. They were recently snatched right out of the water, then swallowed by one huge-ass sardine, so; they're not always ready to race in that circumstance...

But the turtle is also not going to stick his head out to try to outrun any threat. Outrunning is probably not one of their go-to survival strategies. Not in their wheelhouse. 

Instead, it's going to pull its head in as a defense; and doesn't it suck if that's the turtle you have an ice cream sandwich riding on?

New Post, Here We Go...

What Would Jesus Do?

Oh, yeah, he would walk around preaching and performing miracles; I guess I'll do that...

Maybe my life w

S

ill end the same way as His did? 

I mean the going to heaven part. 

I think he descended into hell for the 3 days -he didn't go to heaven as soon as they stuck a fork in Him on the cross; I think he went to hell over the 3 days of physical "non-responsiveness." I believe he had some ass to kick down there; I'm not sure.

He would have been a first ballot inductee into heaven. He would have gone "straight to heaven," to echo speech that I heard growing up Catholic.

I think the alternative refers to those of us that might have to endure a stint in Purgatory before ascending.

This consciousness here, might be that Purgatory.

I was required to read Dante's Inferno  in Catholic high school, which I did. 

But, since I wasn't required to think about it critically to attempt to reconcile what Dante was trying to say with my own understanding of human consciousness i.e. my own life, that's all I did.

In my immature mind, I remember just coming away with an image of Paul McCartney as like a Las Vegas showgirl with ribbons on her (his) nipples and it would be his to eternally girate his body in a circular kind of vertical Hoola Hoop aspect, so that the ribbons affixed to the tips of her (his) nipples would keep going in mesmerizing circles. I was pretty sure that that was what awaited Paul in Purgatory, should Purgatory be like what Dante had in mind....

But about the resurrection of Jesus (and then I'll get back to some more topical subject matters) I think it notable that he "ascended"into heaven, after showing himself to be resurrected for probably 3 days, walking up to people in other bodies maybe, because they couldn't recognize him....

How much longer would He have lived after the resurrection? Would He resume walking around preaching and performing miracles?

He was 33, reportedly, when he was killed by the State and so, after being dead for 3 days, He showed himself to a few people but then went up into the clouds, instead of walking up the the guy's who were nailing him to the cross and freaking them the fuck out!

Anyways, I digress.

Standup Comedy

I've been having a good run with my second vocation of musician -no complaints here.

But I will soon be hitting the open mic standup comedy events around here and I guess it's time for that train to leave the station. I've been preparing all my life albeit without my knowledge.

I'm home brewing wine. 

And I have started a few half gallons of grape juice by putting a good amount of sugar and some yeast in the juice and then affixing a condom over the top of the bottle to allow the gasses to escape slowly through a pin hole made with a needle and to prevent any air from getting in. Fermentation of sugar in anaerobic which means no air (Alex Carter).

Ok, here we go, the joke is about how I use a flavored condom as the airlock to prevent air getting in and let CO2 (that's carbon dioxide, Californians) out.

But I have to put a pinhole in the condom or otherwise it would explode about 2 days into fermentation.

"Some of you are probably here because of a pinhole in a condom" is one joke that takes about 4 seconds. 

So I just have to fill another 59 minutes and 20 seconds and I'll have a Netflix special.

I found a 60 dollar bottle of wine on my way the the store.

I Take A Cab To The Grocery Store was going to be the blog post title with the "cab" being the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon that I found on a step as if "free to a good home," something that is SO New Orleans, but I digress. I found the wine because I decided to walk instead of taking a cab to the store. But I picked up the wine bottle and continued on to the store, taking a cab(ernet) with me to the store but not taking a cab to get there. I have over-explained that; a sure sign that I might be rambling. A 60 dollar bottle of wine is a manifestation of the "you get what you pay for" thing. People will fork out that kind of money (and maybe reconsider breaking their 7 years of sobriety and deciding to leave the bottle on the front step "free to a good home" instead of drinking it) only because it is just a little better than anything cheaper. It has the difference that makes the difference. 

So, whatever. I'm going to blog now I think ...again after 3 days of being literally in hades, and kicking some ass I humbly add.