Proper upbringing

When I was a child I asked my mother
What she thought I should be
She looked at me and then she said
Whatever will make you happy
Be a carpenter or a farmer
Or a man who sails on the sea
She said I should be whatever I want
For the only one I must answer to was me

As an older lad much grown in size
I asked my father what would happen to me
I was told to become a man of conviction
Unafraid to become strong and free
A man who wasn't ashamed to do things
That all the world would see
He told me to be whatever I want
For the only one I must answer to was me

Mother and Father I thank you both
From you I learned I must be
A man who is strong-willed and stubborn
Unafraid to do things that people would see
I'm not a carpenter nor farmer nor man of fame
But a man who is proud and free
I am what I want and the only one
I must answer to is me

Love Potion Number 9.1

The gentle tinkling of the bell carried well in the hush of the dimly lit shop. Strange objects covered the walls: a stuffed owl stared back at me from the top of a large glass-fronted cabinet, there was a dried and pungent strand of some gray/green rope that I could only assume was a mummified sea snake hanging in the corner, and a round table covered with a colorful tablecloth stood next to some cabinets and a sink, and placed precisely in the center of the table was an incense burner that must have been made from an alligator's skull.

The bizarreness of the surrounds did not prepare me for the woman who emerged from the back room. She was a very short woman, no more than five feet tall, and well into her late sixty's. She wore a floral summer dress, and her hair hung down just past her shoulders. She was a bastion of normalcy in this exceptionally strange room. When she saw me, she grinned and I could see a flicker of gold crowns reflecting the light off her teeth.

She seated me at her table and gave me a cup of tea, and before I knew it, I was telling her all about Sarah, the long string of pleasant girls after her, and all the problems I'd been having for the past two years. She nodded sympathetically, and after my cup of tea was finished, she took it from me, upended the cup over her napkin, and proceeded to stare at the leaves as they sat there looking exceptionally brown and wet. After a moment of staring, she took my hand and pulled it closer to her eyes and carefully examined my palm, all the while mumbling to herself and gesturing with her other hand.

A knowing smile creased her face, and again I saw the flicker of her gold teeth. She hopped off her stool, winked at me, and turned around to face the cabinets behind her and proceeded to open every single one of them and pull out numerous unlabeled bottles of liquid from their depths. A powerful astringent smell filled the room as she proceeded to pour one bottle after another into her porcelain sink, and the clear liquids obeyed the rules of some strange alchemy and turned an inky black color. She grabbed a bottle off the shelf next to her, filled it with the strange concoction, and handed it to me.

I looked nervously at the bottle, but I'd come this far, and there was no turning back now. I nervously pinched my nose shut, closed my eyes, and took a drink. At first nothing happened, but after a few seconds, a tingling started behind my eyes, my knees went rubbery, and I put my hand on the table to steady myself. As soon as the world stopped trying to spin away from me, began to feel incredibly light and joyous. My troubles were gone, and I was hornier than a bunny on a week long Viagra bender.

I bent down, picked up Madame Ruth, and planted a kiss firmly on her old-lady cheek. I grabbed the stuffed owl, and kissed it. Hell, I even kissed the mummified sea snake on my way out the door, as the old woman's laughter followed after me out into the sunlight! Outside, people were on their lunch break, and I'd never been happier in my life! I kissed random strangers on the cheek, shook every man's hand, and laughed like a lunatic!

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to face an extremely pretty lady. I thought perhaps she wanted a kiss as well, so I bet my face to hers, and just as I kissed her, I felt cold metal close around my wrists and my bottle of inky black liquid tumbled to the concrete and shattered. I was pressed face-first against the nearest car, my hands cuffed behind my back, and then pushed into the back of the squad car. I spent the night in prison, and now I stand before you, your honor, charged with drunk and disorderly conduct and assaulting a police officer.

I get the urge to do things at night

Fingers itching, face a frown
Legs are twitching; burn for flight
Mind winds up as day winds down
And twilight turns to night

With fading sun and closing dark
Anticipation builds like fire
Flame blossoms from a spark
Driven by strange desire

Manifold creatures hide within
And struggle to be set free
Feel their legs across my skin
Hear their voices whisper to me

Mystery made by ticking clocks
Who knows what dreams may come
To life beneath this shroud of Nox
Breath is taken, wind-struck; dumb

Mooney's got some competition.

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Love Potion Number 9

Sarah had broken up with me nearly two and a half years ago, and I was still having trouble getting back into the swing of dating. I'd be out at dinner, having a pleasant conversation with pleasant woman in a pleasant restaurant and suddenly I wouldn't be able to think of anything but the way Sarah had smelled when she was happy. Or the way Sarah's eyebrow quirked upward when she smiled. There are things that can end a pleasant evening most...unpleasantly, and these most certainly qualified. My friend Adam had suggested that I visit an acquaintance of his who specialized in this type of problem, but I was very opposed to taking my problems to someone else who wasn't my barber or my bartender. It's just not the sort of thing a guy like me does.

One evening after a particularly disastrous night in which I managed to call a pleasant young lady "Sarah", which was most definitely not her name, not once but three times, I finally took Adam's advice. The next afternoon at work, I asked him to put me in touch with his acquaintance. Adam reached into his pocket, pulled out one of his business cards, and quickly scribbled an address on the back, and handed it to me. I put it into my pocket and promised myself I'd check it out that weekend.

Saturday morning, shortly after I woke up and dressed, I found myself walking down Vine Street with the early morning sun in my eyes. As I rounded the corner onto 34th Street, I pulled the business card that Adam had given me out of my pocket and checked the address one last time. Turning around I saw a small doorway behind me painted a gaudy shade of red that would have staggered a bull the size of Babe the Blue Ox. The spidery script above the transom read "Madame Ruth" in black. Nothing else. My trepidation was nearly choking me as I pushed the door inward and heard it hit the small bell that hung from the ceiling to announce customers.

A little bit of Nirvana

This has nothing to do with Kurt Cobain.

Leaving work in the afternoon, there is only one thing that stands between me and and almost straight walk to my car: a 4 foot high handrail poised on the lip of a 10 foot dropoff from the balcony of the aquarium's restaurant. Now, your Average Joe, being the law abiding conformist bloke that he is, would walk around to the stairs that are about 40 yards away, go down the stairs, walk 40 yards back and then go to his car.

I have discovered a simple, effective, and ergonomic solution which goes as follows. While walking out, sometimes carrying on a conversation, I will approach the handrail and jump into the air. While I'm in the air, I'll turn sideways, grab the rail with both hands, and finish my 180 degree rotation and plant my toes on the available 2 inch wide ledge. I'll then jump 10 feet to the ground, rotating another 180 degrees on the way, land in a nice soft bed of mulch and decorative shrubbery, and continue walking to my car, leaving stunned and shell-shocked coworkers in my wake. It takes me to a happy place that reminds me of running around Vassar at 2 o'clock in the morning and jumping off/over things. It's 3 seconds of Nirvana.

Wandering

So today I went wandering in the cow pasture behind my apartment. Yes, my apartment is by a cow pasture. There is also a small stream and some woods. My camera was taken with me and pictures were taken with the camera. Here are some results.


Also, a fence post behind my apartment. It keeps the cows out of my parking lot


You know it is spring by the purdy flowers that you can find sprouting ever'where.