I bet Jesus’ Halo doubled as a bug zapper.

I try to compartmentalize my blasphemies separately.

Fourth of July Playlist 12:23 AM

“In the City”        by  Joe Walsh Soundtrack from The Warriors

“If I had a Gun”   by  Noel Gallagher’ High Flying Birds

“Going to California”   by Led Zeppelin

“That’s the Way”   by Led Zeppelin

“Whole Lotta Love”       by Led Zeppelin

“Sunset Grill”         by Don Henley

“Sympathy for the Devil”    by The Rolling Stones

“Moving in Stereo”   by The Cars

“When the Levee Breaks”   by Led Zeppelin

“Save a Prayer”    by  Duran Duran    ~*Rio*~

“The Battle of Evermore”   by Led Zeppelin

“Stairway to Heaven”     by Led Zeppelin

“Walk This Way”  by Aerosmith  Toys in the Attic

“All Mixed Up”   by The Cars   The Cars      The Cars     The Caws


This was a great listening experience live and beyond . . . ~v~

/:^{|}     ~ EPDW ~

     Lennay Kekua, the Patron Saint of Invisible Friends. Hers was a complex life, tragically cut short, or not. She had her good side, I think, but also a very, almost-real dark side to her humanity as well.

She was practically a certified in CPR, an amazingly quick first responder and saved numerous pretend lives. She made time to visit and speak to the elderly throughout the country.  Some called her fearless in the face of controversial subjects, having no immediate consequences of any kind.

     She supported fake euthanasia as a right to pass into Nothingness, though admittedly from Nothingness.  But she also offered full-term abortions to other fake women in trouble, which is technically not illegal. She ran a fake puppy mill, smoked imaginary drugs–but did not inhale, and petitioned for stricter “Pretend” Gun Controls, which seems redundant.  Despite rumors, she was not part of 9-11, having not yet been “not-born” at that time.

It’s hard to get a grasp why these things happen, especially to people who don’t exist.  She had so much unrealized potential. She was almost TOTALLY unrealized potential.

I guess good & bad things happen to faux people. All I can say is, I feel honored to have known her. Or known her as well as anyone else who never met her. She will be mist.

My inner sense of my “work” and calling it Art has always been slightly jaded, skeptical.  The only way I can wrap my head around it it to suggest (or trick myself?) I am living sort of a humorous life-style. I try to see humor everywhere, anywhere, because there is so much at which to shake our collective heads. *collective heads?~ We need to laugh as much as anything these days. I also know that I am neither a scientist, engineer, agricultural innovator–those positions that might actually help the world at large in major ways. I’m wired to make snarky & stupid observations which sometimes get a laugh.

The mystery of the four letter word “Work*” (*Horrors!) So I have been living the Empty Nest life & preparing my house for sale. It’s not killer work, but if I’d seen a list beforehand of what I’ve already gotten done, I might have punted & quit long ago. Some of this work is even pleasant. Tranforming rooms, gardens, de-cluttering rooms has a certain amount of Wow! factor to it. Donating old clothes, books, DVDs & CDs takes time. Sorting thru old photos is one easy way to get side-tracked. The whole process involves getting side-tracked constantly. It’s not melancholy even a third of the time, but it is kind of a bitch. It’s like a controlled demolition. Emotional Demolition ? Meh, perhaps.

I can’t say for sure it’ll often be barbecues & drunken debauchery afterwards. I already try to mix that in from time to time NOW. But it WILL be different. I anticipate moving forward into a new stage, as I strike the set of the previous one. The work will be done, so I will look towards non-conformist lemming paths. I will be different too. I could file this under a heading “Mid-life psuedo-crisis as fodder for future stories/performing arts.”  None of this makes sense. ALL of it makes sense.

Check in a month or so and see if I’m just rambling on & on about cats. That Mittens! She’s a Doozie!

WOLFF-E!     /;^{|}

“Charming fellow seeks Bourban Glazed Lady for Uplifting Choices in Sensible Practical Support” or “Handy-Man seeks Time Share Maintenance Position” or “Vineyard Hobbyist seeks same for Gardening Project this Spring” or “Bee-Keeping Skills Work-Shop Sought by Novice willing to Learn”.  This is either eclectic or just lacks Focus. I grow Black Raspberries too, harvest near Late June / July anticipated. Oh, I write humor also, in case this all wants explaining.

I’m actively seeking, or willing to create an alternative reality via Comedic Escapism (Coffee), Music (Adrenaline) and the distinct possibility of H.E.A. (Happily Ever After-ism)

I woud like to explore most of these things within the ever-elongating span of my lifetime. #TriCentennialism #2076

I just wonder if Planetary Seismic Activity is ever going to surpass Human Social Issues (Politics, War, Starvation) as the leading cause of Global Scale Dirt Naps?

~ So, Yeah, Coffee! ~



The road is long
With many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where
Who knows where
But I’m strong
Strong enough to carry him
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother

So on we go
His welfare is of my concern
No burden is he to bear
We’ll get there

For I know
He would not encumber me
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother

If I’m laden at all
I’m laden with sadness
That everyone’s heart
Isn’t filled with the gladness
Of love for one another

It’s a long, long road
From which there is no return
While we’re on the way to there
Why not share

And the load
Doesn’t weigh me down at all
He ain’t heavy he’s my brother

He’s my brother
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother

Read more:  Hollies – He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother Lyrics | MetroLyrics