Thursday, January 13, 2011

I've neglected the flock and I need a Brand New Vice

Well hello there all you dwellers of the post-primordial soup.  It truly is a wonder that all of our biological evolution has manifested its magificent self by allowing us humans to engage in social interaction through zeros and ones and advanced LCD technology.  DIGITAL HIGH FIVE!!!!  I would like to start off by offering a most sincere apology for not leaving any nuggs (nuggets) up here on the ole blog lately, and with that apology, I will also say that I wrote a draft of a post this past weekend, but I thought that it was crap, so I never posted. If you are curious to know what it is then I would suggest that you stop, since it was just more internal angst/emotional mashed potatoes that no one - including myself - really wants to hear.  As an aside, I know that I use a lot of commas and I absolutely intend to continue the practice.  ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Now that the obligatory preamble is finished, we can really get down to business.  I'm assuming that by checking on my site, then what you really want is more information about me, awesome me, great me, wonderful me, infallible me, visionary, revolutionary, incendiary, prophetic, wise, sagacious, cunning, raw, refined, incalculably fantastic, handsome....  ME!!!  Right?  Maybe I've erred.  Now that the self-esteem builder is over, or the post-preamble to the preamble, we can actually finally really get down to business.  By saying that though, I really must second guess myself, because in this space, there is no business and there is no agenda other than to ramble bamble for a few minutes and see what comes out; leave no doubt about it, that's just the way I write. 

So a couple of weeks ago, when I was still on the erl rig, I had a wonderful conversation with a distinguished fellow concerning quitting smoking, I actually mentioned him in a prior post when we talked about Vietnam.  Now I'll be honest, I've been known to puff my fair share if ciggy wiggies in my day, and I thoroughly enjoyed it most of the time; but on this fateful day the voice of reason beamed down into my stubborn soul and left me changed.  The point of this story is not to extensively discuss my reluctant cessation of puffin the tabacky, but to highlight the fact that my underconsumption of the devil water and the cancer sticks, compounded with the overall reduction in caffeine has left me without any vices!!!!!!!!  I had to quit the caffeine due to chronic high-blood pressure at the end of the work day.  So........ This leaves me here at this point and I've pondered and fiddled all day.... I need a new vice.  Somebody, please somebody help me.  I can't go through life without having any bad stuff to make me happy.  Maybe if I change my vice to only using monosyllabic curse words?  Or if I took up the sport of spite, then I could do positive things in life IN SPITE of naysayers?  I'm at a loss, because frankly, livin' straight just isn't any fun.  I could take up pottery, or painting, or maybe I could join a "New Horizons Vice-Free Support Group" so that me and a bunch of other depressed, lame-ass (monosyllabic curse word if you don't count the hyphenation), viceless people can bask in the glory of not knowing what to do with our hands on a constant basis.  A digression is in order at this point.

I had Christmas in the office yesterday.  What a joy.  Let it be noted that the foodstuffs mentioned hereafter are a timeless example of my immaturity and a formal example of what happens in the core of my brain.  I snack on triscuits like Joseph Stalin snacked on peasant farmers.  You see, my ole lady (mom) sent me a couple boxes with various and sundry staples of life: popcorn, triscuits, saltine crackers, grape juice, apple sauce, peanut butter, cereal, and letters.  Without said items, my self-esteem resembles the ticket supply at a Twilight premiere in white suburbia - zeeero.  So you can imagine that when I opened the box, my spirits were riding high, right?  Right.  Until I opened up the damned (monosyllabic) box and saw all the bugs and critters running around.  Fuck (there's another).  To make this brief, the box had been sent in early December in order to make it here by Christmas, but the genii (formal plural of genius, geniuses informally) who run the mail couldn't - wouldn't? - get it here until until Jan. 12.  The only reason that I finally got it was because of a generous act on the part of a co-worker who kindly picked it up from the post office on the way to work.  Otherwise, those boxes were lost.  Let's continue.  When I opened up the box, one of the apple sauce cups had been smashed and the remains had either a) been consumed by the critters b) been consumed by the critters and deposited as excrement decorations on the various surfaces within the box or c) been soaked up by the paper in the letters.  To further compound the malarchy (that word is funny), they jumped out of the box and I had to stomp their crunchy little shells under my boot, cuz that's how 'murica does it.  I continued the waltz by taking the heavily soiled boxes out to the smoking area (temptation is a b****) to throw away some of the goods, hilarity ensues.  When I did this some of the older dudes, obviously enthused by the intense marketing (this really is an amazing fact, when you compare the packaging on consumer goods from the Western/Major companies to that of some Eastern/less developed companies, you can begin to understand how the average man/woman/child of the west has succumbed to intense label bombardment), they were reaching into the rubbish bin to collect goods that I considered unfit for human consumption.  Of course in my great magnanimity, I duly informed these fine gentlemen of the risk that they would undertake.  All in all, after the the wildness of those moments, I sat down and busted open the cards and letters and willingly basked in a feeling that was nothing short of pure content and joy - letters from home really are wonderful.  Thanks family.

I'm leaving out quite a few other things, but I guess they aren't too important right now.  What is important is running laps around the housing complex and eating dinner, I need to maintain a healthy internal chemistry.  Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the nugg, don't hate me if I said stuff that would make you think less of me lest I think less of you, you know you don't want none of that.  Thanks for the comments on the blog, I've really had a blast posting replies, you guys are just making it way too easy for me to blast off.  Apologies if the writing becomes over/under-punctuated or generally confusing, I'm just trying to write fast and include a million thoughts running through my brain.  I'm out.  Please pray to God for a new vice for me.  Amen.


1 comment:

  1. Shit man, hilarious - yeah I know I sound like Paul. Anyway, fuckin' bout the vices- that's ridiculous. Man, when you get back stateside I expect a diesel in your hand and you best be smokin at least 2 cigs at once. As for finding a new vice in 'Nam or wherever the hell warzone you're in, well I'm not incredibly versed in vices 'over there.' You could start streaming 'Jersey Shore' but that's a vice I wish on no mortal. Shit's painful.

    Man- I took to flying and I haven't gotten my license yet, unless you count a student license. But I'll be private pilot certified in the spring. Fuck yeah. I'll fly the bros around yourself included. Make a note of that if you ever start a company/need a private jet pilot. Anyway, that's it.