Things you miss when you are very busy elsewhere

Hmmm, seems as I have been working hard to get my book ready for the publisher and my blogging has been slow, the visitors keep coming despite my absence. I have noticed there is still an average of 300 visitors a day hitting the site, and sometime here lately, the 200,000th visitor, in accordance to the StatCounter meter, dropped by to visit. I'm sorry for forgetting to leave out a cold glass of lemonade. Forgive me, won't you?

My navel is pleased to report that it is unchanged from the very last report and feels badly to have not kept up with its nightly duty. I'll gladly take that blame, however, as I have been using the computer for other uses, so it is hard for my navel to do anything while I'm here. Strangely, it still seems to feel it has to accompany me wherever I go, though, so maybe the blame is not all mine, after all. End of report.

Even the Mighty Eeyore has nothing on me

In lieu of several missed NNGR™s and such, allow me to explain that I am currently working on getting all the pieces of my book together so as to get it finally published. I have about six people just dying to read it, and several others who have promised to buy signed copies of it because they love me or want to love me, or something like that. I'm well, or not too far off of the mark if you consider everything I've gone through to get to this point of my life, and eating well. There are plenty out there whose lives are not going as well as mine, but I can assure you that could never work as hard to find fault with their lives as I do with mine.

With no apologies to Steve Martin

I guess I might just be a wild and crazy guy. I got myself a snazzy new tat. A little back story first before I give ya the 411 on the whole skinny. It seems my friend and I were waiting in line to go see this artsy fartsy cinematic what-cha-ma-call-it (not all that great, in my opinion, but that is a whole other story all together) and happened to be standing right in front of one of them tattoo/piercing salons. My Friend was chattering on about how sexy I'd look with this tattoo or that tattoo, you know how some people's mouths just run on and on. Well, my navel was putting pressure on me to do something a bit different than my friend's idea. It was twisting my arm pretty hard and threatening to tell about some the skeletons in that hidden closet behind my refrigerator ... so I finally gave in. I got a brand spanking new tattoo and my head hurts like ach eee double hockey sticks. However, I got me a full color picture of Bart Simpson's butt right in the middle of my forehead.

I really think it fits me well, don't you? I mean, I am always the butt never the bridesmaid. I also never pinched a bridesmaid's butt but that is a whole other story and a very boring one at that. On behalf of my navel, I like to say goodnight Gracie. End of report.

If I could only illustrate this point

My navel prefers Dr. Seuss. End of report.

"It's not going to get read tonight."

I have been working my fingers to the bone getting the final revisions done to Book One so as to get the manuscript in the editor's hands. I did my part and delivered the completed work to my editor this very evening and what do I hear? Read the title, folks. Unbelievable, right?

I am low on creativity juice, so I'm not going to bamboozle you with my brilliance on this evening.* I guess that means this post will draw a lot of comments. Look what the peckerwood scenario from last night did! Unbelievable, right?

My navel announced today that it's gonna become an astronaut. Unbelievable, right? End of report.

[Maybe I should have put a skunk on this one too.]

*You can't say I didn't warn ya, right?

The difference between woodpeckers and peckerwoods

Woodpeckers peck on wood whereas peckerwoods dream of doing something -- anything, that is -- that would bring them any kind of attention. Did you understand that this time, peckerwood?

this report stinks

Do what? You don't understand what contemplate means? Heck, its only three syllables. George, but you are really a peckerwood, did you know that?

My navel wishes to disassociate itself from this post, but I was a bit too lazy to take the word Navel out of the category. It's just going to have to live with the reference, I suppose. Just like ya'll peckerwoods will have to live with the shame of being a peckerwood, right? Now get out of there, you peckerwoods. End of report.

Strange voices on the breeze

It was quiet earlier ... one of those pre-summer days when the weather is getting a bit sultry yet still too early in the year for the air to be filled with buzzing bugs. I was sitting in the chair with my eyes closed, wondering why no further comments have come in on that neat little story I posted a day or so ago and, likewise, trying to come up with some idea what I could put down for this report. It was very quiet except for a perceived conversation that floated on the thick humid air. I could almost have sworn that all the dogs in the neighborhood were shooting the breeze.

It was so unlike the normal barkathon that goes on regularly, where the barking is raucous and follows the path of whatever irritant is moving around the neighborhood, whether that be children on scooters, stray dog, or prowling tomcat. I could actually distinguish different dogs, who seemed to be taking turns, as if conversing. I could almost envision them surrounding a green felt table playing a few rounds of cards.

My navel thinks I have gone to the dogs. I do suddenly find myself craving a Scooby-snack. End of report.

What unusually large teeth you have!

Today was one of those slow lazy days when you get hardly anything done you expected to have completed. Well, actually, I suppose just putting the final touches on this month's entry in the Blogging for Books contest was something, but the majority of that completely original story was actually written yesterday afternoon.

No, I was lethargic, hardly wishing to move from my chair as I purviewed the lame listings on 100 or so channels. Even my usual fall-back of the History Channel lineup turned out to be a bust, as I had seen all those shows just a week or two ago. Bored to tears, I cried myself to sleep and slept away a great part of the day.

I did, however, make a visit to a local* Chinese buffet that had only recently opened for business. Regrettably, I found the food to be overcooked and barely warm. I surmised it had sat in warming trays since George** only knows when. I can truly say it was the worst food I have ever eaten. It was so horrible, I found myself actually hungry enough to want to eat the fortune cookie. The fortune inside read: There is cause for celebration. You are the Walrus.

My navel is steamed, yet is nowhere near as stiff as the steamed rice at the Chinese Buffet. It has long believed itself to be the Walrus. End of report.

*By local, I mean it was in one of several neighboring towns within a 50 mile radius from the tiny burg where I reside.

**I suppose that Juan or Jose, the two wholly qualified Chinese cooks who were charged with keeping the food flowing likely knew how long those trays sat warming over the hot water below, as well.

What'll we find behind Door #4?

Hey ya'll. I was on a Holy Mission today. I was sent on a quest to find the Highway to Heaven. I searched here and I searched there. I think I searched most everywhere. Finally, I found it. However, there was a big sign out front saying it had been bought by some lady and was no longer open to the public without a ticket.

I searched the surroundings for some place to purchase a ticket and quickly located the site for the ticket sales. It lay at the other end of a very long line of people. I joined the line, but after an hour, I determined it had not moved one iota. In my desperation, I searched for alternative routes to my destination.

There was another visible path, so I left the line and followed the steady stream of traffic heading along this other path. Little did I know that I was traveling along the Highway to Hell. Even after arrival, I was a bit unsure of where I was. It was not until I found myself Dancing with the Devil that I understood the nature of my predicament.

My navel is complaining that the heat is turned up a bit too high. I'd feed it an ice cube to cool it off, but there are none to be found. End of report.

Someone's in the kitchen with Dinah

Well, I drifted off this afternoon and had the strangest dream. It seems I was living out in the Old West and, being a young greenhorn without the necessary callouses to do a real man's work, I got me a soft job with the railroad. No, I was not relegated to banging stakes into cross-ties, as that is also real man stuff ... I was relegated to the kitchen, where some gal named Dinah was doing all the work, and for some reason all that was asked of me was to sit there strumming on some old banjo, while Dinah sang Fee-Fi-Fiddly-I-O, just to pass the time away. Of course, I wasn't really pleased to have to get up so early in the morn, but for some danged reason, it seemed that darned Captain was always calling for Dinah to blow that horn, and no one could sleep with all that yelling and horn blowing going on.

When I awoke, I noticed I'd been drooling and that a pool of such had collected in my navel. My navel was displeased to have been involuntarily relegated to use as a receptacle for spittle. I was please to know it actually could be of some use. End of report.

It was just a small blip on the radar screen

I am unsure if any of ya'll believe in biorhythms and such, but I think there may be something to it. As you can see from the chart below, I am only just now starting to recover intellectually while I am almost drained emotionally. Thankfully, physically, I am doing pretty well, but due to my mental and emotional status, I feel exhausted.

My navel does not believe in biorhythms. It also does not believe in money. I is, however, obsessed with love. End of report.

It never gets harder than this

No matter what I do or what I try, I never see any better results. Thankfully, the status quo seems to be sufficient. I say thankfully despite there having been times when I wished otherwise. What? You don't know to what I am referring? Neither do I? In fact, I don't even seem to remember what we were discussing? Where am I? Who am I? Why am I wearing my underwear backwards?

There is this little dimple in this big mound of flesh just below my chin that seems to be wanting to contribute to this message in some manner. What? It told me to write end of report. OK. End of report.

What would you like on your Tombstone®?

It's creeping nearer and nearer, day by day ... that dreaded 50th birthday ... qualification for membership in AARP. And, what's worse than turning 50, is wearing those 50 years draped over your brittle bones like so much sack cloth ... stained sack cloth. I have been noticing these strange blotches developing on my hands and arms. I remember seeing odd splotches on my ancestors, those really old ones who used to pinch my cheeks when they were still pinchable. Alas, I have gone from being a little cherub who hated to get his cheeks pinched into an old crone who loves the feel of smooth skin on his fingertips. One who loves to apply subtle pressure to supple young muscles.

Come here, young'un. I need some cheeks to pinch.

My navel disagrees with my age assessment. It thinks of itself as a spring chicken. I do admit that the area surrounding my navel is spongy like a spring chicken, or springy like a sponge chicken, or chicken like a springy sponge.* End of report.

*If you think this is strange, you ought to have a gander at last night's NNGR™. It was a real goose gas to create. It was it created while I was getting gassed. I didn't want to do it but I was laughing so hard, I couldn't stop myself. You're not mad at me, are you? Feel free to share your answer. ;)

What it is? per askance

Something wicked, something wild, something simple, something mild; Thoughtless people, purple pie, listen people, to my tale: life so easy can be dull, boring stories left to tell.

It's like plowing through granite to break into those deep realms of originality. Blurbs on nothingness tickle lightly off my tongue sans substancy. Searching, searching, searching.

Navel quixotically quizzical. End of report.

My bucket has a hole in it ...

and all my good ideas drained right out the bottom of it. Like the tears I shed when I learned of my loss, they ran down the hill in tumultuous rivulets to gather into great streams that surge toward the great ocean of knowledge. Alas, I'm drained.

My navel says that was a bit deep. I thought it was all wet. I'll leave it up to you* to make your own decision. End of report.

*Will the last person to leave the building be sure to shut off the water?

Facing down Billy the Kid?

You know, there is all this talk all the time about the demise of the Earth if we don't stop doing this or that ... and I say, why worry? If Battlestar Galactica has shown us nothing else, at least we now know that you don't actually need an planet to survive, you only have to be good at fighting Cylons.

This was not my introduction to Brushy Bill's claim to fame. I have always been a skeptic of his purported notoriety. It was, however, my first visit to the museum created in his honor. I immediately saw something that clued me in on a possible beginning to this controversy. There was a an old, though not ancient, sign that formerly welcomed people to the town which read:

Hico, Texas
Where everybody is somebody

I am not the only one to deny Brushy Bill's claim. See holes poked in Brushy's claim here. Also:

Tom Sullivan, a sheriff in Lincoln County, New Mexico earlier this month opened case number 2003-274, in which his office, with the cooperation of the state of New Mexico, will use 21st century technology to hopefully put to rest questions about what actually happened at shoot-outs in 1881.

Sheriff Sullivan says that DNA testing can prove where the body of the real Billy the Kid rests, and that Sheriff Pat Garrett shot him dead on July 14, 1881 in a house in Fort Sumner, New Mexico.

---

The project started three months ago after Sullivan visited a museum in Hico, Texas dedicated to Brushy Bill Roberts, who claimed in 1950 to be Billy the Kid. Claims by the museum that Billy the Kid died there suggests that Sheriff Pat Garrett shot someone other than the Kid in New Mexico and covered it up.

“That would make Pat Garrett a murderer. Now he’s our most famous sheriff — and a hero in my book — so I want to clear his name,” Sullivan said. - source

The Hughes story, however, is full of holes, as well. It seems there are other, witnessed accounts of Doc Holliday's death:

In May, 1887, Doc went to Glenwood Springs to try the sulfur vapors, as his health was steadily growing worse, but he was too far gone. He spent his last fifty-seven days in bed and was delirious fourteen of them. On November 8, 1887, he awoke clear-eyed and asked for a glass of whiskey. It was given to him and he drank it down with enjoyment. Then he said, "This is funny", and died. - source

This report was begun about 11:30pm on Saturday and completed more than 12 hours later. It seems that I had no sooner completed the initial paragraph than I felt a pain in my abdomen akin to having been gut shot by Billy the Kid himself. It seems that my system has been less than efficient and I had to employ a digestive assistant. I was up and down often during the night in order to monitor the progress. This activity and the accompanying gut pain highly irritated my navel, but nowhere near as irritated as it's close neighbor, who was highly inflamed as a result of this nightly activity. So now you know the rest of the story. Good day! End of report.

*Cookies, pudding, and some brightly decorated flip-flops.

**Hawaiian Ice.

The box of zingers is nearly gone

It is in the wee hours of Friday night ... near the witching hour and I am without a clue as to what to do. Well, actually ... I could ... just ... type lots of ellipses and drag a very short post out for awhile ... at least long enough that my brain can think up something humorous or inane for your entertainment pleasure.

Then, again, I could just stare at a blank screen until I fall asleep.

If I was a betting man ... I'd bet on the latter. My lucky streak is going well, so I have a pretty good chance of winning that bet. In this case, however, I expect that I have the inside track on the outcome of the event, as I am the man in charge.

Actually, that is not quite true. I am actually the man over there sleeping. This post was self generated by the blank screen. You didn't expect that lazy navel to lift a finger to assist, did you? End of report.

Who killed Kenny?*

Now, for the first time in several days, the lateness of tonight's report is not solely due to my procrastination. No way Jose. My DSL went down. In fact, it is still down as I am composing this report.

Allow me to disclose that I am doing some last minute revisions on the book in hopes of getting it published by Memorial Day. Thanks to my discussions with Mama Montezz at the 2005 Texas Blogger Bash, I have decided to give lulu.com a try. As I am eager to attempt my own promotion of this project, POD might be my best avenue for launching this endeavor. I am hopeful ya'll are all looking forward to buying a copy of Alien Attitudes: Alura Allen, Alien at Large as soon as it is available.

So, that out of the way ... let me get rid of a few dregs of thought I collected during that mis-timed road trip last Friday. Let me see ... I remember saying I didn't understand the need for quarter horses, as it seemed you'd need a whole one to actually ride. Yeah, yeah, boo -- hiss. I didn't promise these would be good. Hmmm, then I saw that the weigh station was closed and said I was pleased because I was feeling a bit bloated. Better? How about when I said that my Lincoln Town Car was designed to drive through town but to fly though the country? Yeah, I guess that one is kind of lame. Last one: First, however, you have to get the back story. It seems that my traveling companion was taking great delight in pointing out everything found on the side of the highway and providing a complete history. Finally, we passed a brand new school building. My friend said, "Hey that's new." I quipped, "Yeah, before they built that building, they had to hold classes in the restroom of that Shell station over there." Now that you know I'm a smart ass, what does that make you?

My navel is miffed. It seems that while I was busily working on book revisions on the laptop, the laptop was disturbing my navel's peace and tranquility. Guess upon whose shoulders that blame falls? Fine! Let's just see if my navel shares in the rewards when I reap the fruits of my labor. End of report.

*Hmmm, in retaliation for the death or murder of my primary connection to the outside world, I am temporarily renaming my DSL service, Kenny.

Is it safe to come out, yet?

I'm telling ya'll -- being afflicted with a summer cold saps all the energy out of a person. George, but I don't even know if Terri Schiavo is still "technically" among the living or not. In any real logical sense of the term, she ain't been included in such category for years and years and years already. Ain't that such a sad situation?

In other news, it seems that I have promised to install a Poker Buddies Blogroll on Read My Lips in the very near future. Among the BE poker playing bunch, it seems that where blogs are concerned, I am the Big Dog on the Block. As such, they are all after me, clamoring for a link on my blog. I never heard so much gushing over my being a Large Mammal in a long long time. Of course, that might be because I have been a Large Mammal for a long long time. In fact, I might just be the only Large Mammal who has remained among such ranks on a thoroughly consistent basis without being on the Alliance listing. Being on that list alone probably buys a blogger 50 links. Just how is that war going anyway? Who won: Glenn Reynolds or the IMAO group? I suspect the real winners are those hapless bloggers who jumped several levels in the Blogosphere Ecosystem merely by signing up with the Alliance. I guess I still ought to feel really proud to have been the first declared neutral in that inane blogger war. That's a strange stance for the Blogosphere's most renown Snarky Inaniac™ to take, I know, but that's just the sort of guy I am.

My navel was seeking to join the Navel Naval Alliance,

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original source

*It is a staunch dependent of any Buddha Belly stupid enough to give it a place to rest.

**It does, however, own a couple of bars of Ivory® bath soap, which floats.

***It was not really my momma. It was Alice the Goon.

****This statement was only made in jest and is no way intended to portray sailors in any worse light than they already deserve. ;)

It's all the fault of the sun spots*

My creativity curve has hit a flat spot without any means of navigation through the chaos that is my imagination.

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My navel is busting at the seams to tell ya'll a new joke it heard, but that's gonna have to await its learning to type for itself or my caring to assist it in getting it here for ya'll to see. End of report.

*That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Rubbing the Easter Bunny's foot

this report stinks

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My navel cheats. It palms aces. End of report.

*Who has promised to come kill me if I call one more time to see if she has remembered anything.

**An amount which I don't have -- putting my kneecaps thereby in peril if there be any truth to what you see on TV.

"Are the reports always late on the weekends?"

Frequent reader and rare commenter, Bluto*, asked me the question in the above title via email. I can understand the concern. It does appear that over the last couple of weekends, this supposedly nightly report has not been posted until way into the morning of the next day. I could just screech, Jeez, it's Easter! Give a man a break! but you deserve more than that.

OK, yesterday was a very cold and rainy day. I had zoo duty and was required to drive around five adults and three just barely pre-schoolers around for 3 hours in a open van. It was a miserable experience and I caught a really bad case of the blue flu.** No, not really, but the experience did zap the creativity out of me. About the only smart ass remark I could muster at last evening's Fossil Rim Wildlife Center Docent/Volunteer Banquet, upon noticing that all of the award certificates bore the year 2003, was to remark to the person responsible for printing said certificates aloud for all to hear: "This has to be the best 2003 Awards Banquet, ever!" Since nearly everyone else had received the same sort of mis-dated certificate, the room roared with laughter. The responsible person offered to replace all the certificate, but, being the sort of people we are, we all agreed the mis-dated certificates sufficed.

Of course, to add the cherry to the top of this meek anecdote was that the same responsible party had also invited a professional photographer to the event so as to have shots taken of each docent/volunteer holding up their certificate. She lamented about how that idea was now ruined, but you'll never guess who saved the day by suggesting that everyone just hold up their certificate is such manner that their finger covered the offending "3" in the date? I'll never tell.

My navel pouted because it was not recognized for its efforts by anyone, including myself. I did not think it was all that noteworthy to mention that a dropped piece of animal feed had been caught by said navel during one of my tours last summer when I wore an old T-shirt that was a bit too tight and did not fully conceal my Buddha Belly. My navel may have cried all night. I don't know. I slept soundly. End of report.

*He reads from time to time to keep tabs on Popeye.

**Well, not the traditional police-type blue flu, but the chilling condition where both your nose and toes have turned blue.

I have an excuse -- a really good one

I arrived home last evening from my impromptu road trip to Oklahoma raring to post the epitome of epiphanies that popped into my head along my route. It was a million dollar idea. Driving along, of course, I could not write it down, so I asked my companion, whose memory is renown, to remind me of it at a later time. When the time came to regurgitate my bright idea and place it electronically upon these pages for all to see, it had concealed itself in one of the myriad of dark places in my memory banks. My friend, as well, had no inkling of it, either.

I refused to give up and thought if I could only lay back and close my eyes, it would come to me. The Sandman had different ideas. Alas, awakened with a fresh mind, I have no recollection of great parts of yesterday. I doubt I'll ever dredge up whatever it was that I lost.

Of course, the loss of a grand idea was not the extent of my bad luck yesterday. See, the only purpose of the trip was to see Turner Falls.

Always one to see the silver lining in the cloud, I recalled passing a casino or two, and thought, heck, as long as I am here, I might as well try my hand at some live Texas Holdem and see if I was really as good as I thought I was. Well, I experienced a major run of bad luck where poker was concerned. It seems that they don't play poker in casinos in Oklahoma. One concierge did state that they planned on having it as early as May. I told him we'd likely have gambling in Texas by that time.

There was naught to do but come home with my poker itch unscratched. I guess I'll have to try to drum up another game down in my basement.

My navel really enjoyed the trip to Oklahoma. It is so materialistic that it only desired a souvenir of some sort. I bought it a rubber tomahawk at a Truck Stop. End of report.

Wiping egg off my face

Egads! What a day! Here and there and back again. Interesting speech before a group of Rotarians regarding my publication efforts on the Alien Attitudes.

I hit the city limit signs on the northeast end of this tiny town when I was accosted by several civic dignitaries. Steadily marching toward me, they cornered me and laid down the law. It seems that I am now officially banned from taking part in this year's Easter festivities.

It appears that while readying the meadow used annually for the site of their civic Easter egg hunt, several of the eggs that I had prepared and hidden as a part of last year's egg hunt were just now found. It seems that no one appreciates my unique Easter treasures. Now I am wondering what to do with those hundred and fifty hard-boiled eggs I currently have pickling in jars of vinegar. I mean, who doesn't enjoy a nice pickled Easter egg?

My navel thinks things are better when I'm pickled. End of report.

Hot tamale! I had the whole enchilada

So, here's the deal. It was Wednesday, all day long and a long day it was. It started early and ended late. I am tired, but then again, I guess I am over the hump of humpday. Friday is Good Friday, and a goodly portion of the population gets that day off. I guess that is good. It seems that some of those people would like to come see me on their day off so I don't have the day off.

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As things often go, there was some extensive discussion about where we would dine. Despite my objection, the consensus directed us toward Hooter's. One guy ordered a burger and another dined on buffalo wings. One guy ordered a mess of raw oysters. I, myself, had Mexican. Her name was Linda. She was delicious.

Not really. I just have to fill this space with something creative. It was a long, tiring day and that was the best I could create. I hope it was enough. I don't want Raven setting me on fire.

My navel has been designated as tonight's Official Wicked Stepmother.* It asks me to remind you to eat your apple. End of report.

*Don't ask.

In the immortal words* of Alice the Goon ...

Despite my utmost efforts, I was unable to channel anyone's thoughts or anything as creative as last evening's NNGR™.** Maybe it's all due to today being Tuesday and, having eaten a lot of hamburgers during last week for which I promised to pay for today, I found myself a little

Speaking of wimpy, you ought to see my navel. Have you ever seen a body part so pathetic it would not lift a finger to protect itself? It's disgusting. End of report.

*There will be a prize of some sort or another of absolutely no value whatsoever awarded to anyone who can come forward with any known statement ever made by Alice the Goon.

**I would have linked it, but then it is the post just below this one. I purposely did not post anything so as to allow as many of you to see that particular post as possible. I also requested that Moona not post anything, as well.

On some wholly different plane of existence

Hi. My name is Brian, with an "i." I am 32 years old and am totally alone. I am often surrounded by groups of people who stare at my body but don't see me. I quit "living" that day back in 1977 when my mother accidentally ran over my head with her car. I was four. Despite extensive damage to my brain, my heart and lungs continued to function normally. My poor despondent mother is so racked with guilt over her negligence that she refuses to allow doctors to disengage my feeding tube. Several doctors, priests, family members and friends have urged her to let me die. An equal number, if not more, of them urge her to allow me to live on. I can't speak for myself. I am stuck somewhere between the decaying emaciated worthless body laying on that hospital bed a few feet below and the bright light I can see overhead. I can feel its pull. Joyous music and mirthful laughter beckon. "Momma? I want to go now and play at God's house. Can I? Huh? Huh?"

I am sure most of you creators know that you sometimes have no control over the flow. I know the seeds of this short piece were planted when someone was asking me to feel a bump on their head. I, of course, being less than expert on the layout of any cranium other than my own, felt nothing out of the ordinary. I then asked them to feel the crown of my head where I have a pronounced bump, at least to me. No one else ever seems to notice it, so I suppose it is nothing out of the ordinary, as well. I was asked, How'd you get that? Being the smartass that I am, I blurted out, I got it when I was a baby after my head got run over by a car. There was something about that concept that attracted me. I didn't immediately understand it to be connected to the Terri Schiaro affair, but does appear to be readily apparent after seeing the completed project.

Oddly, however, I only got a clear picture in my head of what I wanted to write while watching an episode of Psychic Detectives on Court TV. I admit that Brian's words easily flowed onto the electronic page. Could I possibly be channeling someone else's thoughts? Do any of you know this Brian, 32, alone, wanting to die? If you do, pat his hand for me. And, if it is possible to send anything back along the line, to you, Brian: Brian, my brother -- I do feel your brown* pain.

I suspect the reason for writing an actual story is due to discovering that I was not among the three finalists in this month's Blogging for Books contest. I was pretty proud of that entry. I kind of like the little blurb above, too. What do you think?

My navel is claiming to have beamed this whole idea into my head from some ultra-secret location. As if. End of report.

*I have no idea why I typed brown when I was thinking pain, but since we are somewhere out in the Twilight Zone already, I figured I'd share that with you instead of just deleting it.

Bellyfull of tomato sauce, the hard way

All weekend, they have been showing what they are calling All-American Comedy on Comedy Central. In accordance to what I have seen, All-American Comedy is anything dealing with the Blue Collar Comedy Tour members. I have to admit that from Jeff Foxworthy all the way down the line to Larry, the Cable Guy, those four guys each, independently or in combination with each other, are capable of evoking involuntary belly laughs from me on a regular occasion. I admire the work of a good stand-up comedian.

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I am, however, unsure of my material. Night after night, in this very column, I have performed a monologue, of sort. I suppose, in a way, that makes me a bona fide sit-down comedian, doesn't it? You do know that if you find yourself sitting there laughing as you read my posts, you are free to shower me with LOLs. Adversely, if it really stinks, you can throw vegetables -- virtual ones, of course.

If you are lucky enough to personally watch me perform and believe that my performance merits such, feel free to select an appropriately soft rotten tomato and take very careful aim at my navel. That will provide you a big round well-padded target area. I am sure you wouldn't want to do any real harm, would you? End of report.*

*What? No footnotes?

It was Saturday, then Saturday night ...

and then it was really early Sunday morning.

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I, myself, was actually prepared for all that occurred, including the violent physical effects of massive alcoholic carbonated beverage ingestion. On the trip up, I had advised Moona that I was planning on drinking a lot of beer and had anointed her as designated driver. She graciously accepted. As none of ya'll really know me, you are likely unaware that I rarely give up that position. It is usually I who lingers on the sidelines of the party drinking Dr. Pepper, straight-up with ice. I long ago decided there always had to be one responsible person in attendance. I could never see why that person should not be me. I have never quite understood why I feel that way, but that is just the sort of guy I am. However, this night, I wanted to join in on the merry-making of the inebriated variety.

Chris Cagle was performing. I didn't and still don't know much about the

I was primarily paying attention to the crowd, especially the lovely young lasses. Amongst the field of pert breasts and rounded derrieres, I caught a brief glimpse at a bare naked navel*** here and there. Despite my inebriation, I suddenly began to feel really old. When I'd flash a smile at some pretty little coquette, the look I'd see on her face served as a constant reminder. I could actually read their thoughts.**** Get lost Grandpa!

I guess I am old. I'll be 50 soon. I'll be eligible to join AARP. I guess I'll have to turn socialist and vote for Hillary. Being old does have its advantages, though. Not, I'm not referring to the discounts you get on meals and such. I'm talking about something much more important.

It seems that, at my advanced age, most of my brain cells have already been killed off. As such, hangovers never seem to be as bad as you expected them to be.

My navel was in attendance, as well. Understanding the oversight, the throng agreed it could come along for the festivities. It didn't drink, either. No beer, soda, or even a drop of water. That a pretty sober navel I have, wouldn't you say? Remarkable! Well, as Snagglepuss was fond of saying ... Exit, stage left.***** End of report.

*See, I really didn't pay any attention. I learned from looking at the posters on the wall that Cooder Graw is the name of a band, so I am not going to make any assumptions about Chris Cagle.

**Although I have some admitted memory lapses with regard to parts of last evening, I can literally admit I was nowhere close to being drunker than ever before. I could tell you stories, but they'd be boring like the rest of this drivel I create.

***I personally think that a navel with attached adornments is less attractive than in its purely natural state.******

****I guess having Brink-o-Link and RJ floating around inside my head has given me a bit of telepathic power.

*****He might have actually said Exit, stage right. I cannot fully recall. I'd ask Boo Boo, but he went off in search of a pic-a-nik basket.

******I also have a personal opinion that there are a lot of navels out there in the world that should never be seen, in public or otherwise. If you've ever been to a NASCAR event, you might be a redneck know what I'm talking about.*******

*******Participle purposefully left dangling.

The Report that was not there

Oh my oh my. What time is it? Did I ever stay out too late last night!! Having had three drinks over four hours and as well having eaten half a plate of cheese-fries, I left the party a bit after midnight. It was a really dreary long 90-minute drive back to the house. Traffic was light and the raceway was open. I just fell in line with the high-speed convoy that traversed southward on the North Dallas Tollway, then worked my way through the maze of dead downtown Dallas so as to miss the mix-master. South Dallas was dead.

After I passed through the no-man's-land parts of Southwest Dallas and the lack of convenient stops along Hwy. 67, I finally made a stop Love's in Midlothian. All I needed was to fill my cup with fresh DP, as well as disposing of the remains of the last cup in the appropriate manner. It really is hard to find a good place to relieve oneself right along the side of the road anymore, especially in the urban areas. What might have been a very routine incident got a bit hairy when I was leaving, as I had parked very near two motorcycles. I am acquainted enough with enough middle-aged biker club members to know when I see the real thing. The two guys that were tinkering with their saddle bags were not your average weekend riders. Bandidos.

Anyway, being the savvy Texas sodbuster I am, I knew enough to keep my head down and to avoid eye contact with those modern outlaws. Like three little monkeys rolled into one, I see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.

By the time I rolled in here --- all I was looking for was a tub of hot water in which to soak for a half hour before climbing into a freshly made bed. What I found was the same bed I had crawled out of the previous morning, musty and disheveled. I was too weary to do anything other than to crawl bleary-eyed beneath those two layers of goosedown* to hibernate. And hibernate I did.

Yep, I forgot all about making the Nightly Navel Gazin' Report™ last eve, although that live broadcast I did from the party could have served well as such, if my navel had been allowed to come to the party. You see, it was pouting on the day I decided to RSVP for the party and did not respond if I ask if it wanted to come along for the ride. As such, I did not include it. Not being on the guest list, it was not allowed in the door. I had to leave my navel hidden within a potted plant while I attended the blogger bash. And if you'll buy that ... yada yada .. I'm out.** End of report.

*As spring is officially approaching, I am hopeful one layer can be removed and stored for several months to come.

**Meaning I out of here not I am out of the closet.***

***Which in no way infers that I am in the closet.****

****Of course, that might be exactly where I left that hat for which I have been searching***** all day.

*****Remind me to tell you how I once found my eyeglasses in the freezer.

So, just how Lucky do you feel?

I was rudely awakened this morning by both of my dogs barking loudly at something. This is actually not a rare occasion, as I have likely previously reported. The weenie wolf barks almost constantly. I have learned to drown him out. However, Comanche only barks when alarmed, that being when someone or something is in close proximity to the yard surrounding my house.

Since I was still clad in my PJs, I peered out through Venetian blinds to see if I could spot the cause of the alarm. I was unable to find the cause of the alarm nor to spot the location of my dogs. I threw on my robe and ran out the front door, sensing something afoot that required my immediate attention.

I reached in and grasped the creature securely around the neck, pulling it near. I found that it was not a Leprechaun I grasped in my hand, but a rabbit. It was green, most likely, because it was sick. It began retching something from its mouth almost immediately and I dropped it to the ground. Laying there by my feet, it writhed and wiggled for a bit as my dogs circled, snarling and barking. I let them have it and retreated to my house to wash off whatever it was that rabbit spewed from my arm.

picture source

I went out a bit later for a fresh refill of DP and decided to go back to where I had last seen the rabbit. As chance would have it, I rounded the corner just as it was leaving. No longer green, the rabbit was climbing over the fence clutching something in its hand. It's a bit early for the Easter Bunny, I thought to myself. I was able to pilfer the object just as the rabbit slipped over the fence. I found it to be a box of cereal. Trix, to be particular. Trix are for kids, silly rabbit.

Personally, I don't like Trix. As I stated, Trix are for kids. I like Lucky Charms. They're magically delicious. And they have marshmallows. I like the green clovers the best. Just something about green clover shaped marshmallows that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Instead of pink hearts, however, I think it'd be a bit better if they had pink navels. My belly button thinks so, too. End of report.

Let's see your ante Oakley

Well, a couple of things became known today. Some of it is good and some of it is bad. Which do you want first?

Good news? Rin-Tin-Tin's worries are at an end. It seems that the jury gave that little boy he used to play with on occasion the Royal OJ treatment today. Kudos for justice. And if he had of been found guilty, I heard his lawyers were all set to claim he committed the crime before he was 18 and therefore couldn't receive the death penalty.

Bad news: Reading ya'll's comments is much more fun than playing poker, but since ya'll ain't commenting, I have been playing poker. Playing poker seems to sap my creativity. I had to get that off of my chest.

Moona is taking defensive driving - ONLINE - over dialup. She says it is slow and ----- boring.

My navel is on probation. It seems the gag order did include it, as well. I only received a stern look but was let off the hook after the judge saw how I had no control over how my navel behaves. I could say the same about my .... oh well, ya'll really don't want to hear about that. After all, this ain't the Nightly Asshole Report. Speaking of assholes, I guess I had better be signing off. End of report.

[ULTRA URGENT ADDENDUM: I felt guilty, like I owed ya'll something. I was trying to think if there was anything to add here about Bobby Blake, other than to remind ya'll that I forgot what his cockatoo was named on Baretta. I'm thinking it was Fred, but I could be wrong. Anyway, thinking about Robert Blake got me to thinking about Bob Conrad, which got me to thinking about Bob Crane. Then I remembered that movie I saw about his extra-curricular activities and how I thought that guy that played him looked a lot like one or both of those guys that played Darrin in Bewitched. I found myself recalling that, even at the tender age I was when Bewitched originally aired, I often wondered if you truly had to be a Dick in order to play a guy that wouldn't allow his wife to work magic so as to make life more enjoyable for everybody. I wanted to share that with ya'll before I forgot it. End of Ultra Urgent Addendum.]

Blowout special going on right now in aisle 5

Well, if my dirty shirt bothers you tonight, blame it on the brain flat I have been trying to fix these last few hours. Trying to get my left cortex inflated to the point where I could think clearly again was an excruciating ordeal. You see, I don't simply have book full of these reports somewhere in my library where I can pluck something from the pages and lay it out here for your approval on a nightly basis. Nope, I make this stuff up on the fly.

I often mix a bit of reality into my imagination to come up with some surprising scenarios. Oft I am the one surprised at the reactions I get from these creations. I never expected the amount of concern received today about how my dogs were doing after devouring the UFO pork chop as was described in last night's NNGR™ . I'll admit, right here, that the closest that incident came to actually happening was when I was busily shoveling pork chop pieces into my mouth while watching a documentary on UFOs. UFOs are always described as saucer-shaped or cigar-shaped. I suddenly decided that it would be humorous to write something about pork chop-shaped UFOs. After further contemplation, much of which was done while surrounded by the warm glow of soft candlelight, soaking in a tub of hot water, the seeds of the story took shape. What finally popped out of my head was then edited and reedited and reedited and reedited again until it eventually became last night's report.

Tonight, regrettably, nothing as ingenious as UFO pork chops popped into mind. Stressing about my lack of topic, I strained too hard and blew out my left cortex. I have, as I previously stated, repaired the damage and am now thinking again. I'm just not thinking all that clearly as yet. Such makes this a bad time to have to tell you about the gag order issued against me today.

A judge has enjoined me from mentioning the name of a celebrity who is currently in the news on a daily basis. Despite the fact that the actual reasoning behind the order was suspect, Judge Dredd's countenance, alone, compels my compliance and I sit here in my pajamas unable to tell you of MJ: the magical essence of the House of Noel. I might mention my encounter with the little troll in an attempt to cross the bridge today and the riddle I had to answer in order to get his permission to cross:

What is white that once was black, and sang ABC to you and me?

This ain't him

Truthfully, I'd love to tell you what I know about that strange looking creature who loves to sleep naked with little boys. Now, though, I'll just have to save all those lies until I'm called to the stand to testify. I'll swear to tell my side of the story and only my side of the story, whether its true or not. Who says you can't learn nothing from listening to John Kerry.

My navel had not climbed on board with regard to this production, at all, until that swipe at John Kerry. In fact, my navel was inattentive to anything going on inside my head for most of today. It was, instead, busily marching around the entire perimeter of my Buddha belly carrying a placard reading Michael Jackson is a pedophile. The gag order does not cover actions concerning my navel. End of report.

When pigs fly --- in bits and pieces

I personally witnessed a very unusual event today. It was a bright day full of sunshine and, having heard that cold rainy days are forecast for tomorrow and the next day, I was sitting out on the porch enjoying the warmth while I could. A shadow passed my face and I lifted my eyes to gaze heavenward just in time to observe an unusually fast moving object soaring across the sky. Irregularly shaped, it was not easily identifiable. Just before it collided with my cheekbone, I got a brief clear look at the UFO.

From my fleeting glance, I pegged the item as, generally, pork chop shaped. From my dogs' fervor as they scrambled after every morsel, I deduced that it was, indeed, some form of meat. Assuming thereby that it was a pork chop, that still begged an answer to the primary question: from whence had this pork chop originated? Secondarily, of course, we'd have to consider if its identity solely as a possible probable pork chop deprived it of UFO status.*

As there were no obvious signs that someone had simply tossed a pork chop in my direction, I reflected on possible origins. I first considered my lack of adequate time in which to assess the aerodynamics of this particular pork chop.

Then, again, I concluded that such could also be a pork chop of alien origins, purposefully piloted in such manner so as to be devoured by earthly canines. The intestinal tracts of canines are likely the default location for incubating eggs until they hatch into alien creatures bent on conquering the Earth. Recall, if you will, the plot of Dreamcatcher which I personally watched only a day or so ago. With such scenario still fresh in my mind, you can bet that I'm not going outside tonight except in the case of extreme emergency. And should such an emergency arise, I'll emerge fully armed with a 12-gauge double-barrel shotgun and a full fireplace lighter. If either of my dogs erupts into a shower of tiny worms with large, gaping, sharp-teeth-filled mouths, I am gonna be blowing and going.**

No belly buttons, alien or otherwise, were harmed in the creation of this report. End of report.

*It also begs the answer to the question of whether a UFO remains a UFO after it is eaten by snarling hounds.

**which is Texanese for "going forth in a decidedly-hurried fashion while shooting everything in your way without question."

I snatched a veiled conclusion out of thin air

While it was being so quiet, of late, my navel was hatching an egg of some type. In its own immutable way, during my regularly scheduled gazing adventure, it disclosed the plot to a new sit-com it had developed and was planning to pitch to CBS. The current working title is "I Love Juicy." It's the story of a Cuban nightclub performer in Miami and her Puerto Rican husband, Miguel "Mickey" Mercado," an out-of-work drug runner who runs an exclusive Jewish delicatessen out on the back of a '72 Ford Pinto. Joining in on the televised festivities will be close neighbors and friends, Burt and Ernest Hertz, whose marriage is only recognized in Massachusetts. My navel has put a lot of thought into this show and I was very impressed with the script for the pilot episode. The part where Juicy walks in on a naked Ernest performing the Heimlich maneuver on her naked husband was pure genius. I guess it's safe to say that I am quite proud of my navel and hope that you are impressed, as well.

On the other hand, if my navel is going to be going behind my back and using portions of my own brain, I prefer that it'd, at least, be going into the empty parts. Its newly created sit-com is now housed where I used to store my recipes. I'd had long envisioned a time when I might grow famous by changing my name to Amos and marketing bags of delicious cookies produced from recipes I'd secretly stolen from Betty Crocker's grandmother. Well, never you mind about any of that because that plan is really out the window now. It did really have potential, though, didn't it? Drats! End of report.

Please do fold, spindle, and mutilate

Well, if it was not for Google searches, we might not have had hardly any visitors of any kind. For some odd reason, and, as it turned out, not fate, I decided to take a road trip and go see my brother and his family. I arrived and there is no sign of him or any of his brood. Oh well, as I have previously said, as I never take the time to call ahead, I am never disappointed if no one is home. I thereafter drove around a few hours, checking out my old childhood haunts. Nothing looks the same and, more than anything, I felt lost. I am afraid my school years are definitely too far behind me to remember at this late point of my life.

I drove back by my brother's house to check for sign's of life. Again, there was no answer to my knock and I did not observe anyone trying to peek through the venetian blinds in order to see who was disturbing their peace and quiet. I scribbled a short note on a Post-it Note®* and affixed such to the door. I left to gas up and was planning to stop on my way out of Abilene to get a bite to eat.

I remembered that my dad had always thought the Tye Truck Stop Cafe had the best food in town and, as that was where I was going to fill up my car, since it is also usually, according to my best belief, the place in Texas with the most often lowest priced gas you can find, I decided to dine at the Truck Stop. I thought how that would also keep me in the local area until about 9:00 pm. I'd drive by, once more, at that hour, and, if there was still no one at home, I felt safe in concluding that a couple with two children under 5, if they were going to come home at all, would be home by such time.

I dined, drove by once again, and still no luck. Nothing left to do but face the long drive back home. I was so tired. My eyes were glassy. I saw imaginary creatures scurrying across the road. However, ever vigilant I remained as there were too many "jumping deer" signs around. I have an extreme fear of deer jumping into the road. Oh wait ... that's SpongeBob ... I have an irrational fear of SpongeBob jumping into the road. Now I am going to have nightmares.

My navel was oblivious to the happenings of the day until "jumping deer" was mentioned. It seems my navel now has an unquenchable desire to see a jumping deer. Help. I'm tired. Can anyone find my navel a picture of a jumping deer ---- PLEASE?????? End of report cajole.

*See Post-it Notes® swimming in a sea of molasses.

Can ya hear me now?

Well, can ya, punk? Now ask yourself, does he really have anything to say? What can he say that he has not said before?

feardotcom sucks. There - I said it and that really needed* to be said.

Now, having said that, let me say this: I'm tired. My navel is tired. My computer is tired. I think I'll put all three of us to bed.

Lame report, I know, but what can I say? It's not like you haven't heard it all before, is it?

Well, don't just stand there with your mouth open. Say something, already. End of report.

*But then again, maybe it had been already said [see 91].

It's madness I tell ya, utter madness ...

I really sank a good deal of creative spirit into last night's production. To witness the lack of utter adulation notice given to my efforts really dulls my chi, if a chi is what I think it is. A dull chi produces dull reports. Oh well, at least I have a funny joke for the Friday Joke Funny™ for tomorrow, so be sure to drop in sometime tomorrow so as to begin your weekend with a chuckle.

Oh, and feel free to add your comments, as often as you'd like. It's surely better than getting shot by your cat? I'm not joking, here. I am Tiger, after all, and being a very large cat, I have some sway over the smaller kitties of the domestic variety. In a recent well-attended global summit conference, it was decided that some of us cats are not getting our fair share of attention. As one of the largest and, if I may speak freely, smartest cats in attendance, I made provisions that extra special attention would be paid to my particular problem: Attention Deficit Disorder, i.e., an extreme lack of proper attention from you. An understanding was reached. Things have got to change. Start watching the news for bizarre stories involving people and their cats. People will be quite surprised when they start getting offed by their own cats, I tell you. Mark my word, friends ... the plan's already in effect. Every cat in every corner of the world has agreed to take part in the movement. Blog reading habits are going to be monitored a bit more closely. Special emphasis is being given to make sure Read My Lips gets a "sufficient amount of your attention." The actual parameters of sufficient amount of attention are a little vague. Some of the really frisky kitties did appear to have an extremely itchy trigger claw. My advice: if you are in front of a computer, be reading Read My Lips. Comment! Beware the cats ... they are watching you. End of report.

Post-it Notes® swimming in a sea of molasses

The other day, I was watching that movie, Dreamcatcher. I loved how they kept showing that one character walking around inside his brain, doing this and that, like it was a library. I can easily imagine someone's brain envisioned as such, but not in such a clear-cut form. I can also peer into my brain. On those frequent occasions when I do so, I do not find my visions to be so vivid. My mind, first of all, is not very well organized. Secondly, my navel, which is the best portal I have found into my mental processes, is no longer top-of-the-line. It oft presents a distorted picture of what I am trying to recall.

Unlike the neat boxes full of properly-filed papers inside of Jonesy's head, my own head is filled with assorted scraps of knowledge and bits of memory strewn here and there. My earliest life was recorded in crayon and those memories are long since crumbled to dust.

Ironically, just such a catastrophe befell me this evening. I was relaxed, lazily gazing at my navel, and swimming through the assorted mass of information stored within my gray matter. I found myself putting a few scattered pieces together and, before I knew it, I was on the verge of discovering the meaning of life. As I was turning the equation over in my mind so as to look at it from another angle, it slipped from my grasp and slid into the darkness.

I discovered a few scattered remnants of my vision between "tripods for ipods" and "topical bottoms," but my earth-shattering epiphany had been shredded. Those parts that were salvaged were of little use. [NOTE TO SELF: buy a mental thumb drive. 2 gigs worth of storage space ought to hold all the really important stuff.]

I didn't need this. I wasn't looking for trouble. I guess I wasn't watching for it either. However, I have recently discovered that trouble is keepin' an eye on me. That's it for this time around, but personally, it doesn't end here. I'll most likely be stoically ensconced in navel contemplation for a few more hours before I learn exactly what any of this means. End of report.

Was I ever in a pickle this time

Well, I almost was not around tonight to make this report. No, I did not have a near-death experience, I just feel asleep in my chair watching TV. I'd have likely slept straight through until the roosters crow tomorrow if I hadn't had a most horrendous nightmare.

Now this certain dream didn't begin as a nightmare. In fact, it had a quite pleasant beginning. It involved my having a chance encounter with Renee Zellwegger. We began chatting and hit it off fabulously. She appeared to have fun and laughed pleasantly at all of my jokes, even those few ghastly puns that passed across my lips. Finally, our mutual physical attraction grew too strong and we searched wildly for some private place to waltz the sensual peccadillo, if you catch my drift. So as to enhance our encounter, Renee suggested that I swallow a certain pharmaceutical product regularly advertised on television.

Needless to say, the experience was delightful. We swapped fluids and sustained our passion for an extended period of time. After four hours of such, my brain suddenly recalled the warning and I became concerned about my continued rigidity. Is there a doctor in the house? We are, after all, discussing a very important part of my person and personality. The matter involves a body part which I cherish almost as much as my own navel.

The hour had grown late and the only place to locate a doctor was at the local emergency room. I bade Renee a fond farewell and asked her to call me tomorrow. I remain hopeful that she will. I scurried on down to the emergency room, only to find myself behind a long line of other men. It seems that those side effects might not be as rare as advertised, as it was quite obvious to me why all of those other men were present.

It must have been fairly obvious to the doctor why they were all there, as well. He simply walked down the line, saying to each, "OK, I know why you're here." He did this with each man in line until he came to me, last in line. To me, he said, "Hey, are you glad to see me, or is that a gherkin in your pocket?" After that point, the next thing I remember was awakening in my chair screaming in embarrassment.

I was only able to post this embarrassing dream episode because my navel is off visiting a sick friend. It seems he has become quite acquainted with a neighborhood chimney that has the flue. In my dream, Renee laughed at that. Maybe I'll go back to sleep. End of report.

I got a really bad box of Lincoln Logs®

Today, I received yet another rejection letter from a publisher to which I had submitted my book manuscript. The message was short and sweet and devoid of professionalism. That, in itself, appeared strange, and yet, on this very same day, I received a craftily composed letter from a Dorrance Publications author-representative. It was, however, someone other than the author-representative with whom I had previously communicated. Those two pieces seem to fit together well to create a dreadful edifice.

I am unfamiliar with the particular celebrity of Paul Sepp and unsure if he truly is my friend, but the guy he pictured in this post is as in touch with his navel as any person I have previously observed, be it live or Memorex®. Despite the seeming differences between these pieces, they construct a pleasing scenario wherein maybe -- just maybe -- Paul Sepp really is my friend. I'll email him my PayPal account info for conformation of that fact.

My own navel, having learned of the comments to last night's NNGR™, is pouting. Sadly, therefore, I am out of touch with my own navel. End of report.

Agonizing irritation of evil electrons

I began, earlier today, to try once again to create my 100 Things About Me. I do not know why I find this so very very hard to do, as I am seldom less than open and honest about every mundane matter dealing with myself. So, excruciatingly,

I would have less trouble producing that 100 item list if my navel was not the editor in chief for the project. It's really hard to work for such a harsh taskmaster. I have to beg askance for everything I want to say. Will I ever complete this project? Begging helps. Jes' sayin', ya know? End of report.

Whoa, where'd Saturday go?

OK, OK, so there was no posting of any kind yesterday, not counting the early morning wee hour posting of the NNGR™ from Friday. Sorry about that. I was entertaining. Martha Stewart just got released from prison and I had her over for some tea and crumpets. Afterward, she began cleaning and redecorating my house and before I knew it, the day was gone.

No, seriously, I was entertaining. It just wasn't Martha Stewart. It was Patrick Stewart. He was pushing Borg stocks.

I did write a new short story yesterday. It contains some racy language so I have banned it to the extended entry. If you are old enough and otherwise inclined, please feel free to have a look. My most ardent fan* hated it. End of report.

*No, it wasn't my navel. It, along with all other parts of me, absolutely loves the story.

Boiling Point
a short story by Terence A. (Tiger) Russell

“Well, so you don’t love me?” she asked.

“Shit, no, bitch! Where’d you get that idea?” he replied.

“Well, we have been doing the nasty every day or so. I been fucking your regularly for the last few weeks, ain’t I?”

“So?”

“So?” she responded quizzically. “Then what you’re saying is that I wasn’t nuthin’ more to you than your fuck buddy?”

“Bitch? Get on out of here. You ain’t my fuck buddy. Woman -- I was just playing the part of your boy toy out of mercy.”

Such was the last word out of Ricky’s mouth. His jaw dropped as he watched Lucy pull the Colt 45 from her waistband. She dropped him with one clean round through the forehead at close range.

My whimsical search for something bizarre

When I walked out of the restaurant, for some odd reason, I stared across the parking lot at the big Wal-Mart sign and thought to myself that I ought to check the current availability and price of the items I planned to drive another hour to purchase. I discovered that I was going to save $8.00. Counting round-trip time, I was going to drive an additional 2 hours just to save $8.00. It didn't seem right, especially given that, given the current price of gas, My old Lincoln would use $8.00 in gas in driving that extra 100 or so miles. While I was in Wal-Mart, however, I also made a impulsively chose a few other items to add to my current pile of clutter. When the total was announced, I found myself slightly short of the needed amount of cash. I, of course, had my trusty credit card and deftly whipped it out of my wallet. I attempted to hand it to the clerk, who likely thought I was the dumbest country bumpkin she ever saw. She had to direct me through the function of sliding my card through the machine, explain which buttons to push, and show me how to affix my signature, electronically. As, you likely can tell, I rarely use a credit card for such types of purchases, this was an actual new experience for me.

Upon returning home, as most of us serious bloggers are wont to do, I immediately checked my comments. Lo and behold,* Scott of Versus Blog had dropped in and left some kindly words behind. I quickly recalled that I had yet partaken of today's Versus contest. I clicked on through, as I am also want to do, to find the bout of Conan O'Brien versus Conan the Barbarian. I'd never have picked Conan O'Brien to take this match. I was, however, highly unfamiliar with the particular powers of some particular masturbating bear, I felt some research was in order. Again, as I am wont to do, I plugged the term: masturbating bear into ixquick and found this link to a video of the logical masturbating bear reference. I am hopeful that it was not this link to A hairy gay bear man posing. I didn't open that particular Pandora's Box as I am utterly fearful of what I might find there. Would I find a hairy gay bear or a hairy gay man? Was it not likely that each would be posing bare? Can't you imagine that the very last thing I wanted to see was the sight of a hairy gay man posing bare? I could stand the sight of a hairy gay bear posing bare -- unless of course, he was masturbating.

I neglected to mention my navel's minor fire emergency at my point of entry into the Wal-Mart this evening. It seems that Buddha Belly negligently collided with the lit end of a cigarette in the hand of a store employee on break. That hot coal of burning tobacco became lodged in the front of my shirt along the button line just at the point of my navel. The excessive heat alarmed my navel and an alarm raced down my nervous system to the central process and control center, which dispatched Right Index Finger to tackle the emergency. Arriving johnny-on-the-spot, said Finger deftly flicked away the offending cherry, and my navel lived happily ever after, or until tomorrow night, whichever comes first. End of report.

*Ah, the archaic cliches of the English language!

It ended much better than it started

I never thought I'd reach the point in life where I'd have hardly any interest in something new and hot, but I really have no inclination of ever getting an iPod. Or I didn't. I mean, I thought it was basically a digital music player, next generation walk-man. There must me more. Just what is a podcast?

I'm sitting here in a dark room where the only light is coming from the monitor. My navel is basking in resplendent glory in the soft glow that washes across my Buddha belly. I can now, at least, go to bed with a clear mind. End of report.

My dad's ghost can beat up your dad's ghost

I do not know from where that title came, but I can tell you I am glad it is out of the box. This post ain't likely to be anywhere near the best of my stuff, so it might as well have a lame title like that to not draw* any readers. If you are skimming the Nightly Navel Gazin' Report™ Archive, this is likely one you should just breeze on past. In fact, almost the whole rest of you should likely move on at this point. Not Vickie, though. She should remain behind to read between the lines and discover the truth of the matter. And, Agent Victoria, if you and your team should choose to accept this mission, please report your findings to me as soon as possible, aka Official Read My Lips Acronym™ No. 3229: ASAP, or, as we around here call it: ORMLA#3229. Ya'll don't even want to know what we call the Nightly Navel Gazin' Report™ after the hired hands go for the day. I've got a secret. End of report.

*We'll** be immensely lucky if we don't drive two out of three of them away.

**This, of course, not being that royal we, as I have a mouse in my pocket.

Shhh! Don't tell anyone.

It was that kind of day

What kind of day did you have? Hopefully, it was better than mine. I just had a long day of driving here and there, doing this and that, and finding very little enjoyment with any of it. The low level migraine headache that plagued me throughout the day did not assist in any way. I knew it was going to be that sort of a day, however ... yesterday. I was unaware I'd be under the spell of the vise which clamped down on my head or plagued by the tickling fingers of nausea that teased my stomach. Tomorrow will hopefully be better.

The best thing that happened to me today was meeting Spider-Man. He put on a great show of web shooting and wall crawling in three-year-old imagination format.

I peeked at the star of the show but it was not forthcoming with any earth-shaking revelations. It was not even forthcoming with any salt-shaking revelations. It simply peppered me with frustrations. End of report.

What exactly do ya do with a pair of these?

What kind of pair with up did you come when you read that title? I mean the number of possibilities are endless ... well maybe not endless but at least more than a few, true? There are ta-ta's of course, and dainties, despite usually being a single garment seem to be called pairs, as are pants, as well. It could be a pair of glasses, or a pair of nuts. It might even be a pair of comics. In this case, however, it is none of those. And no, it ain't a pair of bellybuttons, though I am sure a few of you regulars were betting on that ending ... it is a pair of tired, bloodshot droopy eyes urging me to find my bed. There is a high point to this insanity, however. I survived another Monday. I'm not too sure yet that I'll survive Tuesday. End of report.

It's time to shine

and all the lights are off. No, seriously, I've been mindlessly watching the cartoon channel and have reduced myself to drooling moron level. Regrettably, I am still unable to kiss my navel. I failed to ever consider whether my navel was wanting to be kissed, and, if so, by whom. For my own part, I have seen other navels that I'd rather kiss. I have even found other parts of my own body to be more desirable as kissing targets. There are, however, very few actual parts of my own body that I am able to kiss. I seem to remember a point in my life when I could still kiss the bottom of either foot. I believe I lost that ability about the same time as I gave up on wearing diapers ... such time being sometime last week. Wow, would you look at the time? End of report.

In that mysterious place between this and that

I got this nagging physical condition. It seems to be like a stabbing sensation right between a couple of the ribs just below my right arm. It is a bit hard to describe as it in not really an ache nor is it up to the point of being a pain, but is somewhere in the middle. I found several ointments that were designed to ease body aches and pains, but I was unable to find any that claimed to ease aches and pains and anything in between. I guess I'll just have to put up with that stabbing sensation for a another minute or two until I can get this damn bullet into the chamber of this gun, then I am gonna shoot it right between the eyes.

I truly hate coming up with such fantastic humorous ideas on Saturday, knowing no one is going to ever read any of this, anyway. The one or two of you who do will either be so drunk from your Saturday night revelry or so hung over as a result of sleeping it off to be able to understand any of it, I'm sure. Oh, well, no sense in wasting all this valuable electronic space. Let me bait a good Google hook: snail guano. That ought to be good for 30 hits this year. Oh, but if all of life's simple pleasures were so easy, there would not be a million zillion guys wishing they had the physical agility of the family dog, Prince. I can barely see my navel, much less kiss it. End of report.

Of sushi breath and other odd odors

I don't know if any of ya'll readers are keeping up with the happenings here on Read My Lips, but it seems our reputation is being dragged through the mud in Japan. I'm not real clear on what was being said, but it concerned this here post. I was curious about it, of course, so ran right over to your friendly neighborhood babelfish and tried to get it translated into Texanese. About the best I could get is this:

Because Website of PS.The New York Times has taken pay system, when it passes fixed time, it seems that the article only one part stops being indicated by the picture. Just a little it was perplexed, but certain ???? of America, in ???, "Read My Lips-the blog", had picked up this topic. Also the article is quoted totally long. Also the interpretation that with respect to copyright, a little there is a problem, is possible, but because it make the source clear, we would like to introduce. You could point also the track/truck back, but Japanese of the optimistic open space letter doing to transform into that sight, it came out. As for entry being to fear ??????, the ? ? ? which it stops.

Then, on the more serious side of the current occurrences hereabouts ... I am most hopeful I have allayed a young momma's fears when she was worried why her baby's poop has green in it. It might be a surprise to many of ya'll that I get quite a few hits a day from people searching for green baby poop.

Nobody got the joke in last night's report. I didn't even get a dirty look.

I met with a man earlier today. He was seeking something. He thought I might be of assistance in his search. He needed recruits. He was a navel recruiter. I tugged my shirt down so as to conceal my Buddha belly and sent him on his way. End of report.

A Big Bodacious Blessing from Buddha

[T]he truth is, blogs are very self-indulgent. - Jay

It got a bit chilly today, after several lovely days in the upper 70s and mid 80s, so I decided to take a soak in a tub of hot water to warm my bones. I jumped out, dried off and ran into the bedroom for something to wear. Those red sweats were folded, laying on a chair and suited my bill perfectly. I donned the sweat set and felt all warm and toasty. I partially removed said sweats momentarily to take the requisite peekage at belly button so as to make this report and made a most disturbing discovery. No, not that the piercing holes had finally and fully closed, first, because that announcement is premature, and secondly, it is not the time in this show yet to report on the condition of my navel. My navel is just a small part of my epidermal surface. I must not have fully dried off when I dressed in these red sweats because, like the condition of my formerly white briefs, my skin has turned pink.

Anyway, the holes are almost closed, thankfully, and the bruise discoloration is disappearing day-by-day, thankfully. The navel is still a bit rebellious, but hopefully a few years in therapy will assist it in getting over whatever crisis set it off on the wrong track. Despite the holes not being closed, the big toe was given the prize, and being magnanimous, said winner invited everyone to a party to celebrate the victory. I heard there was enough toe cheese to go around for all. I was invited to attend, but just hanging around with a bunch of hangnails is not really my cup of tea. End of report.

I'm late, I'm late for a very important ...

See what happens when your intrepid reporter lays down for a much needed nap at 5:00 p.m.? I'd even requested a wake-up call, which I did get, so as to arise for the Wednesday night showing of Smallville. I quickly weighed in on the effort it would take to recover the appropriate remote control, acclimate myself sufficiently to recognize which button would initiate the television, and to adjust my head so that I could see said TV over my Bozo feet and concluded that it would be far easier to forego a timely catching of this episode, rolled over, and went back to sleep. I awoke, roughly*, about a half hour ago, and, after a sufficient interval of relaxation while partially submerged in a tub of hot water, I felt I owed my loyal readership their treasured report.

Day five in the navel fiasco, and my appointed day to win the cache of toe cheese should the holes pierced through the skin of navel area of my Buddha belly be fully closed by the recently passed midnight. Such did not occur. A thorough examination of the area showed a smather of daylight to still be visible. Big toe takes the cheese. Drat. End of report.

P.S. It has been suggested that I offer the broken plastic sword swizzle stick that was the cause of the piercing up for auction on Ebay. I'll be contemplating all possible consequences to this action over the next several hours ... provided I don't fall back to sleep.

*meant in the most literal sense, since** I awoke with a severe muscle pain on the right side of my back.

**Back to back homonym usage was done purposefully.

And the Award for Supreme Idiocy goes to ...

I have mentioned my collection of all the Best Movie Oscar winners previously. All this month, except for one or two tokens toward Black History Month, Turner Classic Movies has been showcasing movies that were either nominated or won Oscars for this and that. This week, they are showcasing the ones nominated and/or won the award for Best Picture. I am only short 3 movies* of having all the winners, most on VHS, and few on DVD, and even fewer on both. Two of the movies I do not currently have in my collection were being shown on TMC, one tonight and one in about an hour. I checked the schedules, put them on my itinerary, and even went so far as to break out two brand new tapes so as to make the capture and put them into my collection.

The Best Years of Our Lives began tonight at 7:00 pm CW[hatever]T. I had the everything set up and ready to go, and, especially after listening to the intro where the movie was touted as the best movie ever made, considering the likes of Ben Hur, Gone With the Wind, and Casablanca, was eager to add this pearl to my library, and hit record. Two hours into this almost three hour movie I heard the VCR begin to rewind. Better luck, next try: The Lost Weekend, to be timer recorded at 2:30am Wednesday morning. Gandhi seems to be a hard one to catch, commercial-free or otherwise.

I discovered today that the dictionary does contain a $50.00 word for navel gazing: "sopilsistic."

The bruising is darker, but the navel seems to be coming out of its blue funk at abruptly, quite by accident mind you,* losing its plastic sword swizzle stick adornment. The holes have still not fully closed following the fourth day. Just me and my left big toe left in the pool. I have day five and the toe has day six. If no daylight is visible at midnight tomorrow night, the toe cheese is all mine, I tell ya, all mine. Mwuhahahahahaha! End of report.

*Of course, I'll be another one short when they announce this year's winner. I'll likely know which one won long after several of ya'll have reported the news in ya'll's blogs 'cause I am usually in bed long before that announcement is made.

Not hardly worth a handful of free electrons*

I played too long and stayed up late, the clock has just changed the date, I don't know what I can say, but to tell ya'll all it's another day. I know this post is naught but lame, and sadly I will bear the blame, but the time has come to get to bed, and let those dreams invade my head.

Ya'll remember in my last Blogging for Books submission where I claimed I never again wrote another poem ... I meant that to mean I was never ever again able to write a good poem. Pathetic poems, like that mess of moose poop above, continue to pop out of my head with no regularity of any kind.

A quick view of my navel shows the holes have still not closed. Bruising, likely a result of the actual act of piercing activity itself, is visible around its perimeter. It is not a pretty sight. End of report.

*and surely not worth a plug nickel.

It's not the ending I would have preferred

Well, here it is the end of the weekend. I guess it is grammatically correct to use a double end within the same sentence. I, though, cannot be concerned with that. I am mired in a stress press. I bet you are wondering what the heck a stress press is, right? Well, let's just say it is being between a rock and a hard place, with both sides pushing toward each other and the pressure in your head is building up to the breaking point. Yeah, go ahead and throw Monday at me and then stand out of my way. Someone's liable to die before the sun sets tomorrow. Keep your dial set on the news channels.

Day two. Daylight still visible through holes in my navel. More toes out of the running. Toe cheese is still mine for the taking. Buddha belly is embarrassed over the whole fiasco and has petitioned for permission to evict my navel in response. I am unsure when this case goes to court, but you can bet I have vacation scheduled for that week. I'm planning on being out of town. End of report.

They say size really doesn't matter

I broke my favorite knick-knack. It was the cutest little ceramic Paddy Whack, ya know. I tossed it when I gave my dog a bone ... might be time now for this old man to go rolling home. What do ya expect, people? It's Saturday!

Navel observed. Still not a pretty sight. Toes betting holes would close on first day lose. Ha ha! Still betting on day five. I've got a year's supply of toe cheese riding on it. End of report.

I'm still picking bits of shell outta my teeth

AAAiiiiieeeeeeee! I just got in from a charitable event in a neighboring town. It was a post-Mardi Gras Mardi Gras party, it seemed, although they weren't requiring anyone to do anything for beads. They just handed them out. Kinda takes all the fun outta of Mardi Gras when there ain't no tit-for-tat in exchange for those valuable strings of beads, ya know?

_{click to enlarge*}

The proffered repast was something called Cajun Boil. Now, you have to understand that I am a very squeamish eater ... having passed on both gumbo and jambalaya in past opportunities, suspicious of what kind of trash they throw into the pot. I had no sooner gotten myself seated than someone plopped a mash of shrimp, sausage, new potatoes, corn on the cob, and big red crawdads, or as they called 'em, crayfish, right down in front of me. No weapons -- eat with your hands.

Despite my nature, I sampled those crayfishies, not just once, but twice. I didn't suck their brains outta their heads like some I saw, but ate the entire meaty tail. It really wasn't all that bad, I guess. It didn't taste much like chicken, but, then, I don't like chicken. I choked it down without gagging, which for me is really saying something. I actually felt quite proud of myself.

Eating has always been what gives me the heebie-jeebies while watching Fear Factor. I just cannot imagine putting some of the stuff in my mouth that they eat on that show. However, I now suspect that I could choke down a half dozen crawdads for $50,000.00. Of course, on Fear Factor, the crawdads would probably still be alive and you'd feel their legs wiggling as they slid down your throat. Excuse me ... I need to see a man called Ralph.

Sorry ... thanks for waiting. So, my navel is still not speaking with me. I "accidentally" knocked a tin of Band-aid®s off a shelf in the bathroom which just happened to fall onto that plastic sword swizzle stick stuck through my navel and it snapped in half and fell to the floor. My toes have begun a pool to bet on how many days it takes for the holes to close up. I'm in for 5 days. I don't actually have a clue, but I made an educated guess. Now the scar will likely take years to fade away. End of report.

*Excellent poster for sale at TotallyNawlins.Com.

Wipe that silly smile off your face ...

Chatting with Mike is a lot like how I feel when I am talking to my belly button. No matter what I have to say, it sits mute and says nothing. Mike, at least, can effect facial movements: smiles, raised eyebrows, and frowns. My navel simply sits stoically silent.

My navel, however, has returned. It is still skewered with that little pink plastic-sword drink stirrer. No explanations about its whereabouts over these past few days have been forthcoming. I am glad to have it back where it belongs and have not pressed the issue. Still, I find that I just can't bear to look upon it. It is quite a difficult task to navel gaze when ya can't stand the sight of your own belly button. End of report.

[Ed. note: The mime seen above is a graphic rendering I created from a photo found here. If you recognize yourself, thanks for providing the perfect face to compliment my report.]

Do I really have to?

Wow, I ain't sure what came over me this day, but I just did not want to get out of bed. I did, though --- get out of bed. I just didn't want to do so. I just had stuff to do ... the stuff I get paid to do. Hey, I know it's a nasty job, but someone has to do it. I did do it, too, and I did it well. I then returned to this location and returned to bed. Ah, what a life! End of report.

Lazily licking lava lamp lollipops

Did I ever tell ya'll about the time I stumbled and fell into some photo-developer in my dad's darkroom during my childhood? Yep, that was one horrible acid trip. Scarred me for life. Hardy, har, har! Sorry about pun-nishing you so badly with the chemical references, but was watching a show on George Washington Carver on the History Channel. I remember hearing many a seventh and eighth grade classmate report on the autobiography of this particular man. It and an equally short and simple autobiography on Young Mr. Penney were among the most popular books in our tiny country school library and were reported on each week by at least one of my classmates. However, a plethora of pathetic reports could not conceal the accomplishments of G.W. Carver. I have long been an avid admirer of his genius.

I also tripped once and was sure I'd broken a brickbat. I was almost sure that was what I was hearing. "You clumsy child. You done gone and broke my valuable brickbat." I looked at that little ceramic elephant laying on the floor and wondered how it could be a brickbat. I couldn't see banging many bricks out of the brickyard with that broken ceramic elephant. It was not until a few years later, when I was 4, that I finally understood that I had broken a bit of bric-a-brac. Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk! Got ya again.

OK, I know tonight's entry got a bit silly, but such is pretty much what blurfs out of the corners of my mind as I work to clear my mind as the day winds down. There usually seems to be a bit here and there that is a bit more worthwhile, but not this night. I tell ya, I just ain't myself lately. I am just not the same person with a piece missing. Buddha belly misses my navel. It is blind without its eye. End of report.

Oh Boy, is my face ever RED!

Oh well, I did really want to say something special on this special day, but as usual, Nat has already, most eloquently, said exactly what was running through my mind:

So happy Valentine's Day, y'all! May all of your pornography remain undiscovered and all of your intercourse be of the non-felonious persuasion. - Pickle Juice

I don't believe a word of it ...

I've just returned following a dreaded trip to the local constabulary. Regretfully, I have had to file a Missing Navel Report. The rebellious incident reported last eve seems to be only the tip of the iceberg. My relationship with that little impression in the midst of my Buddha belly sank faster than the Titanic. It disappeared after I fell asleep last night and has not reappeared. I am very concerned for its well-being. Although mature in a chronological sense, my navel lacks the mental capacity to function on its own. I'll likely not sleep until it returns safe and sound. If you see a strange navel wandering around your neighborhood, would you please contact the local police? Your assistance in this matter is greatly appreciated. End of report.

Navels will be navels, they say

I tell you, I am at wit's end. I just don't know what to do with my navel. Here I went and spent a considerable amount of my hard earned money on some colorful new coverings so as to bedeck it in only the best finery one can buy in an outlet store and I find that while I had my back turned, my navel, without my permission, went and got itself pierced. I am unsure if I will be able to remain in the same house with my own navel any longer. Anyone with any advice as how to handle this situation? End of report.

Take the high road or low road but take your time

The terrorists attack mounted atop spotted horses

Well, now that I have wired the house with wireless Internet, I can address the audience from every seat within my home. Even now, when I am perched upon that special seat in the warmest room of my house, I have my trusty laptop upon the top my lap and am tapping the top of its keys with my stubby fingers. Of course, I did not place myself in this position solely to escape from the cold, although such has turned out to be a pleasant side benefit. The reasoning behind my current location stems from a very nasty local gas attack. Until more is known about the incident, this room appeared to be a most appropriate refuge to await the final outcome. I have been informed that a gang of pintos is believed to have been involved.

Although my navel was exposed to the noxious fumes, it appears to have suffered no ill effects. The same cannot be said for my nasal membranes. End of report.

Anyone have the name of a good well digger?

Alas, it seems there may be another barrister in the blogosphere with a penchant for navel gazing.

*I'm still missing her, as well.

The "eyes" have it

Point and shoot --

And if your aim is good, you can mount its head upon your wall, cover the floor with a rug made out of its hide, and grind its innards all up in a combination with some spices. Besides some nifty new home decorations, you'll have plenty of meat to gift upon your hapless neighbors. Ah, the thrill of being a redneck.

Speaking of rednecks ... have I ever told you the story about my navel and the Buddha belly upon which it rests? Bubba says I ain't nowhere near close to being Buddha-sized, and I guess Bubba should know about that. I suspect they ain't made the T-shirt yet that can stop Bubba's belly button from eyeballing the crowd. Bubba's belly might match the Buddha, himself. I'd love to see the two of them in a pie-eating contest.* Bubba loves his pie. Joe Bob says that is why Bubba's wife is always smiling. I wanted to take off my cap and scratch my bald spot but, instead, just nodded. Then I scratched my navel. End of report.

*Joe Bob said they'd most likely be sumo wrestlin'.

I think I'm gonna gag ... anyone have a bag?

Anything is possible, or so they say. I believe I recently discovered necessary evidence to prove the truth of that statement. As utterly incredible as it may seem, my navel, this very day, was able to communicate with me. I promise this to an absolute fact! It growled at me, viciously, my navel did. I heard an unmistakable rumble. My ears detected a rich deeply resonant tone which was seen to cause my Buddha belly to jiggle. Believing such to be a cry for food, I quickly tossed it a couple of cracker crumbs. In each previous episode involving both my navel and cracker crumbs, I recall having to dig cracker crumbs out of my navel. However, it seems anything is possible if you allow your mind to wander off for a long walk down a dark, lonely road. End of report.

Barely better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick

Tonight, the report is going to deal with a few different driving dilemmas. [Try saying that with a mouthful of dimes.] I just returned from an adventure in the big city where I went to purchase a couple of electronic items I needed to implement my plans to fully take over command of my home: a wireless router which I need so as to be able to connect my laptop to the DSL from any room in the house and a secondary USB hub to increase the number of USB ports for my main box by an additional 3.* The first dilemma arose almost immediately as I was forced to drive around half of a sizable geode that was parked in the middle of the traffic lane near my house. I managed to avoid any contact with said geode through exceptional exercise of masterful driving skills. In addition, thankfully, it was only half a geode instead of half a Geo.

I, then, had gotten not a mile out of town when I came up behind a blue-haired lady adorned in the customary red hat and purple dress, driving a late model pink Cadillac at the steady speed of 35 miles an hour in a 70 mile zone, hugging the center stripe of a two lane country road in a lengthy no-passing zone. Although I have nothing but admiration and respect for members of the Red Hat Society, does membership in the Society entitle you to ownership of the roads? If you must be moving so slowly that pony carts are piling up behind you -- please, ladies -- pull over onto the shoulder and let them pass.

Thirdly, the final incident also involved Cadillacs and Cadillac drivers. Oddly, while in the city, I saw a Cadillac pulled over to the side of the 8 lane expressway with some malfunction or other and while attempting to discover the nature of the problem, saw another car pull in behind to assist: another Cadillac. Now, these were both late model full-bodied Cadillacs and I was always under the impression that all full-sized Cadillac owners possessed membership with American Automobile Association, otherwise known as "Triple A."

My navel is not currently able to drive and was thus unconcerned with these incidents. Its chief complaint was simply that the seat belt continue to chafe upon it while I was not looking. End of report.

*It is actually a four port hub, but since it has to be plugged into an existing port, you only gain 3.

It was neither a dark nor stormy night

I was in the mood for another drive today, but, not wanting to venture far from home, I went to the next town to take care of a matter involving one of my clients, then decided to come back via some of the back roads. Well, as such usually turns out, I got a bit turned around and found myself circling around and around the same roads, over and over. I am pretty sure I was lost in the midst of the area known locally as goatneck. I am unsure why it is called goatneck, but it might be because such seems like it would be the natural haunt of the legendary Goatman. The ancient asphalt lanes were wide but mostly under the canopy of overhanging live oaks and the vegetation which had grown up along the bordering fences was dense, choking out much of the light. In actuality, I seem to remember the location as being named as one of the possible sites where the story behind The Texas Chain Saw Massacre actually occurred.

I can tell you I was a bit wary of the most minor circumstances dealing with my surroundings, as I found myself passing the same dilapidated church time and time again. Peculiarly, there was no one around, most pleasantly to me being the entire absence of the legendary Goatman, except for three men sitting on the bench just outside of some shack advertising BBQ for sale. They looked familiar. At first, I thought it was these three:

I don't need no stinking Stephen King title

OK, first of all, neither Stephen King nor anything to do with Stephen King is connected with this post. The only reason that I even mention Stephen King is because it is so close to "stinking" especially when ya say it really really fast with a Texas drawl, though, likely being tired at the time assists greatly in such assessment.

I am sorry for the extreme dearth of posting today. I was busy, busy, busy, what with court this morning followed closely by the signing up of a new client with a retainer in just the right amount to cover the rest of my monthly bills. I very much wish to thank George for promptly answering my earlier prayers.

Of course, the dilemma I faced when I first walked through the door from court was a major cause of my lack of available posting time. I walked in to find that my printer had spit out a half of ream of pages with one or two lines of miscellaneous characters on each page. It was clamoring to be loaded with more paper so as to continue its printing out such meaningless garbage. I worked for an hour or more to get that stupid printer to cease that continual action. Despite such difficulties, I am unable to find the printer to be at fault. I suspect the predicament was the act of some malicious miscreant that discovered my disabled firewall. Ya'll will likely recall that I did so in my attempt to discover why I could not access my gmail. Finally, by uninstalling and reinstalling the printer, I was able bring the massive paper waste came to a halt.

Thereafter, I still have correspondence to prepare. Let me note, as well, that I forgot to take such to the mail drop on my way to Republican Club meeting as planned. I just returned from that meeting.

I told you I had a busy day. As if being busy was not enough, my back has been aching since the moment I arose. I am now also discovering that I have a most horrendous case of indigestion. Indigestion, however, is not rare occurrence in my life. In fact, I suspect I might be the only person in the world who could eat a single Gummi® Bear and experience indigestion as a result.

I failed to mention that, in recognition of my failed bid to win the County Attorney seat for the party, the Republican Club bestowed a valuable gift upon me this evening. I am now the proud owner of a nifty refrigerator magnet and I have just the refrigerator for it. My navel is well, although still stalked by the small cherry mole. Luckily, the cherry mole seems to be successfully held at bay by that surrounding barrier of soft black hairs. Although the local temperature has risen above the severely frigid range, my navel is already clamoring for the warmth of that double layer of goose down. I know my back could use the rest, as well. End of report.

How many teardrops can you fit on the head of a pin?

I want a Mulligan. I want a do-over. I want to go back and start all over, at least from here:

Bright eyed and, though quite close, not yet bushy tailed, I had the whole wide world at my feet.

You can bet my visions of the future did not put me at 50 and childless. My dreams may dim but refuse to die. But all I can do is cry, because if wishes were horses, then pigs could fly.

All of that should just fit in a well-rounded navel. End of report.

Frozen neurons thawed over an open flame

OK, so my thoughts are a bit singed, this evening. Thank goodness my navel was shielded from the heat. The last thing I wanted was was to inhale the stink from a fricasseed navel. No snow, but the forecast is open until time for the roosters to crow in the morning. So, think those roosters will crawl out of a nice warm bed in the morn to crow? I am kind of hopeful they will sleep in, that the schools will close, that the courts will close, and that there will be a Jimmy Neutron marathon on Nickelodeon, either that or some channel will finally come up with a bright idea and start showing reruns of Topper. Heck, I'd settle for watching old Lassie shows all day if it is bitterly cold and I can stay buried under that double layer of goose down and watch TV. My navel finds that to be a most enjoyable exercise, as well. Here is hoping my neurons find sufficient rest and a modicum of warmth, and that you and yours are warm and toasty, wherever you may be. End of highly pathetic report.

Good news and bad news

Well, I am glad to announce that my belly button is functioning normally, and, despite by belief otherwise, has been for a great number of years. On the flip side, however, I am a bit embarrassed to confess my recent discovery that the innate connection between male sexuality and naval seamen is not as I had been led to imagine. If you failed to understand the hidden meaning behind that inane reference, please remember the purpose of this report. End of report.

Yada!

Jellybean roulette

Round and round we go, and where the jellybean stops, only I know. It's a blue one, but I can't remember what flavor it is. I ain't gonna eat it, anyway. It's covered with sticky lint. Yuk!

Anyway, speaking of lint, I do not remember when we last had a navel lint sighting here on the nightly navel gazing report. Tonight, it appears, is not going to be the night to see such streak come to the end. Nope, jellybean lint is as good as we can do. The topic on tonight's agenda is belly button quakes. It is a very serious topic. Have you ever seen a quaking belly button? It ain't a pretty sight.

I was experiencing a very severe quaking spell in the area of my belly button yesterday in response to a comment Denita made to this short snark attack I made. The uncontrollable chuckling event initiated a truly intensely sustained quaking episode of such a massive magnitude that aftershocks were experienced as late as this afternoon. I was thankful that there were no large bodies of water involved. I imagine that we are all glad to skip another tsunami event for a long time to come.

I don't know who or what could have been effected by any possible tsunami, anyway. It has been a long while since the last census was taken to tabulate the amount of different life forms living near the summit of my Buddha belly. I do know, of course, that some sort of life exists, because, earlier today, I personally noticed a tiny little thingie crawling around. After closer inspection, I found myself completely satisfied with the creature's camping permit. Only recently, I have been made aware that my navel, on some plane of existence, is a popular recreational area. I have no say in the matter, or so I was told.

I almost wish I had nothing worse to worry over than a bit of belly button lint, here and there. One of my worries is that ya'll will all overlook an interesting bit of fiction I recently created: Snakedance. End of report.

A desperate tale of salty times

I was once sailing smoothly along on the ship of life when I somehow slipped and fell overboard. The next thing I knew, I was swimming in a sea of sorrow or dog-paddling, so-to-speak, in deep sh*t. How thankful I was that someone quickly threw me a Lifesaver® that I did not even care that it was a Spearmint Lifesaver®. Ironically, you see, I positively abhor the flavor of spearmint. I have often supposed that it had simply been enough that someone actually cared enough to throw anything to distract me from riding downward on the swirling undertow in my ocean of despair. I soon found myself again encircled by sharks, and, once surrounded by such circle of friends, I quickly found my sea legs once again.

I have, lately, again begun to see the sea gulls circling overhead and the water has already climbed up to my navel. If you see the water around me start to swirl, please don't flush again. I appreciate your attention to these minor details. Please be sure to read the original story that I penned earlier today. I think you'll really enjoy it. End of report.

Purely personal predicament

If I could keep me away from myself I would, but I can't. You see, I overheard me in a discussion with myself regarding plans for my future. Those plans would be good for me and I could see how they could be of great benefit to myself, but I seemed to be left completely out of the picture. I was both alarmed and appalled. I would have consulted my navel, but who knows with whom its loyalties lie: me, myself, or I? End of post

[De-linked by OTB]

Calvinating the competition

Well, where do I start? It was a very bizarre day. I awoke with naught on my calendar, so decided to drive to one of the neighboring burgs to sit in court in hopes of snagging a court appointment or two. There was a judicial conference involving the judge of the court, so the court was not to be in session on this day. No problem. I merely walked over to visit the District Attorneys' Office to discuss a case I was assigned yesterday. Afterward, I drove to the jail to deliver the bad news to my client.

I thought the biggest part of my day was over and decided to go visit with Moona and eat lunch at her Rotary Club meeting. I was about 15 minutes out when I get a call inquiring why I was not appearing with my client in court in the other neighboring burg. Well, I could rant and rave about the root of that problem, but I won't. Let it just be said that while electronic communication beats snail mail anytime -- human error permeates all modes.

So, a quick u-turn and a mad dash, and I was there in less than a fortnight, if a fortnight is equal to 45 minutes. I stood around for a few minutes until there was a lull at the bench, went up and agreed to pass off the case one more time for the DA to investigate whether my poor, mentally defective, client was actually driving the evading vehicle or was merely pulling it out of the ditch after the actual driver and friend ran off and left my client holding the figurative bag the facts of the matter. It was now too late to make the hour drive to do the previously planned lunch thing, so I stopped in at Wendy's for a sumptuous lunch of burger, fries, and DP.

On my way back, however, I found myself sitting at a light next to one of those Dodge trucks with the hemi engine. I look over at the driver and he starts revving his engine as if challenging my ancient Lincoln Town Car to a drag race. The light turned and he sped off to the next red light. I again came up along side him, and he again replayed the scenario. Again, the light changed and off he sped.

I arrived at the next light, which I know from prior experience has a long left turn cycle, to see him sitting there. I deftly jumped from my car, ran around and popped the trunk, and retrieved my Calvin. Quickly, I threw it in the road and climbed back into my car just as the light changed. Off I sped, my eye affixed to the rear-view mirror watching as my Calvin took hold of the necessary equipment and commenced to spray a steady stream of urine all over the idiot in the hemi-powered Dodge Ram truck.

No, seriously folks ... I have every Calvin and Hobbes book that Waterson ever produced and I do not remember ever having seen a single drawing of Calvin urinating on anything. So, who officially assigned Calvin to urinate on everything? Initially, I suspected my own navel was involved, but it produced evidence of an iron clad alibi. End of report.

[Ed. note: No llamas were butchered in the creation of this post.]

Back! ^{by popular demand}

Well, let me start off by thanking the three who leaped forth and demanded that I continue this daily column. Knowing that the surrounding waters are filled with piranhas will make my nightly swim through the blogosphere more enjoyable. See if you can fit that square analogy into the triangular gap my logic laid bare.

So, remember when I told ya'll* that I had satellite TV and would likely not peruse more than a few of the stations. Well, so far, over 75% of my viewing time has been dedicated to one station. Any guesses as to which one?

The other 25% of my viewing time has been dedicated to gazing upon my navel. It is not an arbitrary decision on my part. My navel required such to be written into its contract. Well, actually, its agent was directly responsible for passing along such demand. Thankfully, there is nothing in the contract that states I am no allowed to let my mind wander while my eyes are focuses on the little dimple in the midst of my Buddha belly. End of report.

*I apologize for those of you who wanted everything to be perfectly grammatically correct for this point on, but I have a very hard time with referring to the whole blogosphere as you or you all. Ya'll will** just have to put up with my usage of ya'll.

**That could've easily been drawled as Ya'll'll 'round these parts.

Not

OK, guess why Tig did not do the Nightly Navel Gazin' Report last night. You have three choices:

1. Only two hands were raised in favor of continuation of this report.
2. He could not locate his navel.
3. His DSL is down again.

Night of the Nervous Navel

My navel has had a very traumatic day. It was scared sh--less when the car that I was driving nearly turned over. Already standoffish, tonight it shrinks further from the light of inspection, snuggling into its dark, warm resting place. Though it would find more comfort in the nearness of another navel, the next best remedy for this stung-out feeling is under the warm covers. Darkness and serenity are welcome friends after the stress caused by the events of the day. End of report.

HIPPA compliant?

My navel is unaccustomed to sharing its state with anyone but me. Last night I found it sequesterd in solitude and silence. It left me wondering if the HIPPA regulations are applicable. Perhaps I should consult an attorney.

A belated report

This morning I awoke to a dim light coming from the softly-glowing computer screen atop the messy, bill-covered desk in the corner of my bedroom. I looked at the alarm clock beside my bed, not remembering what time I had collapsed into comfort. Upon further inspection, I found that I had even failed to set my alarm clock. I decided to get up to see if I had finished the post upon which I was working. Finding only an unsaved draft-form report on the state of the site's surrogate navel, I decided to try to recollect how I had planned to conclude my report. Here's what I found:

11:00 p.m - I returned home awhile ago after spending a relaxing evening. My state was so placid, in fact, that I began feeling that my brain was somehow detached from my body, which had turned into a blob of amorphous protoplasm. How this blob hung onto the steering wheel of my car and directed it into my garage, I cannot be certain. I now picture this formless mass, which has somehow conformed to the chair in front of my computer, sort of rolling off the chair and wallowing around until it finds its way to the warmth and comfort between the sheets of my bed. My navel is merely along for the ride.

Surrogate navel

It was a dark and dreary night Two nights have now passed with no report on the state of the nation navel of our [hopefully] temporarily-absent author. Perhaps a surrogate navel should be inspected.

Here goes. Let's see--How does he do it? Concentrate (I tell myself)--[It must involve some type of meditation.] Then again, maybe I should just r e l a x. . . . Ah, there! It's coming. Yes, my navel has once more stayed up past her bedtime (yawn) and is desirous of being in a dark place, under the covers of my bed. End of report.

Tig, if this doesn't convince you that you need to come back, what will?

The enraged navel or the saga of BOOB [Jan. 14, 2005 Edition]

I was layin' warmly on the sofa last eve, watchin' whatever while dozin' intermittently, wonderin' if I should venture to one of my several computers so as to give this report. My thoughts, however, were tanglin' 'tween my displeasure in the acknowledgment of efforts put forth my myself and my co-blogger Moona over these past few days and my utter malaise in givin' a whit 'bout any of it, anyway. I am wonderin' if I am afflicted with BOOB, (burned out on bloggin'), bein' as how I feel I am gettin' minimal feedback on my own efforts.

Despite the supposed networkin' that attends the blogosphere, there has not been one person connected with the publishin' industry contact me regardin' the book project. Strike One.

Durin' the recent blog awards activities, this blog was not even nominated by anyone other than myself. Strike Two.

The utter lack of comments seems to show there is no real appreciation of my efforts. Maybe it is time for me to give up this hobby. I 'member Kate once said in her rules of bloggin' that ya should not be doin' it if ya weren't enjoyin' it. I might have 'bout reached that point. The blogosphere does not need my voice, I 'spect I could really make better use of my time, and I no longer need the piles of money that I receive for my feeble bloggin' efforts [/not].

I don't figger too many of ya'll will miss me. I am hopeful that Moona, however, will continue with her fledglin' bloggin' efforts.

It was a cold January night

I went to bed early last night. My navel was only concerned with gettin' warm. End of report.

No tail graces this tale, it seems

Thanks to my pal, David, of Ripples, I was coaxed to read this which gave me the idea for the followin:

It was a dead January night in the boonies. A humid kind of early and unseasonably warm winter night where the wolves bay at the remnants of the last quarter moon. The kind of night where mysteries are born. The kind of night I live for.

My name is Blather. And I’m a private dick. It wasn't always so, but then I wasn't aways married.*

I am well aware that most of ya'll only care 'bout what my navel has been up to of late, don't ya? Well -- it has been up to 'bout waist high for most of today. Bet ya didn't see that comin'! End of report.

[Addendum: Ya know, I really hate it when I am wantin' to go to bed early 'cause I have to get an early start tomorrow, bein' ever'body hates me, nobody loves me, I guess I'll jes' eat a worm and need to get up early to catch one as I have to get an early start to make it to a neighborin' burg for court tomorrow, bein' what court is early and it is still takin' over an hour for my damn tub to fill. Long story -- kinda sad, really startin' to piss me off get my goat. So, anyway, to get to the point of this addendum, my navel is perplexed at why, if ya only get one day older and deeper in debt, why the heck ya would be spendin' your time loadin' sixteen tons of anythin'? I was unable to contrive logical reasonin' which would adequately address the situation and I will now likely lay awake for hours playin' this scenario through my mind. It would seem that my navel possesses a mean streak. End of addendum.]

*Please be aware that this is a fictional piece about a fictional character. I am not married. Jes' so's ya know. Not that I don't wanna settle down at some point. Jes' findin' it hard to locate the mother of my children.

Swimmin' laps through the prickly-pear patch

Yep, I feel like I am still jes' a-treadin' water and ain't makin' no progress through the precarious predicament in which I find myself currently mired despite all the naturally wonderful inducements spurrin' me toward action. I seem to have caught a bad case of spring fever in the midst of the winter, but not the kind that motivates ya t'ward gettin' your spring cleanin' done. Nope, the mess still is firmly in place and likely to stay that way for the time bein'. I got boxes and boxes of paper that needs to be gone through so as to get the situation well in hand. Speakin' of well in hand ... oops, let's not go there.

My mouth is yawnin' and my eyes are droopin' and my navel is clamorin' for me to go curl up in a fetal position 'neath that double layer of goose down, but the temperature is so balmy, I ain't even wearin' nuthin' 'bove the navel. The lower half, o' course, is covered by that previously mentioned "Grrrrreat" set of sleep pants, tied snugly 'round my waist jes' below my navel. Bare and uncovered, the navel sits amid the Buddha belly in resplendent glory. That little cherry mole is still keepin' watch. End of report.

You'll soon find yourself not sippin' your regular brand

I have felt like a numb-skull for most of the day, tryin' to find somethin' to blog 'bout. I had the followin' topics available:

• my sore back
• my cluttered life
• my currently unpublished book
• my lack of money

• how utterly tired I was.

Tsunami Tsurvival.

My navel literally had nuthin' to do with this creation, whatsoever, and wanted me to make that perfectly clear. End of report.

OTBTJTB™

*I actually have no current T-shirt available for sale to benefit such project, but if there is actually enough clamor for it, or someone else steals this idea and makes a bundle off of it, then please feel free to assist me in my book publication endeavors.

Trippin' on my shoelaces crossin' the finish line

Somethin' like that! I am worn to a frazzle. Got the office all moved out and moved into the house. Got a backache, a neckache, and a headache .... but fixin' to go take a really hot bath and get into bed. The navel is really lookin' forward to gettin' the post done, so adios ya'll! Ridin' off into the moonrise bein' as it is a bit too late in the evenin' to ride off into the sunset. Applause appreciated. End of report.

Standard Saturday with a twist

Didn't see much cause for bein' prolific today, as it was Saturday and we all know how dead the blogosphere is on Saturdays. I was 'splainin' to Moona today how most bloggers are intelligent, love to write, etc. so mostly we are worried 'bout what we are writin' more than anythin' else. She was wonderin' why there were so few comments. I wonder 'bout that all the time. 'Specially when I went all out to provide the first new Alien Attitudes™ comic strip in five years or so.

Well, thankfully was feelin' a bit better today, so got a lot more of that office move done. Still have one more round to go, though, but had to come empty some of the boxes so as to have somethin' to pack more of that big pile of paper. My navel has been out of the loop for most of the day, havin' been benched while my consciousness was busy tryin' to figure out where to put ever'thin'. I am still tryin' to figure out where to put some of the stuff I moved in here three years ago. I have too much stuff and am in a profession that generates way too much paper. 'Mostly, though, it is as if it is impossible to ever be able to throw any of it away. I have boxes and boxes of closed files I have toted endlessly from place to place. They will likely haunt me until the day I die. End of report.

Lemon Meringue's Adventures of Orphaned Socks*

Well, it seems Count Maytag was chasin' after the fortune left to three orphaned socks: a purplish colored Ban-lon hose, a Nike sports sock, and a knitted baby bootie with a myriad of holes. Thankfully, with the inventiveness of the Ban-lon hosiery, the superb readin' ability of the Nike sports stockin', and the way the baby bootie was bitin' into the toes of anyone idiotic enough to try to stretch it onto a full-sized foot ... well, you get the picture. Actually, the movie 'pon which this inanity is based was quite good, as were the credits. I'll give it four-paws up and a shake of my striped tail.

The navel dozed fitfully durin' the movie, payin' very little heed to the scenario flashin' 'cross the screen as such navel seemed to be mired in ponderance at how an homage of some type could, in some way, be referenced within Book Two or Three of the Alien Attitudes™ Trilogy. End of report.

*Bein' as today was the kamikaze laundry assault day, today's postin's were brought to you by the letter orphaned socks.

Kill Bill Still ill Vol. 2

Still gettin plenty of bed rest and feelin' like if I don't kick this bug pretty soon, I might be covered with bed sores. If things go like they did last eve, I will toss and turn all night, runnin' storylines through my head dealin' with the next installment in the Alien Attitudes™ trilogy. My navel seems to be one of the few parts of my body that is not runnin', achin', or otherwise afflicted with cold symptoms. End of report.

Chicken Soup for the Common Cold

So whatta ya think? Does a big hot bowl of Dollar Store two-fer-a-buck chicken noodle soup that ya are gonna have to go out in freezin' weather to get really all the much better for ya than say heatin' up some of Emperor Ramen's Magical Manna™ ya have already on hand when ya are down for the count with a really bad cold? Well, ponderin' the complexities of the foregoin', I did venture out and dined 'pon a Sonic-sized™ order of tots sprinkled with chili juice and watery cheese sauce.

I also stopped by Dollar General, the closest thing we have to WallyWorld in this tiny burg, after my meal 'cause I noticed the oil light come on in my monstrous, gas-guzzlin', oil-burnin' and leakin', ancient appearin' ('93) Champagne-colored Lincoln Town Car.* That is usually a sign that I need to get some oil. It needs an oil change soon and may soon be up for an engine overhaul unless my luck changes a bit. I'd like to purchase a Cooper Mini or another 87-92 LX 5.0 hopefully non-red Mustang Convertible in top condition.

To get back to the Dollar store ... as I went to pick up the two bottles of oil I needed, I sorta circled the store hopin' to find one of those hot oil radiators for sale. There were none to be seen, which I had already 'spected prior to lookin' 'round for such. Those radiators seemed to disappear quickly in the three days between the first day I saw them, when I happened to be jes' a bit short on cash, and the next time I stopped in. None had been delivered subsequently, I was informed. I guess I'll put that on my lookout list for when I can hopefully drop by Walmart tomorrow after court is over.

I also neglected to pick up any two-fer-a-dollar cans of chicken noodle soup while at Dollar General. That slight neglect crossed my mind after I got home. Additionally, I wondered if I should have also picked up some mentholated rub to apply on my chest so to assist my breathin' after I fall asleep. I quickly, however, recollected why I no longer ever purchase any of that mentholated rub. That crap is jes' too difficult to wash off completely from your hands. On more than one occasion, I can 'member 'speriencin' the excruciatin'ly painful searin' of my delicate optic tissue 'pon innocently and groggily knucklin' the corners of a weary eyes followin' a supposedly thorough washin' of my hands after havin' used some of that stuff on previous occasions.

I also remember somethin' 'bout gettin' plenty of rest. I felt I did a thorough job in accomplishin' that prong of the cold recovery formula today as I spent most of today either drinkin' Dr. Pepper or catnappin' as noise from the TV was fillin' the background, often while fully reclined on the sofa or my bed and I am promptly headin' back for the rematch. My navel is urgin' me bed-ward, wantin' to avoid any more encounters with the sofa. An earlier encounter with the cord of a couch cushion seems to have left an indelible mark on its psyche. Ponder that point with a healthy servin' of Emperor Ramen's Magical Manna™ and get back to me on it. End of report.

OTBTJTB™ Why? jes' 'cause.

*Did I ever tell ya'll that I figgered out the reason so many underworld characters seem drive Lincoln Town Cars is 'cause ya can actually fit three dead bodies inside the trunk of one. The trunk of my car smells like one or two of those carcasses musta rode 'round for a couple of hot summer days 'fore the right ditch or swamp or construction site to dump the body (or bodies, as the case may be) was found. The rank aroma is ghastly and nauseatin'. It grew so bad that I threw a skunk in the trunk and drove 'round with is rattlin' 'round back there for a few days in hopes the trunk linin' would absorb enough of of its spray to mask the stench of death that emanated from within the depths of that massive trunk. My plan only succeeded in pissin' off a skunk. Sorry skunk. Sorry PETA. [not!]**

**The only thing close to truthful in the previous footnote is the fact that ya really could likely fit 3 dead bodies into the trunk of a Lincoln Town Car. The rest, of course, is from within my imagination.

January 4, 2005

[Written by Moona, because Tig is under the weather.]

When I went to help Tig last night, he was not feelin' too well. As I was leavin', he told me that I could do the Nightly Navel Gazin' Report if I wanted to.

Thinkin' that it prob'ly wouldn't be right for me to inspect his navel, 'spec'ly when he was feelin' puny, I considered givin' you a report on mine. I'm kinda shy, though, so guess I'll jest tell ya that it was still there.

Channelin' Felix the Cat

I'm gonna reach into my bag of tricks and see if I can pull out ... yep there's a great big ol' good-night,* right there! Righty-O! My navel noted Felix's lack thereof. End of report.

*Got a lot of the heavy movin' done, thankfully, with the assistance of Moona and her son. My back is now quite stiff and sore. I am simply worn to a frazzle and regretful that I may have been less than my most prolific self today. I do wanna thank ya for your support.

Polka-dotted pantaloons & a second layer of skin with a drop seat

Ya ever noticed how fashionable is it used to be to go out actually wearin' more undergarments than most people currently have in their top drawer at any one time? What with hoops, corsets, pantaloons, bloomers, garters, leggin's and the like, why'd anyone invent a chastity belt? It'd take all night jes' to get naked enough to do anythin' with all them garments to get through. People of that age had servants to assist them with dressin' and undressin'.

'Course, then there is always them shots in the westerns where people seem to be bathin', once in a blue moon, whether necessary or not, while still encased in their long handled underwear, drop seat properly buttoned, thank ya very much. It was as if they had decided it was a good idea to wash themselves and their underwear at the same time. That's a pretty handy trick to 'member, ya'll bachelor guys. Bathe! Wash your underwear. Do it at the same time if necessary, but do it --- often!

This Public Service Announcement has been brought to you by the United States Department of Navel Observations, North Central Texas Division, batteries not included. For an edited transcript of these proceedings, suitable for framin', please send a SASE, along with 15¢ Canadian, no pennies, no stamps, to Burrell, Shoe Box 1262, Newark, Illinois 55501.* End of report.

[Addendum: I forgot to tell ya'll 'bout my idea for a good comedy skit. Extreme Home Makeovers project: Oscar the Grouch. Send him away to Disney World for a week while they redo his beat up ol' trash can into a shiny stainless steel dipsy dumpster. Oscar's reaction: quite grouchy and thoroughly unimpressed. That's all. End of Addendum.]

*Uh, don't send stuff to this address. It's all a joke, ya'll.

It is all I can do to stay awake

Thankfully, I only endeavor to get this report out before hittin' the sack for the night. If ya ain't already done so, check out this short story of mine from over 20 years ago: 2014. My navel is completely pleased with this report and moves that such report be closed. My eyelids, in unison, second that emotion. End of report.

Happy New Year

Well, gazed 'pon a 4 stud navel while out celebratin'. Too late, too tired to think. Navel is well. Happy 2005! End of report.

Things that were and are again/ formerly something like I am the yada yada blogger of the world

Yep! I claim that title for myself, and ain't even gonna tell ya why it belongs to me. Heck, I doubt anyone finds anythin' unusual with tonight's report. Only a keen eye for details will likely find the secret. Secret is strong enough for a man, but made for a woman. Sadly, I have output about 120% of today's allotment of creativity as I have worked diligently throughout the day to pen a horrific short story to submit for publication on a new Horror/Suspense online magazine premierin' sometime in January or February. I thought it was a full day's work and, if my understandin' is right, I'll be handsomely paid for my efforts, as well as retain my copyright to the submitted work. I can live with that.

It was my first venture into the horror genre, however, all my previous efforts bein' confined to sci-fi and fantasy, but it is my dream to be professionally creative in all fictional genres. My greatest authorial difficulty seems to be in bein' able to limit myself to a set number of words. The criteria of this submission was 2500 words or less and I came in at about 2800. I think I still have a chance, and will allow the site to edit my verbiage, if necessary. However, I cannot imagine any online publication having space requirements that have to be met. I 'spose it was more in that they kind of had a set price per word and the top price they were offerin' to pay equaled the rate per word times 2500 words. I'm willin' to chuck in the extra 300 for free if they are willin' to pay me for the other 2500.

Moona read it and said it would have made a good episode of The Twilight Zone. I took that as a nice compliment.

Anyway, my navel is, by definition, not involved at all with this report. End of report.

A pleasant journey was made 'pon a pleasant day

Well, I answered my own question. I discovered that a "Happy Meal" does not make you happy, at least at my age, 'cause I would have gladly traded that gigantic and ghastly lookin' toy for one of those apple pies. Not sure what to say 'bout the burger. 'Tweren't a Big Mac, but then, to tell ya the truth, a Big Mac is usually a bit much. The fries were ample for my needs. I dumped the DP in with the remainder in my refillable cup I carry 'round with me almost all the time.

I did figger out what to do with that toy. I gifted it 'pon Zane, that lovable child of Eric and TwoDragons from Who Tends the Fires. It shot paper pogs and his two-year-old little face lit up with delight as he watched his momma shoot those pogs out and he giggled like crazy as he ran off to retrieve them and bring them back for 'nother 'round of fun. They live in that mythical town, Tinyville, Texas, some distance from the tiny burg where I live. Tinyville is tiny burg jes' a bit further down the road, in a different place altogether, still, o' course, in Texas. Texas is a big place. I figger they live somewhere 'bout 2 and a half hours from me. A pleasant drive through 4 county seats with a few other towns in between. I had once playfully chided them 'bout havin' taken 'nother group to a particular local restaurant 'bout which they had raved, so, now havin' felt some pangs of guilt ever' since my mention of such, they now forced me to consume ample portions of delectable Tex-Mex that was o'so bueno. Muchas gracias, you two, for such a lovely repast.

Denita also allowed me to gaze 'pon the exquisite sculptures she did and I cannot describe how artistically talented my good friend, Denita TwoDragons, is. We then chatted a bit about it, o' course. I am still a bit up in the air 'bout my current plans regardin' it. I'd tell ya'll what it is, but then I would have to add an additional category for this post and such seems to be goin' a bit overboard since what I jes' had to say ain't all that important in the grand scheme of things. Ain't no use in upsettin' the payin' folks ... if ya get my drift. The sinus tablets had begun to wear off and my eyes were growin' very droopy. I checked the time and not able to think of anywhere more excitin' to be ... drove back home. I rolled in here some odd minutes after 11:00 pm and the time of this postin', though I can tell ya that midnight rang 'bout two paragraphs back.

I don't know why it's so, but I do some of my best thinkin' while simply drivin' down the road watchin' the white road stripes passin' by on a steady basis. I find the exercise to be mesmerizin' on occasion and the most delightful ideas come to mind. It is, however, damn hard to write all those great things down. And my thinkin' process does not always stray to'ard what I was hopin' to get worked out in my mind, either. I am not currently sure if I know what is 'zactly needed to get resolved 'mongst those rogue neurons runnin' 'round in my brain. The only thing I do know is that I am sensin' that somethin' is comin' to a head. My navel 'spects it's simply guilt from havin' procrastinated to such a great degree when I've got so much work that needs to get done. I simply wish that my navel could do the necessary work. End of report.

All the good titles were locked away in the other room

Moona seems to have been strangely silent. I think she is doin' well with her beginnin' bloggin' efforts. I passed along a few pointers today, so maybe she is jes' studyin' up on stuff or surfin' blogs to see how ya'll are doin' things. Her Moona's Mornin' Musin's seemed to be a good compliment to my own Nightly Navel Gazin' Reports™, IMHO.

Well, for some odd reason, and I am gonna 'spect the effects of the sinus medication coursin' through my body as I write, my brain refuses me any access to anythin' on the left side of said brain. I left with little to do but languish here with naught but a plethora serious thoughts, many which relate to the earthquake, resultant tsunami, and the hundreds of thousands who perished as a result. Not grand fare from which the masses may partake, what? My navel, however, is again unconcerned. It only wonders why we left the comforts of that double layer of goose down in order to wander in here to post. I am guessin' that it has basked in the glow of its 15 minutes of fame for such time as was sufficient to fulfill its needs. I, on the other hand, await the fame I deserve. The proverbial sh*tpile of money of which I previously spoke would go long to'ard assistin' such fame to engulf me. End of report.

The best laid traps for rats and men

Hey, it was the best I could come up with on the fly, it would seem. I had been savin' up a doozie title for this report all day, jes' to find myself throwin' it atop a post in need, indeed. It is strange watchin' others dippin' their toes into the water and scribblin' their names in the proverbial sands. The perspective is much different, I find, when the party's bein' thrown 'pon your own beach. Still, it's five o'clock somewhere, so I think I'll jes' sink back into this beach chair and sip on a cold bottle of Corona.

My navel awakened as I scribbled down that fantasy and is now miffed at me that such is not reality. I am a bit miffed at that myself. I 'spect if that proverbial sh*tpile of money I been awaitin' my whole life was to finally fall from the sky at this very moment, me and my navel would likely be charterin' us a flight to Cabo somethi'nother. I am not gonna hold my breath awaitin' such occurrence. I have previously done it until I was blue in the face and jes' ended up breathless and jes' as broke as I'd been. My navel has requested, however, that if'n any of ya'll are charged with the delivery of expected sh*tpiles of money 'pon highly deservin' people, we ain't gotten ours yet. End of report.

I searched and searched but found naught

Seriously. I am so completely frazzled, I cannot amass a solitary thought from that swirlin' cloud of chaos that inhabits my mind. My navel appears serene. End of report.

There and back again or half the world has already celebrated Boxin' Day

Yep, it is true. I am home again ... with Gollum's ring. I visited the dragon's lair, but stayed back in the shadows and remained invisible and escaped unscathed. That is the best way to escape, 'cause I heard that actually becomin' the least bit scathed hurts like a whole mouthful of really filthy and foul language. Yes, that bad!

I am glad Christmas is over, but looks like I missed the greater part of Boxin' Day and I currently have a really major shortage of good, strong, large-sized boxes. I 'spect it's likely that, by now, all of the good ones have already been snatched up. I heared that they was a tossin' 'em out to the crowd durin' the Boxin' Day Parade. Why they had to start such event at the crack of dawn, I'll never know. I'll jes' 'spect an alien conspiracy of some sort.

My navel urged me to post this report despite the tardiness of such. It actually relates back to last evenin''s event. It has made me promise to provide another report for this ver' evenin'. I, o' course, was crossin' my fingers behind my back whilst doin' so --- jes' in case. I am actually intendin' on doin' the next report on a timely basis now that I am back home, but I am also purty durn tired 'n'all, and was thinkin' of layin' down for a bit and snoozin' for a little while. I 'spect that I'll re-awaken in time to post the regular report for this date --- but, I don't always wake up when I think I will. Thankfully, however, I always have successfully done so ever' day of my life whether or not I necessarily wanted to do so. Awakened, that is. End of report.

Hey, where the heck am I?

It would have been hard to give a report last eve' as I was not even sure where it was that I was located. I was at the Red Apple Inn, but while I was there, I was not 'zactly sure where there was located. It turned out, this mornin', when I awoke and discovered my whereabouts that the Red Apple Inn is located in Forest, Mississippi. I'd been pretty sure I was in Mississippi, to be truthful, jes' was unsure in which li'l burg within such state I was sittin’. I had happened 'pon the Red Apple Inn via a slick marketin' scheme that possibly only snared me, alone. ‘Seems that I was gettin' quite weary, cruisin' 'long I-20 in the midst of Jackson, Mississippi, and was eye-ballin', peripherally so, the roadside billboards in hopes o’ findin’ a bargain price 'mongst the dozen or so choices ‘pon display. My eye happened to catch an advertisement for the Red Apple Inn, 31 miles away. I was feelin' charitable and figgered any innkeeper that was investin' good money in the inane exercise of hopin’ to convince people to pass on a plethora of accommodation choices and, instead, to drive another half-hour to use their establishment, was more likely in need of my money than was the local establishments. I did, therefore, pass up on that plethora of choices and pulled off the road when I saw that little blue sign they have on the sides of Interstate Highways now to tell ya what you will find at each exit upon seein’ Red Apple Inn. I easily located said establishment, checked in, and was asleep soon thereafter.

I am now in Tullahoma, Tennessee, havin’ arrived, unexpected as predicted and was lucky enough to have gotten here jes’ as Christmas dinner was bein’ served so that I was able to see my sister, brother-in-law, both my nieces, and the fiancée of one of my nieces, in attendance.

It is now nearin’ time for the annual, once-a-year, eight hour flyin’ reindeer huntin’ season to start, so I am gonna go find a 30.06 and sit up on the roof lookin’ for a chance to blow one of them jinglin’ monsters right outta the sky. I am usually an animal lovin’ human bean, but have ya ever seen what kind of mess one of those beasts can leave on the windshield of your car? Like mosquitos, snakes, grasshoppers, and the like, flyin’ reindeer are worthless vermin, in my opinion. I ain’t never worried ‘bout swattin’ a squeeter, so ya can bet I ain’t gonna have a qualm with blowin' that shiny red nose right off of Rudolph's smilin' face. My navel finds huntin’, in any form, to be an appallin' practice. End of report.

Baby, it's cold outside ...

Like that ol' hackneyed title ain't been used too much here lately. Actually, that is likely the ver' first time I have used it in connection with the various versions and revisions of this blog, 'cause I work hard not to repeat titles. I must exclude from such claim, however, those regular features: Nuggets & Gems, Friday Jokes Funny™, and Eye on Opus™ - which use the day's date for a title, so that havin' two such features 'pearin' in the same day might cause the duplication of a title, and those former features: Rusty Rides Again™ and Wicked Willie™ were episode numbered, and would thereby duplicated.

In the vein of title creation, itself, I sometimes title the post prior to creation and sometimes afterward. I am often clueless when the appointed time for givin' the report draws near. Even on some of my most creative days, the daily wind down often has sapped the last few dregs of creativity from my soul so that I can barely deliver base drivel. On those occasions, I usually find myself of wringin' some ol' title from the report. It is a hard job, ya know, but somebody has to do it.

There are occasions that I am extremely impressed both with the titlin' and with the resultant report. Here are three recent reports in which I felt my creativity shined: Sorry I'm late, but I got sideswiped by a zinger, Ever'thin' I know 'bout Australia I learned while watchin' Kangaroo Jack, and last night's entry, Regurgitated mish-mash from Brain Cell XC-27. In each of those cases, the title jes' popped into mind, and the prose jes' miraculously followed. All you creative people know, sometimes it jes' flows.

It sure is cold and my navel is sorely clamorin' for the warmth that lies below two layers of goose down. In this instant, as you can easily detect, the titlin' of this post befits the temperature of the night. It has very little to do with the actual content of this post. There ain't no set rule 'bout these things.

Read My Lips is an improvisational blog and these Nightly Navel Gazin' Reports™ are 'bout as improvisational as things 'round these parts can get. Me, all I can think of at this moment is how to improvise my way into bed. Ya'll comprende? I guess Moona had difficulty postin'. Ya know, the best of intentions cannot overcome the difficulties of keyboardin' with bovine hooves. End of report.

Regurgitated mish-mash from Brain Cell XC-27

George but what I was lookin' back on my paltry offerin's durin' today's run of postin's and I must admit I was in fine form. Seems the neuronic engine was runnin' on all two-and-five-eighths cylinders. I do know that a mislaid cup and eventual search and return to the place whence I get such filled did supply me with an additional 32ounces of that sweet nectar of life, Dr. Pepper, suchly so that the neurons were amply fueled. That is such an odd lookin' word, what? fueled, though likely not half as odd as eighths. I'm watchin' you, you know. Put that back down. You ain't 'spose to be playin' with that! You'll put an eye out! Oh, 'scuse me. I was screamin' at the poltergeist. Susie had one and it seemed like so much fun that I decided to get one. He's a real demon, this one. Has red eyes and skanky breath. Tic tacs just pass right through him, though. I know. I throwed a few at 'im. He jes' laughed. He does that a lot, laughs. And he touches stuff. No, not like that, you filthy-minded monster.

It seems to me that people used to give ya a bit more acknowledgment for recognizin' their stuff than goes 'round any more. Is blogger etiquette startin' to wane with the legitimacy of our form of grass roots publishin'? Or am I jes' some ol' romantic who jadedly hopes that people still think of one 'nother with admiration and camaraderie? Likely, I 'spose, it is 'cause I am a putz and jes' put up with their rudeness. That's me: putz. I wear the crown proudly and yet I ain't even really sure what it is. I think it's kinda like a schmaltz. What that is, I am totally without a clue. It's Jewish, but I'm not. It's a genetic thing, really. Physically, I am thoroughly qualified. It was not voluntary on my part, but thankfully no residual trauma from the event lingers at my advanced age. My imagination, however, has been known to run rampant when the thoughts of such procedure come to mind. May we move on? What were we talkin' 'bout? My putz? Oh, my and it's a long one. A ten footer, at least, and the green is slantin' jes' a bit to the west. Yeah, I can likely three-putz this hole. ^{Ooooh! He said hole.}

Folks, I don't jes' make this stuff up, ya know. Oh, wait, yeah I do. Don't ask me how, 'cause I don't know. This crap jes' comes to me, mostly when I am listenin' to Rush Limbaugh or Paul Harvey or the McNeil-Lehrer Newshour. I think of them programs as like muses. They cause my mind to wander off into weird places, tryin' to escape the inexplicable. The crap is hidin' way back in those dark and weird places in my mind and comes rushin' out whenever I open the door to go in. I catch a lot of it in my hands as it comes gushin' out my nose. What little I can understand, I transcribe 'pon these pages. Like I said, I don't make this stuff up, but like I said, I really do. I have fun doin' it and hope you have fun readin' it. If not, say so. In fact, if ya like it, say so. If ya read down this far, say so. If ya ain't got any opinion of any kind but jes' wanna post commercial links in my comments, go reside within the fires of Hades. As for my navel, it wants your love and affection. I jes' want a big goose. I wanna give it to Bob and his family. That Tiny Tim is such a cute li'l fella. Too bad 'bout that gimpy leg of his. Strike that! Bah Humbug! Bring on your ghosts, will ya! We can set up a playdate for my poltergeist. End of report.

What manner of business is this?

Here it is the appointed hour and I have yet to conceive of anythin' worthwhile to tell, at this point. Well, 'ceptin' Hip-Hip-Hoo-Ray for me passin' the 150,000 mark in visitation. It'd be really nice to get 200K by 2 year blogoversary date in April, the 7th, I think. I believe it is doable. The stream seems to be flowin' uphill at this point and I am beginnin' to feel comfortable with the current flow of my creativity. Currently, however, the current is not flowin', though in any moment a minute amount of creativity might flow forth and tons more babble from my mouth shall spew and slather you all with humility today and for all eternity.

OK, I know that was crap. I really was jes' in the mood to draw ya'll a purty picture or somethin'. Ya'll didn't like my last paintin', though, so I figgered I'd try paintin' somethin' with words. I failed miserably, I know. At least I was kind enough to have slathered ya with humility for all of eternity, though. That ought to be worth somethin'? Ya think? Fine, I'll jes' slink back down into my little corner, shrink into the shadows, and disappear.

Hey, has anyone seen Larry? I thought I told him to have a linkin' FAQ up by now. It might be hunky-dorry to hire a wino to decorate your house, but they sure as heck ain't much assistance with runnin' a blog. Larry! Wherever you are, YOU'RE FIRED!!!!!!

Navel unchanged. End of report.

Ya jes' ain't got no idea how hard I work at this!

OK, OK, now this is gettin' a bit old, ya'll. First of all, I didn't get nominated for anythin' in the WizBang! awards. Then, I still ain't been nominated for none of them BoB awards. Now, today Time overlooks me when choosin' their Man of the Year. I mean, look what I did for humanity last year. I personally disposed of a multitude of pesky invadin' aliens from the south. I know I eradicated a dozen fire ant mounds single-handedly without the use of any WMDs ... oh, wait, I think dumpin' a big pile of poison on them so as to kill ever'one of 'em is kinda like usin' a WMD, ain't it? ... OK, strike that last part ... and then ag'in, I have been fightin' so hard for human rights on several fronts, usually without adequate pay, as well. Then ain't I steadfastly typed my fingers raw at this keyboard promulgatin' great ways to change the world on a daily basis? I was so deservin' of this award! It was mine! I was robbed! Waaaaah!

OK, I am over that! So, really, I jes' really wonder why ya'll don't ever leave any comments. Does my breath stink? Didn't ya like my picture? It's my navel, ain't it? I figgered it was scarin' people off by always hidin' in the shadows when came time to gaze upon it. I'll poke it once or twice with my finger. That'll teach it a thing or two, I'll bet. End of report.

A bit of lookin' inward at my soul

I guess I oughta be thankful to Sweet-n-Sassy for pointin' out a great piece of soul-searchin' equipment. I bent, folded, and mutilated my allotment of appropriately sized punch cards, fed them through the Univac so as to tabulate my results, and the followin' card popped out:

You Are a Traveler Soul

You're a thrill seeker who loves to be active and on the move. You love to wander: between places, ideas, and people. A good communicator, you're a nonconformist and interested in the world. You are an explorer, a good storyteller, and a true dreamer. Because you're always on the move, you can be a bit fickle. It's difficult for you to make personal commitments. Don't be so quick to ignore emotional issues and problems. You're much more intuitive and psychic than you think. Souls you are most compatible with: Retrospective Soul and Dreaming Soul

What Kind of Soul Are You?

Ever'thin' I know 'bout Australia I learned while watchin' Kangaroo Jack

A person I count as one of my best friends 'mong those I have not yet met* is my mate, Ozguru. He comes 'round and comments regularly, is always linkin' to my blog, usually lovin' to copy my jokes and then jes' link back to where he clipped 'em, but what the hey - that is the nature of the game, and I am always game, ain't I? We also often get into some interestin' email discussions 'bout variances 'tween life and stuff goin' on in the US, sometimes jes' limited to the local area where I live, and the way they do things and say things in the Land of Oz. Did I fail to mention that he has also pledged to buy 5 copies of my book, whenever it finally gets out. What with my one other person who has promised to buy a copy, as well, that makes 6 books I am guaranteed to sell. I am pretty sure that, if I pressed him to do so, my friend from Oz wouldn't send me a check .... or is that cheque? I might have to go back and re-watch Crocodile Dundee again.

Since I started discussin' movies, let's look into somethin' the sometimes bothers me. Remakes. I mean, comin' out soon is Flight of the Phoenix. I can almos' bet ya that the cast of that movie could not do better than the cast of the 1965 original The Flight of the Phoenix. What is it with Hollywood that they cannot find new stories to tell. A Star is Born has been remade twice. As much as I admire Harrison Ford and the way his career has gone from American Graffiti, through the original Star Wars trilogy and then Indiana Jones, and dozens of other great roles, he could not have played Linus Larrabee [Sabrina - 1995] as well as Humphrey Bogart [Sabrina - 1954]. And they were genuinely foolish to think anyone could have ever replaced Audrey Hepburn. I don't even wanna get started on the remake of Kangaroo Jack,** with Adam Sandler playin' the jackass.***

My navel was in charge of keepin' the footnotes in order durin' the creation of this post. It was a hard taskmaster, I tell ya, but it did a fine job. I think it deserves a big hand for such, don't ya'll? End of report.

Hi, I'm Larry, the newly rehired assistant. I have been supposedly put in charge of who and what gets linked on Read My Lips from this point on, or, until I get fired again. ^{Think positive stupid.} I wanted to tell all of you fine people who are wondering about the linking policy that I am planning to write up a FAQ on the subject as soon as I get back from the AA meeting. ^{Oops, I forgot, I wasn't supposed to tell. It's anonymous.}

*Another in this subset would be that fine person, Pixy Misa, the Saint of Munuvia, himself, who is also an Aussie.

**Oh, come on, I had to find somethin' to link. Surely none of ya'll really thought they would remake that movie, right. The damn sequel has not even been made, as yet. I think the sequel is call Kangaroo Jack Meets Jerry McGuire,**** the plot bein' somethin' 'bout showin' each other some money, or somethin' like that.

***That was simply uncalled for!*****

****Hey, I coulda jes' linked whatever is the next Owen Wilson movie, ya know? Give me a break, will ya?

*****I am capable of chidin' myself for my bad behavior, on occasion.

My mind is mired in a maze of messy matters

I noticed a lull in visitation 'bout 7:00 p.m., central whatever* time. I'm 'spectin' there musta been a good match on WWF Smack Down and ya'll was too busyin' watchin' them 'rasslin' 'round the ring 'stead of comin' here to read 'bout how I am doin' with my book and whether or not there has been a navel sightin' this evenin'. Well, to answer your question, no there hasn't. There is a severe chill to the air this eve and the navel ain't poked out to even see what was for supper tonight. The chill is startin' to effect me, as well, and I seem to feel that double-layer of goose-down beckonin' me to come crawl under it and get warm. Ya'll'll** forgive me for lettin' ya down tonight, right? Sure ya will. I got a good feelin' 'bout ya'll. Ya sure look like a decent group of folks and I am pleased ya dropped by. I'll let my navel know ya did. I hope ya will scroll down a bit and sample some of the goodies I left out for ya to look over. I jes' can't fight off the tug of those warm covers awaitin' me any longer. My navel seems to be tuggin' me in that direction, as well. TTFN!*** End of report.

*I know it swaps from standard time to daylight savin's time, I jes' never ever can figger out which one is effect.

**Anybody tells ya'll that they're a true Texan and can't correctly pronounce ya'll'll is likely some con artist ya'll'll likely not soon forget.

***Ta ta for now!

Beatin' those pesky neurons into line

Yep, here at Read My Lips, neurons are hard at work in an attempt to create some of the most innovative and bizarre word patterns, as well as colorful verbal visions, that can be found anywhere within the immense blogosphere. How is this accomplished, you ask? Well, 'member that little imp I was discussin' earlier? He tortures the all those little neurons until they produce all the fine crap you are allowed to freely browse upon at a leisurely pace here on read My Lips. I did promise you a pic of that little imp, didn't I? Well, he is a bashful little fellow and is hidin' behind the curtain below the fold. He is, of course, the one in the very somber outfit.

This column is the property of my navel, and it approves of this message. End of report.

Click to enlarge

Shiver me timbers, maties, me teeth is chatterin'

Well, ain't today Talk Like a Frozen Pirate Day? ^{~Oh George, there is a blog behind this little boxy thing I type in a'fore publishin' these posts, and I am seein' the little trios of bouncy snowmen fallin' and bouncin' all over the place and a picture of a little reindeer toy goin' 'round and 'round the browser window. CLICK!~} I mean, am I on the wrong page in the meme book? I was positive that today was Talk Like a Frozen Pirate Day, and yet, I have been surfin' the sites, both blogrolls and BE, for the better part of the day and ain't seen anyone else a chatterin' like a frozen pirate. Oh, there be plenty of chatterin', it bein' cold outside and such, they jes' weren't effectin' the pirate-like methodology, kinda hunchin' and squintin' an eye while writin' down their thoughts. All the hunchin' has given me a backache.

Naw, I am sure me backache is from liftin' up that big trashcan to dump it into the toilet after it had filled with water. I was usin' my kitchen trashcan to catch a tricklin' stream of hot water flowin' from the top of my hot water heater. This event may be jes' another cog in my run of bad luck. Nothin' seems to be goin' right, 'round here lately. It's mos'ly jes' this season, though. Business always crawls to a close durin' the holidays and the dryin' up of my cash flow usually causes my spirits to really sink. Thankfully, the plumber ain't gonna cost me nuthin'. I rent this place. I jes' ain't got no hot water until tomorrow when said plumber arrives to install a new hot water heater.

It really is cold 'round here, but from my readin' of a bunch of blogs, that seems to be goin' 'round in most places 'round the country. It won't stay that way here, forever, here in North Central Texas. I 'spect we'll have a good 80 degree day or two some time durin' this winter period. We always seem to get a couple of those warm winter days ever' year. My navel prefers warmer days. It'd prefer to not even crawl from underneath some warm coverin' should the temperature be the least bit chilly. End of report.

[Addendum: When I refreshed after publication of this post, the .css file finally refreshed and I experienced the site with the new look. Overall, I am pleased. I need to add somethin' to identify the site on the archive pages, though. I'll try to get to that tomorrow. End of addendum.]

A long day went without much bein' accomplished

Well, shoot, where did the day go? Here is it, almost over and this is on my second post of the day. Hmmm, unusual for me, it seems. Well, actually I was rather busy, though, at what, might you ask? Well, for one thing, I created several of the characters in my book by usin' the same thing I used to make those two graphics in the last two posts from last night. I also created a few others as well. I was jes' havin' fun and keepin' my mind off of the stuff that is botherin' me right now, which is to figure out what is my next step in gettin' on with my life. I was kind of hopin' the book would be takin' off by now, and I can't even get it published. I'd almost be pleased to actually have anyone in the publishin' industry familiar with sci-fantasy jes' read the damn manuscript and, if in their opinion, it was not worth publishin', then I would know and could go on with my life. The trouble is, is that no one who has actually read my manuscript has said anythin' 'cept that they think it will be a best seller and will become a top-drawin' movie, so WTF is it still sittin' in my lap? Well, 'cause I don't know the first thing about gettin' a book published. I can also admit I ain't so great in findin' any assistance is doin' so, 'cause I wrote about 25 different literary agencies and none were even willin' to talk to me. See, it seems that the age of computers has allowed ever'one to write a book, so the market is flooded with manuscripts and who the heck has time to read them all. I sure as heck can't read ever' blog on my blogroll on a regular basis, so I have some understandin' of the problem. But, I think I only need one person, some avid fan of sci-fantasy stories with some connection to the publishin' industry to read the manuscript and suggest the right person to give it a look over and I am home free. I am jes' not sure where and how to find that right person.

The blog makeover is 'bout completed. I spent quite a bit of my time reworkin' templates and .css files, as well as doin' a bit of graphic creatin'. I am usin' Zongo's abandoned home as my test site if ya'll wanna have a look at my efforts to this point.

Anyway, I apologize for not bein' the best blogger today. I know I did very little to make anyone smile. I ain't really smilin' much myself, but I got so damn much on my mind. Christmas is a bad time for me. I tol' all ya'll that last year. It ain't gotten any better since then. I am alive. I plan on stayin' that way. I gotta see Alura climb her way to the top of the NYT best seller list. My navel is disgusted that I am in such a foul mood and refuses to take part in this report. Another straw, I guess. End of report.

I woulda been here a bit sooner but I couldn't find my glasses

I am so absolutely giddy 'bout bein' able to do that creation in my prior post. Do ya know what it is like to carry the vision of someone in your head forever and ever and find it so utterly difficult to describe 'zactly what ya see. It's kinda like me, huh? There be a few out there that have no idea what I look like, do ya? Well, I look somewhat like this, only not quite as good lookin', the belly is a bit bigger and the pecs are a lot softer:

Hey Rocky, watch me pull a rabbit outta my hat!*

Yeah, I jes' now looked at the clock and saw how late it is. Almos' midnight so I need to get started gettin' this report out, whether I am ready or not, so here it comes: ^{~midnight jes' chimed~} So what kind of zaniness can I concoct for your enjoyment pleasure this evenin'. Pardon me for a few minutes while I tip back in my chair and gaze toward my navel while I wait for an idea of some kind to come to mind, if ya don't mind? You're so kind. Aha, whatta find! Ya'll 'member sometime these las' few days where I mentioned I used to belong to some of the MSN Groups prior to bloggin'. On one of 'em, we used to play a lot of games, ever'one always tryin' to come up with somethin' new. Well, the only game I ever came up with, and it was also one I was purty good at, was to see who could come up with the longest sentence uses all words startin' with whatever letter was up, alphabetically. So, the first round would be letter "A."

An Amarillo adult aged armadillo, afoot and awkwardly ambling across an avenue, ably averaged about an arms-length as an auto accident abruptly aborted any additional advancement. (26)

[Addendum: Caption contest: My first one ever! What is this bird sayin' to the other:

*Oops, wrong hat!

Sorry I'm late, but I got sideswiped by a zinger

Ha ha! Take that Batman! That got your attention! GOOD. I've got somethin' to say, but I forgot what it was. Wait, I'm sure we did this gag before. Any of ya'll wanna search the archives for the reference point? I know some of ya'll are kinda petty 'bout the rules. Then some of ya only be concerned wid da rulz! Then some of ya'll jes' don't care and are clickin' out already. 'N' ya'll're gonna the ones to miss the good stuff.

I have been doin' so much BE surfin' these las' few days and am comin' 'cross a lot of new bloggers. I mean 'tain't 'zactly like I'm Glenn Reynolds or Dave Winer or some of them other bloggers that took up the habit sometime las' century, but I'm past the 18-month mark ^{~clock jes' struck midnight for ya'll highly particular people who fret so much 'bout the dates~} and that makes me a fully qualified toddler-level blogger, or is that bloggist? It could be blogologist! Such high status now allows me to toddle in here and tell ya'll somethin' 'bout the art, essence, or purpose of bloggin'. Yeah, yeah, yeah, Virginia, I know it ain't like I ain't done it a few times previously, but ag'in, it's gonna be your job to search the archives for those reference points, 'cause I've got some bloggin' advice to give. This really ain't gonna be like I ever have done this before. It prolly ain't like no one done it before, 'cause so far as I know, ain't no one ignorant enough to do stuff like I do it, no how.

So, I know that suspense is really startin' to itch ya, so here it is. Bloggin' is mostly jes' 'bout personality. PERIOD. Whenever ya begin to blog, ya breathe life into a livin' document. You have , in effect, created a thing called blog. Blog has a visual presence: a hopefully unique look or appearance. Due to a variety of browsers, resolutions, and screen qualities, such look can be very different to many different visitors. You want to take pride in the face you present to the public via your blog. Ya should be wantin' to show a face 'pon which other people will enjoy lookin', 'least those certain ones that might actually even care to hear what it is that ya have to say. That is the other part. Your blog has to have a voice and it must have somethin' of interest to your intended audience. Bloggin' is a lot like real life: cliques develop, and soon ever'one finds their niche in the blogosphere.

I ain't gonna tell ya'll what to do or how to do it, 'cause if'n I knew how to be the best blogger in the world, Glenn Reynolds wouldn't be sittin' atop the pyramid and I wouldn't be languishin' 'mong the masses mired in the middle of the herd. Jes' be yourself and allow your voice be heard. But before I let ya get back to doin' that, I actually do have one last thing that I want to tell all of ya'll Blogger users: Blogger templates are the epitome of pathetic. I mean, it ain't that those templates are so atrocious, well -- a couple of 'em really are pretty horrible -- it is jes' that about 5000 other people are also usin' the same one you are usin'. Tweak somethin', people! Learn some .css or pay some of these other bloggers a few bucks to do it for ya. While mos' of the rest of us have already discovered that blog*spot doesn't really offer reliable service, my not-so-limited experience has likewise disclosed that there are a lot of other places that don't either. Thankfully, Pixy takes care of us Munuvians. ^{~knock on wood~} Blog on, brothers and sisters, blog on!! Jes' 'member this one thin' if ya 'member nothin' else -- I personally have a ver' hard time findin' fault with any blog 'pon whose blogroll I find displayed a prominent link to my own blog: Read My Lips.

Now with the way this post began, did any of ya'll think it would end up bein' somethin' like this? Even I couldn't have predicted such and it was my brain responsible for regurgitatin' all of that. I 'spose then, that we was all a bit s'prised 'bout that change of direction. I'm gonna lay the blame for such squarely 'pon my navel. End of report.

I really was only playin' for the prize money, ya know

Well, seems I did not do well in the Mystery credit winnin' on Blog 'Splosion tonight. I only won 3 of such, which is a severely paltry showin' indeed.

In other news, I thought surely I came close to my 26 post daily record today, or, at least, I think that is the record number, but ain't really sure anyway. I know I have posted close to that number on many occasions, but got nowhere near that many today. I ain't sure why I thought I had. Maybe 'cause I forgot that I was busy all mornin' and didn't post anythin' until later this afternoon.

I didn't bathe today. That is highly unusual for me, but, did I previously tell ya'll how my shower head would drip right down onto the tub faucet and splash all over me while I was doin' whatever durin' the time it took the tub to fill? If I didn't, now ya know. Well, anyway, I didn't report yesterday that the plumber finally came by yesterday mornin' while I was lolli-gaggin' round after gettin' back from goin' to the monthly settin' for one of the two district courts that cover our county. I didn't show I had anythin' set, but I always have the date on my calendar, jes' in case, and will drop by to insure I didn't forget a settin' of some type. Well, I didn't have anythin', so I came back to the house for some reason or other. So the plumber sees my car in the drive and decides yesterday is a good day to fix my shower. The part didn't work, so the shower is not fixed, but whatever the plumber did screwed up the water pressure to the faucet. The water ran for over an hour this mornin' and didn't come close to fillin' the tub. I was runnin' late and had to jes' skip my mornin' bathin' ritual.

My navel is unwashed. End of report.

'Twas a day like none other

Yep, such is so very very true. As far as I know, there has never previously been a December 8, 2004, at least not in this century. Now, I could be wrong, but I a purty sure that I ain't. I'd almos' be willin' to bet some money on it. ^{~egads! I plum' forgot to buy my lotto ticket~} 'Course, I ain't got no money and, willin' as I might be to bet, I'm sadly without the means to do so.

My navel did much better than my weenie wolf, today. I ain't real sure 'zactly what occurred, but I think he got whupped up on by a much bigger dog. That happens to him quite often, as he believes that he is a rottweiler. Duke is crouched at the back of his house lickin' his wounds, or, mos' likely, lickin' off the bacterial antiseptic that I used to doctor his wounds. I'm convinced that he definitely ain't feelin' well, 'cause I tried to give 'im a piece of left over hamburger from my own dinner. He refused it even though I held it right in front of his nose. Normally such a treat would have been snatched so quickly from my hand that I'd be forced to check that I wasn't missin' a finger or two.* I've continually checked on him, though, and he 'pears to be improvin' hour by hour. I 'spect he'll be back up and ready to fight pit bulls soon.

My navel couldn't fight its way outta a knit sweater. I know. I got it firmly confined within one as I pen this tiny tome. End of report.

*Though rare, he has, on occasion, errantly** bitten the hand that feeds him.

**I have had reason to question his motivations with regard to a couple of incidents.

Decisions, decisions, decisions

I am dead in the middle of a major change of some sort in my life. I ain't real sure what change that might be and, as fearless as I am on a usual basis, I am quakin' in my boots wonderin' which way to turn: right, left, north, south, up, down, in or out? I can't decide and don't know where to go for help. I miss my momma. End of report.

[Addendum: I am almost 50 years old and it has been a long long time since I last cried. For some reason, I jes' started to do so. End of addendum.]

Sometimes ya feel like a nut, sometimes ya found that ya are one

Wee wee BE. Seems the the more ya surf, the more visitors they send you way. 'Course, funny thing is, I was always gettin' a purty nice share of visitors, at any rate. Bein' the king of the Google searches, or at least one of the king's boot lickin' lackeys, I found I had more daily visitors than daily readers. I don't necessarily want the click-throughs, but I find myself often wishin' that 30 second timer would speed up a bit, so I know I ain't gonna please all the people. However, I was of the 'pinion that surely a large percentage of people would find some entertainment in my mundane diatribes. I jes' assume that such would equate the level of popularity that I possess IRL. Oh wait, IRL people encircle me in hopes they can convince me to assume responsibility for their problems gratis. At least ya'll ain't askin' me for nuthin' -- even though I often ask ya to do so. How very many times over the last year-and-a-half-plus have I asked ya'll to provide me a bit more feedback with regard to what ya like and don't like so as to guide me toward makin' this the sort of site ya'll want it to be.

Yep, I seem to have too little time to see all those blogs. BE keeps sendin' me to some really cool new blogs. I have added quite a few new ones to the blogroll and have blogmarked a lot in my BE console. I jes' ain't got the time it takes to keep up with it all. I fretted so much 'bout readin' ever' word that so many of ya'll had placed 'pon the electronic platters of your respective blogs that I forgot that Dallas was playin' on Monday Night Football. 'Course, mighta been a good thing, since ever' since I turned on the game, the Cowboys seem to have been self-destructin'.

I was so steadily surfin' that I, as seems to occur so frequently, forgot to eat anythin'. I was prowlin' though the 'fridge assessin' my dinin' options and ever'thin' within the confines of that mostly empty box was a bit too spicy for me to eat this late. There was a variety of cheap pizzas, some leftover goulash from last night, and some left-over lasagna from whenever, the latter two too solidly frozen to be easily heated, as well. I suddenly 'membered the purchases I made yesterday. 'Mong such items as I unbagged and put away was a six-pack of Emperor Ramen's Magical Manna.* I delightfully dined on a pair of such packets without too much bother.

The navel has requested that I announce the firin' of our former advertisin' agent, Larry. Due to strict instructions from our attorneys, we are unable to discuss the matter further. The navel additionally moves that ya'll increase the level of your commentary. I second that motion. All who agree vote "aye." End of report.

[Addendum: Julius Jones!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! COWBOYS WIN!!!!!!!! I need to go to bed ^{an hour ago}. End of Addendum.]

*Such is not actually the product's brand name. That phrase is totally my creation.

And when the dust finally clears...

^{~Three pages of really borin' crap erased~} Ya know, one bit of Internet madness that I would never have envisioned in my wildest dreams 'bout the future, such beginnin' in the early 60's when I began my acquaintance with the Book of Roddenberry, was that one of the most popular things to keep up with is the stuff that gets sold on Ebay. I don't recall any vision of the existence o' Ebay in my visions of the future. In fact, in my visions of what I 'spected to see in here in the 21st Century, the skies were filled with flyin' cars. I don't really want no stinkin' ipod, ya'll, I want my flyin' car.

Anyway, gettin' back to the inane stuff people sell on Ebay. I am purty sure ever'one recalls the recent sale of a grilled-cheese sandwich. Ya prolly 'member the guy that sold all of his belongin's, what?, earlier this year. I myself was a bit appalled when I heard that one couple was actually proud of themselves for buyin' his garbage. I'm always seemin' to run 'cross stories 'bout those idiots runnin' 'round stealin' stuff and then tryin' to auction it off via Ebay. Now some woman is sellin' her father's ghost. I did read the story and actually am well aware of 'zactly what it is that she is sellin' and jes' why she is doin' so. I am purty sure her bidders likewise know what they are gettin'. Although that grilled-cheese sandwich sale was a bit on the bizarre side, ya'll long time readers likely 'member how I once took advantage of a plastic Jesus found floatin' down the Rio Grande. Now, havin' led ya through that minefield of prior evidence, I have a really 'portant question to ask of ya'll: how much do ya think I could get for the air in my navel?

I have had a miserable weekend filled with deja view: hour 'pon hour of previously seen TV. Ever' movie and show on ever' station was somethin' I had previously seen, none of which were really worth seein' ag'in. I caught my second ever episode of The West Wing jes' now and it was a rerun of the same episode I had previously seen. Even the football games seem to go 'bout the same way I 'spected them to go. My general best option in such case is to turn the channel to PBS, but the station is in the middle of their pledge week programmin'. Blah TV.

Then there was the fall-out surroundin' Blog 'Splosion where stuff ya are readin' seems to filter down and effect what ya do durin' the day. Oh, guess it was not all that bizarre if I can only recall a couple of such events. What? ya ask. First of all, I read a blurb 'bout some gal cookin' goulash, 'membered how much I liked it, went shoppin', bought the ingredients, came home and cooked goulash. Then, later I 'member tellin' someone in their comments that I hardly ever 'sperienced writer's block any more. Now I find myself sittin' here writing the most borin' three hours of diatribe to share with ya'll in this report. I'm sure ya'll 'member readin' my blurb above tellin' ya I had erased it, right? What? So, ya think this is purty borin', as well?? Uh? Writer's Block? ^{Ya'll did catch that appropriate whiny inflection on the end of that, didn't ya?} Pullin' snarky inane crap outta the those little cracks in my brain tonight is harder than ^{~appropriately long spell of deep reflection so as to come up with the perfect metaphor~} removin' postage stamps from an elephant's foot. ^~groan~ George, that is jes' bad! If I can't sell this navel, can any of ya'll think of a way I might be able to trade it in for a new model -- or, at least, maybe possibly jump it off usin' an approved navel of the appropriate sort. End of report.

OTBTJTB™

The future forecast has been revealed

Yep, I know most of ya'll big fans of this report were aware of the significance of today, but I wholly 'spect that mos' of these 30 second viewers were without a clue that today, December 5, is Navel Gazing Day. Yep, today is the officially annual sanctioned day for ever'one to strip, sit back in their favorite chair, clear their mind and gaze idly at their navel. The future is forecast for the winter solstice dependent 'pon what one sees when one is gazin' toward one's navel in this position. If you can easily and fully view your navel, feel free to indulge yourself in delightin' in all those yummy holiday goodies. If you could see it, but were unable to view its bottom without movin' your head, ya better pass on ever'thin' 'cept the raw veggie tray, and if you were unable to see it at all . . . well, 'spose your doctor has already given ya the speech, huh?

My forecast was purty good. The mound of my Buddha belly was not so rounded that I could not see somewhat into my navel's dimple, so that means I need to stick with that veggie tray, the little sausages in grape jelly sauce, and less than I want of crackers and cheese.

Sadly, I stared at this blank page for an hour or more tryin' to come up with somethin'. Regrettably, the best I could come up with is the foregoin'. That's sad, that's really sad. It's so sad that there will be some charitable organization gettin' involved and playin' commercials full of sad-eyed malnourished children askin' for funds so as to assist me in bein' more creative. You will be told how essential it is that I continue to deliver only the best of my inane snarky wit to those poor little children. Your help would only cost you pennies a day. Think how much your heart will gladden when you realize how much your small donation has assisted some impoverished child, located in the midst of a very desolate area somewhere on the face of the planet, to wryly smile. ^{~one of those $500-a-minute 1-900 numbers pans across the bottom of the screen~} Make the call. ^{~flash on hundreds of sad little, big-eyed children overflowin' from the screen~} Your call means so much to these poor little children. Don't they at least deserve to smile? ^{~number scrolls across the bottom of the screen~} And, remember this: NAVEL GAZIN' IS A HORRIBLE WASTE OF YOUR TIME Laughter is still the best medicine.

Havin' been granted the right to bask in full glory on this Navel Gazin' Day, the navel is exhausted and was unable to attend this briefin'. The staff wishes to thank you for your kind and gracious indulgence in overlookin' this small matter of expected protocol. End of report.

Colorfully costumed, cleverly choreographed, & cosmically charactered

Well, I was away from computers and the wild woolly web for the better part of the afternoon and up to jes' 'bout this very point. If'n ya don't recall, or it is your first visit here, I was gifted tickets to a performance of the Cirque Du Soleil from another blogger for this afternoon. Well, I and my companion, and it was so regrettable that we were unable find a third party to use the remainin' ticket of the trio I was given, immensely enjoyed the show. Although I have caught bits and pieces of the various different shows over the years on television, this was my first live vision of this magnificent creation. My companion was even more ecstatic than I, as she was an avid fan of the troupe, eagerly awaiting their ever' appearance on Bravo. Together, and together with the rest of the nearly full house audience, we sat enraptured as various costumed characters crawled onto the stage crept, crawled, and otherwise filled the stage. A virtual myriad of activity filled the stage as comics, acrobats, and dancers provided a broad extravaganza of entertainment. It was only sublimely choreographed and set to an eclectic soundtrack. These seats we had we four rows back, and, durin' parts of the show, the aerialists were flyin' above our very heads. I clapped and clapped and clapped some more. Ever'one did. The show was practically flawless, though not absolutely so. I witnessed a couple of miscues durin' the acrobatic performances, but on the level of the performances proffered, the minor flaws were so easily overlooked. It was a thoroughly imaginative feast of fancy, to me, much akin to a modernization of Will Shakespeare's A Midsummer's Night Dream. I was awed and delighted with what I saw. I had a marvelous time, a most thoroughly marvelous time and will now have a cherished memory thanks to the generosity of havin' met someone through a chance Internet encounter. Thanks, Sheryl. I never find a way to repay your generous gift. My dreams will be filled with vivid Technicolor for a long time to come.

After the show let out, it was still early, and as I currently live about 90 minutes from Dallas, thought I would take my friend to another place she might enjoy visitin': Fry's. She was thrilled to do so and we toured the store for an hour or so to walk out with a 50-pack of CD-R disks. Afterward, we dined at a nearby Taco Bueno® before makin' the long drive to the home burg.

I arrived home, and, of course, like any good blogger, hurriedly threw each of my dogs a dog biscuit, slammed the door, and moved straight to my computer to connect to the wild woolly web and see who had commented on my blog. Surprisin'ly, I found not a one. I 'spect I likely wouldn't have gotten any visitors 'cept for continually gettin' every Google searcher lookin' for lips of any kind. I swear I saw someone searchin' for ship lips the other day. I thought it kinda bizarre, but then it might have jes' been someone who could not quite recall the exact sayin': Loose Lips Sink Ships. They might have only 'membered that it was somethin' to do with lips and a ship, hence such terms bein' used in the Google searcher. I often use a search engine to assist me in locatin' quotes dragged from deep within my fragmented memory. Jes' the other day, I did a search on Tibet lama so as to ensure the correct spellin' of Dalai Lama. Needless to say, why ever that person was searchin' for ship lips, they were brought to my site. The same seems to hold true for skunk lips, whale lips, or jes plain ol' lips. Yep, lip seekin' Google searchers, that is my audience. And they don't comment much. They also prolly don't actually find what they were seekin' either, but they keep comin' and comin', day after day. If I knew what kind of products lips seekin' Google searchers were interested in, I might could make a pretty penny, or even a dull one, hawkin' wares on my site. I jes' ain't a good businessman. I did think I was a good writer, though, but I am startin' to have doubts 'bout that.

These concerns really trouble my navel. End of report.

How in the world do ya top yourself?

Man, oh, man, oh man! I mighta shot my wad with that last post. I opened a little door into a memory of an ol' Twilight Zone or Outer Limits episode, I think. Kinda like Nick at Night after a visit with Barry Bonds' trainer.* Oh George! Yeah, ya'll, it's still the same George from the previous post. Who is he? Well, he's not the George who was jes' reelected President, nor his daddy, nor the wheelchair bound ex-governor of Alabama, nor the electric low-fat grill promotin' ex-heavy-weight boxer and his seven children all sharin' the name George, but jes' George. No one specific, jes' plain ol' ordinary, no one knows who he is, George.

OK, OK, if ya really gotta envision somebody to make it work for ya, its Curious George, little red hat and all. What? Ya gotta problem with that? OK, the heck with George -- let's jes' go with Barney, by Barney! Already got that vision of that big purple dinosaur stuck in your mind? Ready to give up? I thought, so, by George, I figgered ya couldn't take it for long. Hey, I know 14 out of the last 6 visitors that hit this site have already left by now, but you're still here, aren't ya? Ya really do love me, don't ya? My navel really needs a hug and I am totally helpless to assist the poor little fella. Won't ya give, for a poor helpless love starved navel? It's jes moments a day, jes' wee little packets of time to show your love and affection for my navel's domain. Where's that? You're lookin' at it. Here's lookin' at you, kid! I ain't lookin' that one up. It's on the list. Read My Lips. Often, cause they are always flappin'. End of report.

*I jes' throw stuff like that in here and there to let ya'll know that I ain't ignorant of the big news stories of the day. I read Instapundit, too.

It was a really long hard day and I am feelin' a bit worn out

Feelin' the way I do, I think I will jes' echo what Susie said. I know ya 'spected more, but sometimes ya feel like a nut, sometimes you gotta agree that such is a correct assessment. Actually, I spent the last hour and a half readin' all the blogs on my main roll that were updated since my last post, and there are a lot of people down with some ailment or 'noter. I think I might have caught it from one of them. It might be the first known case of a computer virus actually infectin' a livin' creature. End of report.

Little Dutch boys midst the windmills of your mind

Hey, ya'll, that title ain't literally discussin' your mind. This is my show, ya know? If any minds are involved, my mind is fully available and adequate for any tasks assigned. ^{~little man on my shoulder asks me to solve a quantum physics problem that seems to have him befuddled~} Uh, let me rephrase that, my mind is fully available and possibly adequate for any tasks assigned. I gotta admit, however, given the mental situation I was wrestlin' with a bit ago, I am s'prised that I am even capable of providin' this report. I am doubley, no, tripley s'prised that I was able to compose this and that. And, although, anyone may not think that this was worthwhile, such inane thought 'twas the very beginnin' of this snowball. I am most appreciative to that vision of a little wooden shoe Dutch boy with a big finger to seal that black hole that was suckin' away all my strange thoughts. I'm gonna have to end this, though, as that little Dutch boy seems to now be wincin' badly and strangely crossin' his legs as if in some physical distress. I am sure I don't need no Dutch mama with a rollin' pin poundin' my cranium from the inside, so I had better dissolve that vision soon.

My navel was not as lucky as I. It is still mired in the predicament of which we shall not speak. End of report.

The problem is essentially binary in nature

^{~silently drummin' fingers on the dais waitin' for the unruly crowd to assemble~} Friends, associates, and that one or two of mine enemies that linger in your midst, I come before you, head held erect in recognition of the high esteem that has been bestowed upon me by this august assembly.^{~rudely awakened durin' daydream of bein awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Literary Achievement in Blog Creativity by barkin' dogs~} Oh no, I was bloggin' ag'in in a catatonic state. Vie on you, Bill the Cat. Whatever has infected you all these years is communicable to humans. Now I'll have to stay away from the funny papers. ^{~Nope, that was goin' nowhere~} Maybe I ought to zombie out ag'in and let my subconscious have the reins. That'd kinda be like the closest thing to actually lettin' my navel do the postin', huh? Surprisin'ly, though, it is a wonder how much of the stuff you find on this blog was actually composed while I was unconscious. I dream up most of this crap, ya know - while I'm supposedly awake, usually while I'm doin' other stuff, like drivin', watchin' TV, or listenin' to the radio, or, as strange as it may seem, while I am starin' at a blank wall, blank page, or down at my navel. O' course, as Serenity said

I may not be “on” every day

I may not be "on" ever'day

Greenberg says music just fills his head and he has to write it down to get it out

OK, who turned off the lights? It's too bad she won't live! But then again, who does? I can't see my navel. I hope it's still there. End of report.

I have had people walk out on me before, but not when I was being so charming.

I ain't never seen any that easy

Don't ever'thin' always seem to be so easy in the movies, love, romance, spoonin' Geena Davis? Earth Girls Are Easy: I thought I hadn't seen this one, but I have seen bits and pieces of it through out the years. The story was predictable but the gags were funny. I mean with Wayans and Carrey coverin' your back, even Jeff Goldblum coulda played the lead in this flick. However, he and Geena Davis did look good together. It was not all that boring but was also not all that. What it was, cuz, was a big stretch of my imagination. I'll give it two severely used up sporks for playin'. That concludes the movie review portion of this evenin''s program. ^{~we pause now for a brief catatonic period while brain takes a coffee break~}

Seems that Ozguru is of the 'pinion that my writin' is in a class by itself. [see comments] I think that he was jes' nicely sayin' there ain't no one who writes crappier than myself.

I did notice that there was not a single visitor between 8:00pm and 9:00pm, my time, Central whatever Time. It's not really all that hard for me to imagine that ever'one in the world had somethin' better to do durin' that time than come by and check out what kind of crap I had to offer. I am jes' very very hopeful that durin' that period ya'll weren't in a secret remote location grouped all together plottin' what you were plannin' to do to me. My navel seemed quite concerned about the situation. I think it is jes' a hiccup in the space-time continuum. End of report.

*If interested. walk back behind the buildin' and ask for Larry. He ain't hard to spot, he'll be wearin' a sandwich board.

I musta left Walmart long before ya'll got there

In what has to be the slowest bloggin' day since Columbus Day in 1932, I am highly 'spectful that there was rampant commercialism takin' place in the marketplace which kept the majority of ya'll from your appointed bloggin' duties. Me, I went shoppin', too, but I wasn't gone long. Seems I got there too late to get to go through ever' DVD they was sellin' for under $4, but I did pick up three: Pale Rider, a good Eastwood western, Rio Bravo, a well-done Duke western with Dean Martin and Ricky Nelson and a lot of other stars, and Blade Runner, likely one of the best SciFi movies in which Harrison Ford took part. One of the other people pawin' through the selections tol' me it was not a very good movie.* The wackos were definitely out at Walmart. I also picked a couple more movies outta the bargain bin, the $5.50 ones: Titan A.E. and Earth Girls are Easy. I have seen the former and loved it. I ain't 'spectin' much out of the latter and hopin' to be pleasantly surprised. The strangest thing 'bout my trip to Walmart was that I bought a mountain bike. I swear, I was pushin' my cart along the area behind the registers so to check the $5.50 bin that had been in that area when I was there last Tuesday before headin' over to the electronics department. They had moved that bin ag'in, I found, so I was headin' toward where I 'spected those movies to be when I passed this lady standin' next to a pallet stacked with big boxes of mountain bikes: 26 inchers, with 15 speeds, for $40.00. Yeah, ya heard right, I said $40. I had one of those boxes placed into my shoppin' cart and then drove blindly through the store, unable to see forward 'cause my vision was blocked by the tall bicycle box.

Well, anyway, I ain't had a chance to see any of my new movies,** yet. I did assemble the bicycle though, but the tires were flat so I walked it to the store to inflate them. As I attempted to ride home, however, I discovered that I had the front forks turned backward and my foot was hittin' the front tire durin' turns. I came home, loosened the handlebars and flipped the front forks the other way. I later decided to ride the bike to the store to refill my DP cup and discovered that I had now flipped the handlebars the wrong way and had to U-turn, come back into the house for my bit driver and the large Allen wrench bit that I would need so as to reverse those handlebars. I ain't gonna describe the difficulties I had puttin' the pedals on, but it surely did surprise me that, although they looked identical, each was actually designed for one certain side. Still, I managed to air up the tires without puncturin' a tube with a spoke, so my bicyclin' skills have already improved somewhat from when I was 12. I managed to ride to the store and back and didn't fall over and scrape my knees, although I did almost run into my own front fence when I discovered that the front brake wouldn't lock down to stop my forward momentum.

I think my havin' obtained this bike might be the biggest news on the navel front for years. If I 'member the results of bikin', it seemed to always give ya a purty good workout in the abdomen area. My Buddha belly could use a good workout program. I didn't really feel like I could afford it, but I have kinda been wantin' a bicycle, and $40 was definitely a bargain. I jes' can't see how the Chinese can make stuff so damn cheap. I guess if ya can get by on a handful of rice and sleep on a mat laid out on a dirt floor and be happy, ya don't need to make much at the factory, huh? Anyway ... End of report.

*It has been voted by imdb readers as one of the best 100 movies ever made, even if it is somewhere close to the bottom of the list.

**I did, of course, watch 2001, a Space Odyssey, as earlier mentioned, which I am sad to say I understood about as well as I did when I first saw it at what, age 13. I guess, for bein' made in the pre-Star Wars days, the special effects were fair, but the movie dragged and dragged, and thank goodness the fashions did not turn out like were predicted in the movie. Jeez, weren't those funny lookin' things on the women's heads durin' those space trips atrocious? I also jes' finished watchin' X-2. I wanna be Wolverine, so bad. I mean, indestructible metallic claws jes' shootin' right outta your knuckles whenever ya feel like kickin' butt, jes' how cool it that?

It was a much better day than I imagined

I have to thank all of ya'll that left your well wishes and promises of prayer in the comment section of last night's Nightly Navel Gazin' Report™. Almost miraculously, my back pain was gone when I awoke this mornin'. Oh, not to say there was not a bit of residual stiffness, but even that seemed to subside as I began to move 'round the house. Regrettably, my head was filled with pain, but a combination of BC Powder and some generic antihistamines I had on hand, it has slowly but surely lessened with ever' passin' hour durin' the day.

I did have a lot of fun with the Thoughts on Thanksgiving post, sendin' out loads of linkylove in the process. I had to apologize for some software/server/whatever error that caused some pings to repeat over and over again. Thankfully, ever'one was very understandin' and appreciative of my efforts. Funny how I only got one trackback in return. Or maybe not so funny. I ain't gonna sweat it, as it seems I live by a different code* than most other bloggers.

I also had a real blast actually bloggin' the entire Cowboys game in real time, and ended up with a nice play-by-play recount of the win. If ya missed the game and ain't wantin' to wait for the mornin' papers to find out jes' how the Cowboys won the game, have a look-see please. Even if ya ain't carin' a whit or who won, ya can still have a look-see, if ya want.

My navel is much appreciative that I did not eat a big Thanksgivin' dinner, 'cause had I done so, I would like be sittin' here with my fly opened relievin' pressure upon a grossly bloated belly. My navel really hates findin' itself atop a grossly distended midriff. For the record, 5 oz. of Lays® Potato Chips durin' the game and a No. 2 SuperSonic® sans tomato followin' the game. Now if I can only find that cranberry flavored LifeSaver®, I will have had a pretty decent Thanksgivin' Day repast. End of report.

OUCH, that hurts! I really mean it!

It was way way past my bedtime*

Well, is my navel ever steamed at me. Seems I found this link to MSNBC's Science IQ test over at OTB and scored appallin'ly low. My navel always hates it when it feels I have done less than my best. End of report.

*I prolly ain't seen a copy of Popular Science in three decades and don't 'member the last time I had a chance to look through a copy of Omni.

Round and round she goes, and where she stops, nobody knows

Keep your eye on this spot, as this post will continue to grow until such point as I fall asleep, or . . . Hmmmmm . . . Naw, the possibility of that pipe dream occurrin' is ever so highly remote, let's jes' stick with the point where I fall asleep. Actually, we mostly have to wait on the navel to conclude whatever 'portent thin' it is schemin' up and ain't yet ready to disclose. A plan to be hatched, which hopefully doesn't involve a hatchet.

6:55 PM If'n ya have already read all the scrumptious goodies I placed upon the electronic page throughout today, ya can always go over to Ozguru's and laugh your silly head off. God created . . . Still, there are those Commandments to think of, me thinks. I'll ask George 'bout it.

7:04 PM Between 4:30 PM and 5:30 PM, I reviewed the top 20 recently updated blogs on my primary blogroll and, for 80% of 'em, either linked a story or left a comment. I intended to make it 100% but found there were times when I jes' really had nothin' to add 'cause I had no interest in the subject of the post. Still, 80% seems like a pretty fair guide-line, doncha think? I really 'spect that we could all use a bit more linky-love, right now. As for my own blog readin' practices, I generally 'tempt to read down through the most recent 5 posts or to the next previously read one, whichever comes first. Regrettably, in accordance with my own beliefs in the Golden Rule, that leaves a wide loophole here on my own blog on those few occasions when I become afflicted, as I did today, with bloggorhea.*

7:35 PM I have previously inquired on this very issue, but, on such occasion, received only three responses, the majority of which wanted a continuation of publication in dialectic. However, in the ever ongoing effort to increase my readership, I am definitely willing to reintroduce this subject for commentary. What say ye? 1. Do you like it better like this, or 2. ain't it jes' a bit more interestin' if I continue doin' it like this?

8:07 PM I have previously discussed how much better I like StatCounter than SiteMeter. First off, as I am usin' both totally gratis, I only have the utmost respect for both operations for the grand service they provide for those of us who can so sorely afford and are too stupid to write whatever program, script, or gizmo it takes to do what it is that they do. Although a large factor, my like for the one over the other has a lot less to do with the difference in the number of visitors each seems to find each day than on other things. Jes' to give ya a clue 'bout the difference in visitation numbers, however, lemme advise ya that when I installed StatCounter on April 17 of this year, I started it with the exact same count I had on the SiteMeter on that date. It was between 35 and 40K, but I cannot find anywhere to reference the exact number. You can see that there is now a remarkable difference in the visitor count between the two on this date. However, as I said, that is not what I like best about StatCounter. It tells ya ever'thin'. I get lists of the search terms, as I have previously discussed, and there are some real perverts out there. Ya ought to see some o' the word strings I find in the list. Ya can guarantee if there is the word "lips" plugged into a search engine with any other possible word you could think of, it will likely give my site a high return. I love words and feel I have a fairly large vocabulary, though, not necessarily as large as some.* Anyway, I have a tendency to scatter various words here and there in my postin'. Well, here on Read My Lips, we got both your ever'day Monthly Archives and some really post-filled Category Archives. If ya drop by regularly, ya likely noticed that I can be quite prolific at times. Checkin' through these lists of search terms, I often see where someone has hit my site on the most disgustin' search terms. My jaw drops and slack-jawed I sit silently, wonderin' how in the heck did my site come up where that subject was concerned. I regularly jes' find that they had simply accessed one of my large archive pages where one of the terms was in one post and the other was in a completely unrelated post. Of course, my friends, what is really interestin' is that I also get a whole lot of information about the person who used such search terms to find my site. I 'specially like checkin out their country of origin, and am findin' that the French might not be the most decadent society on earth, though they are still showin' a fascination with decapitation. It actually proves a very large amount of information about ever' visitor. There is easy-to-access information on length of visit and the number of return visits. I checked on their upgrade package, and thought the subscription prices were fair, but my income is still a bit too unstable to take on another monthly bill, no matter how small. Besides, my visitation volume is not yet so large that I can't live with jes' seein' the stats of my last 100 visitors. My current daily visitation average is 231, but I check my stats, on average, more than twice a day. At the current rate, there jes' ain't too much that goes on with relation to this blog, visitor-wise that I ain't savvy-wise.

9:42 PM Now ain't this a thought that runs through my head several times a day?

11:08 PM Navel's plot came up empty. In other words, navel laid a big egg.*** End of report.

[Addendum: 11:24 PM Blame it on Eric:

Virginia Woolf: Orlando. You are a challenge, for
outer events, the outside world, the time etc.
play no importance to you. Your focus is in
writing, in gender issues, and inside your own
head. Self-analysis and exploration of yourself
as well as the outer world hold great
importance to you.


Which literature classic are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

*I jes' guessed that the linked post was the earliest use of the term, but it is jes' my best guess. Feel free to do further research if such floats your boat. I, however, did also find this post which 'splains how such possibly evolved to become the appropriate word to use.

**Lest ya get the 'pinion that I ain't good to my friends, I been tryin' to find the right way to link that one particular post for a couple of days now. ;)

***Ain't that part of the charm of this site? Nuthin' ever really makes a lot of sense, but that is the general intention on a very usual basis. This blog, like life, is an endless puzzle of unanswered questions.

Pat, I think I would like to buy a vowel

Now jes' which vowel do I need? "A" is a very fine vowel, and I 'member them fondly from the ol' school daze where they were blazoned 'pon much of my task work. I been cravin' one ag'in, for some odd reason, but am findin' the teachers are sittin' on their red pencils. Still, for tonight's puzzle, I 'spose I'll pass on the "A."

I readily admit that "E" is a fantastic vowel, bein' likely the most used of all letters in the English alphabet. Keep the "E," please.

"I," "I," "I." Don't we all get enough of that from ever'one else, so I will quickly pass 'pon burdenin' ya'll with my petty complaints -- for this post, anyways. ;)

"O?" You find yourself quite pleased that I saved ya from the "I," "I," "I" whine-fest for this go round? Glad to assist, in any way I can.

No, I am feelin' quite froggy and wantin' to tell ya that for tonight, it is "U" that I want. 'Specially if ya have a good heart. Mos' 'specially if ya got a ________________ body. You'd have to crawl inside my head to fill in that blank, but feel free to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. It's either that, or I could make it a caption contest.

Karl: [Eating potted meat] I reckon it tastes alright.
Frank: You really think it's got peckers in there?

As promised, there is no navel involvement in tonight's Nightly Navel Gazin' Report™. The navel, however, will still be properly compensated as usual. End of report.

[Addendum: If life was comprised of the stuff that My Hero was made of, I would be the crud under Tyler's nails.]

[Addendum 2: Ya done delayed too long, so here is the pic:

OK, let's try not to go for the obvious, ya'll. Best caption wins five sporks and one previously used toothpick.]

Okie dokie, let's drag this can to the curb

Well, found myself in the mood for a candlelight bubble bath for some reason. I generally find such soothin' and I come out feelin' clean and as slick as a fresh licked calf.* I had to do somethin' other than to continually claw at the sides of this damn box, the infernal tomb of darkness that seeks to ensnare me and drag me deep within its depths. The bubble bath respite was brief, as its soothin' effects were washed quickly away along the river of despair that rushes in and over those yet unloved posts still found to be lingerin' 'pon the pages of my blog. Ever'thin' melts toward ebony darkness as if I am bein' pulled into a lightless vortex. I think my dear departed mother, at least, would be happy that my belly button is clean. End of report.

[Addendum: For all ya'll goin' gaga over the list of movie quotes that did make the list, here is a page full of quality lines from a movie without a single entry in contention. I especially like:

To call the police, you push 911 then just tell 'em to bring an ambulance, or a "hearst" if you're gonna kill me. Doyle Hargraves, played by Dwight Yoakam - Sling Blade - 1996

*That's somethin' my dear departed daddy used to say.

Well: jes' keep diggin' 'til ya hit the water table

I come to you, hat in hand, apologetic that I am unable to report to your this evenin' on the condition of my navel. I lost it in a poker game. Seriously, however, lest ya took a real good look at Loose lips sink ships, always do, always will posted a pair of nights ago, ya ain't got no real reason to gripe 'bout the lack of substance in tonight's report. Puttin' so much effort into a quality report such as is displayed in the above referenced post jes' to see it havin' garnered next to no attention saps my creative spirit and dampens my resolve to continuously provide my best effort in this endeavor. End of report.

The Ministry of Silly Squawks, or why nobody comments

You'll have to tell me the reason for the general lack of commentin' goin' on 'round the blogosphere, 'cause I really don't have a clue why people ain't leavin' any feedback. Heck, I have only received 2 trackbacks so far this month and only had that same number for all of last month. It ain't always been that way, but for the life of me, I can't quite put my finger on it. My navel even refuses to discuss the matter, but then it ain't big on discussions as a normal matter of course. In fact, I am purty sure I ain't heard a peep out of it since the beginnin' of our long acquaintance. That's been nearly half a century now. End of report.

Loose lips sink ships, always do, always will

^{~stares at the empty page ponderin' 'propriate prose~} Wow! neurons are poppin' off here and there tonight, like fireworks on the Fourth of July. The mental display is amazin' but try to pull a logical thought out of there, will ya? Hang on, I think we may he havin' the grand finale . . . nope, it is jes' a general cascade failure. ^{~deep shudder~} Wow! That's what ya call a brain fart! That'll knock your socks off. It'll make ya wanna sing heidi-ho! or shouldn't that be Ho! Ho! Ho! Then, ag'in, whadda I know? I'm only doin' this 'cause I'm fixin' to go.

_{If nobody reads your crap, it doesn't have to be good. It's even better if you write it in such a way that no one understands it, then even if some odd soul wanderin' through the OZzie Outback happens to run 'cross somethin' of yours and havin' absolutely nothin' better to do than to read it, he or she won't have the foggiest notion whether it is good or not.}

Nobody really reads any of this crap, do they?

My belly has turned a bright rosy pink color as my navel appears to be smirkin'. Well, 'least I can still personally amuse my own body parts. That's somethin', ain't it? End of report.

A bit out of kilter without a kilt* to be seen** found

First off, lemme say I am quite proud of that title. However, for the right price, it is for sale. Blurf. Blurf. Like you could ever understand. Here I find myself jes' grinnin' ponderin' the dumbfounded look 'pon your face as you try to figger it all out. But that be the trick of it, it ain't even there. It's all an illusion!

My navel politely declines comment. End of report.

*^{~in me best brogue~}Now don't ye be thinkin' 'bout peekin' under it, me lassie!

**Continually editorializin'. ;)

I endow ya'll with all my sympathy

I was surfin' across the channels and landed 'pon Antique Roadshow, one of the few shows that come on durin' the evenin' line-up on PBS 'cause 'spite this houseful of crap surroundin' me, I ain't got nuthin' older than myself among anythin' I own. I actually figger that the most valuable thin' I possess is on the inside of my head. That is really sad, ain't it? 'Cause that can't be worth all much, can it? I been givin' it to ya'll for free. Ain't all that great many of ya'll even takin' that offer. What does that say 'bout the value of my thoughts? That ought to be enough to keep me gazin' at my navel for a few hours. Goodnight, Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are.* End of report.

*Channellin' Jimmy Durante ^1893-1980

Tap, tap, tap ... is this thing on?

The room looks pretty empty, so I think I'll turn out the lights for tonight. Navel unconsciously concurs. End of report.

That's not cool ... it's downright chilly!!!

Well, the fall weather has finally arrived. It has been mostly in the low forties for the past couple of days and rained all day today. O' course, the extreme moisture in the air severely inflamed my sinus cavities, givin' me a horrendous headache which I attempted to suppress with a good megadose of sinus medication. Regrettably, today was one of the queasy stomach days where the medication tore me up and caused me to remain nauseous most of the day. I spent a considerable time this afternoon layin' in bed, moanin' in discomfort, some minutes hoverin' over porcelain* and finally went out and bought a quart of mashed potatoes with gravy to ingest. Thankfully, the nausea seems to have finally subsided, but the headache lingers still. Hopefully after a good night of no sleep, I will be well rested and feel much better tomorrow. Stranger things have happened.

My navel really hates it when I am feelin' nauseous. End of report.

*My sincerest apologies for the picture that must have appeared in your mind.

Whoosh! Did ya see that?

So, still 'mazed to see so many people buzzin' through on a daily basis, lookin' 'round at stuff but not sayin' anythin'. That kinda bugs me, but not sure why. I mean, I like the affirmation of people who think I am brilliant, but likely anyone who could come to that opinion likely don't have enough intelligence to correctly connect to the Internet. Yeah, anyone who thought I was brilliant would be 'mong those people whose idiocy gets passed around in lists of funny stories involvin' customer service. The people who think I am brilliant are the ones who cannot even locate the " . . . for Dummies" books for sale despite the fact they are lookin' right at 'em. And ya might be a redneck . . . yada, yada, yada. Let us all conclude that this gag has gone along long enough for this go 'round. Cherry called it whingin', which I discovered is Kiwi for whinin'. I think they pronounce their gs on the ends of words in New Zealand.

Interestin' tidbit, likely only interestin' to me, but here it is, all the same: On a Google search for Frank J. Glenn Reynolds, my blog comes up as the third return, jes' behind IMAO and Instapundit. O' course, that fame may disappear tomorrow, as ya'll all likely know how fickle Google can be from day to day.

So, to get back on this commentin' matter, I spent quite a bit time earlier commentin' on one of my favorite blogs. Bloggin' in his comments, so to speak. I 'spected his comments were gettin' more traffic than the stuff I was postin', so why not? Right?

Have I mentioned yet that I saw The Incredibles? It was literally incredible. Go see it! Denita made me. Funny thing was that I was 15 minutes late for the movie, but knowin' they show commercials and previews for like ever and ever anymore, I took a chance that I had not missed the start of the actual movie and purchased my ticket. I was right, of course, and I caught the final two or three movie previews, all bein' CG movies. I 'member one is 'bout Chicken Little, 'nother had a bunch of talkin' animals but I don't recall the name, right now, and I am still not quite sure if that thing about the sheep and the jackalope was a movie preview or was jes' somethin' that was supposed to be seen 'fore the movie, like they used to have cartoons before the picture played, back in the ol' days, when Coalie was still a pup. He's been dead for 30 years now, I guess. He lived a good long life, though. That gag itself is likely jes' 'bout as ol' as Coalie, too. I ferget who it was that I got that from, some guy I served with in the Army, but I can't picture him or 'member from what part of these United States he came. I figger, though, it musta been West Virginia or somewhere else near the coal mines, 'cause who in the heck would name a dog Coalie, anyway? So, anyway, to get back to the deal with the emergence of so many CG generated movies comin' 'round here lately is of no surprise to me. I predicted right after seein' Toy Story that it would not be too far into the future before almost all movies were created completely artificially. I am still awaitin' a future movie starin' Humphrey Bogart, John Wayne, Spencer Tracy, and the like bein' totally created on computers.

My navel was very active in the creation of tonight's report, and admittedly is responsible for much of the content choices. I jes' wanted the responsibility for this fiasco to fall 'zactly where it belongs. End of report.

Day is Done!

Well, the day started with our local Veteran's Day ceremony on the Court square, then several other events durin' the day, includin' puttin' up flags at the local cemetaries and then takin' them down at sunset time. A fun time was had by all, at least all those above the ground. Not sure about those below the ground, but am pretty sure they were somewhere else, partyin' hard. Yee Haw!

My navel took the day off. End of report.

That thing 'bout hindsight raises its head again

I don't know why I am so tired. Likely from arguin' a motion before a judge today that he failed to rule in accordance with the law and then havin' to run over the next town so as to handle another case. The hindsight thing, however, was how I messed up yesterday. The judge's mistake will be appealed, even if I have to do it for free, because I am so very very tired of judges who refuse to follow the law. Of course, my suspicion is that by the time the Court of Appeals rules on my client's case, the actual punishment will have already been done, fines will have been paid, and stuff like that, but I suspect that her conviction will be reversed and hopefully vacated.

Now, as to the hindsight matter, as most of ya'll regular readers know from havin' read my last few posts, I was at my grandmother's funeral yesterday. As most of these things turn out, all my relatives were in attendance, includin' my twin nieces, one of whom is supposed to get married early next year and one who will be graduatin' college jes' 'fore Christmas time. It had actually been a very long time since I had seen either of them, and I was pleased to be able to do so again. Followin' the funeral, however, ever'one but me went back to my Aunt's house, which was an hour or so in the wrong direction from where I lived, so I decided to come back home instead of joinin' them. I don't know why, but I awoke this mornin' wonderin' why in the heck I had not driven such a short distance to visit with them a bit longer since they live so far far away from me normally. Oh, well, we all know what they say 'bout hindsight. I blame it all on the general sense of utter weariness that has fallen over me, of late. If I had anythin' to say 'bout it, I would have requested that my grandmother waited until sometime next February to die. I think some of ya'll will 'member how down I started feelin' durin' last year's holiday season, and I 'spect this one will be much rougher than usual.

Then there is the Alura project. I am still waitin' to hear from the publisher about what the reviewers had to say and then, last night, as I was layin' awake in the time before ya actually fall asleep and all kinds of things are still runnin' round in your mind, I thought how much better it would be if I changed on minor thing with regard to one location described in the story, which will change a few things that happen in the story. Is this a sign that this book will never see completion? Oh well, as it has yet to be actually printed, I 'spose it is not yet too late to make another change. I really did think that I was finished, though, but, as I also mentioned the other day, I know think of this project as my one and only child, and I surely want it to be the best it can be.

My navel seems to be in much better spirits than I. I 'spect that is 'cause my stomach finally decided to quit actin' up, at last. Jes' a little over an hour or so ago, I was quite nauseous, for some reason, as I was drivin' home from the neighborin' town followin' my completion of all the things I wanted to accomplish while I was there. The nausea subsided about the time I arrived home, although has yet to completely disappear. As such, I am pennin' this report early and am gonna retire to watch TV from the comfort of my king-size goose-down covered bed. My navel loves that! End of report.

Despite the rumors to the contrary, I am hopelessly bewildered

My grandmother died this past weekend. It comes as no real surprise as I had anticipated the arrival of the event for quite awhile as she looked more frail each time I saw her. On the last few opportunities, she did not recognize me, even after a reminder of my identity. On the very last occasion, this past spring, I even joked with her when she professed that she did not know who I was that it was not so important that she know who I was than it was that I knew who she was. She smiled. We had the viewin' last eve'. Today is the actual ceremony where we will witness the placin' of the body into the hole in the ground. It will be a grand opportunity, as most of my ancestors, or what remain of them, are in and upon the surroundin' ground. I intimated last night that if any of my family should ever be forced to make the decision, I want to be among those whose remains are scattered upon the ground and not placed under it. It seems illogical to use valuable real estate for the storage of empty soft drink cans, which was how I tried to explain the lifeless body of my grandmother to my 4-year-old nephew, Aaron, who readily recognized me, but who has a block when it comes to 'memberin' my name.

With the demise of my grandmother, the straight line lineage is over. I have no direct ancestors left and have direct descendants below. As such, I am a fruitless branch on our family tree. I did come to the decision last evenin', however, that I actually do have a child: my literary tome. I have come to love such production dearly and am quickly growing ready to devote both my efforts and meager finances into the development of such progeny.

My navel seems to have very little concern of late, as well, bein' mired in wonderment as to the purpose of all these comments from 69.193.88.30, where some supposed named individual leaves an innocuous comment with an email address usin' that same name, as well as a Internet domain name along the order of http://www.identicalname.com. Other than the minuscule nuisance of the mystery surroundin' the appearance of such, there appears to be no other worthwhile purpose. End of report.

From the wrong side of my eyelids

The events of last evenin' passed well into the wee hours of post-midnight and, as I awaited the postin' of the returns of the massive amount of early votin' ballots, I continually wet my throat with iced tea before succumbin' and askin' my friend at the local convenience store to send me a full cup of iced fountain Dr. Pepper. By the time I was finally able to return home, knowin' that I had lost the 'lection, but still not knowin' that Bush would remain our Commander in Chief for the next four years, I was so wired on caffeine that I was unable to get to sleep right away. I 'spose I did finally succumb to slumbers at some point durin' the night, but I awoke tired and weary this mornin. I had court and Lion's Club, however, and had to pull my tired self from the midst of that warm fluffy goose-down comforter, don my clothes and return to the square. I already reported how a new day's look at the tote board disclosed my miscount of the number of votes by which I was defeated. However, by noon, I was through with all pressin' business and came home and went back to bed. I jes' now arose, yet am still quite groggy. I am glad for such, as I will likely be able to return to bed in a few hours and sleep soundly all night, thereby returnin' my sleep pattern to normalcy.

As a bit of a treat, I decided to show a few of ya'll in the large metropolitan areas who are able to sit home to watch the return flash across the bottom of their TV screens how we in small town America observe the local returns. Jes' below you will find a shot I took of the boards where the numbers are written as they come out. Last night, the area in front of these boards was packed with local people patiently awaitin' as the numbers from the six precincts were written into the appropriate areas. The number of votes cast yesterday is estimated to be in the 1600 range, whereas we waited until nearly midnight before the 1800 or so early votes were counted. Those figures indicate that we locally had approximately a 50% voter turnout, which is quite phenomenal.

CLICK TO ENLARGE

My navel professed that it still ain't all that glad to know that I lost the 'lection, but is entirely relieved that the 'lection is finally over. End of report.

The fat lady has sung, but it was a sour note I heard

Well, it is almost midnight and I jes' left the courthouse upon the postin' of the final count. Seems I was 225 votes short of winnin' the seat. I now have to decide how I am gonna make a livin'. Ever'one told me I ran a good race, that gettin' that close on my first county-wide election was a great showin'. I think so, as well, but I also know that I have struggled financially for four years to get to this point and give the local voters the choice they said they had not had for the past two elections. As it is, most of my law practice involves me drivin' to another county and workin' the courts there. I ain't sure I feel like sittin' here and starvin' for another four years to take another shot at the seat. I 'spose I ought to do as one friend of mine suggested: get some rest and save the heavy thinkin' for tomorrow.

My navel is disgusted. End of report.

[Addendum: In the light of day and with a somewhat clearer head, I took another look at the numbers. My math was off a bit last evenin' and I lost by 325, not 225. Still I have gotten a lot of back slaps tellin' me I did well for my first run at office in the local area.]

It was neither a dark nor stormy night

So, why did my connection die? Yep, without an Internet connection, I find it a bit difficult to successfully post material to my blog. I gave it my best shot, however, broadcastin' my thoughts into the air, hopin' somehow that they would find their way onto the electronic index page for all to see. Alas, my mental prowess, as great as it may be, is not capable of thought transmission . . . at least, not at this point in my mental evolution.

The effort, however, of my failed attempt at telepathic communication drained me and I found myself in need of rest. I eagerly partook of such opportunity and got 40 winks, and much much more. I awoke this morn to find a chill upon the air. Woohoo, November 2 and autumn has finally arrived. Glad I had the goose-down layer already 'pon my bed. I slept toastily.

My navel is delirious with joy. It loves stayin' warm durin' nippy autumn morns. End of report.

Too pooped to piddle, or why the floor is damp*

Well, another weekend comes to a close. Funny, though, it went by quickly and I got next to nothin' done. O' course, it ain't like I actually had all that much to do anyway, what with almost every bit of laundry bein' already done and there bein' too many dishes piled in the sink to make that a desirable chore. I saw a British reality show the other day where they made this couple face their clutter and make a lot of choices about what could stay and what had to go. The choices looked hard to do, and there seemed to be a lot of work goin' through ever'thin' so as to separate the wheat from the chaff, or something similar. I did like that crusher thing they had, though, where they chunked in ever'thin' that no one was interested in at the flea market/garage sale event. It looked like a clutter shredder and they chunked in an old computer and monitor and stuff like that. I was jes' imaginin' all the great things you might be able to produce from the finished pulp in the bottom of that crusher. With a bit of super-glue and some molds, you could create bricks and build a house from them.

My mind is continually tryin' to think of new ways to make building materials out of garbage. For some reason, such seems to be a logical use for such. It ain't like we are gonna have available space to load up with trash forever and ever. Ever' time I look, I find that packagin' becomes a bigger and bigger problem as we individualize more and more items, as well as findin' a way to throw away all those obsolete or inoperative products in our disposable, throw-away society. Wow, all that weighty thinkin' done plumb wore me out. I think I am gonna go to bed.

My navel has nothin' to add to the discussion, as usual. End of report.

*Any visions suggested by the title are the responsibility of the visionary and are in now way the fault of the author hereof.

Chicken Soup for the soup deprived

Come on, ya'll, throw me a cracker here!* One'll do, though. My navel will jes' have to settle for the crumbs. On the other hand, won't the crumbs jes' settle in my navel? End of report.

*In other words, what part of last night's report was not understandable?

It went that-a-way

My navel recommends that you jes' consider the previous post as tonight's report. I mos' heartily concur. The utter lack of meanin'ful interaction hereon quickly wears down my desire to produce a steady flow of material. What gives? Is it really as I fear, does my stuff go right over the top of most other people's heads? Is my prose absolutely incomprehensible to the masses? Do my readers stand slack-jawed in their dumbfounded stares at monitor screens full of letters and words in which they find no meanin'? Sheesh, ain't my curse a killer? End of report.

It was jes' a munu kinda day!

It seems the munu server was a bit up and down today, kinda like my day, as well. I am gonna put the whole blame on that funky lookin' dust-covered moon hangin' over heads this evenin'.

My navel seemed to have no interest in what is happenin' to the moon tonight. I was almos' sure it was enjoyin' catchin' those moonbeams last time I took a moonlight walk down the beach. I guess it jes' has a very site-specific fandom when it comes to the moon. End of report.

A Video Daily Double

In the category "Texas Republicans":

My navel was a no show at this event, which in my opinion, was jes' as well.. As for what you can see, I am pretty sure it is a combination of the lightin' and the way my pants were hangin'. End of report.

How many ideas are in a brain?

And if you run out, where do you go to buy more? If you have too many, is there a place you can sell a few off? Oh wait, we are talkin' 'bout the employment market, aren't we? Of course, if we were talkin' falsehoods, instead of novel ideas, we would need to go no farther to find an expert than the Kerry camp. There are those who believe said Mr. Kerry would say whatever, be it truth or hearsay, to win this election. One wonders what kind of lies he tells to win the trust of rich women? I mean, surely they ain't marryin' him because of his uncanny resemblance to the Democratic symbol, the ol'` mule-faced enemy collaborator. Yeah, jes' the kind of fellow we need for a Commander-in-Chief. NOT!

This message has been approved and fully-paid for by my navel. End of report.

An important official announcement

No, it ain't the reason why I missed the previous report that is the subject of this most important announcement. In fact, the nature of the reasons why I failed to post the previous report are beyond my current comprehension, so cannot yet be discussed in any forum. Let it be said that mysterious things seem to be afoot.

Nope, the big announcement is this! I have finally fully completed my manuscript. I recently completed the full and thorough hand editin' of the story, and over these past two days have implemented all such changes, plus a few other things I noticed as I ran through the computer file makin' such suggested changes, and, unless some other party makes any further suggestions, my efforts in composition of this almost 77000 word sci-fi/fantasy, action/adventure story are complete. If there be any among my regular readership who would love a prepublication opportunity to view the completed manuscript, feel free to drop me a line. Every one of you who have previously assisted me in the development of this story by reading earlier versions of this work are welcome to again review the final version.

My navel is severely disturbed in response to a uncommonly severe bout of gastric distress that has plague me dating back to last evening is currently fearful of a continuation to the scenario. I am in support of my navel in hopes that such soon subsides and never recurs. End of report.

It must get better soon, doncha think?

Wow, there are two hotly contested Congressional races goin' on in our local area and the hype goin' on is more vicious than anythin' I have seen flyin' in between the Presidential candidates. I 'spect mos' of ya'll know what I am talkin' 'bout, right? I swear that I have not seen nastier political campaigns in any prior election durin' my lifetime, though I will let ya know, I wasn't really payin' much attention to such prior to 1968. I 'spect ol' LBJ, bless his soul, played a lot of dirty tricks in his time.

Funny thing, I thought I was over the flu, yesterday, and still think I am, but I am still very congested and fatigued. I got plenty of fluids and bed rest today and will do so over the next two days, as well. You'd think after sleepin' almos' all day, I would be wide awake and rarin' to go right now, but such ain't the truth. I am yawnin' my head off and thinkin' it is time to go lay back down ag'in. Still, I do want to be careful not to develop bedsores. I assigned my navel to be on the lookout for any evidence of such. End of report.

It ain't much, ya can be sure

Well, first of all, I ain't worried 'bout who is gonna win the World Series now as I am sure it ain't gonna be the damned Yankees! WoooHooo!

Secondly, the site was down all day, as was all of the Munuvian universe, but our benefactor Pixy is not to blame. It was some mindless techs in a remote location off the coast of Madagascar who are at fault.

Thirdly, I am tired, have a headache, and my navel is fine. I do, however, think I might finally be over the flu. For those of ya'll (that bein' mainly Susie) who are sometimes concerned with the number of headaches I seem to get, what with the sinus headaches from my mold allergy, the occasional migraines that come here and there, and the occasional tension headaches that usually come from staring at somethin' without movin' my head for long periods of time so that the muscles in my neck begin to cramp. I am almos' sure this is one of the latter variety caused by my continual starin' at those typed manuscript pages over the last six or so hours and will soon be abated by a handful of choice analgesics. End of report.

Still ill

The flu that wouldn't go away hasn't. Thankfully some of the noxious comment spammers have done so. I 'spose it is the fault of mt-blacklist. End of latest and possibly earliest report ever, as this is designed to serve last night and tonight both.

It ain't over whether the fat lady sings or not

Nope, Kate Smith could be bellowin' God Bless America from way on high, but 'til my nose stops runnin' and I quit painfully coughin' up nasty stuff, whatever it is that I have contracted from who know where or why ain't finished with ravishin' my body. My navel feels clammy, as well. End of report.*

*Those of ya'll that keep track of such stuff, the reason this one did not come last night is because I was so drugged up with Nyquil by 7:00 pm that I was already in bed, and the reason it was not posted earlier today was because, as I tol' ya yesterday, I had somethin' that had to be done today, job-wise, that I really could not get postponed without causin' a lot of other people, here and there, a lot more trouble, I jes' went, stayed as far away from ever'one as possible and advised ever'one why I thought it might be a bad idea to shake their hand. Even though there was a slim chance that I might still be contagious, ever'one seemed happy that I did show up as planned, despite bein' sick. As I was doin' my best to get myself out of the house to attend such event, despite how terrible I felt then, I had no time to post the report earlier. Now, despite the fact that I feel worse that I did earlier, I, at least, have time to let ya know how things are goin.**

**For ya'll people that keep track of more inane stuff, this is likely the first post I ever did where the first footnote was longer than the whole post above. Excuse me, but I jes' sneezed all over the screen showin' this post to be published, so it is likely contagious. Spray your screen with Lysol, stat!

What rhymes with glue and you wish to avoid?

Yes, I know this is late, but I have a very good excuse. I awoke yesterday with symptoms of a severe upper respiratory infection.* You know, when you cough a lot and find each cough is painful. Then I started runnin' a low grade fever, my head began to hurt, and, soon, I decided, I must be comin' down with the flu or somethin'. I had about a half a bottle of generic Nyquil and started megadosin' about 3:00 yesterday, jes' as the Cowboys game started. I fell asleep sometime 'bout halftime, but ya don't have to tell me the score. I already know the result. Anyway, I jes' got back from the store with another full bottle of generic Nyquil and have slugged down another big mouthful and 'spect I will be goin' back to bed really soon. I might be the first in my local town to come down with the flu this year. I ain't sure that is a badge of honor, but I am hopeful I won't be get the honor of bein' the first one to die from contractin' it.

I have somethin' very important to do tomorrow, so I am gonna continue the megadosin' all day today so that by tomorrow, I will hopefully be well enough to do what I have to do. Also, I am hopeful I will also be no longer contagious. That is the main reason I am hangin' 'round the house today, as I feel it is my responsibility to avoid bein' in public as much as possible.

My navel seems to be affected, as well. I ain't heard it cough at all, but it seemed a bit warm last time I checked. End of report.

*This is actually the first time I had URI since I have quit smokin'. Nine months, two weeks, three days, 9 hours, 48 minutes and 53 seconds has elapsed since I last took a puff off of a nasty cigarette and that now means 10199 cigarettes not smoked, allowin' me to save $2,039.57 in cash as well as possibly extendin' my life an additional 5 weeks, 9 hours, 55 minutes.

I was there . . . I really was!

Well, after playin' a part in the play about a shotgun weddin' jes' last weekend, I found myself attendin' a friend's weddin' today. It made me think a bit about how I feel about weddin's and such. I 'spose I feel like most other men in that there is too much pomp and ceremony involved in such events. To my way of thinkin', it is the commitment made and not the actual activity involved with the public presentation of such. O' course, it takes two to have a weddin' and o' course, the other person involved, from what I have seen in the past, usually has a completely different opinion. I figger that if they want it all to be a certain way, no problem, jes' tell me when and where I am 'spose to show up. . . . oh, and if there are certain clothes you 'spect me to wear, be sure to set them on my bed and I will do my very best to make myself presentable. O' course, if ya really wanna play it safe, you might wanna make sure you set them up in the right order, or I might show up wearin' my BVDs outside of my trousers. I fully 'spect my mind to be filled with a lot of confusin' thoughts like ever'one else does on their weddin' day!

My navel pouted all day 'cause no one but comment spammers had a thin' to say 'bout anythin' today. I myself jes' figgered that it bein' Saturday, it was actually purty lucky that anyone at all came 'round today. End of report.

Jes' how high will it bounce?

If you threw your navel off the top of a really really tall buildin', would you hear the wind whistle through it on the way down? Would you care? If so, I doubt it would bother you for long. End of report.

[ADDENDUM: Lest this be the lamest report ever, I suppose now would be as good a time as ever to mention how unreal I think some of the reality shows are gettin'. On one show, they are recontructin' people's houses while they are away at Disney World and on a'nother they be swappin' mothers between two different households, and in another really lame attempt at supposed reality entertainment, they showed us how a bunch of Amish kids reacted when they were introduced to modern city life. What is next for reality shows: a show where they make over a pig into a horse and a chicken over into a cow?* --- Now didn't that make this post more worthy of your consideration?]

*I'll admit right now that if somethin' along the lines of "Tonight on Changin' Critters, our team of cosmetic surgeons will remake a gnat over into an elephant . . ." reached my ears, I might likely have an urge to peek in on the program.

That guy Ralph, or now we know*

I awoke with an urgent need to . . . well, let us jes' say I was really nauseous. I seem to have contracted that strange stomach virus that seems to be goin' 'round in our local area. I had court this mornin' in the neighborin' burg and thankfully had one more swallow in that bottle of anti-nausea medication, which I quickly downed. I only had one case on the docket and easily got an agreement to pass it, so a few minutes after the judge took the bench, I was back on my way out the door. It took me longer to make the round-trip drive than I spent in court and I was soon back home, and was soon curled back up in a fetal position and warmly buried up under a good layer of goose down. I jes' slept fitfully for most of the day, awakenin' here and there and tryin' to eat somethin' pretty bland. The cycle seems to be comin' to an end, at last, ya know what that means . . . I am hungry enough to eat a whole large box of Sugar Frosted Flakes^®.**

My navel was a reluctant volunteer in today's activities, findin' itself as the exact point at which the belly should be pressed against that white porcelain on several necessary opportunities. End of report.

*Was my early evenin' exhaustion I referred to in the previous report a portend of what I was in for today?

**Cousin Tony said I owed him a product mention for havin' flagrantly misused his famous line in one of my earlier reports.

Where did that fit of exhaustion come from?

Well, again, I found myself gettin' too weary too early last eve' and ag'in neglected to post the obligatory report. I caught Smallville and missed the debate. As you can see, despite my utter weariness, I still have my priorities in the right order. I 'spect the verbiage that was slung 'round by the Presidential candidates in last night's televised mud-slingin' event will be much more interestin' when properly fisked. I guess all that remains is to find a proper fiskin' of such out there some place. I would ask my navel for a bit of assistance in findin' it, but said navel has effected and thoroughly sedentary pose. I 'spect it is physically incapable of be of any help of any kind in such endeavor. End of late report.

Oh, the silence is eerie

OK, ain't like I been waitin' 'round here checkin' up all the much, what with a lot of 'portant things 'circlin' 'round me in real life, but it 'pears ain't no one got nuthin' to say. Guess they are all too busy listenin' to all the rhetoric floatin' 'round. Ya really jes' cannot shake it. As we continue to move closer and closer to this election, people seem to be growin' closer and closer to swappin' blows or havin' a blood vessels inside their head explode from all the pent up stress. I wonder . . . what 'zactly is the worse that could happen? Either way, the country is likely to survive. Our political system almost ensures such a result. Ever' four years, the gloves come out and the sides start throwin' punches, warnin' jes' how bad off we will all be if the other guy wins the office. So far, no matter who has won, the way it actually turned out was never as bad as forecast.

It really seems that on ever' level of the income ladder I have been on so far in my life, I have always found some way to get by. When I have found myself responsible for others, I have found a way to make sure they always got what they needed. One facet of life worthy of havin' is the ability to survive. I have found I do pretty well in that department. One other facet of life worthy of havin' is happiness. I ain't done so well with findin' much of that, so far. There's time, I tell myself. O' course, I see more sand on the bottom part of the hourglass than is left in the top. Tick-tock-tick-tock. Who actually is in the White House never really affects either of these facets in my life.

My navel had intended to introduce a belly dancer durin' this part of the show, but due to an unknown problem or some sort or 'nother, the guest was unable to appear. End of report.

I am so bored with the rhetoric

Seriously. I 'spose there are a bunch of undecideds who still gotta be drawn toward X'g this box or the other, but I already made up my mind. I am purty sure I announced my intentions some time back, but surely ain't none of ya'll seriously thinkin' I am leanin' the other way, are ya? What ya can be sure of is that I ain't spendin' much time listenin' to various politicos tellin' us how stupid the other guy is. I am 'spectin' Armageddon to come around much sooner than I 'spect civility to return to political discussions. Read My Lips! I ain't listenin'!

I wanna think thank all of ya'll that strolled over from Outside The Beltway to read that post of mine which James thought was worthy of pointin' out. Twenty-somethin' readers of what I myself thought was very noteworthy and, yet, not one single comment with regard to such was left behind. I can only surmise that the pure profoundness each derived from my ingenious prose overloaded their sensory relays and left them unable to physically operate the keyboard. Actually, it was my navel, the ultimate optimist, that is responsible for the previously pronounced proposition, whereas I simply prepared the proper prose. Personally, I propose it only serves to prove said post's premise. Sorry 'bout spewin' ya. End of report.

[ADDENDUM: I caught this over on DenitaTwoDragon's and the results were way too tellin' not to pass along:

You are mRNA. You're brilliant, full of important,
interesting information and you're a great
friend to the people you care about. You may
have sides to you that no one understands. But
while you understand more than most people,
you're only half-there most of the time.
Which Biological Molecule Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla]

Somewhere left or right of normal

Are you normal? Is anyone? Who decides? Why? I like bein' one of a kind. I gave up wantin' ever'one to think like I do a long time ago. I quickly found that a great too many were simply unable to keep up. I guess that makes me abnormal. Is that bad?

My navel approves the above message. End of report.

Oct. 10, 2004

Today's message seemed to simply be that no matter how far you go to escape all the current inane political messages related to this election, it seems there are some unwanted messages that you jes' cannot escape. Opus still has a lot to learn.

It was really such a Hoot, Nanny!

Well, again I am late late late with a very important report. Well, actually, I 'spose there ain't nuthin' really all that 'portant 'bout any of these inane reports, less'n you be one of the few who depend on such for a daily chuckle or somethin'.

Anyway, to get back to the 'portant business at hand, yesterday was the presentation of the charitable Womanless Weddin' play myself and twenty-plus men from our local community have been spendin' some of our free time rehearsin'. Accordin' to the remarks made by those who hung around to let us know what they thought, they loved it, many sayin' their guts were hurtin' from all the laughin' they could not hold back, and I got a lot of compliments for how well I did in my role. Regrettably, my role was one of the few parts which did not require the male actor to dress up like a woman. It seems that seein' some of the prominent citizens with their faces smeared up with makeup and their bodies shoved into some dress with some paddin' put here and there to finish the effect, along with some fancy shoes and, occasionally, a matchin' purse, and lest we forget, some colorful fancy hats atop the wigs on their heads. A great time was had by all, includin' all of us in the cast.

My time, however, was dampened jes' a bit by the migraine headache that decided to hit me as I was sittin' in the wings awaitin' my cue to come on stage. My head was poundin' by the time I dragged my props onto the stage and started my lines, but what could I do other than to do my very best to give the best performance I was capable of givin'. Accordin' to some of the gals who assisted us durin' rehearsals, my live performance was better than I had given in any of the rehearsals. Once I saw the big crowd who paid big money to see all of us make big fools of ourselves for their entertainment, my inner clown took over and allowed me to shine! I have had experience similar occurrences durin' my legal career, as well, when I have found myself similarly affected at sometime durin' a trial and was additionally able to remain fully functional, despite the pain. Accordin' to what I heard afterward, not a single patron noticed the deep furrow visible on my brow as I suppressed the pulsin' pain in my head while deliverin' my lines and movin' here and there on stage, correctly hittin' my marks. I am almos' sure I deserve an Obie Award for Best Supporting Actor or somethin', but jes' hearin' all the laughs comin' from the audience satisfies me as bein' a sufficient award. I understand the charity made a couple of thousand dollars, as well, so the whole event was a huge success.

Bein' the adulation addict* I am, migraine headache or not, there was no way I could leave the theater until the throng of patrons had fully departed. I mean, I hardly noticed the headache when someone told me how well they thought I had done. Although I had a ton of fun, I was glad to get home and shove a handful of analgesics in my mouth. I thought 'bout postin' this report a'fore I went to bed, but figured ya'll would be forgivin' once you understood the circumstances. Thankfully, with the megadosin' of analgesics, the headache subsided sufficiently for me to fall asleep without delay. Regrettably, vestiges of it remained upon my awakenin' this mornin'. I guess it is time to bust out the BC Powders.

My navel had absolutely no part in the Womanless Weddin' production and was displeased to have been left out. I was not.** End of report.

*That is another way of remindin' ya'll that I am highly appreciative of most of your comments, as well.

**I suppose you can read that a few different ways. Feel free to do so, if it serves to bring you a chuckle of some sort.

'Tain't nuthin'

Really. Can't think of a thing to say! That don't happen often to me. My navel, however, never seems to have a thing to say. End of report.

You could tell he didn't have his best stuff tonight

I wanna thank James at OTB for makin' me one of the stars on tonight's marquee. From the latest count, that mention nicely garnered me 20 visitors by latest count. Hopefully they read the blurb, liked what they saw and will come back often for more zany, unpredictable snarky inaniac stuff on a daily basis.

Jes' returned home from local county Repub Club get-together and it was a fine gatherin' of people, gladhandin' and passin' stuff around, much like groups of bloggers do all the time. The biggest push from almost all speakers was to assist our local Republican Congressional candidate in beatin' the popular Democratic incumbent. We were warned to explain to ever'one he talks a good conservative story while campaignin' but votes with the liberals the majority of time while in Congress. I liked the guy who said votin' for the Democratic Congressional candidate while votin' for Bush was like votin' against Bush. Heavy and heady stuff, politics.

I am zombied to the max from the double whammy of antihistamines I took so as to rid myself of the headache I mentioned in my previous post. Although I know that I will not be able to fall asleep, they do make me drowsy, urgin' me to go to bed and close my eyes. At least that is restful. I cannot think of a good reason why I shouldn't, therefore I shall. Navel failed to timely object, so I move we close this post. End of report.

Some things jes' have to be said and others you must jes' ignore

I wanted to link to somethin' I saw on this blog, but without permalinks, it's hard to tell ya where to find the part I wanted to reference, _{if ya know what I mean}.

Comin' back from a DP refill, I had a good line pop into my head: The only death I am concerned with is my own. I just hope it occurs at the designated time. I am postin' it here so as to affirm my copyright to use that somewhere in one of my upcomin' sequels.

Peculiar day again. They seem to be linin' up in a queue, of sorts, passin' by one at a time. I could blame it on the weather. Actually, I am quite sure 'tis the weather. What else could it be? So, is curdle a meme yet? I didn't think so.

Chloe angst: Lana is finally out of the way and her own cousin Lois showed up to capture Clark's eye. For me, this is a must-see series.

Was at Wallyworld yesterday for some essentials, and to cast my line in the midst of the cheap DVDs in hopes of snaggin' some good bargains, and there are some to be had. Ever' once in awhile I have snagged a whopper, like the Chaplin/Keaton set with four fabulous movies from the silent era. I am tellin' ya, it is grand to see the early masters of comedy. There is also a set of Chaplin shorts to be found in the mix or was, but it was one I should have jes' thrown back. I don't know diddly for fishin' ^{the analogy seemed to have a mind of its own.} So, anyway, to get back to this Wallyworld excursion - so I pushed my cart over toward the grocery dept. to get some of those $3 bags of pistachios. Those things are delicious, if ya don't already know that! Well, on the way over, I noticed these really ^cool sleep shorts in the boys' department and was lamentin' that they likely didn't have any in the men's department, which, of course, they didn't. But they did have comparably patterned sleep pants. My eye caught this pair with Woody the Woodpecker on it and I was jes' 'bout to put it in my basket when I saw a pair patterned with Tony the Tiger. I mean what kind of guy called Tiger is gonna pass upon ownin' his own pair of Tony the Tiger printed sleep pants. I am wearin' them right now. They're Grrrrrrrrrrrreat! Ya'll saw that comin' a mile away, didn't ya?

It really is the weather. I can't decide if it is gonna be hot and sticky or cool and wet. My sinuses just adore that/not! The navel refused to answer any questions on the grounds that such might incriminate it. I am not sure of the status of Constitutional Rights for navels and not eager to research the issue. However, if there was a handsome reward involved, I am quite sure I could make somethin' up that would please the masses. End of report.

P.S. ^{the question version} Does anyone really understand Monty Python? _{I didn't think so.}

Go away already!*

I jes' wanted ya'll to know that I really ain't crazy. I really have to think very long and hard to come up with all the crazy ideas, and all for a few lousy comments. I feel like a dog beggin' for a treat. My navel failed to enter into this picture. End of report.

*There really is no one doin' this sort of stuff anywhere else in the world, well 'cept for maybe in New Zealand.

They never come up purple when I . . . *

It all started here:

(unknown) (none) Oct 5 1KB

Don't ask me about the title and footnotin' fiasco. That last footnote did that train of thought in. It was not a train wreck however. It was sucked into a black hole. Today was one of those supposedly days where things got off on a bad foot and the day jes' ended up being long. I could tell ya stuff that would curdle your hair - is that what curdles? Is curdles right? How many other bloggers used the word curdle in a single blog post at least four times, ever? See another first! Fresh material. Always strivin' to be at the cuttin' edge of snarky thinkin' with regard to inane matters.

I need to go check my email. My navel can't do it.¹ End of report.

[Addendum:

Thanks for entering Yahoo! Personals' "Project: Real People 2005" search.

Although your smile caught our eye, with over 71,000 entries we were unable to
include you among this year's 60 finalists.

*I really do literally type whatever is goin' through my mind and I will now never know where that was goin'.**

¹You can buy this sort of stuff, ya know. Well, actually, I guess ya gotta wait until my book is actually published.

**It was a turnip in the picture.

***It wasn't a digital shot, though, because there was a developin' lag in there somewhere.****

****If ya like -- oh no, that one died! ^{enough with the astrerisks already!}

Ever'one can feel free to flush this one. The day jes' went by faster than I could keep up with.

A Video Daily Double:

It has not a thing to do with apathy

Hmmm, again, the report comes in late. What gives? Well, I somehow slipped on a blank page, found myself immersed in my manuscript, and spent the majority of my day dogpaddlin' though pages and pages of snappy dialogue, hopefully punnishly funny enough to push my humble tome to the top of the NYT Best Sellers list at some future point. My navel stayed out of sight and went unnoticed. I simply forgot about the need to post the report. My apologies. End of report.

I coulda been a contender . . .

in my dreams. Heck, I ain't sure I am qualified to be the guy who carries the bucket. I was jes' thinkin' however, that if I was a judge, I could rename this column the Nightly Gavel Raisin' Report™. Kinda catchy, what? I went to the State Fair of Texas today. I saw a really fat pig and a whole lot of people. Some of 'em were fat. A whole lot of 'em were fat, and a whole lot of them seemed to be makin' pigs outta themselves, what with the variety of stuff they was crammin' in their mouths. Then again, it is the State Fair -- and I 'spose if there is a time and a place to make a pig outta oneself, the State Fair is the place to do it. I also saw some really purty quilts, but that is another story, altogether.

My navel is still in a snit and said if I didn't post a joke that was the cause of it havin' received a bit of second-hand pleasure from the associated belly laugh, I was not to even mention its existence in this report. Hard to post a Nightly Navel Gazin' Report if ya ain't allowed to mention the navel, right? So I relented. The joke is in the extended entry. There are some colorful words within the body of said joke. View at your own risk. End of report.

A Tennessee Mountain Woman went to the doctor who told to go home and come back in a couple of days with a specimen. When she got home she asked her husband,

"What is a specimen?"

He replied, " Danged if I know. Go next door and ask Edith, she's a nurse."

The woman went next door, came back in about twenty minutes with her clothes all torn and with multiple cuts and bruises on her face and body.

"What in the world happened?" asked her husband.

"Danged if I know," she replied.

"I asked Edith what a specimen was and she told me to go piss in a bottle, I told her to go fart in a jug and then all hell broke loose."

The day that ended early

I dunno from whence the exhaustion came but I checked the TV listin's upon arrival home followin' the end of the workday, and seein' nuthin' of any interest, I went to bed - at 7:00 pm, without any supper. Strange that, huh? After all, are those not splendiferous conditions for a good evenin' of bloggin'? Yet, I found no interest in that. I actually did find some time to work 'pon the revisions to the manuscript, but the flaring tendinitis made that task somewhat too painful to be enjoyable.

I must have been tired, for I fell right asleep. However, I awoke at 4:30 am. I think I will jes' go back to bed. My navel could likely use a bit more sleep, I am sure. End of report.

Its too hard to think

I dunno. I am still tryin' to sort ever'thing involved in the debate out in my head. It seems to be givin' me a headache. Maybe I'll wait to see how some of my favorite polibloggers filter what was bein' said. I mean, I sometimes need the news to be run through a food processor so that is possible to have it spoon fed to myself.

Today was a long day and I am worn to a frazzle. My navel, although still seemin' to be in bad humor, does seem to be in peak form, health-wise. End of report.

It's I'm Alive!

However, my navel is very upset with all of ya'll for some reason or 'nother and is still refusin' to cooperate in the creation of these nightly productions. I know this to be true, 'cause I diligently attempted durin' the entire previous night to harvest its daily observations. Deftly, it remained under cover for the entire period. End of report.

Poe Poor Eeeeee!* or somethin' smells funny**

Strange day. I seem to have hit the Top 40 list on DayPOP some time about noon my time. Too cool, but by the time I make such discovery, I have no way of knowin' which post of mine hit the big time. If I had to guess, I would pick this one. Not 'cause it is the most newsworthy, but 'cause it is the one that deals with you know what. If'n ya don't, jes' think of the most reprehensible thing a group of large terrorists could do to one or two people that does not involve anythin' but a sharp scimitar. I actually regret that the most popular post on this blog is one where I was jes' commentin' on all the searchin' bein' done by a bunch of people to get their chance to actually personally witness the event themselves by watchin' the evidence supposedly provided by those who claimed to be responsible for the act. O' course, I have also heard often enough that life ain't fair. I been believin' that supposed little piece of wisdom to be true since I discovered that some people seemed to be born with a better future than I could 'spect to have. I mean, it ain't like I am Prince Charles or someone like that. Then ag'in, once you get used to it, life ain't all that bad and ya can be thankful ya ain't got Chuck's ears.

On the local news: the story of a life-size plastic Jesus found floatin' down the Rio Grande River at Eagle Pass. It is bein' held without bail at the city jail. A flurry of religious folks are beginnin' their pilgrimages so as to coincide with normal visitin' hours. One of the local police officers commented that God had brought it there for some reason. They plan on holdin' Jesus for a week awaitin' someone to come in and make a bona fide claim b'fore sellin' him to the highest bidder at public auction. Brings to the mind that line about God workin' in miraculous ways. Fair use required no usage of George.

Funniest thing I have seen in a long time. On Leno, ending to last night's 60 Minutes II:

If you would like a forged transcript of tonight's show, please send a counterfeit $5 bill to [address].

My navel has requested to be officially disassociated with this post for political reasons. I am a bit unsure what that means, but I have learned it absolutely does one not a single scintilla*** of good to argue with one's navel. End of report.

*alternate spellin': pot pouri.

**I'll let you decide about it, but I think it smells a bit rotten myself. I saw some evidence of a Dane**** havin' recently been in the area.

***Three years of law school and I know what the word scintilla means. It seems that my education was not wasted, after all.

****Claim your own Kudos for figgerin' out the basis for that seemin'ly inane reference.

Yes, I know it is early, but what the hey?

As was made abundantly clear yesterday, tonight's Monday Night Football game is 'tween my beloved Cowboys and those dreaded Redskins from the Nation's Capital. I 'spect that I shall be given such game my undivided 'tention for the majority of the evenin' and likely gonna be coerced to stay up a bit later than is my norm.

So, ya ask, what is my excuse for havin' thus far shared diddly-squat? Well, to tell ya the truth, I was doin' a goodly amount of correspondence which needed some of my 'tention, then I gave a bit of my 'tention to that which I had planned to do this weekend, but neglected to do. If'n ya have no idea what that might be, ya ain't been readin' closely enough. I'll give ya a hint, however, her name is Alura.

The navel is fully flabbergasted with the timin' of this report and believes it was not adequately notified of my intent to post such at this abnormally early hour. As such, it has prepared nuthin' to share with ya for this round of merriment. Don't let on 'bout how little concern ya have regardin' such lack of material, however. My navel has a severe low self-esteem problem. End of report.

Dang it, I shoulda gone to the fair

Well, alas comes the end of another Sunday, forebodin' the start of a 'nother work week. Regrettably, I accomplished nuthin' I had planned to get accomplished before the end of the weekend. I think I am turnin' into one of those guys that sit around all day Sunday in their underwear watchin' football games on TV . . . like my dad. Maybe the acorn hasn't fallen too far from the oak, after all. But then, I think some of my happiest moments were those lazy Sunday afternoons watchin' Tom Landry's Cowboys durin' another playoff season.

O' course, the State Fair is goin' on in Big D, as it does ever' year. I always loved goin' to the Fair, but, like mos' other things in life, it is also one of those activities that I do not enjoy doing unaccompanied.

My navel actually enjoys it when I sit around in my underwear. Go figger. End of report.

Is it ever too late* to make your report?

Maybe. Maybe, if you report too late, no one will be interested. O' course, who thought there would be so much interest shown in the book I discussed earlier this week. Then, again, ain't it kinda interestin' t discover there is a site that actually spiders through people's blogs jes' to see how many are mentionin' books? I wonder if it is limited to books that are listed on amazon.com.

So, what is my excuse for the lateness of this report, you wanna know. I ain't really sure I have an excuse, jes' as I don't really have any excuse as to why I didn't accomplish anythin' I had planned to do yesterday, either. I think I am gonna have to blame it all on my navel, as it demanded way too much of my attention yesterday. I seemed to have spent the better part of the day gazin' at such spot in the midst of my Buddha belly in an attempt to discover a purpose for my mundane existence. It was a good waste of my time, as I didn't arrive at an answer to my questions regardin' the purpose of my life. End of report.

*O' course, thankfully, bein' in charge of the actual publication of said report does have its perks: ya can always change** the date and time of the publication of your report.

**I did not, however, do so in this case.

Thankfully, tomorrow is another day

O' course, for the majority of my readers, those here in the US and that 13% or so visitors who are surfin' the 'net from France, tomorrow is Saturday. However, a'fore I get too far from the mention, what is this deal with the greatest amount of people searchin' my site for videos of beheadin's are findin' their way onto my site via google.fr? Could it be that the death-penalty despisin' surrender monkey Frenchies actually miss those public guillotine beheadin's?

Now that we have done our duty in makin' fun of the French, once again, we can now get back to whatever it was that was the point of my postin'. Oh, yeah -- tomorrow is Saturday. If history is any indicator, you can 'spect that there won't be much visitation to my blog tomorrow. As such, I am again gonna plan on puttin' a lot of work into completin' all the last minute revisions I am makin' to the story line of my soon, I hope, to be published best sellin' book, jes' as I did last weekend. This weekend, however, I 'spect to actually do as planned, instead of findin' somethin' to do other than what I had actually planned to do. Hmmm, come to think of it, doin' what I actually planned to do on any day would be unusual. Ain't that pretty well the same in ya'll's lives, as well? No, I was not talkin' 'bout those of you with OCD. We know ya'll don't even diverge a whit from your schedule and that such schedule was fully filled prior to your graduation from high school.

My navel admittedly understands none of this. Neither does about 90% of the people who find there way onto this blog. End of report.

Thoroughly thoughtless

End of report.

Duh!

Watchin' M*A*S*H reruns while ponderin' Ivan the Terrible

The composition of that headline was like . . . that, whatever that is. Actually, retrospectively, I can conceive of no good excuse for my poor use of such nice words. However, I am actually watchin' M*A*S*H while tryin' to get an updated FLASH player so that I could look at some page, the URL which I have already gotten, while watchin' the endin' of Law & Order. It commanded to close ever' other browser window open while it was doin' so, and yet is seems to keep hangin' up on me due to some security settin'. I am gonna jump through the hoops manually to get that allowed and restart the loadin' one more time. If it don't get it done this time, I will abort the whole idea. I could be usin' a much better computer with somethin' a bit better than a 28.8 modem. At least the episode goin' on in the background is the one where Father Mulcahey* got his captain's bars. In fact, the whole thing played in the time I took to compose this very paragraph. At least that's somethin'.

Yeah, I know, ramble on and on, refusin' to go away despite ever'one's wish that I would do so, kinda like Ivan the Terrible which is reemergin' phoenix-like so as to rain additional havoc and devastation upon the coast of the Gulf of Mexico. I guess though, about as close to a hurricane as I can get is to continually keep blowin' hot air despite the fact that the whole crowd jes' wishes I would blow off.

The navel is quite embarrassed to be associated with any of the truly inane readin' material above. However, to tell ya the truth, seriously, What's a navel to do? End of report.

[UPDATE: The download did not take again, so, as sadly as it might be to do so, in accordance to the promise I made, such is hereby aborted for the rest of this day.]

*I am not sure of the spellin' and not inclined to go the necessary effort to become so.

Endin' it all up right where it began

Ya'll reg'lar readers likely know I try to start ever'day by readin' my horrorscope. Those of ya'll that ain't regular readers, ought to start readin' more often, then you would have known, as well. Anyway, I did read the followin' horrorscope this mornin' but failed to comment upon it as I was totally without a clue as to its meanin':

Your Tuesday, September 21, 2004, Horoscope, Taurus!

Your need to get a few things accomplished in a short period of time will strain your resources. Fortunately, your imagination takes over with creative solutions. Look to impress a close companion with your improvisational skills.

King of the heap with regard to my Buddha belly was so pleased to have had a better day than yesterday, it stayed the heck out of my way, all day. If you think on that point for jes' a minute, ya might see how that could actually be possible despite the almos' physical impossibility. End of report.

Here's to a better tomorrow

Today started off really early, like 3:00 am when my stomach decided it was a bit too full of acid and was causin' me more pain than I could stand. O' course, one of the problems with the situation was that I had nothin' to assist in quellin' the problem on hand. I usually forestall any major problem of this type by consumin' an ample supply of Pepcid Complete, but, I had not refilled my supply from havin' run out on Saturday night. The action necessary to rid the stomach of that acid without some assistance by some antacid product is not all that nice to talk about nor of which to be a part, and we shall not further discuss same.

When the neighborhood store finally opened, I was able to get a roll of Rolaids, and after eatin' almost the whole roll over the next couple of hours, I was able to get out of the house. I was afraid I was not gonna be fit enough to face the public, however, so decided today was a good day to take my laptop into Fry's so as to fix a couple of problems. One problem was that I was gettin' random computer commands ever' once and awhile when my hands were jes' restin' while I was thinkin' of which word would be the best to use to communicate what I was tryin' to say. It also was not playin' any sounds, either through the speakers or through the earphone connections.

So, it only takes me somewhere near an hour to get to Fry's in Arlin'ton from where I live. By the time I got there, my stomach was hurtin' again, but I figured it was likely 'cause it was plumb empty and needed somethin' in it. I ate light: a beef burrito at Taco Bueno. I then went across the street to Walmart, a large Super Center store, to get me another couple of bottles of Pepcid Complete. Then to Fry's for a red tape nightmare before all the necessary paperwork was done so that my laptop could be shipped back to Taiwan or wherever it needs to go and was ready to come home with the one I urged them to lend me as was promised when I bought that extended warrranty package.

Thankfully, I have very little user data on that system. What was there was nothing I care about losin', as I pretty well keep the main file I am worried 'bout, that bein' the current manuscript of my book I hope to have published by this comin' Christmas, on my USB Flask Disk. I actually work on that file off of several of my computers. In fact, the only one of my computers I have never done a single modification to that file is the one I am currently typin' on. This is like the oldest computer I have. It is an ancient Pentium Toshiba Laptop. I remember when I was so impressed with the speed of a Pentium. My new laptop is a P4 and there is a notable difference in processor speed. The one in my home office is a fast Celeron, but I can sit here and watch CSI usin' this one.

My navel was very impressed with the amount of patronage ya'll showed despite his absence for almost the whole day. It was achin' to find an opportunity to post somethin' from inside of Fry's, but did not whine too much when no opportunity presented itself. End of report.

Of BBQ, friends and a bunch o' Cowboys limpin' into the doghouse

Hmmm, seems that famous blog celebrity, Birthday boy Zane, and along with his accompanyin' bodyguards, that bein' his lovin' mother and father, ended up in my driveway earlier today. I ain't too sure how long they had been standin' there. I was alerted to some somethin' or other was goin' do to the ruckus comin' from my two dog security system and went to see what was causin' all the alarm and there they were standin' right next to my car at the end of the driveway. 'Tweren't like really a surprise to see 'em, as I had known they were gonna be campin' in the area, but I figgered they would call to let me know they were in town. They admitted that they had wanted to do so, but the battery on the cell phone had died. Thankfully, Eric's phone is a Nokia like mine. I have several battery chargers around, so gifted him with one he could plug into his car's lighter socket. Then we all went and dined on BBQ. Zane really went for the fries, preferred ham over sliced brisket, and had his first experience with banana puddin'. He took to the puddin' right off. He wasn't too sure about findin' a bit of 'Nilla Wafer in the midst of his third bite but after gettin' over his surprise 'bout the different texture of such, he didn't find any problem the next time a bit of such was found. The same jes' could not be said for the actual banana. By continually pushin' the same bit outta his mouth four times in a row was enough to give me the idea he is not fond of such.

We all came back to the house, jes' as the Cowboys game was beginnin'. They were wantin' to get back to their camp, and, since I know they ain't even got a television in their house, I 'spect watchin' the Cowboys game was not high on their agenda. I did my best to make their trip back to their car as easy as possible. I distracted the security guards with dog biscuits while they cleared the security perimeter.barrier. I ain't gonna even tell ya'll 'bout the continued mess the lifelong road construction project is causin' in my daily travels. I was surprised they were even able to find their way here with the detours ya have to take to get anywhere close to my house.

So, I was all alone in my messy castle with the Cowboys game bein' played right in front of my eyes, but let me say I am usin' the word "played" very loosely. Vinnie Testaverde threw three interceptions within six passin' attempts. The play of the defense kept the Cowboys in this one and is gonna get the nod as why the Cowboys were able to pull the game out of the losin' column from the way the offense was tryin' so hard to give the game away. Over 100 yards in penalties will give Tuna a really big can of worms to open at the next meetin' he has with the players. I heard one of the broadcasters say somethin' 'bout Tuna promisin' not to take it easy on his 40-year-old quarterback. That was before the game was played.

My navel was quite pleased with the Cowboys win. It does not trouble itself all that much with when, where, who, why, and how of the game, just the final result. I also know it to be a fair-weather fan. End of report.

That strange weekend cycle strikes again

One of the strangest things about the way my life goes is that all durin' the week, when I have things to do, it seems so hard to get up and out, but when I have a weekend with nothin' of any importance planned, I awake before dawn. Thereafter, I spend the day searchin' for excitement, and oft, by 8:00 pm* find I am so worn out from my fruitless search that I literally fall asleep from exhaustion. I did so last night, sittin' right here in my chair, watchin' Horatio's Road Trip on PBS.

I blame such events on my navel. End of report.

*There was a time when I was younger, a'fore I developed the Buddha belly and lost my hair, and, when I still flagrantly indulged in the rampant imbibin' of alcoholic beverages amongst crowds of like-minded individuals that I would like jes' be beginnin' the day's entertainment at 8:00 pm.

Not much more to add

Just let me say "That's All Folks!" At least, for this day. Expect bloggin' to be slow over the weekend as I spend most of my time doin' the post-final edit on my book so that I can hopefully get it to the publisher. I am still shootin' to have it available to buy by Christmas.

The navel adds nothin' to this conversation, as it seems to be engrossed in findin' some way to cool off. End of report.

A hunka hunka burnin' neurons

I awoke this mornin' with a sinus headache. I blew my nose, which set off a nosebleed. Nuthin' a wad of toilet tissue shove up a nostril won't fix sooner or later. I took sinus tablets and the headache subsided. No, I don't still have that toilet tissue stuck up my nose. I safely disposed of that blood soaked evidence* long ago. The headache seems to be returnin'

I have actually been in contact with a couple of different professionals with regard to my book. I am gettin' so close to really bein' ready to turn over this project, but some part of me says that I need to go through it one more time. It seems that part of me is an anally retentive perfectionist. Who woulda thunk it? Actually, any of ya'll that have watched me publish, then edit, republish, edit again, republish again, edit once again, republish once again, then sit around for three days before seein' me edit one more time because I found some minor misspellin' on various posts I have posted to this blog might have already had some clue about such. It does seem, however, that such condition only applies to certain aspects of my activity. When it comes to housekeepin', the consensus is that I am about as far from an anally retentive perfectionist as a person could be.

It does make one wonder, does it not? Can a navel be anally retentive? Is this the right time? I think it is. End of report.

*It was solely evidence of a bloody nose, nothin' more.

A lot of that but very little of this

I am watchin' a local weatherman who keeps showin' some palm tree in Panama City, FL to show how hard the wind is blowin'. He actually asked the camera man to get off the previous palm upon which the camera was affixed 'cause most of its his word: "leaves" had been blown off. It seems that he and the cameraman had looked around for a more resilient palm to display for the viewers here in the Dallas-Ft. Worth Metroplex in North Texas. The newscasters are also sayin' that rooms in the area are already gettin' really scarce as the refugees find themselves travelin' further and further this way lookin' for a vacancy. I was plannin' on reurgin' any bloggers needin' a place to stay to contact me, but it appears that my cell phone has decided it is too close to the hurricane and gone somewhere else.*

I love Bill Parcells. The guy is hilarious! Reporter asked him if this week's game is "a must win game." His response is, "Yeah, it is. And so is the one the week after next, and if we win either of those, then the one the next week is one also. And if we get to week 5 and still haven't won a game, that one will be one too." O' course, until I see him servin' cones at the DQ, he ain't ever gonna be as colorful as Mark Cuban. Ya'll do know he has a blog, too, right? Whatcha lookin' for? His link is over there ---------->

It is so so humid. It's a pity, but I am hopin' the weatherman is right and once this hurricane gets on shore, it will suck a cool front through here that won't cool nuthin' down but will wipe out this humidity.

Oh, crud, Friends is on. I couldn't follow that show after they quit showin' that Janice gal that used to be involved with Chandler. I was actually thinkin' of followin' Joey, 'cause the promos were so funny. I missed the initial episode and hadn't thought anythin' 'bout it 'til I overheard someone sayin' somethin' 'bout it. I figgered I would get their review, since the topic was open and they tol' me that they showed all the good parts in the promo. I see a lot of movies that use that treatment. I almost always feel cheated. I guess I won't be watchin' Joey.

My navel is so anal! It has actually gone off somewhere to search for my cell phone. End of report.

Ya'll jes' thought I had gone off somewhere else, didn't ya?

I forgot to ask ya'll some somethin'. I seriously had a need for this information earlier today, but I developed a severe brain fart in the maritime history department. Is Vitamin C a preventative for rickets or scurvy?

Oops, still here, after all!

Still surfin' those who are hard at work puttin' up all those great recently published posts, and ran across this. I ain't been over to visit Andrea for a long while and forgot how deliciously snarky she can be.

OK, OK, I am goin' to bed after this one . . . I promise!

This is jes' way too cute.

*Naw, jes' pullin' your leg. I think I left it on my desk at the office.

If ya want it, you can get it!

I heard that line from an old song on an ad for Target today, and, for some reason, I came to the realization that such sentiment has never been truer than today. I have always been a Trekkie, though not one of those who remember ever' line of ever' episode or learned to speak Klingon, but I grew up on the writin's of Verne, Asimov, and Heinlein, and visions of a magnificent future full of all these fantastic technological items. We are gettin' pretty near the point where nearly ever'thin' I could have imagined would be 'round by the time of my death is already available and many items that I never even imagined surround me on a daily basis. Of course, there is still that thing about the flyin' cars. I had really imagined that by the time the clock rolled around to 2000, there would be at least some inroads bein' made in gettin' flyin' cars off the ground.

I really don't feel that old, but ya know, I remember when I was given my first transistor radio. It was a miraculous piece of technology. I remember when a friend of mine first introduced me to a tape recorder. I remember that my dad had a Dictaphone on his desk, but I now think that such recorded the vocal waves in grooves on a vinyl band, so my friend's small reel-to-reel machine was my introduction to magnetic tape. I actually owned and regularly used an 8-track player.

It is strange. I was thinkin' there was somethin' I wanted to share with ya'll before I close up for the night. Oh, yeah, I 'member! So, I was sayin' that I was tyin' up bandwidth with that SP2 download. Well, that fizzled. That system ain't got SP2 on it. Hopefully, Bill Gates won't pull the plugs on us folks runnin' XP without havin' successfully installed SP2 'fore I can find a good line and get the job done. Speakin' of gettin' the job done, my navel is urgin' me to head to bed, but the acid gurglin' in the big plump Buddha belly just below said navel is urgin' me to make a trip across the muddy street to my car to chomp a couple of tablets of Pepcid Complete 'fore doin' so. The second scenario seems to take slight priority over the former situation, but both seem to be on the list of things that need to be done quickly. I 'spose I might as well get started. End of report.

Sometimes ya gotta put forth a bit of effort to get ever'thin' to fall into place

Well, the trial did not go, and, despite the amount of time I spent gettin' ready for the trial, I again was paid a lot less than I likely deserved. I sometimes wonder if people out there realize there are likely a lot of lawyers out there makin' less money than a Walmart Associate, but then again, I really have no idea how much a Walmart Associate makes. I know I sure ain't makin' as much money as most people think I am makin', in accordance to all the requests I get from different places askin' for money donations.

I did spend a bit of time gettin' a bit of necessary paperwork together so I could go and talk to a couple of my clients sittin' in jail to get them ready for court on Friday. I was doin' a bit of necessary legwork so as to let ever'one know I had to be in two different towns for court on the same day. I therefore had to inform the court, the prosecutor's office, and I felt it was only fair to let my clients know why they were likely gonna be sittin' in court all mornin' Friday awaitin' my arrival without me makin' a show until sometime after lunch.

Anyway, the new template and css file are slowly startin' to come together. I will hopefully find time somewhere tomorrow to get the three different blogrolls back up, so anyone who fell down a level in the NZB Ecosystem due to my missing link to your blog, tomorrow, you will likely be able to jump right back up to Slimy Snake or Rascally Rat or whatever.

I awoke a bit early, as I knew I would so as to be in court on time this mornin'. Now I am yawnin' to such a degree I am grateful there are no flyin' bugs in the immediate area. My navel looks tired as well. I suppose it is only logical that I head for bed. The navel seconds the motion. End of report.

It's a work in progress

I was tryin' to go back to zero, but for some reason, I am havin' problems with the .css file. It might have somethin' to do with cachin' or somethin' but whatever it is will have to await reparin' 'til I see if I am goin' to be in trial startin' in the mornin'. I need to make it an early night so I can be well rested. If it works pretty good for you, but is kinda basic lookin', then it is fine for now. If it fragged like all the posts are at the top and ever'thin' else is way to the bottom, and still has all the same look as before, then ya are seein' what I am seein'.

My navel seems very comfortable at this very moment. End of report.

Does it really matter what anyone thinks?

I went to dip my quill into the creativity ink well and found such to be empty. I am puttin' the blame on my navel. I mean this is its show, so surely it is responsible for providin' the material, right? End of report.

Ya jes' never can tell 'bout these sort of things

I jes' ain't up to it, right now. I know it ain't like me to not have somethin' to say, but my eyes are heavy and I hear my bed beckonin'. I feel the natural urge to slide my weary self 'neath the sheet - singularity intended. I personally only lie 'neath one and lie atop t'other. I ain't sure who coined the euphemism "'neath the sheets" but technically, I don't 'member ever bein' in a bed where I was 'neath more than one sheet. Wow, that's much more than I thought I had in me. Ya'll sure are a lucky bunch, sometimes. I think that is a good thing. Don't you?

The navel wanted no part of this. End of report.

'Twere a long day today!

Well, seems like today was never gonna come to an end. It ain't that it was less than enjoyable, or, at least, not all of it was absolutely painful, so-to-speak. I guess, first of all, a'fore I get too far into this melee of verbiage, I need to get to somethin' I done plumb have let go for far too long. Ya'll likely 'member me discussin' how I was startin' a trial this past Tuesday mornin', 'cause I 'member writin' somethin' 'bout it. I also recall that I never let on 'bout my client changin' his mind about tryin' the case when he looked at the people from whom his jury would be chosen. As is oft the case, it was a group of older citizens, the kind that seem to believe in law and order. O' course, I think he might have made a wise choice, as well, although there was some clue from the Victim Impact Statement that the chief witness could have been easily shown to be less than credible, the panel was a frightenin' sight.

So today, I learn that I have to again be ready for another trial on this comin' Monday mornin' and already know I got one on tap for the followin' Monday' mornin', as well, although, that other date might be a whole week off. Tuesday, while I was awaitin' the judge's qualification of the jury panel, my phone was literally buzzin' like crazy in my shirt pocket. Ever'one was wantin' to talk to me. Yesterday, it was much of the same as I was in court in my home burg for mos' o' the mornin' and yet, mysteriously, no one called at all yesterday afternoon, until after office hours, then I got three calls while I was tryin' to treat a massive migraine headache.

This mornin, while I was in court, I received no calls, however, and only got one while in the office this afternoon. I got a little bit of work accomplished, and was glad to have a chance to do such, finally, as I had been quite busy for a long long time. I was fairly worn out by the time office hours were windin' to a close. I was jes' 'bout ready to shut it down for the evenin' when someone walks into my office. I had a client that wanted to pay me the last little bit of money he owed on a case we had completed. I then had to run down to the local high school auditorium for play rehearsal. We are doin' some ol' timey play called "A Womanless Weddin'" that is done with men playin' all the parts. I ain't never heard of it, but seems ever'one else in the world is highly familiar with this production. I got a really cherry part, however, as I play the minister. I jes' got home. I am gonna watch a DVD I bought today at Wallyworld on my way back from court for $1.00. It is "A Farewell to Arms" with Helen Hayes and Gary Cooper. I might have been a part of my Best Picture Winner collection, 'cept it didn't win. It was nominated, so I figgered that made it worth a buck. Now I 'spect I better have a look.

My navel never even got out of bed, today, or, if it did, I never realized it. End of report.

With ever' bit of strength I have

Here I was thinkin' my life was startin' to resemble a soap opera, when the realization washes over me that it is actually a sit-com, with a poorly written script, and I have to play ever' part. You cannot believe how hard that is to do on a daily basis. Things are bound to happen. Today, somethin' did happen. There was some failure along the delivery line and today's script, as written by our highly acclaimed writin' team of me, myself, & I, and such script never made it into my hands, so . . . tonight's show might be a very poorly improvised episode.

I was watchin' History Detectives on PBS and one search involvin' Cesar Chavez when I found myself thinkin' today that someone needs to start a "Let's Stop the Bullshit" march on Washin'ton. It can't be me 'cause I can't lately seem to muster the support to keep my butt off the ground. I would be more than happy to add my thoughts to any discussion as to the definition of "bullshit."

Wow, comin' up with this wacky, funny, zany stuff is harder than I thought. My navel has been of no assistance of any kind. End of report.

'Pologies do seem to be in order

Allow me to acknowledge the comments by Tony S, a very fine fellow whom I have had the pleasure to meet in person and whom I additionally believe is only one of millions and millions of untraceable aggregator readers of this blog, an' hale mate Ozguru, who methinks makes much ado 'bout my vernacular. It really seems funny how certain posts draw comments, whereas so many much better posts seem to never get any comments. 'Course, if I could figure out jes' 'zactly how anythin' in the blogosphere worked, I might could write a paper and publish it at Into the Blogosphere. Talk 'bout a bunch of unintelligible vernacular --- well, let us jes' not go there, right now. Anyway, tracked it down on a link I found http://www.sixapart.com/pronet/ - http://www.movabletype.org/

OK, free for all. Denita mentioned some distaste with my colliquial euphenisms --- is that the right word? --- and then Ozguru shoots back at me in a comment. Is there some general feeling about such? You will not offend me if you so say.

Now where were we? Oh, that little demon, runnin' like a jackrabbit with a coyote right on his tail, and yet I snared that errant thought. I hereby display it for your further consideration: One of the tenets of my bloggin' efforts I attempt to do is to be as unique and surprisin' as possible. Since ya'll are seemin'ly so eager to offer your comments today, let me attempt to direct the topic of your opinions: Have I succeeded? Is my inanity uncomprehendible? Have I become utterly predictable?

The foregoin' discussion seems to have perked some great interest from my navel, such bein' such absolutely great navel gazin' material. I can somehow envision that any great amount of commentin' here and otherwise will greatly gladden it. I sense it really wanted me to mention such for your consideration. End of report.

Ain't it funny that way?

Ever notice how creativity comes and goes. Earlier today the neurons were firin', clickin' along and allowin' my thoughts to drift through my fingers through the keyboard to create what I exhibited here. Now I seem to be unable to think of anythin' more to say, like the creativity well jes' dried up. Denita mentioned havin' a drought of creativity of her own here lately. I wish I knew what to say to assist her in gettin' though this feelin'. My own drought will likely be short. I 'spect it is the trial that appears to be loomin' in my immediate future that is interferin' with the otherwise delirious level of creativity. If bloggin' is light until that event has reached its ultimate conclusion, feel forewarned.

As usual, nothin' seems to faze my navel. O' course, I didn't tell it what to 'spect over the next few days. It really does not enjoy bein' any part of my stomach, what with the way it will likely be tied in knots all durin' this trial. End of report.

How much crap piles up before you get a whole load?

Well, when we last spoke, I was tellin' ya'll that I was plannin' on takin' a trip down to the coast. I awoke early on Saturday mornin' and decided that if I was gonna do it, I needed to get on with it. Thankfully, there was very little packin' to be done, 'cause I have a plastic box in the trunk that contains several towels, swimmin' suits and tee-shirts. 'Cept for a cheap pair of deck shoes, which I already had upon my feet, there was actually very little else that I needed. I cashed in all my chips and came up with slightly over $200 in road trip funds. By 9:00 a.m. I was on the road. First stop, Blanco, for my, what is becomin' routine, visit with Denita, Eric and Zane.

I arrived in Blanco close to noon. I had tried to call as soon as I hit the road, but No Answer. There seems to be a long dead spot along the road, so I was unable to attempt the call again until I was fairly close, but, as always, I was welcomed. Of course, I never stay long. I could, because Zane is amazin'. His mother, father, and grandmother are workin' hard to teach him things. Just prior to his second birthday, when most children are still workin' on the concepts of shapes and colors, Zane is already showin' off his recognition of the actual letters of the alphabet. Not sayin' his ABC's, but actually choosin' the correct letter when instructed to find an "E," "J," or "Q." He, of course, tired of the game 'bout the same time as I got antsy to get back on the road. It worked out well, as, when all evacuated the house so as to wave me off, Zane was able to re-initiate his sidewalk chalk art production - the very same activity that I interrupted by pullin' into the drive.

It seems I did eat, but I am thinkin' it was some pizza I got at a gas station. I stopped often for gas and Dr. Pepper, and was quite occupied in watchin' the gas prices as I drove along. I actually made bad choices from time to time, stoppin' to fill at one town at a pump where the price was 165.9 per gallon to find it was 164.9 in the next town. Several times, however, I ran to almost empty tryin' to find a low price to instead find myself addin' $10.00 worth to my tank, somewhere between 5 to 6 gallons at 169.9 or more, while tryin' to find a cheaper price. The highest price I found was 189.9 and the cheapest was 162.9. I am proud to say that I paid less than 172.9 at every stop, save one, which was also my most minimal gas purchase at $5.00.

I did eventually arrive at Padre Island, headin' toward the National Seashore portion near Corpus Christi, bein' it was the nearest access to said Island from my place of residence. I was unfamiliar with the road south of San Antonio, so that leg of the trip, my quick car trip along the bay front drive through Corpus Christi, then onto the island. Guess what? It was a beach, it had sand, and it was about as fun a thing to do alone as I imagined it to be. I walked up and down the beach, I played in the water, I sat and stared out into the water. I got back into my car, drove into town and ate a Big Mac. I drove back to the beach, set up my camp and slept. I was sleepin' in the open and was quite shocked to have gotten soaked with a surprise rain storm durin' the wee hours of the mornin. It lasted all of 15 minutes, then it cleared off. The breeze died down, however, so afterward, it became very hot and sticky. I was unable to sleep soundly thereafter and by 7:00 am, I was ready to pack up and leave.

I did drive down 10 miles of beach eyein' the assorted people found along the beach line early on Sunday mornin', but mostly saw guys fishin', large family groups, and a solitary male here and there with an woefully unhappy countenance. Could it be that other lonely men did not find the mere positionin' of themselves on the beach to be of any assistance in riddin' their life of loneliness? Groups of cute gals were not to be seen, at least, groups of cute gals who did seemed to be unaccompanied by groups of guys.

I suspected that all this partyin' that supposedly occurred must occur on South Padre Island, so I drove 90 minutes through some of the most desolate, unpopulated area that I have ever encountered. Seriously, there was hardly anythin' but the greenery, not forests, that lined both sides of the long, straight roadway. Traffic was light. For one of the first times in my life, I found myself succumbin' to white line fever, continually havin' to slap myself, shake my head, and otherwise keep myself attentive to the road.

South Padre Island turned out to be all that I suspect it was. I can see this is the place to go if you are lookin' to party. Whereas the beach at the other end was not all that much unlike Galveston Island, with which I am highly familiar, the sand was a bit whiter in the southern section and the water more aquamarine in color. I jes' briefly went onto the beach, but was pretty well in the mood to return home. I figgered I was close enough to visit Brownsville, the southernmost part of the State of Texas, and, that by doin' so, meant I would not have to return on Hwy 77, the road that worked so hard to put me to sleep on my southbound trip, so I did drive through that little town. I was able to access Hwy 281, which is actually the road that I use to drive down to San Antonio, the very same road that goes through Blanco, the little town where Denita and family reside. On my return trip, I followed the track of US Hwy 281 from Brownsville, Texas all the way up to Hico, Texas (where I am not buyin' their claim of Billy the Kid havin' eventually settlin' in the town and dyin' there), where I have to jog off onto Texas 220 which connects with US Hwy 67 not too far from my home burg.

I did stop to visit with Denita, Zane, her brother Michael and her dad briefly on the return trip. I learned that Denita's dad has very little time to visit with his grandson Zane. I also was very eager to get home. I did not stay long. I actually arrived at my house just a minute or two before midnight. I had hoped to get this report posted before headin' for bed, but I was so worn out I passed on the opportunity as I passed the laptop sittin' on the floor as I entered my abode.

My navel was upset that it was unable to view the beach through the dark red cloth of my tee-shirt, but the area surroundin' it was too white to expose to the vivid sunshine blazonin' down and, additionally, as reflected off the water. End of report.

"So," they asked, "When is Conservative Day?"

Well, the Labor Day Weekend has begun, and it did not start as I had planned. I had intended to hit the road earlier today to make a trip down to the coast. What I really wanted to do was go to Disney World as I suspected it would be one of the few vacation resorts that would not be overly crowded over the holiday weekend, but was then reminded by a friend of mine that they might not even open the park over this weekend. Well, anyway, here I am, still at home, time is wastin' and I am goin' to bed.

The navel has neither taken a part in nor objected to any of my thoughts about what to do with the long weekend. I am gonna assume that it is willin' to go along with whatever plans I finally make. End of report.

That safe and secure feelin'

I again regret the lateness of this report, but I kinda have a good excuse. Ya'll all likely know that our incumbent President, George Dubya, was the keynote speaker at the Republican National Convention. O' course, durin' the same time period there was bein' shown live on another channel, that final pre-season Dallas Cowboy's game, so bein' the traditional member of human male that I am, I was sittin' with the remote control in my hand, jumpin' back and forth between the PBS coverage of the RNC and the channel showin' the game. Luckily, the channels were right together, accordin' to the remote control, as it skips all the unused channels as it goes up and down the dial, so there was no chance to become distracted by a flash of beauty bein' shown on one of the other channels as I was flippin' back and forth.

Well, about the time Gov. Pataki came around, for some reason, I decided to go lay in my bed to watch the rest of the show. By such time, I had 'bout given up on watchin' the game, as it was already in the fourth quarter and it was gettin' close to time for the President to make his appearance. I got myself comfortable, enjoyed the video shown jes' 'fore he walked out, then here comes Dubya. All of a sudden, I was findin' myself fallin' asleep. I initially attempted to fight it off, thinkin' how unpatriotic is would be for me to fall asleep when the our President was addressin' us all and tellin' us why we should elect him to lead us for four more years, but then I realized jes' how safe and secure I suddenly felt from listenin' to what he was sayin' and determined that it was such warm feelin' that was allowin' me to easily drift off into a sound, restful sleep. Thank ya Dubya for doin' what it takes so that all Americans can sleep soundly tonight.

The navel was rootin' for sleep, all along. It ain't that I think it is pullin' for Waffles the Clown. My take is that it has no actual interest in politics of any sort. End of report.

Off the scale, jes' the wrong way

I dunno, it may have been the bizarre day I had today. Not that it was bad, or anythin', jes' one of those days where it came to an end and you found you did not accomplish ever'thin' you thought you would. In fact, you find the only thing on the days agenda that went exactly as you expected was havin' lunch at the Lion's Club meetin'. I had expected to get all of my monthly bills made out and mailed, or, at least as many as I could afford to pay. It could also be the two episodes of Smallville I jes' watched, it bein' such a very well made dark melodrama program, it kinda dampens my otherwise dank feelin's as the day winds down. I jes' seem to have no creativity within my head at the moment, and, as I am leanin' toward makin' an early night of it, I might not have anythin' all that interestin' to share. As such, I felt it was proper to present this report at the current time. I know it ain't nuthin' of substance, but it least it is here.

The navel is agape and static at it current position right in the midst of my Buddha belly. End of report.

The inaugural* fill-in-the-blank report**

Today was ____(1)____ and I had so much ____(2)____ that I might have ____(3)____. Thankfully, ____(4)____ and ____(5)____. I barely had time to read ____(6)____ and to watch ____(7)____. One thing that really bothered me about my bloggin' efforts today was ____(8)____.

The navel was ____(9)____. End of report.

*Thank George for spell-check -- also, there is no promise of this ever bein' repeated on this blog.

**The blanks are properly numbered and awaitin' your responses.

Good days are fun,
but they always seem to end too early

I cannot really think of anythin' to add to that, right now. Played my best shot in the captionin' contest over on Who Tends the Fires, and now have nothin' left to offer but a general sense of left over giddiness.

Input from the navel is again, regrettably, lackin'. End of report.

The night the navel forgot

OK, I was busy yesterday doin' nothin' but tryin' to keep my escape artist dog, Comanche, to stay in the yard. I have no idea what has come over her lately, but it seems like every day lately, she has found some way or the other to get through the chain link fence. Lately, she has been pushin' at the bottom of the gates, so as to bend enough of the actual chain link part upward to allow her to squeeze through. I keep adding more ties, each time, thinkin' hopefully she will tire of the game or I will have tied every possible place she can find so that she cannot do such again. So, last night, she find a new place to dig a hole under the fence. Surprisin'ly, each time I found her outside the fence, I chain her up to a big oak tree at the corner of the fence, where she has about 3 foot of chain left to allow her to move around, as it took almost the whole length of chain just to go around that danged tree. Usually, she finds herself chained to that tree overnight, then the next mornin', I do my bes to repair the problem and allow her the freedom to roam the whole yard. This mornin', I did drop a large piece of concrete curbin' I found from the road work still goin' on in front of my house, but the game is wearin' thin. It is like the danged dog's life mission is to find anyway possible to escape the yard compound. Anyway, it was jes' 'bout time to post last night's report when I discovered Comanche runnin' 'round outside the fence, and it took me considerable time to coax her back into the yard and then to coax her to get close enough to that big oak tree that I could slip that choke collar back 'round her neck.

The navel make no remarks about its condition, so you are free to assume whatever you want about it for last night. End of report.

I am not up to answerin' any questions

Is that thought runnin' through so many minds out there? I again posted a quiz for your purview on this fine rainy Saturday and have not received a solitary sign that any of ya'll took time to check out the questions. I actually 'tempted to formulate the subject material on this one with somethin' nearly ever'one should be familiar: water. Come on, ya'll. It is only 10 questions.

I have spent considerable time examinin' my navel this evenin' attemptin' to discern even the most minuscule changes that might have occurred since the last highly in depth examination. I found none. End of report.

The end of a long long day

Yep, this is it, my day is gonna grind to a halt without much of anythin' at all bein' accomplished. Why? Well, days have to end. Oh, why was nothin' accomplished? Hmmm, that is a question that has plagued greater minds than mine.

My navel is pinin' for some attention, so if any of ya'll lovely females wants to send it a few kind words, I suppose it wouldn't hurt. I am afraid that if none do, my navel may be damaged beyond easy repair. I 'spect that might be a really ugly sight. End of report.

Goin' back in time

OK, I know this post was back timed so as to show it was posted at an earlier time, but, what the hey, here's the scoop. I was IM'g with George, no, not that George, the George that sends me the jokes, my former blogchild Cherry's dad, and he was askin' me why I was no longer displayin' my picture on the MSN IM'g mechanism. I checked all the options and preference settin's and didn't find nothin' that would allow me to initiate such function. I checked my version number against his and found I had an ancient version of MSN IM. Now, in ever' other situation, I seem to have gotten notices to update such programs from time to time, but had not 'member ever receivin' such with any programs on this laptop. I also have received some browser compatibility with attempts to access certain sites using MSN Explorer. I started checkin' 'round tryin' to access Windows Update, and found that I was havin' quite a bit of trouble with the link in the program listin' on start menu, but somehow easily got to it through the "help and support" links. It suggested that I download SP2, which took 5 hours on the dialup. It has now been downloaded and installed, but I still have MSN IM version 4.7? I am 'spectin' that another check at Windows Update will show that there are still a few other updates I need to download.

The navel was and is fully exposed in all of it resplendent glory although with the expansion of my Buddha belly, the little cherry mole seems to have gotten trapped and is slidin' down the slope into its depths. End of report.

I'm feelin' like I'm fallin' off of my pogo stick

Up and down, up and down -- thoughts driftin' to deep dark places then briskly floatin' to places on high. The navel ain't moved an inch. End of report.

The Dark Side* rears its ugly head

I forget whether I have told ya'll they were workin' on the road in front of my house, although I am pretty sure I did so. Well anyway, they cut right through the phone line at some point today, hence, such equals a really good excuse for my havin' not posted anythin' today. O' course, there is still that other reason, bein' the general bit of apathy that seems to be goin' 'round the blogosphere,** that funny thing that seems to have dampened my spirits to the point where I am startin' to feel that continuin' my bloggin' efforts will only increase the amount of wasted efforts in my life. O' course, the decline in average daily readership on my blog is not the only factor in my decline of amorous feelin's 'bout my current life situation. It is bad enough that I remain alone, widowed, childless and have already lost both my parents, but several of my other ventures have seemed to come to a standstill here of late as well.

The navel still remains unaffected by the deluge of mundane problems that weigh so heavily upon my shoulders and amount to enough to almost break my back. It acts like the only job in which it was involved was finished years and years ago. End of report.

*

Darth Vader: If you only knew the power of the Dark Side. Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father.
Luke: He told me enough. He told me you killed him.
Darth Vader: No. I am your father.
Luke: No. That's not true. That's impossible.
Darth Vader: Search your feelings you know it to be true.
Luke: Nooooo. Nooooo.

Ain't this graph strange lookin'? Sure is a good indicator of the ups and downs of what has been happenin' 'round here, of late.

There ain't nuthin' to report

Ya thought I was joshin'? End of report.

If the beal was only the least of it

I am wonderin' what it takes to get some interactivity goin' on here. I thought I was doin' somethin' wrong but opened the floor for comments and suggestions and got nary a one. Sheesh! The lack of attention that appears to be paid to this blog is shown by there not bein' a single thing said about there not bein' a Nightly Navel Gazin' Report™ for last evenin'. I jes' didn't feel up to givin' one. Ya know how I feel? Kinda like this:

I suppose if ya look closely into the situation, navels don't really figure into this picture. End of report.

So what the flyin' fish does it mean, anyway?

Well, this day begun with this message:

Your Friday, August 20, 2004 Horoscope, Taurus!

You will get locked in the middle of some passionate drama today, perhaps blocking your ability to think clearly about consequences. Focus on how a person normally in your position would handle the challenges.

So, here I was a tad bit weary after a really bad night, had arisen jes' a bit late and faced a muddy pair of boots I was gonna have to put on my feet so as to get to court this mornin'. I just brazened across, and then worked in a large puddle, in the school parkin' lot where I have been forced to park, with a stick and a couple of yards of grass, to scrap as much of that mud off my boots as possible, before enterin' my car to drive the two or three blocks to the courthouse. I was timely enough. I had mud on my pants however, and still some mud on my boots.

Court went well, and I used my lunch hour to exchange a defective product at Wally World in our neighborin' town and dined on some sumptuous salad and a couple of pizza slices at CiCi's with my friend Matt. I returned to court awaitin' my turn to tell the judge stuff about why we should or should not keep an ol' case on the docket. I actually had one that had made the dismissal docket which was settled, but there was still some discussion goin' on in an attempt to get the paperwork in a form agreeable to all parties. I got it retained and the afternoon swept by. It was Friday, and I left an hour early. I came home hopin' the street had dried enough so that I could park in my own drive, but no such luck. 'Cause I had not wanted to carry the 20lb. dog food across that mud last night, I had to jes' throw my dogs a pitiful handful of some cat food that was given to me by someone as I left this mornin' on my mad dash to be at court on time. I was now gonna have to get some kibble across the muddy street in some manner on my return home.

I eyed the scene and saw that I could actually walk on a walk at the school for a 100 yards north to the street, use that intact asphalt street to traverse across to the other side, then walk back down 100 yards lots on that side to my house. Along with the 20 lb. bag of dog chow, I needed to transport my cup of Dr. Pepper, a video, my camera, and a box of dog biscuits . Thankfully, the dog biscuits were still in the plastic bag from Dollar General where I purchase most of my dogs' consumables. I easily slid the video and the camera into that bag and I could easily carry that bag with the same hand in which I held my cup after I had slung the bag of kibble on my other shoulder. Still, there was that 100 yard walk. That was a lot of stuff to transport over that distance. Then I thought about that Dollar General bag. I reopened my trunk to see if I had any more of those bags scattered about in there, which was, in my mind, a good bet. I easily located two polypropylene bags from a couple of pillows I bought when I was on that trip to Florida, whenever that was. I slid these bags over my boots and pants cuffs and tied them in place with a dog leash and the cord from the flash disk I carry 'round with my book's manuscript on it. Then usin' such as galoshes, I walked right through the mud and easily made it into my drive without gettin' a bit of mud on me from my efforts. Surprisin'ly, although I felt myself sink deeply into the mud as I crossed, the mud had not stuck as badly to the polypropylene bags as had attached itself to my boots durin' last night's crossin'. I think we can safely say that my horrorscope for today was right on the spot, huh?

The navel is still givin' me the cold shoulder for havin' neglected it durin' yesterday's visit to my brother's house. I can gladly state that, despite its juvenile snit, I have covered my responsibilities to the relationship and have safely protected it from the red clay mud on ever' street crossin' and have worked hard to keep it as cool as possible in the humid environment in which it found itself durin' most of today. End of report.

My bad, but I did get a lot accomplished

I awoke yesterday morn to see a deluge fallin' from the skies, and here I have a torn up, dirt covered street right in front of my house, or, as it is and was yesterday mornin', a big slab of slick muddy reddish clay. I had nothin' pressin' on my calendar, so decided to take a trip to my ol' hometown to deal with the city there regardin' some problems in which my siblin's and myself have become embroiled relatin' to an undivided piece of land we three inherited from our father. It seems there has been a lot of dumpin' bein' done on the land and the city code enforcement officer had been notified by some of the neighbors adjoinin' the property of the problem, whereas, on the other hand, I was also communicatin' with the land acquisition officer about donatin' the ol' railroad right-o-way along the side of said property to the city for the creation of a road. I wanted to walk the 11 acres myself to see what changes had occurred since I my graduation from High School, which is prolly the last time I actually walked those mesquite forested fields. I called the land acquisition officer and asked him to meet me and the two of us walked the area. I think we were successful in solvin' some of the problem, but gettin' a tentative agreement that we would be paid some nominal amount for the railroad right-of-way which could be used to pay to have the property cleared.

I then drove around town for a couple of hours, seein' what had changed, noticin' that although a lot of Abilene looked the same, almost all of it had changed greatly in the last 30 or so years. It is not that I have not been there in 30 years, jes' that I have not really done that much lookin'. Durin' my recent trips, I usually jes' met with my family on my dad's last home place, where my brother currently resides. If we went to town, we usually all rode together and I jes' followed their lead to whatever new restaurant was drawin' in the locals. I only did so this day 'cause it was 3:00 p.m. and I had a couple of hours to kill before there was a chance that either my brother or his wife would be home from work. I actually ended up waiting until 7:00 before they arrived home, then we all went out for dinner to celebrate my brother's 45th birthday yesterday. I began my return trip after 9:00 and arrived home close to midnight. I was growin' drowsier and drowsier ever' mile, and headed straight for bed when I finally got here.

My navel chose to remain by itself and pout as I slathered my attention on my 4 year old nephew, Aaron, and my almost 2 year old niece, Mickey K. End of report.

It was that kind of a day

Very strange day today. It was my brother's birthday, but I was unable to reach him to wish him well on his special day. I was a bit busy, and was thinkin' I would have seen one more new client than the few who did come into my office today. I had someone else call 'bout a matter I routinely do, and jes' had told them to drop by whenever as I planned to be there all day. I was, but they didn't show. Right at quittin' time I got a call about another possible legal matter. The call was quite interestin' and will possibly lead to somethin'.

Strange, however, more because I have somehow reached his point in the day and have yet to eat anythin'. I have had several ounces of Dr. Pepper to provide some of my energy supply, but I have not eaten any protein. I might need to do so before I go to bed. See, I may have begun a new exercise regimen. I actually walked all the way from my office to the store to get my cup refilled at lunchtime today. I made pretty good time both ways, but it was only uphill one way, but it is a pretty steep hill. I know it is more than 1/4 mile, but not sure it is a full 1/2 mile. I also sweated a bucket. I am purty sure I ain't gonna be doin' that at lunchtime in a shirt and tie again anytime soon.

It has been cool around here of late, but for some reason it is really sticky this evenin'. [Interlude: Local news is on and Dana Vollmer, who was a member of that gold medal and record breaking 4x200 freestyle swimmin' race is from Granbury, which is one of the neighborin' towns to our li'l burg. She is only a Junior in High School and the station was interviewin' her boyfriend. His statements were what you would expect.] Anyway, so to get back with the real show here, the navel is sticky as well. Don't 'member the last time the navel lost its cool. I guess I better go see how it looks surrounded by a bunch of sudsy bubbles - by candlelight? Although this might not necessarily be the end of my day, this time around, it is -- End of report.

OK, I lied. I guess if John Kerry can lie about ever'thin' to do with his life, I can renege and do this! AlexisT gets a link. It is that good: a review of a movie that I was leanin' 'gainst seein' and surely ain't gonna do so now.

Last minute UPDATE: Don't email me. I ate. I had a nutritious Mrs. Baird's Harvest Cherry Pie, stocked full of refined sugar, carbohydrates, fat and the finest faux fruit money can buy along with two bags of Spanish peanuts to fill any protein needs I develop durin' my slumber. I will prolly eat breakfast in the morn.

It came and went and I missed the whole thing

Wow, where did yesterday go? No, I took some sinus medication yesterday mornin' to quell the swellin' in my nasal passages in hopes that the severe poundin' 'tween my eyes would subside. I went by Sonic and had a bite to eat so as to assist my stomach in its efforts to break down the medication so as to get it into my blood stream without causin' excessive distress in my gastric tract. Well, not too sure whether I didn't do it well enough, or if my choice of the the matter which joined the medication in my stomach was in error, but either way, my stomach began to cramp, my eyes began to water and blur, and my head grew light and faint. I had to leave work midmornin' in hopes I could drive the few blocks to my home. Thankfully, I made it without incident, despite the fact that the road in front of my house is torn up and they are workin' on it continuously. Despite the noise they made, I easily fell asleep once safe within my abode. I slept long and hard and missed a whole day of the 'Lympics. I also missed givin' the report on a timely basis once again.

The navel was not pleased with the crampin' that occurred beneath its restin' place, but once I had succumbed to slumber, its complaints ceased. End of report.

It jes' not that easy to 'splain, ya know?

Prologue: Talk 'bout tired as heck of some series of commercials, that one where they are questionin' these kids about how many minutes whatever, yada yada in an attempt to sell some cell phone plan is about as stupid as Mr. Bean.

My navel has shown a real concern 'bout the very low readership numbers from the last few days, and, although I have 'splained how the 'Lympics is goin' on, and how John Kerry lied 'bout his Viet Nam exploits,* and how SiteMeter seems to be on the fritz, and how busy I have been so that I ain't been able to slather the page full of the bunch of inane stuff that seems to come outta my head on occasion, it is still pressurin' me to come up with some way to get it more fans** or it is gonna jump ship and go join Zongo, who actually got more comments than I did today.*** End of report.

*Although, it does seem to me that if so many of the people around him survived, such is a pretty good sign he was nowhere near any real action anyway. If I ain't learned nuthin' from Platoon, Apocalypse Now, and Full Metal Jacket, they had some pretty nasty firefights in the jungle over there where ya usually lost most of your buddies on a regular occasion.

**I am doin' my absolute best to generate readership. How else would ya 'splain my pullin' such highly unique gags as this?

***I guess since my sayin' such also caused me to send a link his way, it also means Zongo topped me trackbacks today, as well.

It was a holiday as well, in Greece

Hmm, one of the slowest Sundays I have seen in awhile, but then again, what with the hurricane and the 'Lympics, I guess there are jes' too many things goin' on for most to give a whit about bloggin' or my blog in particular. Anyway, I ain't gonna get on a high horse and point fingers, 'cause I was not doin' much bloggin' myself. I didn't get but a slim chance to read what one or two of ya'll had to say and didn't give ya much in the way of new material to peruse. O' course, I was still of the opinion that there was plenty of stuff a scroll or two down that I 'spect from the number of comments and links and such that likely hadn't gotten all the 'tention as was deserved. I am purty proud of the words I string together for your review and it pains me when they are, to a great extent, unseen.

My navel completely shares all opinions expressed above. It had better do so, as I was only 'spressin' 'zactly what it had to say about such earlier today. End of report.

Even the SPAMMERS took it easy today

I have been here off and on throughout the day and ain't seen a bunch of ya'll comin' by for visits today despite the fact that I went out of my way to create what seems to be a pretty difficult quiz on 'Lympic trivia. Mostly, other than another very long nap this afternoon, I spent most of my day today watchin' the 'Lympics. I did flash 'cross to the Cowboys game a time or two but didn't seem to be worth watchin' if'n you were a fan of the 'Boys. It's only pre-season, so the loss ain't really anythin' to worry 'bout. I stopped worryin' 'bout pre-season games a long, long time ago . . . like back in the Landry days.

The navel is baskin' in leisure at its regular haunt in the midst of the soft black hairs at the apex of the mound I refer to as my Buddha belly. It has expressed no interest in the 'Lympics. As usual, it has remained silent. At least the report is timely, so things are lookin' up. End of report.

Whoops, I did it again...

Well, somehow I neglected to do this report last evenin' ... again. Don't ask me how it happened. I swear I was sober, and yet, I somehow awoke this mornin' layin' on my bed, fully dressed. I seem to recollect how I went in there last evenin' and laid down with a rag on my head, hopin' that a horrendous migraine headache would succumb to the attack of the major megadose of the variety of different analgesics I had swallowed. I don't seem to be nursin' any ill effects of that headache or the megadosin', so I survived ... again.

I actually 'spect that no one missed the report. I ain't yet figgered out why my readership has disappeared into some deep dark place, kinda like they were all sucked into a black hole or somethin'. Well, I do need to get to work on today's 'Lympic quiz, as promised last Saturday, but I am mindful that if I get only two quiz takers for this one, there is likely to be no further quizzes created. The creation of such takes way too much of my valuable time for me to continue such if there is so little interest in such efforts.

Anyway, the navel was oblivious to the pain that existed elsewhere within my physique. End of report.

'Twarn't a bit of neglect involved

Oh my, oh my! I 'spose I was dreadin' the comin' of Friday the 13th so badly last eve that I jes' plumb forgot to post the report. You should have 'sperienced the trepidation that overwhelmed me when I awoke this morn and my oversight was 'membered. 'Course, not much that could be done 'bout it right away, as I had to rush to get ready and get out of the house. They are redoin' our street, curbs and gutters they say, and I needed to get my car out of the drive before they cut the deep swath along the edge of the road similar to the one that has already been cut on the opposite side. I'd be a bit skeered to back over that for fear that my Lincoln would end up balanced 'pon a high point. That might be jes' too 'barrassin', doncha think?

Anyway, there was a wealth of good stuff posted yesterday, as you can observe by scrollin' down a bit further. I posted most of that while I was watchin' the Ranger/Yankees game durin' commercial breaks between scenes of CSI and ER. Speakin' of ER, seems I saw the preview of a soon to be released movie, The Forgotten, in which Anthony Edwards plays a minor role. Now, while George Clooney seemed to do alright with leavin' his successful role on the show, I jes' don't see Anthony Edwards havin' the same sort of success. Do you?

My navel was most uninvolved with anythin' I did last eve, even the oversight involved with the major delay in postin' this report. End of report.

There is a peckin' order

I sometimes get emailed by various people attemptin' to get information with regard to some of the bloggers goin' 'bout here and there and what they're fixin' to do. Some people are under the insane understandin' that I am a mind reader and can tell ya what other bloggers are thinkin'. I ain't too sure where they ever got that idea, though, 'cause I often find myself totally incapable of readin' between the lines. Readin' minds is several steps above that level, me thinks.

Speakin' of email, got somethin' from my friend, Dead Head Red, who found the tombstone generator to be more fun than he could pass upon. I have published his creation in the extended entry. Be nice and say Hi to him. We all know the world could use another blogger or two.

Leno mentioned The Drudge Report on The Tonight Show. He also said that the original Olympics was borin' 'cause Hercules won ever'thin'.

I might need to be havin' a talk with my Buddha belly soon about doin' somethin' to get itself into better shape. I noticed it seemed to have swelled to an previously unknown point that I almost looked like I was pregnant or somethin'. My navel barely appears as a minor dip in a giant pot belly, if that is my navel, and not a mirage. The expanse is enormous, a ghastly sight from where I sit. End of report.

It went that-a-way, I think

Yeah, it was a bit of a bizarre day, as I had to make a trip into the next town over to take care of just one case. Of course, such usually takes almost all afternoon. It would have taken me all afternoon but for the fact that it was an appointed case involvin' a client to whom I was appointed to represent back in February, but whom I had never met due to his havin' bonded out of jail before I had an opportunity to make a visit to the jail. Of course, as is usual, he did not contact me and as he had not been yet indicted, there being some substances that were in a stacked-up line of other such things in the testin' lab. His case was finally ready to be brought before the court to hear his plea to the charges. As is the normal procedure in our area, about a week ago, I got the docket list in the mail, and as usual, I went through the list lookin' for my name, and, viola, there is was next to his name. I put the date on my calendar and showed up to due my duty, whatever it might turn out to be. However, this guy had hired another attorney after bondin' out of jail, which actually happens quite often, but generally, I will get a call from their office to let me know so I won't waste my time comin' to court to assist such person. It didn't happen this time, and, of course, I had already spent a half-an-hour on the drive over, another hour gettin' the story straight about whether I was handlin' the case or not, and then, with the drive home comin' up, by the time I was to get back, it would be late enough to call it a day, anyway, because I had nothin' else really important on my schedule. I decided to catch the early matinee showin' of Collateral. It warn't any blockbuster, but the story was pretty good, the acting was pretty good, and it was not as predictable as I suspected even though I had heard so much about it already. I don't 'spect it to win any awards, but then, again, it ought to make enough money to reward all those responsible for its creation.

Navel says "Hi!" but seems to be involved in a bit of a celebration concernin' the Texas Rangers' win over the evil New York Yankees, although I don't know how anyone could call sittin' in front of the TV watchin' reruns of M*A*S*H while I am busy typin' this post a celebration, but then we are talkin' 'bout navels, right? I still ain't given up my hopes that I will teach it to blog on its own at some point in the future. End of report.

Makin' someping outta nuthin'?

I jes' noticed that this blog ain't received a single ping in the month of August. OK, so, I am gonna gather an assumption from that fact - - - - - OK, let's assume that fact goes to prove my previously announced theory that the blogosphere is not celebratin' Navel Gazin' Month in August this year, well - - - - - accordin' to the powers that be™, such assumption jes' makes an ass out of u 'n me. Do whut? Not enough pazazz!? I thought it was snazzier than jes' sayin', you know?

Yeah, I meant it exactly like I wrote it. Don't ask me why? I already tol' ya I got someping on my mind. Zongo owes me a ping won't know I'm here. John must be mad at me. My navel must be watchin' the final episode of For Love or Money on the bedroom TV while I'm sittin' in the livin'room busily switchin' 'tween CSI: Miami and Monday Night Football Hall of Fame Game. If'n any o' ya'll buys that bit of dribble, I got some beachfront property in West Texas for sale. End of report.

The little I did

Strange but what I ended up sleepin' so much of this weekend away. I ain't sure if'n it was due to the heat, my utter boredom with spendin' so much time with myself, or just that general feelin' I always have this time of the year as I seem to spend such a goodly amount of my time thinkin' of my dearly departed. Sometimes, however, it is hard not to find this heat unbearable!

My navel is pristine in the soft light emanatin' from the glowin' plasma screen of my laptop computer which is sittin' just as its name implies. End of report.

It's way way too late, it seems, but better late than never?

Denita, Eric, Zane, and Zane's very angelic grandmother did drop by on the way home with the pup they hope will become Zane's best friend durin' his childhood. We all had a very pleasant lunch, the quick tour of my messy house and messy office, as well as a few of the historic sites around the courthouse square, but, regrettably, they were all a bit weary from their long excursion for me to give them a tour of the local wildlife park. I was thrilled that they got a chance to familiarize themselves with the area in which I live.

It is strange when plans you have had for a couple of days change at the last minute. I had suggested that I wanted to take them to the wildlife park when we met shortly on Thursday as they were on their way up to the Dallas area and I had been plannin' for our meetin' on their return trip since then. I was slightly disappointed that they aborted the tour and I lost my opportunity to show off all my knowledge about the animals and such, but I also understand that life on the road requires you to change your plans on a very spontaneous basis quite often, especially when you are on your way home and really ready to be there.

Later, in the evenin' after I discovered there was very little else I was all that interested in doin', I went into my much cooler bedroom to read a Dean Koontz book I have been havin' a real hard gettin' into for some reason, and, as usual, I fell fast asleep. I failed to awake at any later point and slept straight through the night. I was unconscious at the time I should have given the navel report. My neglectin' it was not purposeful, ya see. The navel, however, was oblivious to all that occurred and, therefore, was not involved in any decision makin'. End of report.

Is August gonna be Navel Gazin' Month again, this year?

I was jes' thinkin' this evenin' that I started these Nightly Navel Gazin' Reports™ last April August **DOH!!!!** after I read on some blog that August was the officially designated Navel Gazin' Month and, with some notable exceptions, I have done a pretty nice job of publishin' the report nightly for almost a complete year. As well as I can tell, this was the first actual report I did.

I think back over that period at how many evenin's I sat and sat jes' tryin' to come up with somethin' amusin' to put into the nightly report. Strangely enough, somethin' always came to mind. I look back over some of the reports, and the inanity that has crossed these electronic pages whether under this name or the previous title remains stoically within the archives and the snarky wit still sizzles.

The actual navel itself has changed very little in the year that has passed. I was hopeful it would be sittin' amid some tight abs by this date, but am pleased to find the Buddha belly has not expanded to a great extent. End of report.

{ADDENDUM: I forgot to mention that I had a semi-surprise visit from Denita, Eric, Zane and Denita's mom who are headin' from their home near San Antonio up to the DFW area to visit the Du Toits and then drop by the home of the other member of the Who Tends the Fires bloggin' group, Iron Bear, to pick up an puppy to assist Zane in havin' a fun childhood. They promised to drop by for an extended visit day after tomorrow.}

Applause is welcomed, or so I've been told

Hmmmm, what kind of a day was it today? Oh, ya mean other than hotter than Hell™ . . . well, let's see. I sold the rights to someone to make a photocopy of my manuscript. It seems that one of my friends wanted very badly to be the absolute first buyer of the book, which is technically true, as my two prior sales were of a much earlier version of the final manuscript. Got a bit of work done today despite spendin' the greater part of the day in court dealin' with one our two monthly district court dockets here at my hometown.

What else is new? Let's see, what should we talk 'bout, Green Hornet or diapers? What? You would reject Bruce Lee for a discussion on large white soft cloths? OK, so, here is the deal with diapers. First of all, I thought this was a really funny post. Secondly, I actually have a diaper across my lap. Seriously! I long ago found that cloth diapers make really good reusable towels for all kinds of uses around the home. I have the one across my lap so that my sweaty legs don't come into contact with the bottom of the laptop, the heat from which is the cause of my leg sweat. It is one I have also used to wipe my mouth. You can actually use cloth diapers for anythin' ya might use a paper towel for, and thankfully, are easily washable, as mothers in my mother's generation knew.

OK, I heard the guy in the back say he was gonna be steamed if I didn't blurb on the Green Hornet. Funny thing 'bout the Green Hornet, he was lower tech than Batman and yet was able to get the job done without the campy special effects, ala said named successor. Ya remember the TV version of Batman, right, with Burt Ward and Adam West? Biff! ^Whap! Pow! I got a lot of the Green Hornet episodes on tape, black and white stuff, that were taped off of WGN at some previous time that I purchased at my only previous appearance at a Star Trek convention. I also got a copy of The Fantastic Four, the movie made by Roger Corman that was never officially released. I think there is an updated, via CG, version comin' out next summer. Ye-haw! They have now done The Punisher twice, and yet there has not been a movie based upon The Green Hornet. If one opens soon, I 'spect to see my name in the credits somewhere.

I dropped by the store a bit earlier to refill my DP cup and got me a Big Grab bag of Lays Potato Chips® with the intention to only eat one. I couldn't though, 'cause my will power was jes' too poor to resist. I mean, no matter how hard I tried, I found that I could not jes' eat one.* Ya gotta be pretty old and likely from Texas to 'member when that was the most obnoxious commercial on TV.

The navel was lost in the shuffle, and I ended up pluckin' the Joker from the deck instead. Wow, does that ever relate back to the foregoin'? End of report.

[It has been awhile since I did this, but trackin' back to the Traffic Jam, ya'll.]

*or it could have been I could not eat jes' one.

Egads! Why now?

For some reason, I was thinkin' of Glenn Reynolds. I don't 'member the last time I gave Glenn a thought. Strange how I lost all concern 'bout this or that of any concern to most bloggers, like why doesn't Glenn link me, or why is no one readin' all the fine whatever I am pourin' from my brain on a multitudinous* basis, or why is no one commentin' or linkin' to my superior messagin' like they used to do. Ya see, I know all of ya'll are way too busy to visit me on a regular basis, 'cause I am in the same shape. Jes' too much to do all the time and it is hard to find time to devote to citizen publishin'** hobby. So why was I thinkin' 'bout Glenn? I was remindin' myself that while Glenn Reynolds is not the ruler of the world, Zongo might actually be.

It seems they are droppin' like flies 'round here: High School football players passin' out from heat exhaustion or dyin' from heat stroke. Maybe it ought to be a requirement that summertime High School football practices be done after midnight, or at least, when it is dark. The Cowboys are doin' their pre-season practices in cool California. Hmmmm?

OLD: Mr. Wendy's, unofficial spokesman -- gag is OLD! Can it!
NEW: Mr. Box changes to natural cut fries -- slams France! Kudos

make it meme, or not

*I was surprised that made it through the spell-checker.

**More on the concept.

Reserved for further consideration

Hey, ya jes' cannot birth a snappy title on each and ever' occasion, right? So, what's the word where you are? Here the conversations have again returned to the oppressive heat we all suffer through ever' August. How hot was it today? Oh, 'bout $20 worth of electricity to operate the needed air conditionin' equipment on a non-stop basis from dusk 'til dawn. Gas is high, electricity is high, income is not exceedin' necessary expenditures in any significant amount. I go to bed without my supper more often than I would like. Oh well -- as they say.

Currently watchin' the sports guy givin' the report on the Cowboys' trainin' camp, and let me remind you that I forecasted last year that the Cowboys make it all the way to the NFC Playoff game this year. I am so ready for football. The local High School opened their practice for the comin' season sometime durin' these past few days, and, around here they make a really big deal about it, actually beginnin' the 1st practice at the strick of midnight on the first day such is allowed. As far as I know, all players reported on time and none have initiated contract renegotiations - yet.

My navel is askin' me why I felt compelled to post all the proceedin'. My sole response: why not? End of report.

All natural, with no added flavors or colorin'

Yep, that's right! When it comes to me, ya purty well get what ya see. I don't try to hide or disguise who I am. I kinda like the person I am, so am eager to show him off. I guess, however, that to some, that likely makes me a bore. Wah! Seriously! I am one of those people who likes to be liked by ever'one. Regrettably, I seem to have accumulated an enemy or two, and may a smatterin' of people who hold me in low opinion. Despite all, though, I have two dogs that love me no matter what . . . and they love me more if I happen to have a treat in my hand. I have met a few women who feigned love whenever I happened to be holdin' some delectable little treat in my hand. I decided that the love for pretty trinkets scenario was not my cup of tea. Pretty trinkets seem to require a goodly sum of moolah. I find that acquisition of a goodly sum of moolah without resortin' to illegal activity is not effortless whereas whatever was offered in exchange for the trinket's ownership usually so proved to be -- effortless, that is. Then I decided that the rules to the whole boy meets girl game are so screwed up, I jes' lost interest. I didn't lose interest in meetin' a girl, mind you, I jes' lost interest in playin' the necessary games to accomplish that feat. Catch-22. At least, I know why I am lonely. I also know that it does very little good to whine about it. So, I guess I won't -- any longer -- today, at least.

Oh, by the way, did any of ya'll notice that Chris Muir, artist for the popular Internet comic, Day by Day, came by and dropped a comment on this post. I adore his comic strip and admire his efforts in doin' so. Those of ya'll that have been keepin' up with this blog and the Alien Attitudes book project likely know that such resulted from my own failed efforts at an Internet comic strip of the same name. I know what sort of efforts it takes to publish a new strip on a daily basis. It appears that I have Denita to either thank or blame for such. I suppose thanks are in order, as she is blameless as a general rule.

My navel is mostly concerned with the book. It does not understand why I have not sat here with the laptop computer open just below its seat in the middle of my plumb Buddha belly. It deals with drastic changes quite badly. I suspect it will be needin' therapy when it reaches maturity. Does anyone know at what age navels reach maturity? Maybe they never quite mature. Hmmmm. Somethin' to think 'bout. End of report.

The mind is willing but the fingers are uncooperative*

As if! OK, I admit that it has been years and years and years since I read Asimov's fine epic, I, Robot,** and yet, for some reason, I still am of the opinion that the movie did not follow the book all that well. But then again, the book was written how many years ago? Technology has advanced a bit since then, so I suppose even a futuristic Sci-Fi story likely needed to be updated a bit, huh? As for the movie, I give it three paws out of four. It was watchable, somewhat enjoyable, but not as great as expected. Will Smith did a fair actin' job as did up and comin' actress, Bridget Moynahan. The biggest star in this movie, however, was likely all the work done on the computers by unknown people as most of the movie was action-packed CG situations as hundreds of robots rampaged all over the place. Of course, from where I stood, I think Spoons was bitten by that same spider that turned Peter Parker into a reluctant super-hero. Lazy Saturday is comin' to an end.

My navel is fine, and, just so's ya know, was doin' pretty well over the last four nights as well, so despite the lack of reports, take it for granted, there was really nothin' all that excitin' goin' on to report upon, anyway. End of report.

*A smatterin' of Kudos® to anyone who can tell me why I entitled this post as such. I suppose anythin' you can think of qualifies ya to compete for the top prize as I don't have a clue as to why I did it, but believe I might be able to recognize the right reason if I see it.

**I actually preferred the Foundation Trilogy.

Lack of appreciation is reachin' Dangerfield levels

I was sitting here and I caught a strong whiff of an odor -- kinda like what a decayin' dead mouse under the stove or the moldy stagnant water sittin' in a sink full of dirty dishes after a week smells like -- you know what I mean - stank and nauseatin'. I checked all around where I was sittin' as well as I could given the little bit of light available as an instantaneous light bulb incident coincided with the initiation of my search efforts. No sign of dead animal or putrid food was located in the immediate area. Such necessarily leaves the conclusion that the smell had to be comin' from me. That I might be in some way decayin' or decomposin' was a most depressin' thought indeed. I did try to move on to lighter thoughts.

However, I am also highly mindful that it ain't the only time that dyin' has come to mind, here, of late. The linked post acknowledges only one of several anniversaries associated with the death of someone close to me. It is almost uncanny that my late wife, my mother, and then my dad, all died in the summer months. All three of those mentioned have been on my mind a lot lately and my deep inner mood has been dark and despairin'.

It is partly 'cause of my mood that I have been recompense in my bloggin' duties, however, 'cause I had to also focus a lot of my attention on gettin' that final rewritin'/editing of the book completed so to get me through some of the particularly rough spots. Of course, the book is finished, as I previously stated, but the road ahead still has a few potholes.

Currently, Alien Attitudes-Alura Allen: Alien at Large* is in the hands of three review readers, each of whom has been involved in this project for a considerable length of time and all of whom has heaped rave reviews upon my literary efforts. Yee ha! 'Cept that those same three people regularly read this blog. I already know that they really enjoy my writin' efforts.

I am developin' this concern that the dead statistics involved with this blog also forecast the public reception I can expect to get from from the publication of my novel. I can fervently describe my book as a 60,000+ word tale about a group of unique and lovable characters all caught up in a fast movin' series of adventures involving a clever and talented young lady tryin' to find herself under highly unusual circumstances.** Look out Harry Potter!

The book, of course, is filled with the same sort of descriptive prose and witty repartee that I use in all of my blog posts - blog posts that many, it appears, feel are unworthy of readin', or, if worthy of readin', are unworthy of comment or mention. I had always maintained some belief that my unique and, hopefully, humorous way of phrasin' stuff out-shined the inane and insane topics upon which I chose to comment. I surmise that I may have developed a severe case o' the I must be the only one who thinks I am funny 'cause no one's laughin' syndrome. Desperately, I am seeking a remedy. A lot of anything [applause?laughter?rotten fruit?***]**** would be nice. Pre-orders on the book [by Christmas?] are welcomed, and encouraged. roguegenius[at]hotmail[dot]com subject line=Alat1

My navel seems to still be dealin' with the nausea matter discussed above and is not currently available for comment. End of report.

*I have neither found nor selected a publisher. If you have any ideas that might assist me, please feel free to pass them along.

**And not a single footnote in the entire novel. For some of you, that reason alone, might be worth the price of the book.

***Please do not throw dead animals at the entertainers.

****Odd that neither love? nor money? was listed, huh?

Puttin' the lid back on the can

Well, the supposed final edit and rewrite is completed and two of the intrepid souls who voluntarily put their psyche into my hands by reading this particular piece of fiction have the complete book, and the third has half of it. I am quite eager to send it off to the publisher. I have consulted the project with my navel and it has agreed to contribute its college fund toward the endeavor. Great praise indeed. End of report.

What's teal and pink and never comes to visit?

Just in case you were unaware of the fact, Susie is much prettier than I am, and is way too busy doin' stuff like hatin' Bill Gates to visit me on a regular basis any longer. My navel cried when it discovered that fact. End of report.

I'm very late & sorry you had to wait

I was so utterly exhausted last that I utterly strode into my abode, went straight to bed and straight to sleep. I did awake at some point about 3:00 a.m., stared over at the clock, thought to myself. "Naw!" and went back to sleep. I am hopeful that my lack of a timely navel report was not the cause of any severe mental distress on anyone's part. My navel was most congenial in not voicing any complaints about my decision to call it a night at 6:00 p.m. End of report.

P.S. I was so extremely busy that I did not have a chance to put forth a bit of effort toward completing my novel.

Is this all there is to see?

Yes, for the time being, but start saving up all your dimes and nickels everyone, because you will be wanting to buy* a copy of my book really soon, it seems. My navel is simply ecstatic about the project prospect. End of report.

*As it stands right now, you will need approximately 200 dimes and 100 nickels to purchase a first edition copy in hard cover.**

**A steal at twice the price.

Please read the following line

My passion for completin' the final editing and rewritin' of the Alura book is still goin' on. My passion currently seems to be goin' so strongly, that I jes' realized my whole daily intake for today, other than several ounces of fountain Dr. Pepper, is a small sack of pistachios. I can't ever seem to find a large sack. My arm is really hurtin'.

Navel is bein' no bother and I am doin' my best to not be a bother to my navel. End of report.

Priorities, priorities, get your Red Hot Priorities

Alura project is still on the front burner and goin' well. Final edit and rewrite is more than 33% complete. Tendinitis is at level orange, or is that level Bert. I still ain't sure I am up to snuff on all the snazzy bloggin' lingo. My navel has been hangin' 'round durin' my editin' efforts, behavin' itself. On the other hand, that unmentionable member of my anatomy always seems keen on makin' a nuisance of itself. Also, my butt is stuck to the seat of this chair. End of report.

Not this night, ya don't!

Alura project currently occupies front burner. I am goin' away for now and takin' my navel with me. End of report.

Turn the temperature up a few degrees, please

All right, all right, I did all that laundry that was layin' 'round. But for the few items I am currently wearin', ever' piece of washable clothin' I own, as far as I can tell, is clean. I only give the small caveat 'cause I ain't sure that I might not have someone here or there holdin' onto a few select pieces of my clothin'. This ain't my first rodeo, so to speak. The only problem with doin' seven, yes, seven, loads of laundry around this place is due to that ridiculous indoor dryer vent in my house. I know I have asked my landlord several times to just come cut a danged hole in the wall so I can vent all this hot air outside. If ya read back a bit, you will remember how I did laundry often in the winter just because I wanted that heat.

I am literally drippin' with sweat and fixin' to go jump into a cool tub of water. I am usually a hot only cycle when it comes to my bathin' choices, but a cool bath is just what I need to counter the sauna floatin' 'round inside my abode. The navel is still unaffected. Are there sweat pores in there? End of report.

It was Saturday, all day, today

Well, I accomplished very little toward either the sunshine/navel matter or getting any of that laundry done. Unless you count pilin' dirty clothes in a different place than they were previously as doin' somethin' toward gettin laundry done, I did diddly-squat toward either. However, a'fore ya think I lazed away the whole of the day, consider that I did do a lot toward completin' the Alura book project. I am pretty satisfied that all parts of the book are now fully complete. I am almost sure, however, that another reading for editing and some slight rewriting is necessary before I am ready to allow anyone else to look at it. Procurement of illustrations is not going according to plan. End of report.

The large cloud of gas

My head must have been really bloated 'cause I jes' had one heck o' a brain fart. I know I connected to the Internet to look up some information I was curious 'bout a few minutes ago. O' course, after the ordeal of actually gettin' connected to the 'net, I cannot, for the life of me, recollect what it was. I am jes' gonna blame it all on Moby Alura. Event horizon: Christmas?

Navel is beggin' to get some time in the sun. Laundry is beggin' to be done. I don't know how to describe the look on my face. Deigned displeasure? End of report.

ADDENDUM: Francis Bacon, I'm not. Kevin Bacon neither. But so what's so bad about bein' me? End of Addendum.

ADDENDUM II: Since I had no chance to give sun exposure for my navel, and that laundry seemed to still be quietly sittin' in the corner and was not likely to voice a complaint, I decided to venture to Sonic® for my first experience with their oft advertised Junior Banana Split. I figgered to at least give my palate a pleasant experience this evenin'. It was a tasty li'l tidbit, to be sure, but they do need to give you an instructional video to teach ya the correct way to pop the tops on those containers. I still ain't sure how I acoomplished the task, but I do know what I did. I am purty sure I ain't gonna repeat those movements next time I get one, 'cause, although I was finally successful in accessin' the contents, I also got a very nice splatterin' of strawberry sauce all over my beige pants. End of Addendum II.

ADDENDUM III: Please do feel free to add your comments, ya'll. ;) End of Addendum III.

Baby, Baby, Light my fire!

Wow! I might be the last to know about the rash of wildfires^[1] goin' on 'round the various parts of the continental U.S.A. It sure is hot here, but the only thin' burnin' 'round here is skin. I have a whole bottle of SPF45 in a sack somewhere among the flotsam floatin' 'round on my livin' room floor.* I bought it a couple of weekends ago with the intent of gettin' some use for it, but have continued in my hibernational leanin's or is that my addiction to air conditionin', the latter which, like most other temptations, I use only moderately.**

Ya jes' ain't got no idea about how close the only thing in this post tonight was the words Thank you. I do think, however, that th'effect of the current commercial use of that term is grossly overstated. IMHO

My navel expressed the most profound opinion this evenin' in expressin' its belief that most of the really funny stuff written on this blog is incomprehensible to most. Oh, the opinion is not profound 'cause I am almost sure that such opinion is universally shared. It is profound that my navel was finally able to express anythin'. We are talkin' navels, after all. End of report.

^[1]link was added after original publication.

*Those of you who are keepin' score are advised to take that part with a huge grain of salt.

**Experiment by readin' that aloud with a mouthful of marbles.

And now I lay me down to sleep

Strange and long day. Jes' had like several different people come in with various very strange problems, a couple who I had to send to other places to get the assistance they needed. I had a lot of paperwork that I had hoped to get done, though, that was continually pushed aside so that I could listen to these people's problems. Actually, it was not all that extraordinary of a day 'cept that jes' 'bout closin' time, I get this strange call: my sister. Normally, I would 'spect she as bein' at her home in Tullahoma, TN, but my sister,Kelly, found herself in the next town over doin' some visitin' with a good friend after goin' to visit my aunt, and discovered how close to when I am now located. I was a surprise. So I had to hang around awaitin' her arrival, then I invited her to dinner, then brought her over here and gave her some stuff. It was good to catch up with her and her family. She finally brought some of the pictures she scanned from the family album and a couple of duplicates of some pictures she had come across of my mom, my dad, and us kids when we was little. Less than a month it seems until two of my three nieces turn 21. The other one will be two in October, but lives in my brother's household, as some of ya'll might know.

I've got another day of SOS tomorrow, so need to do as the title suggests. Navel is unobservable because for some reason I have pulled the laptop a bit closer to my face for some reason. Likely so that I can see the keys somewhat with the reflected light from the screen while I am sittin' here almost like what squishybear would love me to be, for whatever weird fantasy that might be goin' on in her lovely mind, in a very dark room. It is hard to believe I forgot to turn on my lava lamp, so the only other light visible is comin' from the TV sittin' on the other side of the room and the small Tesla coil in the globe several feet to my right. I suspect that the moon is either way below the horizon or we have a new moon in the sky tonight. O' course, I was pretty sure there was usually a street light shinin' on the other side of the Venetian blinds on the windows. Anyway, since I can't see the navel, I am unable to delivery any super snarky remarks about it this evenin'. End of report.

Suspicious activity can scarcely be found

Ya would think there might be a bit more interest in the trivia quizzes I have created here lately. Actually, the original Texas trivia quiz has gotten a good smatterin' of a response, but last week's quiz on Best Picture Winners musta been way too hard for my readership, 'cause none has yet to take a gander at the one I did today on ol' cartoon shows. Should someone be wonderin', the source for all those great questions come from somewhere within my memory. Thusly, it takes my addle-pate lengthy periods of time to find the pertinent data.

Help Wanted Notice: If there is anyone out there who has the proper equipment to take 15 seconds of VHS and convert it into a .mov or .mpeg format who would be willin' to transfer this footage I have of Moby Alura, I can use some assistance. Leave message to this post if you can assist.

Take that, Captain Ahab! Yah!

Hey, I am a much better sailor technologically it seems than the said Captain Ahab was above the seven seas, as it has only taken me a few days to catch Moby Alura. Now I can go on with my life, well --- kinda. I still gotta figure out a way to capture what I now have caught on 15 seconds of VHS to somethin' digital so as to be able to work on or send to others electronically. Still, the fish is in the net, and one lovely fish she be. I am tellin' ya'll, this gal was what I was seein' in my mind as I developed my Alura character. Ya might have seen her: blue eyed blond on the tic-tac commercial, the assuredness and self-confidence she was able to express in her face and physical reactions.

My navel is dry lay in the midst of a major stickiness that has enveloped almost every other part of my outer surface, that which is usually referred to as skin, for those of ya'll who are still lookin' for the link to the crib notes in reference to this blog. In case ya are startin' to get really really confused as to what is goin' on or where you are, exactly, in reference to this blog, this is the REFERENCE DESK. The navel is currently busy with another patron and will be with you momentarily. End of report.

If I was on the beach, I would be normal

Another hot day where I sat around most of the day skimpily dressed sittin' on my seat watchin' TV and tryin' to stay cool. I jes' wish the weekend was not almost over, already.

National navel condition is green. End of report.

How the day melted into midnight

It was a strange day today, as I awoke early, did little, then went back to bed and slept the day away. I suspect that I was really in need of the sleep. Now I am jes' hopeful I can sleep through the night. I ain't gonna dwell on much, and jes' let it go with that, but did think ya'll might be interested in seein' the world as it appeared to Herodotus in 850 B.C., jes' 'nother of those weird endin's on a huntin' trip through the jungle of Internet links in the deep deep regions of the Wild Woolly Web.

My navel is well rested. End of report.

The lay of things

Tonight's report was rendered redundant.

Small violin philosophizin' without a bow o' my own

If each species evolves with each generation so as to have a better chance to survive in a dog-eat-dog world, is not the biggest factor to consider in each individual member's success or failure in doing its part is how well one does in creating members of a subsequent generation? Those of us who have not yet done our part in doin' so surely feel a lot of natural pressure to continue tryin' to succeed. Jes' thought maybe all ya'll needed a reminder.

Ya can likely blame the foregoin' to my havin' watched the third segment of a wonderful Nature multi-part series: Triumph of Life. This segment, called The Eternal Arms Race, which was a simply amazin' presentation of the evolutionary process concernin' several pairs of hunter/prey species. I watched while wishin' my historical geology professor back in my college days had been able to present the evolutionary process and interaction of different species as eloquently and understandably as this program. My life could have turned out remarkably different.

How many forks and crossroads do we encounter along our life path where we are given different choices as how to proceed? Do we not always try to make the choice that will bring us the greatest individual chance of succeedin' with our dreams? What does one do when such dreams are unrealized and the forecast of any possibility of future success grows dimmer and dimmer with each passing day, bite the bullet and hit their head against the wall?

Blue funk city and my navel is still pink. End of report.

Upon which side of the River Styx did I land?

My day today started out normally enough. I arose, did whatever business was found to be necessary to be done before headin' to court. Thankfully, today was one of those two District Court dockets that are actually held in my hometown, so I did not have to drive that old utility truck to the neighborin' town. My court business quickly finished, I headed out to where my car was bein' tended to so as to make sure that the keys were not locked inside of a power dead car, and to see if it was ready to be put back into action.

I was informed that the part had been delivered right at the close of business last evenin' and they would be installin' onto my car as soon as they had completed the task at hand, installin' an alternator on the truck of another of my friends. I went back to find another of my friends so as to get someone to drive me back to the garage, as I expected my car to be ready about the time I got back. The mechanic was under the car when I returned, so I waited in the air conditioned office until the car repairs were completed.

As I returned to my office, my friend Matt called to ask if I wanted to eat lunch with him, and the timin' seemed to be perfect by that time, so I assented. Matt asked me to drop by and pick him up, and, as I had just gotten my car back after havin' not had it a few days, I agreed. We drove to the neighborin' town to the north and had lunch. When we returned to my car, I discovered that the mechanical situation had returned to square one: It would again not start, and here I was with responisbility for my guest, a dead car, and twenty miles from home. Thankfully, country folks are grand folks and I had another friend on the way to provide transportation home for my friend as my mechanic was travelin' up to see what could be done to get my car to start. Still, it was hot, and waitin' 30 or so minutes in the hot sun was not much fun.

I was directed to drive my car back to the garage so that they could determine why the same the situation had reoccurred. So, there I was, back at the garage, sittin' 'round in the heat, sweatin' profusely. Thankfully, I was able to locate a T-shirt in the trunk and changed from my business attire into somethin' a bit more suitable to handle the extreme Texas heat. While the mechanic worked to remove the starter assembly from the extremely hot engine, as he continually could be heard to remark as he worked, I worked at tryin' to remove the tent from my rear window. Such has come to be so filled with bubbles of air as to make anythin' viewed through it an unidentifiable blur. Once, the problem was discovered and I was told that a part would have to be fetched from the same neighborin' town where I had just found my self stranded, I asked to be dropped at my home. I was hot, soaked with sweat and, by this time, the whole of the business day today had been thoroughly shot, and I was so weary I was unsure whether I was still in Texas or had somehow found my way to the netherworld.

The navel was again unfazed by any of today's events and snoozed peacefully a'midst its bed of soft black, with an occasional gray interloper or two, hairs. End of report.

Still clickin' like a 'lectric chikin

I am 'spectin' that the title came from somewhere a bit outside of reality, but it popped into my head, so it was ripe for output at the perfect time . . . or maybe it is an imperfect time. I am runnin' on less than a full set of cylinders at the current moment. I guess it has a lot to do with all the stress I went through last evenin' 'bout wonderin' if I was gonna sleep through the alarm this mornin'. I fretted and fretted 'bout that, to an end that might not be understandable to many, maybe not any, for I am without a clue as to why a person should go through an occurrence such as my night last night. I did go to bed just after postin', turned on the TV and put the sleep on 90 minutes. I felt so drowsy, I was almost sure I would drop right off easily. No way. I remember seein' the clock at 1:00am and again at 3:00am. By that time, I was assured that I would either stay awake all night, or, more likely, be guaranteed to oversleep. I did neither, however, as the next time I remember seein' the clock was when I looked over when my body became alerted that the alarm was blarin' that George-awful noise at 6:30 am. I was instantly alert and ended up actually gettin' to court an hour early.

My car was supposed to be ready by the time I closed up this evenin'. Accordin' to the testin', it was the solenoid as I 'spected. Part was supposed to have been delivered by 4:00 pm and was gonna be easily installed on the car. The game plan was that my mechanic was gonna have the car ready to go, throw the keys under the mat, and lock the door. I just use the key-less entry code. However, when I went by there after work, the key-less entry trick did not work, like there is no power. I am now surely hopeful that the keys have been throw under the mat of a power dead car, because I don't have an extra key. That reality seems so far fetched, I am not gonna stress enough to stay awake for very long. In fact, I 'spect to drift into lalaland a'fore that first dozen of those fence jumpin' ewes has finished hoppin' the rails.

Ya know, on that brief hiatus, I could swear that little cherry mole has moved closer to the navel than I remember. Finally, a brief bit of belly button news. End of report.

Where'd I leave that millstone?

Well, the day I been dreadin' since sometime last Thursday or so, is comin' to an end. I needed the break, but the SOS begins again bright and early tomorrow mornin'. Of course, it may have been mentally induced, but I have not even heard either of my alarm clocks for the past few days. I am now very fearful that I will not hear them go off in the mornin'. If I would somehow end up bein' late for court, I ain't gonna tell ya'll how much trouble I would be in if that occurs.

I ain't really been up to much of any sort over these past couple of days. As yesterday, I have watched a lot of television today, however, there was no great marathon of British comedies for today. I was changin' channels here and there almost all day, 'cept for about a half hour ago when I found that the Texas Rangers' game was on. I was utterly surprised at what I found to be playin' durin' the day. I am not talkin' 'bout the soap operas and talk shows, as they seem to have not changed all that much since the last time I watched daytime TV all day. I did catch jes' a bit of a showin' of Leave it to Beaver, and was mindful that it was in reruns the first time I 'member havin' seen Jerry Mathers' smile come across our B&W TV. I have to admit I was intrigued with watchin' the daytime fare on the Spanish-speakin' networks. Game shows and divorce court seemed to be funnier in Spanish, even if I could only pick out only one or two words here and there. I am always amazed at the categories for which I seem to know the questions on Jeopardy. I answered more questions about Cleopatra than a couple of other subjects for which I had believed that I had done my homework.

I did catch a glimpse at Moby Alura this evenin' and picked up the remote control and hit play/record so as to capture her image, but somehow the equipment malfunctioned and my electronic harpoon missed its mark. Progress in other portions of the endeavor is continuin'.

The navel has returned to its previous form, and is jes' hangin' 'round, agreein' with whatever decision I make. I suppose a person could not possibly ask of anythin' more of one's belly button, huh? End of report.

Happy 4th of July

That's my story and I'm stickin' to it. Really nuthin' much of any nature occurred on today, with one major exception: My main ride is incapacitated. Somethin' electrical in the ignition system. So, until it is fixed, I am travelin' 'round in my utility truck, legal but not all that economical, comfortable or luxurious.

I had a healthy itch to go do some floatin' down the river like nearly ever'one else was doin', but knowin' how easily I get sunburned unless I slather ever' bit of my body with some SPF45 or higher sun screen. For some reason, the idea of floatin' down the river sounds so nice until I envision myself sittin' there coated with a substance that can cause me to feel so uncomfortable that I am forced to evict such visage from my thoughts.

Strangely, this may have been the first 4th of July where I did not purposely have anythin' to do with fireworks, either in settin' them off, buyin' them for someone else so as to watch them do so, or watchin' some professionally designed fireworks show, but for some reason, I was really not in the mood to leave the house much. It was odd that my car actually broke down in the parkin' lot of my friend's convenience store. My day was filled with hours of doin' laundry while watchin' a marathon of British sit-coms on one of our area PBS stations. Lastly, I began watchin' some semi-musical movie about the creation and signin' of the Declaration of Independence. Of course, this was on our local UPN station, so there were a lot of commercial breaks interspersed. Durin' one of these, I caught the introduction of the Medal of Honor winners to President Bush. I counted that as a lucky break, because the moment was so movin' on a deep emotional level.

The navel was ecstatic about not bein' slathered with lotion and likely bein' filled with either sweat or river water for several hours today. In fact, it was quite elated to find that I spent at least that much of the day layin' 'round in my skivvies on the bed durin' a lot of my marathon of TV watchin' as it is the only real cool place in the house. End of report.

[sarcasm]The big NAVEL Show[/sarcasm]

Well, with the previous ode postin' ya'll prolly know right after I hit the publish button, I was off to go see the event I was discussin'. Although it was BYOB, I only took a full cup of Dr. Pepper along. I pulled a chair outta my trunk, and those fold-up chairs are so much easier to deal with than lawn chairs. I have had a couple in my trunk ever since the price got down below $10. I sat down in my chair in a shady spot so as to be able to watch the singers on the stage. I was there 'specially to observe the Three Fools on Three Stools and Brian Burns gigs. Both performances were grrreat!* I enjoyed it but was gettin' a bit tired. I got up pretty early this mornin' so as to re-ice the drinks to keep 'em ice cold. I bagged up my chair and came home.

The music must have soothed the savage belly button, 'cause it seems that the navel is back on the job. I get some sense that one of squishybear's recent comments had somethin' to do with my navel endin' its hiatus. Too bad it did not return to work with some excitin' navel stories to tell, or some strange and interestin' malady to whine about, but jes' showed up at the door, hat in hand attitude, without any clue as to what it did while it was gone. I think I will go on to bed, although I am sure I shall sleep ear-to-pillow tryin' to catch any snatches of information goin' 'round on the grapevine. Hence, I regrettably have nothin' to report. I didn't even clip my toenails. End of report.

*Oops, let a bit of cousin Tony slip by.

Ahoy ye maties! Thar She Blows!

I caught sight of Alura on a Tic-Tac commercial yesterday. It went by pretty fast and I was not prepared for the discovery, so had not set up to catch a copy of such on VHS. I been sittin' on top of the remote all night awaitin' another chance of seein' it again. I have been unsuccessful in any sightin's today, and somehow I am sittin' here wonderin' if I am steppin' into the Captain Ahab shoes in my own personal search for Moby Alura. I am already ponderin' the meanin' of that vision appearin' just at the point when it did. Don't such things have some meanin', usually? I sure would hate to miss a blarin' clue 'cause I am blinded by my cynicism. I hope all of that sounds as fine as I am thinkin' it does right now as when I read it back sometime later.

Tomorrow is the big July 3rd Celebration where our ol' town parade is occurrin' as well as a couple or three music festivals at some of my friends' spreads. I had plans to and a couple of invitations to ride in the parade, but I decided to pass on bein' in the parade and work the watchin' crowd. I got all my free cold drinks icin' down at the office, so the hard part of my square presence has been accomplished.

Ya'll ain't sendin' in all the comments and emails my navel was hopin' for and it seems to be sulkin' a bit. I didn't want to pester it tonight. I mean, it seems ya'll really weren't clamorin' it to come back so maybe I can just make it wait until it is ready to make some concessions to get back under the spotlight. I almost clipped my toenails tonight to provide somethin' to actually report in the Nightly Toenail Clippin' Report. But then I thought better of it. I suppose I could hire George Hamilton to provide some anecdote about caviar in a super model's bellybutton. Too much money trouble involved in that operation. I'd jes' as soon clip my toenails. Faithfully submitted by your loyal servant. End of report.

The unendin' diva dilemma

Well, mostly workin' hard to find a way to work out the differences between I and the supposed star of this show, and still not havin' much luck. Communication appears to be the principal problem. Negotiations have always previously been done on a purely personal basis, but it seems that my navel and myself have lost the ability to effectively discuss matters. It might be time to hire an agent to act on my behalf in these negotiations. The only agent that has come to mind at this point is a butthole -- in the purely literal sense of that word. Again, there was no toenail clippin', so again there is no necessity of makin' a Nightly Toenail Clippin' Report. End of report.

Nightly Toenail Clippin' Report

Wow, the very first ever nightly toenail clippin' report on this blog and it is gonna be about excitin' as findin' that the navel is still holdin' out for greater consideration and is noticably absent. No toenail clippin' took place this evenin', so there is nuthin' to report. End of report.*

*What? Whinin' or whingin' 'bout there not bein' much to see here? Did ya check out those cool pics down below?

At a loss for concern

Wow, no wonder I have been feelin' like I didn't want to do much but sleep here lately. 17 straight rainy days! Navel has taken the night off.* End of report.

*Such is a nice way of sayin' it has come down with a really bad case of the blue flu, which I suspect is meanin' it is again attemptin' to get a raise. As if! I mean, heck, why do these dang stars think that the show jes' can't go on without 'em. Watch out, now, or I will rename the report: Nightly Toenail Clippin' Report.

Where did I go left?

The title has no hidden meanin'. It actually has no meanin' of any kind, as it was supposed to be Where did I leave off? but I felt like that obligated me to remember what is was we were talkin' 'bout. O' course, then there would need to be some sleuthin' into which of the previous discussions was I supposed to continue? Ya see why I felt it was best to forego gettin' into all of that?

So, here I was just 'bout to fall asleep sittin' in the chair about an hour ago. I looked over at the clock and it was 9:00 pm. I was all of a sudden thinkin' how old I must be when I wanted to go to bed at 9:00 pm ... or, I guess I could be thinkin' how young, as I am pretty sure that 9:00 pm was bed time for most of my carefree summers spent in the care of my great-grandparents. It saved on electricity, as it gets dark just about 9:00 pm, so there is no necessity of usin' 'lectric lights if ya are gettin' ready for bed before the sun fully set.

I remember those hot steamy summer nights of the mid 60's. Lightnin' bugs flashin' their secret messages across the huge expanses of grass. My navel seemed to be hardly ever covered durin' those months. Although I was much friskier durin' those years, my navel has yet to skip a beat. End of report.

I'd druther have a hot tub

If'n there was one delightful thing from which both myself and my navel both found a lot of enjoyment durin' my brief unescorted visit to one of the Texas' most romantic towns, it was those relaxin' sessions a-sittin' in that 104 degree swirlin' water. I can't afford one to affix one of those to my current location-- well, actually I possibly could, 'cept I have this thing about affixin' expensive fixtures to property shown to be in somebody else's name.*

Of course, as I have previously mentioned ... it is often like really hot and steamy here. Whereas I could possibly spend long hours in the whirlpool, I find myself spendin' endless hours sittin' in the sauna. I abhor the endless swelterin' heat. I suppose if it was doin' somethin' to assist me in reducin' the size of my Buddha belly or somethin', I might find it a bit more enjoyable, but I find it mostly assistin in cloggin' up' my pores. The navel, as usual, has no complaints about the swelterin' heat. End of report.

*which could, most possibly, be the same persons who own all the gold in California.

The utter tardiness of it all

Hmmm. Well, due the Internet fiasco spoken of earlier, you can all see that the Nightly Navel Gazin' Reports have gotten off of their normal schedulin'. It seems that the last report was posted earlier today, but was back dated to comply with is stated creation about 6:00 am on Friday mornin'. That means, however, that there was no report for Friday evenin' or Saturday evenin'. Such situation shall be rectified right now.

Friday evenin' found the conference ended and the final happy hour of the event. I bought two tickets, sipped on my two tequila sunrises while they called the names of the winners for the door prizes. I didn't win any of them. waaaah! Strangely, as I went back to get another ticket and drink, people started givin' me their complimentary drink tickets. I ended up downin' a goodly portion of tequila, enough to feel that I was hilariously funny in ever'thin' I said, and I chatted up several ladies. And talk about timin'. It seems that some sorority was checkin' in to the place for some event they had scheduled for the weekend jes' as I was gettin' back to the hotel. I had accompanied some cute young female attorney back to the hotel where were parted ways, then went to my room, then had come back out to get the fixin's to make myself a cup of Dr. Pepper. On the way back to my room, I noticed that the concierge on duty was one really cute young lady, as well, so spent some time chattin' with Amanda while eyein' the lines of sorority sisters waitin' at the counter out of the corner of my eye.

I then went out into the River Center mall where I did a bit of window shoppin', and ended up buyin' a slice of pizza. I ate it while I went back to my room. I was highly disappointed to see that Amanda had left for the day as I walked by the concierge station.

I ended up spendin' the night alone, but then that was well within the plannin' I had made for the evenin's entertainment. Fishin' is sometimes much more rewardin' an activity if you already know you really didn't want to really catch the fish. My navel was a bit miffed about my lack of effort. End of the Friday Report.

I awoke Saturday with a headache. Thankfully it was not so excruciatin' that I was unable to cope. I prepared for the day, packed up all my stuff, and checked outta the room. I took all my stuff across the street and packed my car, then walked over to Denny's and had a lot of greasy pork and eggs. I went back to my car and downed 4 extra strength name brand analgesics and then walked over to the Alamo and looked around for an hour or so. It ain't the first time I have been to the Alamo, and likely it is not gonna be the last. For some reason, maybe it bein' mostly due to the fact that I have so recently seen the movie about the event, I felt really cheated that what you actually get is only a small part of what was there on March 6, 1837. I remembered just recently that someone had suggested that I go see the site where John Wayne's movie was shot in Brackettville, so by 10:30 am, I was on my way to Brackettville.
I arrived about 2:00 pm, just timed it about right to get a chance to walk around the grounds of the Alamo set before goin' down to the western town set to see the show they were supposed to be doin' about 2:30 pm accordin' to the information I got at the gate. Thereafter I walked around the town, thoroughly checkin' it all out. It was jes' beginnin' to rain as the next showin' was gonna start at 4:30 pm. I finished up seein' ever'thin' there was to see and decided to head off. As it had been rainin' off and on all day for almost the last three days 'round San Antonio durin' my visit, I was bit afraid to take the shortest route home, as I was aware of how many low water crossin's there were along the route. Even though it was a bit out of my way to do so, I felt the safest way to get home was to back track to San Antonio and go back home the same way I came down. As such, I was able to stop by Eric and Denita's house on my way back. I was really tired by the time I got there, however, so did not stay long at all.

I got back on the road, stoppin' often to stretch my legs and such so as to make sure I stayed awake. I never felt like there was any problem, but, still, it is always a good idea to take no chances of such, right? I rolled into my drive right at the stroke of midnight. I did not even unpack the car. I jes' rolled my tired body into bed and snoozed the rest of the night away. The navel seemed elated with the days activities as well as the prompt endin' of the trip and the day. I was to pooped to post the report. I do so now. End of Saturday report.

I am invisible for the moment

It just after 6:00 am on Friday, June 25, 2004. I have been up for more than an hour, havin' awakened early today followin' havin' fallen asleep about 7:00 pm or so last evenin'. I was surprised at my utter weariness, but as I had done quite a bit of walkin' and was still under the influence of those two margaritas* I consumed with yesterday's lunch, I was just layin' there readin' a book I bought at a book signin' by another lawyer at the convention when I felt myself about to fall asleep. As I was already layin' in bed, it seemed to be no problem, so off to dreamland** I went.

Given that early to bed scenario, I found it regrettably followed by an early to rise endin'. I awoke sometime around 4:30 am, but fought the urge to arise as much as possible. I finally did arise and went to the lobby, walked all the way across and into the Rivercenter Mall connected to the hotel so as to go by another Dr. Pepper, as it seems all the soda vendin' machines in the hotel seem to be filled with Pepsi products. Thankfully the hotel concierge pointed me in the right direction night before last when I stopped to ask where the nearest place to buy a Dr. Pepper. Funny thing, however, was that I had to make two trips to get one, and ended up with two bottles of Dr. Pepper and one bottle of Diet Coke.

On my first trip, I was still a bit groggy, walked across the lobby floor barefooted and about halfway across, the bone spur on my right heel started botherin' me really bad, so I was kinda walkin' funny and hurryin' a bit to get the errand done. I watched the machine eat my dollar bill and pushed the button. I heard the bottle drop, took it out of the machine and came back to the room. I then went down to the ice machine to fill the bucket. I came back to fix my cup so as get my much needed mornin' caffeine fix. It was then, and only then, that I discovered the bottle I had carried all the way back was full of Diet Coke. I muttered under my breath about the inequities of the whole scenario as I repeated by trip to the machine, fed it another dollar and punched the other button marked to vend Dr. Pepper. I looked down into vendin' slot just as I pushed the button to see there was already a bottle of Dr. Pepper sittin' there. It was too late to stop the other sale, so I ended up comin' back with two bottles of Dr. Pepper to join that bottle of Diet Coke. I decided, on the way back, that the person who had paid for and not gotten that Diet Coke likely got a worse deal than havin' to make two trips across that large lobby floor. I also did notice that the only other room that seems to be occupied on this floor had a tray sittin' in front of the door with an empty Diet Coke can sittin' on it, so if I see the person stayin' there, I will likely make a gift of that unopened full bottle of Diet Coke to such unknown occupant.

Upon gettin' the cup filled with ice and Dr. Pepper, I took my treasure and went down one floor and climbed into the hot tub whirlpool and let the swirlin' water work all the kinks outta my muscles, then came back to my room and took a nice hot bath to wash off all the crud that might have been in the hot tub water from all the prior people who had been sittin' in that same water. I took extra special attention to make sure my navel was very clean and not filled with any crud of any kind. After all, it is still the star of this show, right? Of course, ya'll can't see it or this report currently, but as soon as I find an good Internet connection, I will do my best to assist you with gettin' your Nightly Navel Gazin' Report fix. End of report.

A whole different sort of steam

I am likely guilty of puttin' too much value onto how I spend my money. Yes, I do know this report is late, very late, but here is why: I am out of town, like I said a couple of days ago, or at least I think I said somethin' 'bout it, but given the two margaritas I had with lunch, and that I have hereby secretly pirated a computer belongin' to Motion Computin' at the Texas Bar Annual Meetin'* here in San Antonio that was sittin' here connected to the internet, I find am too woozy and pressed for time to go back and read my recent posts in any effort to find such --- jes' take my word for it. However, the actual reason the followin' report is late is 'cause I am a bit miffed to find I am spendin' huge sums of money to stay in the Mariott Rivercenter Hotel to spend another $10 a night necessary so as to connect to the internet.** As such, despite the fact that I purchased the laptop partly just so as to do so, I found that another one of my plans went haywire. I am pleased to see that my life has not drastically improved despite the fact that I drove over 3 hours from home just to be here.

OK, OK, I know what ya'll are payin' your money to see: My navel responded well to the locale change. It failed to notice that it was not at home. End of report.

*Convention might also be a good term to use for the event, ya'll

**Show of hands on how many of ya'll also think I should have stayed at a Best Western somewhere for half that price where free internet access is usually found to be readily available.

Still wrinkled despite bein' steamed for hours

Yes, it is so steamy here. The weatherman was sayin' earlier today the odds of gettin' rained on today was 100%, but I guess he was not broadcastin' from right in my backyard, 'cause it didn't rain a drop today. There is a ton of moisture in the air however. Like I said it is steamy.

I checked my face in the mirror and saw every wrinkle and line was still visible and apparent in splendid glamor. I am wonderin' jes' 'zactly what it was that made life in Texas so attractive. Are the mild winters satisfactorily sufficient in exchange for 5 months of livin' in the midst of a giant sauna ever' year? O' course, livin' at the confluence of three rivers, actually two rivers and one large creek, does have its distinct methods of coolin' off. I jes' wish I had 'membered that 'fore the hour got so late. I actually got immersed in some stuff on PBS: origins of the universe, the problems with illegal immigration on northern communities, and somethin' 'bout how Big Box stores are takin' over communities. Heavy stuff for entertainment, huh?

Have I not previously mentioned that my navel has no complaints to voice about the hot steamy weather? It responded unfavorably, however, to a vagrant bit of ice that found its way into the deep recess in the midst of my rotund tummy earlier this evenin'. End of report.

I snuck right up behind me without a sound

There really ain't not reason* or purpose** behind the lateness of this report. Don't fret though, 'cause there ain't no cause for alarm, the navel is fine. The rest of my body is a wreck, but the navel appears to be uninjured. A person can experience substantial physical trauma from repeatedly sittin' still, and yet, the navel seems to be unaffected a bit whether you are sittin' or standin' or somewhere in the midst of the two. End of report.

*other than my lack of a decent non-overused idea.

**except that I didn't want to interrupt my endless observation of the occurrences on Blind Date.

I still think I need some goats

I am tellin' ya'll, no matter how much I gripe, my dogs just won't eat enough grass to keep my yard from gettin' a foot high. Yep, it finally did get cool enough to do a bit of that primitive method of grass cuttin' and I put in a pretty good 15 minutes of it until I started wonderin' where I had put those gloves I simultaneously bought so as to assist my hands in grippin' the handle good enough durin' the hundred or so swings I made. I did cut down a lot of tall weeds, but the grass didn't seem to actually cut as much as just bend down out of the way. Still, at least I felt like I actually did try, that I might have assisted my health condition in some way, without deterioratin' it any further*, and likely did very little harm to the environment as I am pretty sure there were not even any methane emissions durin' the weed cuttin' ballet.

Even though it was just a bit before dusk, it was still pretty humid and hot outside, so I didn't want to work myself into a heat stroke. Some perspirin' ain't harmful, but sweatin' yourself to the point of dehydration ain't a smart move even when ya are young. It is even worse when you get to the age where people often think you are old enough to qualify for the senior citizen discount at fast food restaurants.

That scenario occurred yesterday when I was in the neighborin' town gettin' that meal that I consumed just prior to the shoppin' adventure. That is the third time I have found myself granted the senior citizen discount when purchasin' a meal someplace. Now, the very first time it occurred was at Furr's Cafeteria just prior to to my havin' moved from Dallas, so that makes it at least 4 years ago. I was 45. The second time was a couple of years ago, and then yesterday. I promise you that the meager amount of money you save on your meal ain't worth the trauma of realizin' that to some young person, you look aged enough to qualify for charity. O' course, as someone mentioned yesterday, I could have the body of a 20 year old, but with my head full of mostly none or white hair, includin' the close cropped beard on the bottom half -- the assumption quickly goes toward December, not May.

The navel still seems to be ignorin' all my efforts to coax it to try postin' on its own. I have inferred that it has no interest in doin' much other than hangin' out someplace with cool air blowin' 'cross it. Thanks to my efforts of this mornin', it is gonna get its wish for the first time this summer within the habitat. Until now, such moments were restricted to those brief car excursions to this locale or that. Gonna get to it! End of report.

[UPDATE: Why I decided to open and read some blogs after postin' the report is beyone me, but it took somethin' as snarky as this comment by zombyboy to drive me into postin' an update to such report.]

*I finally had someone give a name to the ailment I am sufferin' from on my right arm: tendinitis. She said it could be cured with cortisone. As far as I know, I did not greatly aggravate it swingin' that blade.

The fog that Susie left behind

Susie likely worked all day to escape the fuzziness that invaded her thinkin' process earlier today, but regrettably it found another's thought process to invade as a consolation prize. I know, however, that, as my thinkin' process is nowhere near as involved and as influential as the thoughts which come outta Susie's brain, so can't be of the opinion that the fuzziness is feelin' all that warm and fuzzy in the midst of my cobwebbed neuronic pathways.

Speakin' of fuzzy, it seems I was not keepin' as good an eye on my navel as I had thought, as there is a large, very fuzzy glob of lint inhabitin' its recesses. I am of the belief, however, that I shall be able to extract this foreign invasionary substance with my bare fingers, but should that fail, I possess a good selection of finely crafted instruments to assist me in more advanced procedures. End of report.

Papa's got a brand new box

Well, it might not be the very first blog post done on my new toy. What can I say 'bout it, 'cept it is the first time in a long time that I spent more on my latest computer than I did on my very first car, but I shelled out a bit more than 6 times the $200 that 1968 Plymouth four door Fury III cost me in 1972 for this sleek blue fast back Toshiba Satellite,* complete triplet connection capabilities, 4 USB drink holders built in, & packin' a P4 2.6 with a broadscreen viewport. This baby moves fast, although only possible connection currently is through that third world phone line.

One of the things this box purchase does is get me outta of that chair in the other room so I can actually sit in my comfortable chair with As Time Goes By playin' in the background. I jes' finished watchin' Casablanca which I got in a Humphrey Bogart movie set at Fry's at the same time as I was buyin' the blue, black, and gray flat top box of which I spoke above. I already had this one in VHS form as it is one of the Best Picture winners. I am still only 5 to 7 short of havin' them all. I was actually intendin' to get the three movie set of LOTR so as to get last night year's winner yesterday, but after checkin' it out, decided it was cheaper at Walmart, or I wasn't sure of such. Anyway, I passed on it. Casablanca, by the way, is that among that handful of movies that I feel actually deserved Best Picture honors as bein' 'mong those really great movies that have graced the silver screen. As I already possessed this movie, I wished they could have substituted another great pairin' of fantastic performances, The African Queen, with Bogey opposite Kate Hepburn. The four movies in the set are the aforementioned Casablanca, The Big Sleep, The Maltese Falcon, and Key Largo.

So, anyway, ya'll may have wondered why I decided to invest my vacation money in a new computer: is it because I needed somethin' more portable that I could transport to court, on business trips and such so as to have constant access to documents vital to my activities? [or] maybe so that I would have some way to work on my book while I awaited the court process to proceed to a point where my action was necessary, thus allowin' me to make better use of my time? [or] maybe it was so that I would have internet access at various locations such as coffee houses, book stores and various inns that I might frequent as I travel for business or pleasure? Well, surprisin'ly it is actually none of the above. Nope, my sole purpose for purchasin' this sleek laptop 'puter is so that I can begin givin' my navel bloggin' lessons. Hopefully, despite what I expect to be an very arduous effort in the future, at some point, this blog might actually publish a Nightly Navel Gazin' Report™ constructed by the concerned offendin' navel itself. However, please let me warn ya --- don't hold your breath! End of report.

*I almost failed to mention that the last time I shelled out this much money for a single computer, all I got for my money was a lousy 486 DX2 50Mz Packard Bell Multimedia system from Best Buy which was my first, last and only purchase from that retail organization. Let us only say it had somethin' to do with a place sellin' computers not keepin' a database of those customers to whom they had sold extended warranties.

Stop it right there?

Get right back in here! 'Scuse me while I have a short conversation with my consciousness. It seems the want to drift off into the state of nothin'ness and I am needin' it to stick with me for a brief few moments longer to deal with this swirlin' chaos of life. Try to say that with a mouthful of saltine crackers.* I jes' don't know where to start. I could say it was hot, but then I mentioned yesterday how that ain't even news, and I can't milk it for the whole summer, anyway. People, this is Texas -- it is hot here in the summertime.

I had been plannin' a long diatribe about how I went to visit a friend of mine who was suddenly hospitalized with severe health complications and how such reminded me of my own mortality. I wanted to search with you for where the actual point is when the mindless immortally of youth sinks to the realization and eventual embracin' of the inevitability of mortality. My consciousness continues to slink off into the shadows. I am afraid I do not possess the capabilities to expound on that subject. Neither do I have sufficient -- I am losin' this battle. My consciousness jes' ran away with the remainder of that thought and my entire body spontaneously slumped as it drifted off on a glorious cat nap.

Navel is temporarily unobservable as it is occupied with its belly dancin' lessons.** End of report.

*I have no idea why that gag popped up at that very moment. It might have a deep significant meanin' which will make itself known upon further contemplation.

**A person would have to be holdin' a hand with crossed fingers behind his back to be able to say that about my belly, ya understand. On second thought, that idea might not be so far fetched.

I went, I met some new people, and I had some fun

Well, as some of ya'll likely know, I have been workin' on the Defenders of Texas* blogroll. As ya'll might see, there are a lot of blogs already there, but I know there a lot more than need to be added, as well. In fact, I was checkin' DFW blogs to find more Texas blogs for the blogroll and saw an announcement about a get-together tonight. I didn't have any real plans for tonight, other than to post this report, so I thought, why not go and meet some bloggers, have a couple of drinks, etc. Well, I did so. The trip was about 90 miles each way, took about 90 minutes both ways, but I am pleased to say that I think it was worth the time and trouble. There were somewhere about 12 to 15 different bloggers from the Metroplex there, and from what I could see, it was pretty close to bein' half glass and half guys, although, I think there were a couple of more guys than gals. However, that is still pretty good, in my opinion. I tried to talk to ever'one, but it was pretty loud in the cantina. My hearin' is not that good, especially if there is some loud music in the background, so I missed a lot of what people had to say. I did try to make sure that ever'one was now aware of the name of my blog, and hopefully, some of them will come around and leave a comment or two so that I can locate their blogs and see what kind of fare they have to offer. I had three ounces of the same liqueur I have on my coffee table in the livin' room, two ounces for which I paid $12 and the other ounce was paid for by one of the other bloggers there who just got a new job today. I hadn't expected that -- and didn't have an opportunity to thank whoever was responsible. If he happens by to see this, I just wanna say thanks for the drink. Sorry that I was drinkin' somethin' that was costin' $6 a shot, though.

I did not feel any romance in the air today, despite what my horoscope said this mornin', but I did find a lot of distractions at work, as I correctly forecasted this mornin'. Overall, it was a pretty good day, 'cept for the heat, but as much as I mention it on a regular basis, this is Texas and it is summer, so if it wasn't hotter than Hell, literally, most of us would be wonderin' what the heck was goin' on. We might gripe about it for the next two or three, or maybe even four or five, months, but we know it ain't gonna do a thang to change the situation. It is just somethin' to do, I guess, 'cause I bet Texans have been gripin' about how hot is was for ever' summer since Stephen F. Austin brought the first settlers from the US to what, at that time, was a part of the Spanish colony before Mexico declared its independence from Spain, and the colonists found themselves as Mexican citizens with the rules changed. Such was the catalyst that started the Texas rebellion that started with the Goliad massacre, the stand at the Alamo and ended with the defeat of Santa Anna at San Jacinto at the hands of the Texas Army led by General Sam Houston. Most of that rebellion was fought durin' the spring. I am pretty sure it would have been too hot to fight if they had waited until late June or July to fight.

*Scott thinks the name is a bit inappropriate. I have already suggested that a good graphic artist might do a better job on the icon, and I am not so enamored with the name that I will not give due regard to any better suggestions.

**As if that was a real surprise, huh?

My Official State of the Blog Address

OK, OK, I was sittin' here with my shirt off just lookin' down at my navel contemplatin' whether it was worthwhile to continue this activity, givin' due regard to those two or three people who actually showed some concern that I was thinkin' of quittin'. One person even mentioned that I was rude to have even contemplated such when they had just decided to become a regular reader. Another one emailed me and said I was actin' just like Rachel Lucas. So, given each and every such thought as has been brought to my attention, I have come to the followin' conclusion:

There are several fans of the Nightly Navel Gazin' Report™ who come by ever' day or two to check out how things are goin'. I, myself, actually love to do the weekly review of Berkley Breathed's new comic strip on Eye on Opus™ and also enjoy tryin' to find somethin' funny enough to share on the weekly Friday Funny™. As such, I will likely continue doin' such posts as regularly as I have been doin' for the last few weeks. I am also wantin' to continue my efforts in tryin' to build up the list for the Defenders of Texas, as well. As for lookin' around for other stuff to point out, I am sure most of my readers also read most of the same blogs I do, so they have likely seen such stories. I know that those whose blogs I read on a regular basis might be missin' my linky love, but the amount of linky love goin' 'round the blogosphere lately seems to have been slowin' down a lot anyway, as far as I can see from the links comin' back my way.

I ain't sayin' things will be this way forever,* but that is how I see things goin' for now. Since I am gonna slack off a bit, there is room for someone else to jump in and take up the slack if there is anyone out there** wantin' to do so.

If ya are wonderin' about my navel -- it is because of such that I have decided to continue givin' these nightly reports. It seems to bask in the glow of attention ya'll give it. Such seems to be a big deal to the little dimple in the midst of the soft mostly still black hairs on the summit of my plumb Buddha belly. It has asked me to thank all ya'll for the modicum of support you lavished upon it in the comments these last two days. I did not think it amounted to all that much, but it seemed to be sufficient to satisfy my navel. Squishybear's comment alone was actually enough to make my navel absolutely giddy, but it had asked me to keep that to myself. I, of course, want to do my very utmost to make these reports as accurate and complete as possible, and in that spirit, I felt I should share such. Just don't let my navel know. End of report.

[UPDATE: If a glum tiger is not in accordance with your current fancy, then yuo are more than welcome to go check out Smilin' Tiger [the dropped 'g' is my own fault] You won't find nuthin' of the sort ya find here there. Smilin' Tiger was found via Satisfied and Totally Relaxed.]

*Of course, if 50 different people linked to this post with somethin' sayin' how glad they were that I decided to keep this blog goin, such would do wonders to illuminate the dark spirit that seems to be hangin' 'round me here lately. I, naturally, ain't holdin' my breath 'spectin' such to occur. I ain't a big believer in miracles of such sort, ya see. I definitely would not waste George's time prayin' that He deliver such to me. These petty matters are not worthy of His concern.

**Except that such invitation explicitly excludes Kang A. Roo.

100 Degrees of Perspiration

Well, the bank thermometer hit 100 today. I am unsure if it is the first time that the bank thermometer has done so, because I cannot remember whether it was put up before last summer or not. I am thinkin' it went up last fall, just after school started, but I might be wrong. Of course, that is not so very important, is it?

So, what did ya'll do today? I mean, other than avoid readin' my blog, 'cause that is so obvious it does not merit mentionin'. Me, I mostly contemplated my reasons for livin', and man, was that not ever a depressin' activity. I seem to be gettin' back to same point I have been tryin' to make forever and ever, that without a descendant, I have not fulfilled the ultimate goal of humankind. However, is not the situation mostly outta my control? Time appears to have assured the fact that I am gonna die without havin' done my part to assist the survival of the human species.

On the other hand, though, ya gotta determine whether such was a small part of God's larger plan for humanity, right? If ya finally throw up your hands and place the responsibility for your life's failures upon The Shoulders of God, then ya gotta wonder why He is doin' all of this to you -- why He picked you to be the one to live a wretched, miserable life? Is it not sometimes better to just sit around, covered in sweat, not doin' any thinkin' at all? If only I could suppress those vile, hopeless thoughts that plague my mind. That would, of late, at least, seem to include most of them.

I stuffed myself with an assortment of various foodstuffs for the biggest part of the day today. The purpose for my havin' done so is mostly unknown to me. For some reason, I just seemed to be hungrier than normal. If I was female, I might possibly assume I was pregnant or somethin', but since, I am not, I can only presume that the part of my brain which controls my appetite was a bit out of kilter. My navel is surrounded by a firm round full belly. Although the skin of my abdomen feels clammy, the navel is again dry and cool as a cucumber. You will notice that I did not say dry as a cucumber, because it is drier than that. End of report.

Channellin' the Wicked Witch of the West, me thinks

The humidity is so high, I would swear I am meltin', but that is likely due to the sweat pourin' off my body like water off a duck's back. Oh well, I suppose I Will Survive,* to channel someone else. Heck, and talk 'bout not survivin', with this post, all my hard work and all ya'll links connected with the 89th Carnival of the Vanities falls off the index page. If ya think 'bout it, though, givin' my previous normal daily numbers of postin's, the fact that such post has remained 'mong the last 25 posts after being posted over, what?, 10 days ago, is almost amazin', wouldn't ya say?**

Miraculously so, accordin' to my inspection, despite the fact that almost ever' part of my body is moist with perspiration right this minute, my navel is high and dry. I cannot explain why. Such is a mystery, a mystery without a clue as to why such is true. Thankfully, no one died and no one's life is hangin' in the balance awaitin' for such mystery to be solved. That mundane fact does allow me to go to bed with a clear conscious -- I think. I can't think of anythin' to feel guilty 'bout -- well, 'cept for those 3 or 4 loads of laundry sittin' here and there to be done, and all that trash layin' round that needs to be gathered up and sent to the curb, and, I guess those two sinks of dishes that need to be washed. OK, OK, so I do have a few items to feel guilty 'bout, huh? Thankfully, I am still too tired to think 'bout em. Of course, I can't say the same thing for tomorrow mornin', so if ya'll don't hear all that much from me, I will likely either be doin' some laundry, washin' some dishes, takin' out the trash, or sittin' on my lazy butt in front of the TV watchin' a movie. My arm still aches like it is about ready to fall off, but it ain't changed colors or anythin', so I ain't suspectin' any major injury. I am still just thinkin' it is due to some stress put on the bone or somethin' and it will go away at some point in the future. Of course, that point in the future could be after my life is concluded, but I am not gonna worry too much 'bout it, as I am almost sure it is not a life threatenin' condition. Neither are drippin' pits, thankfully. End of report.

*Gloria Gaynor?

**In the same vein, I thought it miraculous that I likely ran Ad-Aware for the very first time without it findin' anythin' to complain about on my computer.

Keep the jacket, Jack

I came in a few hours ago and sat here lookin' at this box with a lame brain and could not come up with a single idea about anythin' to say. So I got up and went back in the other room and watched Kangaroo Jack without a thought about not bein' able to come up with a lame brain idea --- then, durin' the closin' credits, when I was ponderin' the sort of lame brains that came up with the idea for that movie, I thought, wait, maybe I have something to work with after all. I mean, did I not previously prove that ideas were forthcomin' from lame brains, so how could anyone ever be actually accused of havin' a lame brained idea, right?

OK, I am so very glad I was finally able to get that off of my chest. You just do not know how much it was pressin' on my mind. It was keepin' my mind from ponderin' the condition of of important things such as my navel. More importantly, however, it seems, with the scenes from the movie still fresh in my memory, I cannot seem to get my mind off of the chest of the young lady pictured.

OK, well, enough of the inanity. It is time to get serious. So -- the major dimple in the midst of my Buddha belly is sticky, sticky, sticky. 'Member that swelterin' day from a few days ago -- this might be its twin sister. It is a hot evenin'. How hot is it? Well, it is so hot that I was sweatin' 'afore I could dry off after my shower a bit ago. OK, OK, I know this was a very lame report, but don't forget that it all started off with my complaints of bein' lame brained and unable to come up with an idea. 'Zactly what did you expect -- rocket science? End of report.

Give the man a candy bar

Well, the StatCounter finally went over 100,000, or as renamed, 100 Grand. Whatever. I have noticed that my dearth of postin' as I await the healin' of the hurtin' of my arm has severely affected my readership, but then, again, it did not seem that I impressed that many new people to read my stuff by doin' that Carnival of Vanities either. So, now, just how did I come up with this sore arm? Oh yeah, attemptin' to do a great job on the Carnival of Vanities so as to hopefully increase my readership. Another good idea backfired.

I frequently wonder that my linguistic skills are not as impressive as I imagine them to be. It just may be that, despite my belief otherwise, I have a very lame sense of humor. I am often plagued by doubts that my belief in my own writin' abilities is so far off the mark, that my opinion that my book is destined to be a best seller might also be so very far off the mark. Have I have already wasted too much of my time on it?

Tomorrow is a holiday for the District Courts and the post office. It probably includes banks, as well. Of course, our local court is not taking a holiday. Its one monthly court date was scheduled for tomorrow's date a long long time ago. There was surely not enough time to reschedule ever'thin' so as to accommodate an impromptu holiday in honor of a recently deceased former President. As seems to have been SOP these last couple of months, I did not receive a docket for tomorrow's court date. It may be that I have nuthin' on the docket. I find that hard to believe, and, as such, I intend to be present.

Today was a fairly pleasant day, weatherwise. No rain. Of course, I did not sleep last night, as is normal with all those antihistamines in my system, but, as is also normal, I did rest fairly well. I am quite weary at the current time.

My belly is quite full and plumb and my navel is stretchin' and exercisin' in syncopation with my breathin'. It might be preparin' to compete in the Olympics. Isn't belly dancin' an Olympic event this year? End of report.

Zombie of the day

I awoke this morn to a ragin' sinus headache and no water. No hot tub of water in which to soak my weary bones. No way to rinse away the weariness that eagerly clings to my consciousness each mornin' so as to bring it to a point of readiness necessary to face the day's activities. And I had court.

As there was no way to clean myself, I donned my clothes and headed out for my quick pick-me-up mornin' cup of Dr. Pepper, unsure if the fountain would work if there was no water. On the trip up, I downed four antihistamine tablets. I walked into the store to see a sign proclaimin' rest rooms off limits due to the water bein' shut off. I approached the fountain, filled my cup with ice, and put it under the spigot. With my other hand, I pressed the dispense button, and watched as the cup filled with Dr. Pepper. I was almost sure the fountain would not work without there being water pressure in the line. I guess I will never know by the results of this experiment, however, because, as I left the fountain area, I could hear the tanks on the bathroom toilets beginnin' to fill. So, I am not sure whether the water service was restored before or after I pressed that dispense button. I drove toward the courthouse and downed a couple of sudafeds, as the headache did not seem to be subsidin'.

Somewhere in the middle of court, the effects of the antihistamine megadosin' started to be felt. The headache subsided, which was the upside. The bad side was that the ephedrine had increased my heart rate and my skin was electric. Ever'thin' was not quite as clear and ever'thin' sounded as if filtered through a wahwah box on the way in. Thankfully, I was able to keep my wits about me, even though it did feel like ever'thin' about me was happenin' in slow motion.

Court lasted a bit longer than I had expected, so I was late to Lion's Club, but not too late. I ate, voted on a couple of matters, and the meetin' was adjourned. I walked back to my office, flipped the sign to reflect I would not be back for the rest of the afternoon, took my hot bath and laid down for most of the afternoon. I got up, took my movies in, rented more and came home and watched two movies. I am still feelin' a bit loopy, and am gonna go back to bed and rest the night away, hopefully sufficiently so that I may effectively deal with court tomorrow. Oh, did I mention that it rained all day again today? I am beginnin' to think I need to be buildin' an ark. I did think it was funny to see how many people like myself gathered early at the riverside to see how high the water had risen. It 'twern't near high enough to begin to come out of its banks, but little towns that are built along rivers worry 'bout such stuff when it has rained three straight days in a row. I saw some very sizable tree trunks movin' fastly through the foamin' Paluxy River. It is the fastest fallin' river in the entire state, and dumps into the Brazos just east of town, so The Brazos would have to be severely swelled to 'cause the Paluxy to exceed her banks on any normal occasion.

Damned headache is attemptin' to reassert itself, so guess I had better deal with it. I am about sweated out, so navel is clammy and dry, and so very very apathetic. End of report.

Singin' it right down the middle

I was thinkin' 'bout that GEICO gecko --- not sure why, maybe it was the inanity of that television commercial where it, the aforementioned gecko, is sittin' in the back of the family wagon singin' Ever'body was Kung Fu fightin', but then maybe my thoughts were thusly directed as a result of my inability to remember but one phone number: 1-800-GEICO -- woah --- that ain't right --- that is two digits short . . . OK, let's go to Carrot Top: 1-800-CALLATT -- that's enough numbers, ain't it?. Thusly, flitterin' off on imaginary wires, goes the soothin' mental picture of the little grayish green gecko. The empty space therily left behind is very quickly consumed by the raucous raspin' roar roilin' outta of the craw of that rascally redhead. I tol' ya'll a'fore that I was a cunnin' linguist™, right? And ya'll do know what that means, doncha? Yes, Virginia, it does mean that I am full of [expletive deleted].*

How can it rain all day long and be so damned hot? A total day filled with that swelterin', steamy sensuous sweat inducin' moisture laden air that can choke the life outta ya, ala Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Ya know, they didn't really have any actual cats on hot tin roofs in that story, doncha? Doncha think it would be a bit better if they had? I bet a cat on a hot tin roof don't do much pussyfootin' around.

This kind of weather is also sticky navel weather. I shall leave all the possibilities of such scenario to your own wicked imagination.** Feel free to share any juicy stories. End of report.

*Anyone know what words ya can use and still be a G rated site?***

**Ya'll exceptions to the rules are free to excuse yourselves from inclusion in this set.

***As if!

The strangest coincidence might have gone by unnoticed

Am I the only one that noticed that Reagan died durin' the celebration of the Queen's birthday? Uh, once I put that down on paper, it did not have that Kafkaesque feel that I had hoped. My arm will have to begin feelin' better soon or I am gonna lose my snarky edge, here.

'Twas a long day today, almost exactly 24 hours long, it would appear. Ain't that strange how that matches up? Of course, that 365.25 yearly orbit cycle is the bizarre part. I mean -- a quarter of a day? Is such merely a small miscalculation in the proper calibration of solar system based time? Ponder the philosophical implications of that fact, if ya will. Me, I have always thought all time should be based upon somethin' a bit more static than planetational rotation and orbitation cycles. Let's all set our clocks to the beatin' of a hummin'bird's wings. I think if we picked up the tempo just a bit, we could cram a few more hours into ever'day hereafter.

Oops, was that an intestinal grumble or did my navel voice an objection to my theories of time modification? Could my navel have finally taken notice of some part of the big colorful world that surrounds it, albeit, often hidden from view, concealed behind a shielding barrier of cloth? My poor navel share an existence similiar to that of a Muslim woman's face, I suppose. The implications of that coincidence are frightenin', horrifically frightenin'. End of report.

It's over way a'fore the end

Yep, I needed this weekend to be a couple of days longer. I fret yet that my navel is not sufficiently rested -- or was that my arm? I'll mull that over while I doze. End of report.

It ain't over until the last man falls

or somethin' like that. My thoughts are scattered. I have input a lot of information into my cerebral data processor and it is chewin' that data up and dispensin' mindless blather as I compose this evenin's prose. Erratic sparks among scattered neurons. Click, whir! Reagan died. I was sad to hear the news. I just thought he had died a few years ago. Sorry 'bout that President Reagan, RIP, but 'twern't meant as anythin' of an offense matter, sir. I voted for ya, ya know. whirl, crackle, click! I went to the movie and saw Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Somewhere.* Go see it, don't take small children. Clink, clatter, clunk. Back home. I watched Enterprise on UPN and Are You Bein' Served on PBS. Now how's that for a festive double feature?

Here I am. I see that no one has been around visitin' today --- as I expected. I see no one has commented. See, I am really startin' to get the hang of this bloggin' business. Already, I can tell ya that Saturdays are dead, dead, dead, like three shots from the pistol of the man with no name in a Spaghetti Western from the 70s. My arm still hurts.

Haiku, haiku very, very much. [said in my best Elvis impression, o' course] End of report.

*As if the actual place name has any actual relevance to the story.

The sore arm hiatus, day one

Hey, ya'll. Sorry 'bout the sparcity of postin' but as weekends are seldom good bloggin' days anyway, I figured it was a very very good tome to rest my sore right arm. The plan was additionally approved by my navel. As such, that makes it all right, right?

Oh, but before we close, question for ya'll all: If there was one feature on this blog that you could change, what would it be and how would you change it?

I will be collectin' homework papers tomorrow. End of report.

Thank George that it has come to an end

Bad day in the life of this blogger. Nuthin' life threatenin'. It seems that jes' when ya think ya are seein' daylight, along comes another load of crap in which to find yourself buried. Yeah Life! Savin's Grace: It can only get better. Navel is appropriately poised as normal. End of report.

I hope ya read the joke and laughed, 'cause . . .

that might be about the best thing you get. Me, I am tired, tired, tired. I am not sure how many hours I put into creatin' that Carnival of the Vanities. I see that some of ya'll actually liked it well enough to have commented a bit and to have linked to it with nice remarks on your own blog. I found that Glenn Reynolds no longer links the Carnival, or maybe he just didn't link it 'cause it was on my blog. Who knows? I ain't gonna worry 'bout it no how as I done gave up a long time ago 'bout worryin' what Glenn Reynolds was doin' in as much as my blog was concerned. I do all right without his involvement, anyway. Heck, I tromped the numbers I got from his InstaLanche with my hits on every misspellin' anyone could think of with regard to the decapitated guy.

click to enlargeNow, for the sake of makin' this report worth a hill of beans, or maybe even this won't do it, but ya can't blame a guy for tryin' --- I am gonna pretend ya'll are all from Missouri and show ya jes' what I am talkin' 'bout. See that graph? See them two huge spikes? Well, the one on the left is from the one and only time that Glenn Reynolds linked to me and the one from the right is the accumulation of the multitude of visitors that have come here in response to all the #1's I was gettin' on search engines from people misspellin' the name of Nicholas Berg lookin' for that video. That hoopla is finally dyin' down, as you can plainly see:

click to enlarge

And, despite the flurry of activity that resulted from the spellin' flaws of so many, my navel's ego remained in check. In fact, it appeared unfazed and unaffected durin' the whole ordeal. It was a staid and stoic belly button, one of the most heroic in my command. I was proud of it, and I still am. It is a navel that I am proud to be able to call my own. End of report.

And another long day finally crawls to a close

Whew, seems that midnight hit in many parts of the world before here, but as of about an hour ago, I received the last of the submissions to the Carnival of the Vanities, and every submission has been handled, though most were not done with kid gloves. I mean, you got a link fest hosted by the king of snarky inaniacs and you think I let stuff go by without some commentin'? As if? But, despite all the fun, it was a chore. I am gonna post it a bit after I publish this report, but it will be dated tomorrow, or maybe today, if this report takes longer than I 'spect it to before bein' completed. Ya'll know I sometimes do run on and on.

Speakin' of runnin' on and on, what is it with ya'll runnin' in here and readin' all my funny stuff today and not leavin' comment one? I did post some pretty fine stuff today, or at least, I thought I did. But ya know, I really can't tell one way or another 'less ya'll give me a bit of feedback. It is kinda like these navel reports. I was of the opinion that they were one of the favored postin's I did on a regular occasion. Heck, I was about ready to open a cafe store with t-shirts and/or coffee mugs that said somethin' like "A good day always ends with a cup o' coffee and the Nightly Navel Gazin' Report." My other arm is startin' to hurt as bad as the one I been complainin' 'bout for the last several days. Good thing I ain't got no more laborin' to do on the Carnival.

See, I had this organization thing goin'. I would read the post, bookmark it, then go hunt up a picture to go with my feelin's 'bout the post or what knot, then I would create the entry, which would include the picture, with a link back to the original source of the picture, and some snarky remarks or somethin' then a close with a Nuggets and Gems type link to the post. I ain't counted how many submissions I got, but I think I got a bunch of them. Like I said, I took great pride in the production, but it was a painstakin' process creatin' the thing. You will see some of what I am talkin' 'bout soon. I have looked the whole mess over several times off and on checkin' for spellin' errors and stuff, and I think it is pretty well done.

It is a cool evenin' and I am sittin' here with my shirt off, ceilin' fan blowin' cool air downward. My gazin' of my navel is unobstructed by any barriers, bein' cloth or otherwise, and it is perky and pink, and delectable combination for a navel, at least for a white boy. Most of the surroundin' hairs, that little cherry mole and the plump Buddha belly are well within normal parameters, so all seems well on the navel front for this 1st day of June. Hopefully things will remain static until the next time we meet. Keep your fingers crossed. End of report.

Where is the cavalry* when ya need them?

All of a sudden, I am so really really tired. My eyes are burnin' somewhat fierce, though, I am sure it is just the tiredness of a hard weekend sinkin' in. I am tellin' ya, ya'll likely don't know how much time I have spent in front of this here computer the last few days, readin' Carnival submissions and gettin' ready to show ya'll what kind of host I am. Some of ya'll might be happy and some might be sad, some might be pleased, and some of ya'll might be mad. However, ya'll can bet on one thing: it is gonna be a most fantastic carnivalisitic post. If some of ya'll have been scrollin' down, you might have already had a sneak peak into the proposed festivities, as I have been lookin' at it, huntin' for grammar mistakes, spellin' mistakes, tag mistakes and all other kinds of mistakes for a couple of hours. It seems that no further submission have come around this evenin' and whatever comes in now is gonna be done tomorrow. I wonder if it is already midnight Tuesday anywhere in the world so I can just shut to door on submissions? Oh well, hopefully there will not be that many more.

Anyway, like I said, I am plumb tuckered out. I am sittin' here in a pair of boxer shorts, not underwear, ya see, just a pair of shorts my mom and dad brought me from the Bahamas several years ago from a trip I paid for so as to give them some time to recover from somethin'. It has been too long for me to remember, and since they are both dead now, I suppose it ain't nuthin' all that important to remember. In fact, the only point about the whole thing is that I am sitting here is in shorts, and nuthin' else. Ya know what that means, don't ya? Yep, the navel is exposed and ready to be gazed upon. After havin' given it a thorough examination, I find there is no lint, crumbs of any kind, or any other foreign substances, except for one hair that I suspect fell out of those on my belly surroundin' it, which I easily removed. Although it might be gettin' pretty monotonous to say, the cherry mole is still in the same place it was last time, and it seems like it is not plannin' on leavin' anytime soon. I suppose that is about all I got to report on this time around. End of report.

*I hope I chose the correct homonym to use.

Ever'thin' that four walls would ever want to see

I am really, really needin' a vacation, a place to get away. I had actually thought I would do that last weekend, but that is one of the reasons I no longer have an assistant, because I was afraid to leave my office in her hands for three or four days. I was of the impression that I could not depend upon her to do what was in the best interest of my business when such conflicted with her own personal wants and needs. I did take the few days off, kind of, just to watch what occurred when I did not go in, and what I suspected proved to be true.

So, here comes a good three day vacation, and I am stuck in town. I probably would not have signed up to do the zoo tours if I had not already had to hang around to do the Memorial Day ceremony and put up the flags. I suppose I could ditch it. But there really are not that many in our Post who are young enough any longer to do the labor. Plus I am second in command. Obligations, responsibilities, but to tell you the truth. This is Memorial Day, the day we remember the sacrifices made by those who did not return from servin' our country. They gave ever'thin' for us. My foregoin' a three day weekend seems like such a small sacrifice in return, doncha think?

Anyway, I am guessin' I don't have carpal tunnel syndrome, as my wrists no longer hurt me. All the pain seems to be centered in my elbow pit. I guess my plan on havin' my arm cut off at the wrist and gettin' me a neat hook like that kitten on Susie's blog is naught for now, huh?

It is hot here. Almost June in Texas. If'n it wasn't hot, it would be strange. It only gets worse from here on out until sometime in mid to late September. I just got out of the bathtub and ever' one of my 47 pairs of underwear are dirty. I need to do a load. As such, if these four walls had eyes --- and night vision --- they would be able to see my navel in all of its glory, as well as several other choice body parts. However, it is dark. I can see the navel from the ambient light emitted from the monitor as I type this and it looks clean, really clean. I guess I did a good job in the bathtub. The cherry mole is still there as well. No signs of hanky panky. I would end this report right here, but I need a favor. I want to be able to read somethin' from our troops on the front lines tomorrow that would be appropriate for Memorial Day. If any of ya'll have a link to such, leave it here in the comments so that I can print it out before I go to the ceremony tomorrow mornin'. That concludes our business for this evenin'. End of report.

Another glorious day comes to an end

Well, I began the day early, as I must when I have the early tour at the local wildlife center/zoo. I am drinkin a couple of ounces of some green stuff someone told me makes them feel better, some holistic stuff that cost me $40 to buy. Second day to take it, and so far, I have not found I feel any different than any other day, but we will see how much better I am feelin' after I finish the bottle, which supposedly will last a month, or maybe half a month, or somethin' like that. I tried HGH once, but I did not see it turn my gray hair back to brown or reduce the number of wrinkles on my face, so I gave up on such. My grandmother is a big believer in things like vitamins and such, as well as allowin' George, although I suppose it would be all right to refer to him as God, as it is a legitimate use of usin' his name, to assist you in healin'.

I really don't know, to tell ya the truth whether stuff like this works or not. They have some stuff they call black salve or somethin' that supposedly has cured cancer in several people. I actually know one of them who had skin cancer and supposedly it disappeared. The doctor was amazed when she came back for her checkup and he could no longer find a sign of such. Another person has been fightin' a brain tumor for years, and is takin' the stuff, and supposedly his doctor is amazed to see the tumor is growin' smaller instead of bigger. Like I said, maybe some faith is involved. All I know is that if I get cancer, I think I will be takin' some of that black salve stuff, myself. Now if only there was somethin' out there that would reverse all the damage on your teeth, heck, I would be their guinea pig for sure.

I also have zoo duty again in the mornin' so I have to get to bed soon. I took a nap this afternoon after finishin' my tour, which is supposed to take about 2 hours, but this one took about 3.5 hours, mainly 'cause the park was full and we got stuck in traffic here and there, and partly because I ain't finished the tour in less than 2.5 hours ever.

Did I ever tell ya'll about that little bell sound that goes off on my computer when the clock hits midnight? I used to always go crazy tryin' to find what was goin' wrong and where the error message was until it happened a couple of times and I finally caught on as to what it was all about. I guess such is in the manual for usin' Windows XP somewhere, but has any of ya'll ever read the manual? Do any of ya'll know where it is? I ain't sure I could find it if I wanted to do so.

Would it be a bigger shame if I did not even mention my navel in tonight's Nightly Navel Gazin' Report? Well, I won't do so and will mention such. However, despite my doin' so, there really just ain't much new to report. The cherry mole is still there, but I think it will be there as long as the navel stays around. I suspect there is somethin' romantic about the situation, but I cannot be sure at this time. End of report.

Almost forgot: Denita was very quick on the draw and keen of eye and, as such, wins a million Kudos for correctly identifyin' Steve Dallas. A million Kudos, under the current exchange rate, is worth like a peso, I think.

Can I trade you 4 diphthongs for that $50 multisyllabic word?

Well, I didn't do much work today. I wasn't plannin' on doin' any work today, as I had to take part in a Memorial Day service at our local senior citizen center just before noon, but as I pulled my car out of the drive this mornin', that beep that lets me know my tank is almost empty went off. Now I try to be a good local citizen and do as much shoppin' locally as possible, but gasoline is one thing that I usually go to the neighborin' town to buy. When the price difference is 10¢ to 12¢, you can save several dollars if your tank takes more than 15 gallons or so to fill. Of course, I drive back and forth to that town so many times a week, that usually it is just a stop at Walmart on my way home. I was in a hurry for some reason last time I came home and did not have time to stop. Knowin' I was gonna make the trip over, I remembered I had a couple of things I wanted to file with the District Clerk the next time I was goin' over, so I stopped by the office and picked up the files. I say I picked up the files. Actually, I forgot how I went back out to my car and had backed it out into the street and was ready to drive off before I noticed I did not have the files. Anyway, I had to back track and go unlock the door to go get them. That second try cost me a meetin' with a client, as I got caught just as I was comin' back out the door with the files in my hand. So, I spent a few minutes speakin' with my client, and then was finally on my way.

He had actually formerly lived in that town and had a lot of old friends there, he said. He also told me somethin' I did not know. He said at some time in the past, near the turn of the past century, there had been a bad yellow fever epidemic in Galveston, and the Santa Fe Railroad had a trainload of infected people they were movin' from town to town tryin' to find some town willin' to accommodate these ailin' people. Well, our neighborin' town was the only town willin' to take all those people, he said. The railroad rewarded the town by creatin' their repair center there, and became the biggest employer in town. He said they paid really well and it assisted a lot of the townsfolk to get fairly wealthy. Well, I finished my breakfast and was already runnin' late, so I sped on off to Walmart, bought that shoppin' card that saves me an additional 3¢ a gallon, and filled up my tank. It still took over $30 to fill it. Unbelievable!

Anyway, no further submissions came in for the remainder of the day. I tried to watch a movie on one of those cheap DVDs I buy at Walmart from time to time. Sometimes it is quite evident why the DVD was so cheap. This movie is horrible. It has Peter Coyote and Danny Glover in it, but the dialog is idiotic, the actin' is horrible, and the story is like The Prisoner done by a 6 year old. The title is Deadly Drifter. Pass this one up, seriously. I mean the character does not know what is goin' on and you sure as heck don't. It is paused and I will likely get through it, or maybe I won't. I know it ain't gonna be tonight. I got zoo duty on the next two mornin's so I am gonna make it an early night tonight, provided I get this dang report finished soon.

My arm is startin' to hurt. Actually, it has been hurtin' for most of the day. I just got back from the store where I refilled my cup with Dr. Pepper and purchased a pint of mint-chocolate chip ice cream. I know ya'll Yankees think like Ben & Jerry's ice cream and crap like that is good, but there really ain't nuthin' better than good ol' Blue Bell. I promise ya that! So, anyway, just prior to that store run, I was just sittin' here thinkin' some Carnival submissions would soon come in, and while I was whilin' away that time, I redid my title graphic. I did it in Flash, as I had been plannin' to do for some time, but after I got to tinkerin', I actually decided that any animation would be distractive and there was no necessity to add loadin' time as well. I am pleased with my creation.

I wanted a mascot of some kind, but I searched for a cat with a pirate hat and a hook on its paw, as if. No, I already had someone else in mind. He is the one up there, but I ain't gonna tell ya who that is. I bet he looks familiar to some of ya'll, and the first correct guesser gets a handful of Kudos, or somethin'. I still have some plastic-ware in the prize basket as well as a stuffed raccoon. The raccoon is not a plush toy, but a really bad taxidermy job. The thing stinks. Actually, I just gave ya'll a load of bull. I ain't really got no stuffed raccoon in the prize basket. I don't even have any plastic-ware in there. In fact, I don't even have a prize basket. What I do have is a ton of Kudos. As far as I know, those are imaginary, and one thing I do have in abundance is imagination.

Well, that seems like enough utterly inane crap about me and my life for this report. Let's get to the navel, 'cause we all know that is what ya'll come here to read about. Well, it has been a hot and muggy day and the navel quickly became a moist and sticky lint magnet. I therefore have covered it with a lint free garment. Such makes it unobservable, but I can truthfully report that it is voicin' no complaints about its condition. I am unsure about the condition of little cherry mole, however. It has already shown a tendency to be a bit shy. End of report.

Now ya see it, now ya don't

Well, the submissions have been comin' in for the Carnival of the Vanities. Actually just tricklin' in here and there. Still, I figure I better stay on top of it, or I will be caught in a pinch by the time it is official postin' time. I guess what ya'll don't know it that the Carnival, what there is of it, has already been published on this site. Ya just didn't see it. Well, ya might have, if ya had checked out the very bottom post on the main page, the one entitled "Testin'." Yeah, I had to actually post it here to see how the elements fit together in the template. I can look at it and look at it as a web page with the .css elements all I want, but that just don't give me the same feel as bein' inside the template and therefore bein' squeezed between two columns does. I am pleased with it though. I am 'spectin' it will be a grand show for all, 'cause as you can see from my more resent postin's, I am a pretty grand producer when I put a bit of effort into it. I am hopeful that when June 2 rolls around, this week's Carnival will be unveiled to a rampant fanfare of applause.

I do think it quite ironic that I am hostin' the Carnival since it has become my custom to hardly ever submit anythin' to any of these Carnivals. My reasonin' is behind this is three-fold:

1. I can seldom find any of my posts which I truly feel is more worthy than many of the others;
2. I am too lazy busy to reread my crap so as to discover anythin' really worthy of bein' submitted; and
3. I closely monitor my traffic and have seen very little, if any, come my way from such efforts.

Truthfully, I have almost come to the conclusion that most bloggers spend so much time on their own bloggin' efforts that they rarely have time to do too much readin' of other people's blogs. Due to this top story that has brought all the traffic to my site here recently, I have actually seen untold numbers of visitors to my site and even seen a fairly good smatterin' of inane comments from some of these new visitors. I have come to the conclusion that non-bloggers ought to be the target audience more so than your fellow friends and competitive bloggers. Oh that is not to say that I do not run here and there lookin' to see what John or Ted or Susie or Anna had to say. No, I am a fan of other bloggers as well. Those people that I do read, I generally read everythin' they produce. If I see one of their posts listed in a Carnival, I am purty sure that I have already read it.

Hey, I like producin' stuff that people will admire. I am definitely tryin' to create a Carnival of the Vanities like none that has previous come before, and that is a tall order. This one will be No. 89, so that means there have already been 88 prior attempts at unique publication. Doin' somethin' completely different is gonna be almost impossible. Light the fuse, 'cause I am gonna give it a go.

OK, this navel thing. What is it? Why is my navel so serene, parked in the midst of my plump Buddha belly and without a clue as to its popularity? Hey, is that little cherry mole on the leeward side new? I don't 'member it bein' there last night. Hmmm. Finally, sumthin' substantial to report: Navel finds itself in close proximity with small cherry mole. Unconcerned with encroachment of new neighbor. End of report.

Hardly none so far, and very little more to come

Yep, not much postin' today, was there? It was a busy day. It started early, as most do. All seem to start much earlier than I wish they did, but then I suppose if I went to bed earlier ... naw! Ain't gonna happen. Forget it. I ain't gonna end up like my great-grandparents who went to bed when it got too dark to see without lights and arose when the sun was reachin' mornin' twilight stage. I do remember them stayin' out on the front porch much after dark shellin' peas if there was a good moon, but other than that, it was time to go to bed. They did not believe in usin' any more electricity that was needed. I mean, you had about a minute to turn on the light to get your pajamas on, and you had better hurry, 'cause that light was goin' out fast.

Anyway, I was gonna make this short tonight. First of all, here is today's horrorscope:

Your Wednesday, May 26, 2004, Horoscope. Taurus!

Look forward to another big career day. You could be in the right place at the right time when a boss or authority type is in the mood to be impressed. Focus on looking like you have already earned the promotion you seek.

So, the navel is fine, and so is the navy, I think. At least, neither was on the news tonight, or, at least, I don't think so, but then again, I didn't watch it. I didn't really do much of anythin' 'cept work on the two submissions to the Carnival I am hostin' next week. Ya'll do realize that the early birds get the best pictures, 'cause I actually have time to search for them, whereas those latecomers might get nada in the graphics department. I'm just sayin', ya know? Navel, no news is good news. End of report.

*Anyone knows where I swiped that big head likely knows where I was and what I was wastin' time on this evenin'. I PhotoPainted it a bit to remove the evidence of it origins.

Just a dab of Happily Ever After Potion

Well, it seems that Hollywood has stolen one of my gags and put it into a major motion picture. I ain't gonna tell which movie it is, but surely ya'll remember I was the one who was sayin' that the Democrats' donkey symbol was an ass, right? What? You don't remember this? Yeah, yeah, I know I said jackass and not merely ass, and that the movie just used the term ass and not jackass in reference to a character mostly referred to as Donkey, but still, I have a feelin' that people from Pixar are readin' my blog.

Speakin' of that Kit, that soap, and last night, I just wanted to tell ya'll how utter hard it was to get that damned bar of imaginary soap out of that box. Acme must have kept the price down on the Pipedream Kit by puttin' certain products within the Kit without bein' properly wrapped. Do you realize how slippery a bar of imaginary soap can be? I could hardly grasp it long enough to pull it from the box. I finally got it firmly wrapped inside a terry cloth washrag and successfully removed it, and did use such to wash that imaginary Benji slobber out of my navel.

Tonight, I am too tired to daydream about anythin' includin' Acme Pipedream Kits. However, I can tell all of ya'll that I am now an official purveyor of fine Acme Products. I am the sole and exclusive distributor of those Pipedream Kits. All ya'll Roadrunner hunters send in your supply lists.

Did I not mention that I was tired? But, then again, I forgot to tell ya'll why I was thinkin' havin' people from Pixar readin' my blog was not so bad, didn't I? Well, mostly has to do with that book, the one none of ya'll seem to keen on knowin' 'bout. It might just be somethin' into which Pixar people could sink their teeth. But, ya'll ain't interested in that, are ya? Nope, all ya'll are concerned with is the report. Has the navel seen any action today? Did it come under fire from the enemy? Did it fire upon any enemies? Did it take prisoners? Is this line ever inane? I did say I was tired, didn't I? End of report.

Oh, by the way, there was no conscious omission in not choosin' someone as today's Stupidest Human of the Day™, I was just too busy to look around for one today and no one gave me any nominations for such either. As such, all humans were smart enough today so that no one was stupider than any other. That's my story and I am stickin' to it.

Mostly imperceptible to the human eye

Well, most of ya'll might have noticed that I tweaked the index and .css templates a bit here and there. Ya'll know me, always tryin' to keep my blog lookin' spiffier than anythin' in my real life. I 'spect if I put as much effort into findin' me a fine honey as I do tryin' to compose snarky posts on a regular enough basis to keep ya'll entertained, I would likely have Renée Zellweger hangin' off my arm at some exotic location, or some other such pipedream. No, ya gotta stick with what ya are middlin' decent at, if ya ain't good at nuthin'. 'Bout the only thing I am really good at doin' is lawyerin' but that only works where the law is fully in effect. The jury is still out on that question in our local arena, I 'spect. I hear both the good and bad 'bout most ever'thin' connected with the local courts and the people who ply their trades within those courts. As with most things, ya never know what to believe and what not to believe. As is my wont, as many of my regular readers know, I tend to be a skeptic, along the lines of a citizen of Missouri. If'n ya want me to be a 100% believer in what ya are pushin', ya gotta show me it is true.

OK, take a deep breath here. How did I ever get from I tweaked the templates to show me all of your evidence? Man, was that a scenic trip or what? I really enjoyed the part where Renée Zellweger was hangin' on my arm. And her hair smelled nice, really nice. Do what? It is my pipedream, here, Buster, and I can sniff Renée Zellweger's hair in my own pipedream if I so choose to do so. Now ya ruined it! Renée is nowhere to be found and I find Benji in my lap. He smells like a dog. Well, actually he kinda smells like a dog that has had a nasty encounter with a skunk.

Hey, ya'll attorneys in the audience, quick! Can ya sue an imaginary butt-head for ruinin' your pipedream? My gut feelin' is no, but heck, if the families of people crossin' the border illegally and endin' up dyin' in the desert from thirst can sue the US of A for failure to provide water fountains in the midst of such desert, I figure I might have a shot, right? And, I was havin' a really luscious, tropical pipedream starrin' jes' me and Renée Zellweger and poof, she is gone, and I am stuck with a stinky dog. That jes' clamors for litigation or action of some sort.

OK, now this is gettin' a bit bizarre. It seems that Benji from my pipedream is lickin' my navel. That is just yucky. I am now gonna have to go wash a bunch of imaginary dog slobber from my belly button. Are you supposed to use regular soap and water to do that, or do you use the imaginary soap and water that comes with the Acme Pipedream Kit? End of report.

It really always is somethin', ain't it?

I bought a PDA the other day. Why? I couldn't find a decent pocket calendar. So, I got it out, was gonna fiddle with it, but it seems that the battery is fried. Someone suggested that there may be some plastic shield in place, that such are currently bein' used to protect items durin' shippin' and it is often forgotten to mention such in the documentation. So, I thought, surely it would not be all that hard to look at the battery itself and see if one or the other of the contact posts was somehow impeded. Well, upon examination, it appeared that the only way to look at the battery was to remove the back from the device which was obviously held on by two tiny screws. It took me an additional day or so to locate my tiny Phillips head screwdriver, which would necessarily fit down into the bottom of the hole so as to loosen said screws.

The screwdriver did not seem to be catchin' though, so I did the best I could to peer down into those little holes to look at the heads on those tiny screws. It looks like I need a very tiny screwdriver with a torx head on it. Like where in the overheated nether regions can I find one of those. What with the current price of gasoline, drivin' the 100 miles round trip to take it back to Fry's is gonna additionally cost me a fairly large chunk of change.

Of course, I suppose I could use a few other items I might find at Fry's. Let's see, I could likely use a nice economical refrigerated A/C device to put in a window of my bedroom, as I find the heat pumped centralized A/C system does not do that good of a job of coolin' off the house for as much as it costs to run it. Of course, I might find that just coolin' off my bedroom with a small A/C will cost as much. But I am willing to try it anyway.

Another thing that I suppose I could look for is a electric sonically cleaning device to assist in gettin' those tiny scraps of lint that sometimes end up in my navel, although, one of the powerful miniature vacuum devices might also do the trick. Then I could continue to clean it the hard way, with a wet soapy terry cloth washrag. It is really important to keep those navels really clean, ya know? I mean it ain't like you ever know when you might end up in the hospital, and like your momma always said, the last thing you wanted if you ended up in the hospital was for anyone to discover you had a bit of lint in your navel, right? End of report.

Timin' is ever'thin'

Well, it took me forever to find a theater that was still showin' "The Alamo" but I finally did, way on the other side of the city. I ain't talkin' 'bout the little town where I live, but the city that is about an hour away: Ft. Worth. The movie was not as bad as I thought it was gonna be, but then again, it was a bit borin' in parts. It ain't like I was not familiar with the story. Of course, I can tell ya, I was pretty tired, as it was 12:30 am or so when I finally got out of the theater and was on my way home. I just got home and am sittin' here lookin' right down at my navel. No sign of any lint in there, nor any other foreign objects, so I supposed it is doin' as well as usual. Good, because I am tired as heck and am ready for bed. End of report.

Applause is expected accepted

Well, I am still here ... I think. Physically, I seem to be present ... includin' the star of this show, das navel. Das is German but I ain't got a whittlin' idea* what the German word for navel might be. It is difficult to come up with stuff, so givin' the whole report that hint of Germanity with the simple use of the term das seemed the simplest thing I could do. Now is that entire scenario not so far out in the ozone? What kind of mind thinks up this crap, seriously. Is Germanity even germane to this discussion? Why am I still here? Where did I need to go?

Bed .. sounds like as good a destination as can be. The sun rises on a new day tomorrow. I suspect the star of this show will begin tomorrow as it has every day for almost 50 years ... firmly implanted in the midst of my belly. It is likely a meanin'less existence, but then, it is all the navel has ever known. I am bettin' it is content. I sure ain't been hearin' no complaints. Vote: Inane, Mundane, Germane, or Nader? Somethin' like that ... 'cause I just popped a neuron ... seriously. I felt it, or thought it ... actually, or ... it was more as if my entire thought process just came to an screechin' halt. The generic term is brain fart. Navels never experience those. They have a very mundane existence. End of report.

*I ain't got no idea why this modifier was placed in this position, as it is definitely not germane.

Throw me a life preserver, quickly

Oh, man oh man, is the situation ever growin' more insane. I received an email earlier tonight:

From : bandwidth@tig.mu.nu
Sent : Thursday, May 20, 2004 6:46 PM
To : --me--@hotmail.com
Subject : The domain tig.mu.nu (tiger) is about to exceed bandwidth limit

The domain tig.mu.nu (tiger) has reached 80% of its bandwidth limit. Please contact the system admin as soon as possible.

Whatever happens from this time forward is Pixy's call. I cannot stop all those people from visitin' and cannot change the fact that Google is listin' my blog in the top spot on almost every misspellin' of the name possible. I guess I should just be thankful I am not listed all that high for the right spellin' or my daily visitation numbers might be in the millions, like Wizbang's. All I know is that I really did not need any stress of any sort, right now. I have just about reached my stress point. I am about ready to pull my hair out, but, of course, I cannot find enough hair on my head to grip, what with so much of it missin' and the rest cut so short it would be hard to grab. I know, I have tried.

Not much real news on the navel front for today, however. I did have to flick a nasty piece of lint out of it earlier, but the extraction went well and the navel recovered without too much difficulty. It is the rest of me that needs rest, relaxation and recuperation. A good night's rest will do wonders. I just hope I can get a good night's rest, or will it be another night of tossin' and turnin'? Place your bets. End of report.

Take two and then call me in the mornin'

As if I have any idea what I am talkin' 'bout. My eyes are droopy and dreary and it is hot as heck again. I had to break down and turn on the A/C just so as to cool this place down enough to sleep. I did that last night after I posted the report, and noticed that the thermostat kicked the system off after a few minutes. What the hey, right? If'n I can't afford to pay the 'lectric bill, I can always quit eatin'. If'n ya ain't got a lot of fat insulation, surely ya will be cooler, huh? O' course, I likely ain't got a lot of fat there of any amount anyway. I have been on the poverty diet for quite aspell now.

These high fuel prices are workin' their magic on us all, it seems. I would begin carpoolin' but I already live practically within walkin' distance from my office. It is that 50 mile round trip to the next burg that uses up all my fuel, and there ain't no one from here goin' that way, it seems, at least not on the same exact schedule as myself.

I guess I need to buy me a moped, or one of them 'lectric scooters. I already had one of 'em, but it seems when they say weight limit is 200lbs., they mean 180lbs. not 220lbs. It wouldn't drag my big butt a foot, it seems. I ended up givin' it to some kid, but he seemed to have it torn up in about a week. Money down the drain. Ain't the first time, and I am so doubtful it will be the last. I am a'bettin' if I strained my brain a bit, I might come up with an example of such occurrin' since that occasion. However, my brain is dead and beyond bein' strained at this point, it seems.

Hey ya'll, I think I just discovered somethin' I didn't know. I think this funny sound I been hearin' night after night about this time that I thought was lettin' me know someone has gone offline or some stupid error occurred which I was never able to find, was just my computer tellin' me midnight had arrived. A mystery solved.

So, where were we before we got so rudely interrupted? Dead brains, I think. Wait, my brain is dead right now, so I can't think. Ain't that the point I was tryin' to make. I sure do wish my navel would take over. But, of course, as usual, it just lays there, doin' nothin' but lookin' cute ... like that is doin' me a bit of good when I am so brain dead I can't think of a thing to say. Fine, be that way! Navel: cute, mute and stubbornly resolute. Me: brain dead, finally gettin' cooler and goin' to bed. End of report.

I have come down with a sudden case of the beal, I guess

I just don't feel like bloggin' tonight. I mean the only two things I blogged on all day were about people who died today. That is a bit depressin'. Besides, I am really tired, for some reason. It might be the heat and humidity. My navel is sweaty. I am bein' a cheapskate and refusin' to turn on the A/C so as to keep the 'lectric bills down low. The fan is movin' the air, but it ain't all that cool. End of report.

[UPDATE: I did forget to mention that I went to see Troy today, and as I was leavin', I heard some young guy mention it was not as good as the book. I was thinkin' to myself, "The Iliad"? Hmmm, so all the special effects that Hollywood can bring to bear, includin' castin' Brad Pitt as the almost immortal Achilles, and somethin' Homer wrote almost 3000 years ago is still better. It was a good movie, I thought, but then I also think The Iliad is about as good of a story tellin', as you could find.]

Is there anythin' new left to tell?

I have not seen too many people commentin' on these reports since I reinstated them. I used to think they were some of the favorite daily posts I did, but here lately, I am wonderin' if the hiatus killed the thrill or somethin'.

Ecosystem is still on the fritz, it seems, but my visitation numbers there are doin' well:

172) Abject Apathetic Procrastination 1031 visits/day (661)

Navel is well, or so I presume. It is so hot and humid, I cannot imagine why I am still wearin' this shirt, other than it is one of those I am too lazy to get comfortable situations that was once a topic of conversation on The Introverted Exhibitionist previously. Still, if my navel is as weary as the rest of me, especially my right arm which is achin' like all get-out right now, it is ready to go to bed. Even if not, I am hopeful it won't struggle too much in the efforts to urge it to accompany the rest of me on such venture. I am gonna presume it is unharmed and doin' well. End of report.

Navel Under a Hot Tin Roof by Tennesee Tuxedo

"Oh my, but what it is a hot, swelterin' evenin' here. I could literally swoon, I tell ya. I need a mint julep or somethin'. One of ya'll please bring me an iced tea or a col' lemonade, won't ya Sugars?" She had on the most vexin' tube top. He watched her as she fanned herself with a TV magazine while sittin' in front o' the fan coolin' herself in that li'l tin roofed trailer on lot 15.

Hopefully, that will give ya'll just a taste of the temperature of the air and of my blood this night. Navel condition frisky! Much ado 'bout nuthin' though, 'cause this big ol' house is empty. End of report.

It might blow this time

Oh, gosh, just got home a bit ago from the family reunion, and did I ever eat. I am worn to a frazzle and ready for bed. My eyes are so closed to bein' completely closed that I cannot quite make out my navel. It is sittin' atop that great big catfish filled belly of mine, though, so it is likely to have a rumblin' good time tonight. End of report.

I couldn't have thunk up a better title if I had tried*

Friday 14th May 2004:

• page loads:3,325
• unique visitors: 2,458
• first time vistors: 2,391
• returning visitors: 67

Well, I am one really tired cookie. I have been bloggin' up a storm all day, and got a family reunion to attend tomorrow, after I go vote for a couple of people first. So read away, and, just in case there ain't nothin' new the next time you come around, there are a lot of good blogs on my blogroll. Where do you think I get all these goodies I blog about, well at least all the ones that ain't about me and my navel or whatever, ya know?

Speakin' 'bout my navel, guess what ya'll? That little booger is doin' great, I tell ya. He is all snuggled up under my shirt havin' a good time doin' whatever it is that navels do when no one is lookin'. I bet it is happier than a bullfrog sittin' on a freshly laid cow patty. End of report.

*And I didn't try a whit.

Maybe it was a good idea, but I don't know

OK, someone said takin' a bath with Epsom Salts was very relaxin'. So I went out and bought some Epsom Salts and ran me a bath, poured those Epsom Salts in it, and then soaked for awhile. I felt pretty good sittin' in the bath, but not any differently that I usually feel sittin' in a hot bath, so I am not sure if maybe I just wasted a few bucks on some stuff that did nothin'. I just wonder. The day was really long, so I am worn to a frazzle. I did not get to read as many blogs as I wanted because my dialup was being more cranky than usual -- as if that could actually be possible.

So, time for me to take my navel to bed, whether it be relaxed or not because I am gonna have to arouse it early in the mornin' to start another day. It is not a mornin' navel, I can tell that that much. I have the hardest time tryin' to drag it out of bed. Thankfully, I find I am generally assisted in the convincin' by the full bladder. Well, enough of this inanity for this day. End of report.

The Caped Belly Button Avenger Returns!

Shhhh...

I'm going to type this very quietly, so as to not wake the sleeping lump in the corner who calls himself "notGeorge"...

He has gone to sleep, and I have appeared to give you your favourite little story for the day. You need not get too excited however, as I am about to find some lunch, so this will be short. Hmm... it feels very strange to be doing a Nightly Report in the middle of the day...

But anyway, I'm sitting here, typing quietly, and hoping that you will not worry about me intruding and then wake him up. I am, as my name suggests, invited here - intruder or no.

At the present moment, strange or somewhat bizarre noises are beginning to be emitted from the general area of my navel, but I fear that is somewhat more to do with not having had lunch yet. I am counting down the minutes, and it should not be too much longer before I am able to satisfy the dragon within.

Having said more than I intended to say, I wish all your navels a safe and untroubled sleep, mine included, and I'll endevour to sneak out quietly, and leave our little notGeorge friend undisturbed.

Niters All!

The long and winding road

Thanks for allowing me to make an obscure Beatles reference in closing this place down. It is so hard for me to imagine this is only Tuesday evenin' as I am so very very worn out already. I cannot even think of anything snarky to say. I am even gonna pass on any report on the condition of my navel ... just take it for granted it is OK ... 'cause I'm hot blooded, check it and see! If ya absolutely need to find somethin' really funny, then go here. End of report.

The Early Edition

The excessive amount of work related, stressful, activities has definitely damped my creativity level for this day. In fact, I feel not only mentally fatigued, but physically fatigued as well. There just seems to be little or nothin' worthy of reportin' on to my knowledge and I am too tuckered to check if there may be somethin' too good upon which to pass.* Hopefully there is a gem or two buried down below you haven't seen, if you are just in the mood for my superb brand of snarkiness, but ... if you happen to be among the three or four who miss nothin' I could possibly have to say, then feel free to visit any of the fine blogs on either of my blog listin's: the blogroll or the listin' of the Munuvian Universe. Click anythin' as it is hard to go wrong.

I am pleased to report that the navel did prevail over the wild hair. I won a nickel on my bet with my big toe, but he had to borrow a nickel from me to pay off the bet. Hey, I told you I was on the flat end of the creativity curve, didn't I? So what did you really expect? End of report.

[UPDATE: I knew there was somethin' I had discovered earlier that I was savin' for this danged report and it came to me after I had already published it. I noticed that I am atop the list of the Maraudin' Marsupials, so a link or two and I will be again huntin' in the game filled Large Mammal filled savannas. As an aside, I noticed enough of those links to my former blog have fallen off the front page that I am atop it in the standings for the first time as well. It drops and this one continues to climb. Now that was some news worthy of the Nightly Navel Gazin' Report™ so now I don't have to go to bed feelin' I left ya'll hangin'.]

[UPDATE the second chapter: I finally got a mention in one of those picture captionin' contests and actually came away with the blue ribbon.]

[UPDATE the final chapter: When Windows crashes its own built in browser --- that is a good sign to call it quits for the day. ttfn and all those hugs and kisses and jazz.]

*I suppose I don't have to mention that the Portuguese** bloggers are havin' a war of the sexes, do I? Surely that is old news to most of ya'll.

**Let us make that "Portuguese language" bloggers, as it is quite possible some or all could be located in Brazil.

The creative process continues

Well, actually, after I posted it, I thought about how great a Nightly Navel Gazin' Report the post just two below would have been ... I mean, all I would have had to do was end that with a line sayin' how I found a wild hair growin' out of my navel, and I could have quit for the day. I posted it and then the epiphany hit me -- epiphanies are like that. They just come when they come.

Just let me give you a little insight into the epiphany process. This epiphany saga begins this past Friday when I decide that the time line in my book is not making any sense, so I decide to add a day, which means at least one more chapter. Of course, the characters also spend the entire day confined in close quarters on the space vessel while in flight. The juices had dried up and I dearly needed an epiphany of some sort.

I began, of course, with watchin' Saturday mornin' cartoons. I got nothin' of an inspirin' nature, although I might still put that frisco gag in there if I can ever get the full 411 on that. [see somewhere below]. I decided to go rent a bunch of movies, and spent the entire day yesterday and most of this afternoon watchin' movies. An epiphany did or did not hit durin' one of those movies. The seed however was planted and it quickly blossomed into a beautiful epiphany. Of course, it blossomed at the wrong time: the last hour of the last day of the weekend. Such is the nature of epiphanies. They are seldom convenient.

For those few of ya'll that share a bit of interest in the development of this book, I have pasted the few pages that I have taken the greater part of the last 48 hours to create. It's rough. It will need some editin' to polish it. Creativity is a time consumin' process, as well.

The navel has been accosted by a wild hair and an ongoing battle has ensued. Too close to call at this juncture. End of report.

Brink-o-Link begins: "Truth or Dare. Alura. Which one of your parents are you most like?"

Alura responds, "I never knew anything about either of my parents. They died when I was just a baby."

Bzzzz. "Wrong! Do the dare, slap Hor/10".

"It's true!" Alura plead.

"It didn't answer the question!" Brink-o-Link says.

Don't argue with the judge. Do as he says. RJ chided her from his position somewhere in her head.

Alura turns slightly and slaps Hor/10 on his massive arm before he had readied himself.

"Owww!" was his response.

"Dik. Truth-or-Dare! What is the total amount of your net worth?"

Dik hrrrmphs! "I would never disclose that!"

Bzzz. "Pinch Hor/10!"

Hor/10 heard and readied himself for the pinch. Dik's claw was sharp and being pinched with it, even playfully, hurt, all the same.

"Owwwwww!" he cried.

Hor/10, how far did you go in school?

"I dropped out in Ninth grade. That was four years ago."

"I think you are lying, Hor/10. You are not that smart. Take off those sunglasses and let us see your eyes."

Hor/10 looks down at Alura. Alura nods her head. Hor/10 removes the sunglasses only momentarily, but not quickly enough so that all present saw that he had a bright pink pupil in either eye. Dik, of course, already knew such fact, as it had been the primary reason he had tipped Hor/10 with the sunglasses in the first place. He had, personally, found the orbs a bit difficult into which to look.

"Alura, Truth or Dare - Ladies' Choice: Either tell us how much you are worth financially or tell us how far you went in school."

"I never went to traditional school. I was home-schooled,."Alura replied.

Bzzz.

Alura quickly blurted, "I have over a million dollars in a safe in my cabin."

Bzzz. Bzzz. Kick Hor/10 in the shin twice.

"No!" Alura said.

"No!" Hor/10 cried.

Don't argue with the judges, RJ chided. Just do it!

Alura reluctantly taps Hor/10's left shin with the toe of her boot, twice.

Hor/10 flinches both times, and begins to cry, "I don't like this game."

"Me, either. RJ, you are in my head and you know I am telling the truth," Alura, says out loud for the benefit of all present.

Dik agrees as well. "I am a member of the Zartronian royal family. I cannot answer question of a personal nature or that may threaten the security of the Zartronian Empire. They are not just not proper subjects for discussion. Let's play something else."

Please, please - you don't have to apologize

I suck and I'm really sorry... - Jane

It is Saturday, so not much happened IRL or in the blogosphere that is noteworthy which has not already been noted with my regular level of snarkiness. My navel seems to be none the worse for wear and is in very fine form right now. I cannot say the same for my coccyx. End of Report.

It might take another day or so ... ya know

Went to bed. Took navel with me, forcibly, at gun-point.* End of report.

Parts of this post were intentionally meant to be funny. Your mission, Mr. Phelps, should you choose to accept it is to find the funny parts and laugh. Good luck, this blog will spontaneously combust at some date to be determined at a future point.

*No, not really --- asshats!**

**Sneakin' through the back door to say WB Rachel Lucas, WB, WB, WB. Co-starrin' John Travolta.***

***OK, all ya'll that didn't get that, go away. Seriously, you are too young or too stupid to be readin' my blog -- 'cause you just don't get it.

It is never too late -- is it?

I actually meant to publish this report prior to goin' to bed last eve, but as with all my great plans of late, it was lost in the shuffle of the battle between my creativity level and my carpal tunnel syndrome. Yes, for some reason, yesterday, my creativity level went off the charts. The book is now goin' through another metamorphosis. Almost as a major epiphany, my mind started workin' overtime the day before yesterday ... and I ended up writin' like crazy until sometime about 2:45 to 3:00 am yesterday mornin'. Of course, that ruined my productive workin' day yesterday -- so I came home early in the afternoon and took a nap until late yesterday evenin'. I got up, came in here, started starin' where I had left off the night before ... it took a bit before the juices started flowin' again, but it was 1:48 am or so before I shut down my production for the night.

My dang right wrist hurts like crazy, but the metamorphosis is phenomenal. I am afraid that my efforts on this book will be so danged exceptional that I will not be able to duplicate such in the followin' sequels. Now if that ain't a problem to plague a new author's mind. I cannot even seem to find the time to contemplate the status of my navel at this point, so maybe this whole report is pointless. You decide. End of Report.

Taken straight from the deepest recesses

This is where I am right now --- opinion please:

Alura began to form an opinion that RJ might be best described as a ‘visible' thought. He popped into both your consciousness and your visage without warning . . . and, often, was gone - just as quickly. He was there, but you had no actual control over him --- try as you might.

The return of the Prodigal Category

Wow, kangaroos have no belly buttons.

Female marsupials have no placenta:
Therefore, no umbilical cord; therefore, no "belly button."

So, really, tell me, which would you rather see on a nightly basis, some stupid kangaroo picture or some insightful introspective look at my day? I am waitin', as is the navel, who had indicated that he will not reveal his location until the situation is fully known. That navel is a good soldier, you have to give him that. Navel, soldier, hmmm, somehow that seems odd. I need to sit here and stare off into space at no certain thing in particular and mull that over. Well, while I do that, let's end tonight's inanity, what do ya say? End of report.

I find I ain't so completely powerless

Well, there may be a silver linin' in this Puritan Gestapo* scenario situation, after all. After the proverbial shoe fell Friday, after the initial shock and the scramble to get the offendin' blog hidden as fast as I could and spendin' almost all night writin' and editin' that page that is there to greet anyone sent there by my enemies and such, I have been down and have been runnin' here and there tryin' to marshal all of my supporters to repair as much of the damage as I could. Well, yesterday, someone reminded me that the historical and legendary lawyer from the area durin' the moonshine days whose acts and life I admired so much was his own man also, so who cares if some people did not like what I had to say or the words I used. That made me feel very much better. Then today, I was told to call another person, one of the most prominent people in town, the Sunday School teacher of almost all the major figures around that go to the Methodist Church, because he wanted to talk to me. Thankfully, I already got the lead that he was on my side in the ordeal. If he had not been on my side, I probably had very little chance of winnin'. I ain't gonna quit no matter what. I got nuthin' to lose except the election, and it ain't gonna be over for me until the votes are counted. Over the last few days, I have found that I do still have a few good supporters here and there Well, I call the guy and the very first thing he tells me is to tell this fellow who asked me to withdraw from the race to kiss my ass** He said he did not think it was all the smart of me to publicly use some of the words I have been accused of usin', but he finds he uses them himself on occasion and if the person who wanted me to withdraw for usin' such words thought he was in charge of the morals of Republicans, he should be runnin' for some national office or somethin'. He also told me to tell the guy that if he heard anythin' about him spreadin' stuff around about me, that he would not be the head of anythin' in the area for very long. Ya see, the guy was probably the first person in the area to openly confess to bein' a Republican and his currently ailin' wife was the area Republican chairperson for years and years. Being the Sunday School teacher for the town's Methodist Church and bein' the foremost Republican in town, he possesses a lot of persuasion. I am feelin' much better now, I tell ya -- very much better. End of report.

*I saw there was one visitor from a local ISP already: itexas.net Mar 23 2004 7:35:13 am.

**His words, exactly.

Whether ya wanted it or not

OK, I been workin' furiously to rid all my old posts of anythin' that might give the Puritan Gestapos any way to find me through any search engines. My town is now called notCrawford and my county is now called notClark and of course, I am notGeorge from now on. I am pretty close to November 2003 in changin' the author on all the prior posts. I guess I will no longer be able to tell ya'll how much ya'll would enjoy visitin' my hometown now, but of course, what with it bein' filled with Puritan Gestapos, who would want to come here anyway, right? Anyway, I have been roundin' up my good supporters and lettin' them know my enemies are spreadin' those nasty rumors about me, and askin' them to do their best to dispel any belief in them as possible. Still, my hopes are dampened more than I wished, but as I said a long time ago, we will wait and count the chickens after they hatch. I already had a contingency plan if I did not have enough to start the chicken ranch. If'n ya don't have any idea what in the heck I am talkin' 'bout, blame them Puritan Gestapos for forcin' me to talk in circles and tryin' to make ya read between the lines. Don't ya just hate censorship. I used to be so proud of my community, and now I wonder why the heck I was so proud of it. Just because one petty little spiteful man who had no idea who I am or what I stand for but just because he did not like the language I used from time to time on my blog, or maybe a couple of the subjects I blogged about, or somethin', as he was really not all that clear about what problem he really had with my blog, I just cannot think of any way to tell ya'll how disappointed I feel about the situation.

Anyway, I am glad to have gotten the move done. I feel better. I am not me any longer, just some guy who hides behind a false name so no one can take his words, twist them around, and then throw them back in his face in a personal attack. It bothers me that life has to be this way, but that is the way of the world, I guess. I had a friend tell me that deep thinkers never win elections because people are afraid of change. They just want things to go the same way they have been going forever and ever. I suppose that is right. If ya think on a different level than everyone else, then everyone hates ya and looks for anythin' they can to bring you down to their level. Sorry, ya fuckin' * Puritan Gestapos -- I ain't playin' your childish games. I don't have to, ya see, 'cause I know what is goin' on in your minds. I have that sense, ya know. Muhahahahaha!

I got a navel, I can gaze at it at my leisure. It is mine, and it ain't worryin' a bit about the future, 'cause no matter what, it knows its has a place there. End of report.

*I just had to do that 'cause I know how much it would piss them off.

Today was not a day I would like to ever repeat

I am sorry that I have not posted with my regular fervor and you can expect that such may go on for a few days. It seems the predicament that I was hopin' to avoid by havin' moved my blog off of my tiglaw server to munu caught up with me today. If you are interested in the back story, go to the prior location. I am thoroughly drained for the time bein' and no sure when I will recover. I suspect I shall be workin' diligently to protect myself from assault whether from the front, the flanks or from the back while I am asleep. End of report.

What is goin' on here?

Well, I have noticed that a lot of look-sees without much activity has been goin' on today. I did not post much and probably won't do so much until the move is over. After all, I have already done an export of my posts on this server a day or so ago, and so anythin' posted afterward, I will have to transfer by hand.

I am complete worn out. I am so glad tomorrow is Friday, and thanks partly to what occurred today, tomorrow is gonna be a pretty easy day. I had two different guys that were supposed to have hearin's on their criminal cases, but the DA had them brought down today. I guess when I told him that one had accepted the plea bargain, so that we were not havin' to go to trial on such case on March 29 and that I would be in the other court this mornin', he decided to save me a bit of gas. So after I took care of passin' on 4 client's pre-trials, I went across the floor and plead the other two out, and as such, there was no necessity to go there tomorrow to plead one of them and attempt to get the other one's bond lowered. Of course, as with all great things that come along, there was a mistake made on one of the client's sheets with their probation conditions, where the probation officer put the wrong offense on it, we are gonna have to plead him again. Thankfully, there was still a hold on him for somethin' else, so he is still sittin' in jail awaitin' to be transported to take care of the other matter. If it had been the other client, we might have had a hard time gettin' him back in court, as I understood he made it out of jail and was home before I got back to my office and called his mother to tell her to expect him to call her to let her know to come pick him up from jail. The one whose plea has to be done all over will be brought back down early Monday mornin'. That is almost as bad, though, as anythin' else I could think of that could have happened. I hate havin' to be in court in the neighborin' town before 9:00 as it means I have to get up bright and early and get the fork out of the house instead of bein' able to come in here and check my email, see how many visitors I got overnight, as well to see if anyone commented and crud like that. Havin' to get up that damn early on Monday mornin' sucks like crud. Of course, I would have had to go through the same thing the next Monday if he had not decided to take that plea bargain, and I would have also had to be ready to start a long nasty trial. I guess I ought not bitch too much, huh?

Well, as usual, however, after a really long day, and especially a really long day followin' right after another really long day, I am about dead on my feet. No sleepwalkiin' tonight, I am sure, even if I do still feel like a zombie. I am lookin' down at my navel right now and will be really glad to tell all ya'll that it is pink and right in the middle of my plump belly as expected. No zombie belly button here. My head and feet are the biggest problems ... as well as my hand ...which decided to hurt like Hell™ again tonight. I might as well tell ya'll: Two months, two weeks, three days, 22 hours, 6 minutes and 56 seconds has elapsed since I last took a puff off of a nasty cigarette and that now means 2727 cigarettes not smoked, allowin' me to save $545.45 in cash as well as possibly extendin' my life an additional 1 week, 2 days, 11 hours, 15 minutes. Additionally, I had a bacon, egg and cheese breakfast burrito from Sonic® and a chicken-fried steak smothered in cream gravy, with green beans, fried squash and mashed taters ... talked the gal into lettin' me have the jello and pineapple salad which was a vegetable choice as my dessert instead of whatever type of puddin' filled with fruit cocktail that was supposed to be the dessert. I also ate the roll, but was too stuffed to eat the cornbread. I ate two of those slim pepperoni sticks on my way home after work. I have had 128 ounces or so of Dr. Pepper®. My secretary today mentioned how she had been pleased to see my comin' in eatin' somethin' for breakfast here lately, as she was really worried I was not gettin' enough to eat. I think my plump belly is evidence that I got a bit of stored fat to use, just in case I ain't quite gettin' all the calories I need. Now how many of ya'll were able to stay around for all of that? If ya did, I am really proud to know you actually care. ;) End of report ... finally.

The Night of the Livin' Dead*

Ya know, there are times when ya get off work so worn out that you mindless stumble homeward without a conscious thought in your head or any remembrance of how you got there once you arrive. But then you seem to liven up just as you hit the door, you change clothes, splash on some cologne and go out hobnobbin' with your peers at some local gin joint until such point as you blindly stumble home without a conscious thought in your head or any remembrance of how you actually got home when you wake up in the middle of the night passed out in a pool of your own vomit.

Of course, then you reach middle age where you go through step one of the foregoin' scenario, but you don't enliven when you hit your front door. You often find your self pickin' yourself up off the floor in the middle of the night layin' in a pool of your own drool. My forkin' feet hurt. Hard marble courthouse floors and hard concrete jail floors are not soft on the tootsies for some reason. Also, my eyes are droopy, or maybe drippy even,** it is hard to tell lookin' at them from the inside, ya know. I would love to stay up and tell ya all about how fresh and alert my navel is and maybe about how attention starved my penis continues to be,*** but I feel my King sized, not Cal King sized, bed with the non-fittin' fitted sheets atopped with that double layer of goose down that is soon losin' its value as the days grow warmer and soon the nights will follow. But alas, partin' is such sweet sorrow, or maybe ya'll are forkin' glad that I am gonna shut up for awhile. Heck, what do I know? I am just the night watchman.**** End of report.

*With my sincerest apologies to and greatest admiration for George Romero, who made the movie I dreamed of makin' while I was too young to make it and too stupid to know I wanted to make it.*****

**Heavens to Murgatroid! Exit stage left!

***Great George, let's don't go there tonight, please!

****I really don't have any idea about what that is all about ... it just popped out and I didn't have the heart to delete it. ttffn™

*****I am havin' a very hard time with this link ... can someone give me a hand with it?

Does any out there serve just desserts?

Well, regrettably it is time to do what I naturally feel like doin' at this time of the evenin'. No Denita, it ain't what you are thinkin'. What is on my mind is my need to whine, or whinge, as they say down under, about why no one appreciates my great talent. I mean I worked for over two hours on this post alone. I spent another 30 minutes writin' and rewritin' this post just to get ya'll to look at some ridiculous picture. I thought this post was among one of the funniest posts ever. And lastly, this was a quote worthy remark. Ya know, I ain't all that happy 'bout havin' to toot my own horn, but I sure as fork don't see any of ya'll tootin' it for me. Oh, let me take that back. John does link to me quite often. I know I have a few really fine and steady readers, as well, in Denita, Susie, and Tink, just to name a few. I got a lot of comments on the new look from almost all the bloggers I read regularly, and that felt fabulous to get such a wonderous round of applause for my whole weekend's worth of work. As a quick aside, I noticed some of the graphics were not displayin' correctly this mornin' and the background colors were set such that some of the text was unreadable, so I took pains this evenin' to change all the backgrounds to simulate the colors of the graphics.

Lament, lament, lament, but I do seem to spend a large amount of my time bloggin' and I put a lot of effort into attemptin' to make my crud exceptionally enjoyable to read. I suppose I should be happy that I do have a small followin', but I am an attention junkie. I need more and more adorin' fans fawnin' at my every update, rushin' in to see what new and novel thought has popped into my head, what witty inane remark I have regardin' the latest story or meme, or my wizened insight into personal growth. It is the cure for my loneliness, the thought that my life means somethin' to all the nameless faceless people on the other end of the thin electronic tether that connects me to that big world out there. Is anyone listenin'?

Ya know, there has been a plethora of first year blogiversaries here of late and mine is comin' up really soon. My ascension up the ladder, however, does not appear to have proceeded at the anticipated rate. Have I been hampered by my lack of breasts? Does my breath stink? What is it? Is my crud truly not as funny as I think it is?

Oh crud, I was lookin' deep into my navel this evenin', huh? I ain't done lookin', though, 'cause if I stopped now, I would be found wantin' . . . wantin' to find a better use for my time, some way to accomplish efforts that people actually appreciate, 'cause deep down inside, I need to feel appreciated. I need to feel loved. I know that is a lot to ask, but is it too much? End of report.

The end of a long day

Wow, I was fallin' asleep watchin' the movie and now I am too tired to think of anythin' to entertain ya'll. My navel is fine, and the chili is not botherin' me right now. Let us wait until 3:00 or 4:00 a.m.for the final story on the chili, though. I am chain yawnin' and that is a good sign that it is time for me to hit the bed with my head. I will be headin' off to the neighborin' town for court in the mornin' so if ya'll don't hear from me for awhile, don't fret it. I shall return at sometime, I suppose.

Oh, I di remember what it was that I wanted to say. I mean I feel all giddy like a little kid at the end of the year. Ya know what I mean, hopin' like crazy that you are the first to say it. Well, here is hopin' I am the first to tell ya to Beware of the Ides of March. It don't 'zactly have that feel like tellin' someone see ya next year on the eve of the New Year, but it is close. Et tu? Good night ya'l. End of report.

Help! I am stuck in this damn chair!

Well, not really, but I have been sittin' here all day since about 7:00 this mornin'. I suppose I don't have to tell ya what I have been doin', though I see there was not that many people comin' around so maybe some of ya'll will be surprised to see my new template and .css file. I was lookin' at OTB yesterday, and it is about the best lookin' 3 column blog I have seen, so I jumped up this mornin', clicked on such blog, opened the HTML source and saved it in a file. Then I downloaded the .css file and saved it, then I started tweakin' stuff until I finally got close to what I wanted. So, any comments. I am not completely done, I am sure. I want to look at it a bit before goin' any further. I would also like to hear from some of ya'll so as to see if anyone is havin' any problems and such. I am pretty sure there will be some problems if you are usin' 800x600 resolutions or 640x480, but if you are usin' those resolutions, I am sure you won't be havin' any more problems that you were havin' with the prior look.

Anyway, my neck is startin' to hurt like Hell, so I am gonna get the fork out of this chair for awhile. I am sorry I didn't not blog any today, but it is Saturday and I was pretty sure it was gonna be slow as any other Saturday. If I was wrong -- oh well. Thanks Denita and Susie for leavin' me a couple of comments, but for your information, there was nothin' goin' on dealin' with what one of ya'll was thinkin' 'bout when you read last night's Nightly Navel Gazin' Report™. I am sorry about messin' up your breakfast. My navel is a bit worried about the growlin' goin' on just below it. I suppose I might need to go eat a bite. I think I ate earlier, but then again, it might have been yesterday. ttffn. End of report.

A jealous neighbor rears its head and asks to be heard

It was a wet and dreary day today and that, coincidin' with the final culmination of a week's worth of work, kept my brain fogged for the better part of it. Ya'll didn't take any pity on me, either. I let down on the bloggin' effort just a whit, and ya'll stayed away in droves. I am beginnin' to wonder if my flagrant use of the forkin' "F" word is offendin' so many of my readers that I need to delete this blog and start anew with a G ratin' or if'n ya'll are just gettin' bored with my navel. I am actually thinkin' it likely has a lot less to do with ya'll not likin' my navel that it does about my lackin' boobs. I think I have visited the theory 'bout bloggers that do have boobs seem to draw much more attention that bloggers without boobs, for the most part. I ain't changed my mind, but then, I find that, on occasion, I too skip along my blogroll skippin' over some of the guys to get to the gals. It's all my navel's fault though, 'cause my navel craves female attention. I apprears that my naked navel is of the opinion that soft female hands caress much more smoothly than my coarse male hands. I mean, it ain't like I got rough callouses or such, as I mainly use my hands to keyboard and lift a cup of Dr. Pepper to my mouth. It ain't like I am diggin' ditches or ejaculatin' elephants* or some other really manly activity, but I also don't slather lotion on them so as to give them that silky soft texture that drives my navel wild.

Anyway, my navel has intimated to me that I should ask that some of ya'll gals leave some little notes tellin' it just how ya feel about it. It does not have high navel esteem, it seems, and requires a bit of affirmation that it might not always be stuck with my mostly accidental man mitt caresses as its sole form of affection. My penis has also asked me to pass along a couple of requests, but I ain't goin' there -- at least not this evenin'. I mean, here I am thinkin' 'bout curtailin' the flagrant use of the word fork and my penis is wantin' me to establish a whole new category entitled Tales of the Enchanted Penis. I have attempted to get it to understand that penile fantasies are a dime a dozen dozen** among bloggers, and as I am a non-conformist by my very nature: if ever'one else is doin' it, then I am avoidin' joinin' in on that activity. My penis then advised me that such attitude probably had a lot to do with why it spent most of its wakin' moments fantasizin' 'bout some excitin' activity instead of bein' actually involved in some excitin' activity. Even as brain fogged as I am this evenin', I can almost see its point. Maybe I will just go to bed and mull that over. Anyone wanna join me? My penis asked me to pose that question. End of report.

*It's a hard job, but I suppose someone has to do it.

**Oh, now that's really gross.

I am gonna take it easy tonight

For some reason, the extra special hectic day where my secretary kept me busy trying to accomplish everything that she felt needed to be accomplished this week that had yet been done because she was out all day Monday, as was I, and then she was out the better part of yesterday, so there was quite a bit of stuff in the do it this week pile that she felt like had to be done today. Actually there was a couple of matters that came in today that had to be accomplished as well. As such, I am exhausted, and although it likely means that no one will visit, no one will comment, and almost for sure that no one will ping me, I am just gonna go home, eat some soup and watch some old movies I found at Walmart today. I have a hard time passin' up four movies for $5.50 on DVD. You would be surprised how many real stinkers I have purchased that way, but every once in awhile, I find one I like. Heck, that sounds about like what I find if I go to the movie house or the video store as well. Mostly all ya get is some trash someone put together on a shoestring or even a big budget in hopes to make some bucks, and very seldom do you find a really well made piece of cinematic art. The Cohen brothers usually get real close and Kevin Smith hardly ever misses. Spielberg has his moments and Lucas has lost touch, it seems. Velociman would be please with this set of four westerns, however, as three of them are featurin' Lee Van Cleef. One of 'em is gonna be a treat for me, as it is also featurin' "screen star Bud Spencer." I thought that was a hoot: screen star Bud Spencer, as if Terence Hill didn't carry his ass through almost every other feature he was involved with. Oh well, at least my navel will be delighted. I seem to give it a lot of attention when I am sittin', watchin' TV. I find myself continually brushin' my hand across my navel. I drop a lot of crud I am munchin' durin' movies and such, and most of it ends up restin' on my belly. I sweep it off from time to time. I often forget to wear a shirt and the navel finds a flurry of activity as things get trapped in there and have to be gingerly* extracted on occasion. Well, ttffn. End of report.

P.S. Someone tell revog that the Nightly Navel Gazin' Report™ was actually on much earlier than usual.

*Mary Annly just doesn't have the right ring to it, does it?

Who ya gonna call? WILL POWER!

Two months, one week, two days, 22 hours, 51 minutes and 21 seconds. 2448 cigarettes not smoked, saving $489.66. Life saved: 1 week, 1 day, 12 hours, 0 minutes. And I just about got this close [

OK, it was all good up to this point

Damn, damn, and double damn. I had just spent the last half hour pennin' the perfect post where I entertained ya'll, thrilled ya with the perfection of my prose and yet chastised ya for not havin' sent a single ping my way for a couple of days as well as pondered why a great day of visitation came to a close like a Wall Street bell had rung at 5:00 p.m. and all blog readin' had come to a halt for the day. Alas, however, such post is no longer with us as the whole system came crashin' down like Wall Street in October of '29. That post jumped out the window and splatted on the electronic sidewalk of wherever the fork good stuff that gets lost when computers don't do what the fork they are supposed to do go. I am forkin' pissed 'bout it, but it is too forkin' late to redo all that, and, upon wakin' tomorrow, such thoughts will have long been relegated to the dust bins of my memory. Alas, it was a gorgeous post, and none of ya'll will ever see it or its ilk again. It was my masterpiece and the cyber dog ate it. End of report. ttffn™

Turnin' in a bit early this eve

Wow, guess attendin' a dead person's party takes a bit more out of ya that I was 'spectin' 'cause I am worn to a frazzle. Despite my best intentions, my mind seems incapable of producin' any image of Renee Zellweger in the nude in my current imagination for my enjoyment. That is a sure sign of impendin' cataclysmic doom on a world-wide scale or, at the very least, personal destruction through a severe affliction of waffle face syndrome.* I am findin' my own yawns to be highly contagious as they are now comin' in giant, eye numbin' waves. If I could get my brain to work, I would attempt to determine what Steve Dallas would do in this predicament, but I can't think. I need sleep. I need lots of sleep. I need to remember where my bed is located. I am not even sure if I am in the right house. It is too quiet. I can't hear any dogs barkin'. Now I am spooked. Oh no! I don't know if Denita got my email with the scan of yesterday's Opus strip attached. Now I won't be able to sleep all night worryin' 'bout that. I guess I will just go lay in bed with my hand on my belly like I do when I have somethin' on my mind that is really plaguin' me. My navel loves the attention. End of report.

*A condition that occurs when you fall asleep sittin' in front of your computer and your head slowly slips down to rest on your keyboard all night.**

**Thanks to Ozguru for pointin' out my havin' omitted such footnote in the comments. I tol' ya'll I was tired. ;)

It only took a week for me to snag an interview

Yep, Leno, Letterman, Regis and whatever bimbo sits across from him, those four gals that sit around the table and bash ever'thin' male and Dr. Phil have all had one of the Oscar winners on their shows while I have been workin' quite diligently to bring one of them here for a bit of in depth analysis. I mean, Leno and Letterman got all the funny quips, Dr. Phil talked to her inner child, Regis and bimbo shared her secret recipes for fruitcake, and those women sittin' 'round that table bashed bashed Hugh Grant with her. However, this is Tiger: Raggin' & Rantin' - Nightly Navel Gazin' Report™ and we ain't interested in any funny quips, childish crud, fruitcakes or Hugh Grant ... wait, are fruitcake and Hugh Grant mutually exclusive or isn't that like two words for the same guy? ... Oh, don't let me get off track here 'cause my guest is growin' impatient and I am growin' weary, very weary. Wrestlin' with dialup has sapped all the strength from me once again. Oh, what the fuck, without further ado and much less babblin' and delay, I bring you the navel of the one and only girl of my dreams . . .

And, I would like to thank Ms. Renee Zellweger for havin' graciously displayed her navel for our viewin' enjoyment and would again like to congratulate her on her Oscar winnin' performance in Cold Mountain and I, for one, would like to welcome her into the co-starrin' role in my life. Hey, would someone in stage production get rid of those ugly green bubbles before this blurb hits prime time? End of report. ttffn™

I went. I saw, I drank, I drank some more, I told some jokes, I came home

Hey, I made it to Luckenbach and back and all in one piece.* I made my detour by Denita and Eric's house where I had a great time and so did they, accordin' to Denita's version. Zane was the little charmer as always and is growin' like a weed. He has the walkin' bit down, though is still not greatly adept at obstacle avoidance. He hits the floor and bounces back up, usually laughin'. I spent the time gettin' the lowdown on how IronBear came to be such an integral part of Who Tends the Fires. We discussed some other bloggers and some of the stuff goin' on in the blogosphere currently, and then they told me and showed me some pictures of their recent trips to Big Bend Nat'l Park and Enchanted Rock. I am familiar with the former and have yet to visit the latter. Zane and I then played a bit at this and that. He liked it when I held him up so he could touch the ceilin' and loved it when I flew him around. He did kiss my knee, or at least that is what Denita said he did. He is a treat to spend time with, especially if you like kids like I do.

I then went to Luckenbach, although I had to hunt for it again. This is the third time I have been there and it is the third time I had difficulty findin' the tiny Texas town. There was some good music and the cold beer was flowin', but not freely, as they were chargin' $3 a bottle for all the popular brands. There was a stage coach bein' pulled around by some really tired lookin' horses, a longhorn with a saddle on his back you could get your picture taken on, a stage where the name acts were playin', and a jam session goin' on behind the bar. I ordered a grilled cheese sandwich with bacon. The cook put mustard on it as I requested, but looked at me as if I was strange. I also got an order of curly fries. The way they make them is like really well done potato chips all stuck together. They tasted good, as did the sandwich. Some dog was sittin' at my feet as I ate, and I did give him a bit of the bacon, when I found a piece that was a bit chewier than I liked. I noticed some guy was tryin' to take a picture and I later approached him about whether he was tryin' to shoot the dog or me or both. He had been tryin' to get the dog, but the pose never was right, and when it finally was, he said the background was not to his likin' as it had appeared like a drainpipe was shoved up the dog's butt. He had never taken the picture.

I went there for this ceremony where they were gonna retire the Texas flag that has been flyin' there for some long period of time in honor of the Texans who fell defendin' the Alamo. I was indeed present for the flag retirement ceremony, where some guy went over to the flag pole and lowered that old tattered flag, removed it from the chain, and replaced it with a new flag. There were no words, no one even called attention to the activity. I later asked one of the other employees what was to become of the old flag. She said she was not sure, but that they might put it in a frame and sell it. They had charged $6.00 because it was supposed to be a special event day. I am wonderin' if that was the entirety of the whole special event. It did not seem to be worth $6.00, but then again they did have some great music and musicians, so I did not necessarily feel cheated. One of the entertainers was Brian Burns, who has recently remade the ol' Hank Snow hit, I've Been Everywhere,** into I've Been Everywhere in Texas and is gettin' a lot of airplay on the station I listen to all the time. I listened as he did a great job singin' a few of his songs and later talked with him a bit, and even got him to sign a dollar bill for me. I drank a few cold beers, walked around and told some jokes, bought some stuff and took some pictures. I will likely post some of the pictures tomorrow, if any of them are good. For some reason, the flash on my little camera did not seem to work. That little camera may be kaput. It is late, and my navel is likely distressed a bit from all of that beer. I really don' t like beer all that much, mainly for the same reason I don't drink carbonated beverages out of cans or bottles, but prefer to drink only fountain drinks. My stomach does not do well with all of that gas. I feel so damn bloated, like I have a giant bubble of CO² in my stomach and wonderin' when it is gonna blow. My feet hurt, my back is achin' a bit and my head is numb. I think a good night's sleep is definitely in order. Hopefully, there will be more to come. End of report.***

*I am supposin' that I am not totally whole as I likely killed a few brain cells. I just hope I did not destroy any of the essential ones.

**Johnny Cash also recorded a version of the original song.

It simply vanished into thin air

It was a most magical experience. My energy level just went from a level of fury to empty in a matter of seconds. I do not know why. Maybe I just expended too much energy typin' comments in everyone else's blogs. Anyway, I did not do well on the Test the Nation exercise tonight. I had just returned from runnin' an errand to get a bag of dog food, and went by and got that catfish dinner and brought it home and was just gonna sit in front of the tube and relax while I ate that catfish. The TV happened to be tuned to Fox and that program was just beginnin'. I thought it was a silly exercise, but then thought, what the hell, it ain't like I got anythin' better to do just as the test was fixin' to start. I ran in here and typed in testonfox.com to get to the site to take the test online and live with the rest of the country. Lo and behold, I didn't have the right Shockwave plugin installed. So, I thought, OK, let me download the new plugin and I can still likely do alright. Yeah, ever'one else must have been hooked up online takin' that stupid test, 'cause my connect was crud and kept gettin' crudpier. So, I didn't take part. I did, however, splash a little catsup (or ketchup for those of ya'll that prefer that spellin') onto or into my navel. If I had a cat, I guess I could have let my cat lick the catsup out of my navel. I don't suppose that would be classified as an act of bestiality, would it? Just that ponderance ought to be worth a couple of Google hits. ;)

I am tired beyond description and I am gonna go to bed. Tomorrow is Saturday. I might or might now blog 'cause you might or might not read. If history is any indicator, might not seems to be a surer bet than might when it comes to your part. Besides, I still might go to Luckenbach. Let's all go back to Luckenbach, Texas ... with Wille and Waylon's memory and the boys. I might toss back a cold one of two in memory of Waylon and those valiant defenders of the Alamo. Tomorrow is the anniversary of the fall of the Alamo. Remember the Alamo. Rent the John Wayne version. End of report.

Not much more to say this day

What a very long, very tirin' and very strange day. I am so glad it is over and ready to get to bed. I am so drained, like all the energy has been sucked from my body by some energy sappin' mosquito. I do feel this strange bump on my head, hidden within my hairline. As they say, anythin' is possible. I suspect, though, that some giant energy sappin' mosquito havin' come and sucked all the energy outta my head without me havin' heard the buzzin' of its flyin' is highly improbable. The mere thought of such occurrence is a tad bit inane, huh? But ain't that the central theme of my bloggin' efforts, delvin' deep into the realm of the inane? Or does this blog have a theme? Does it have a purpose? Does it matter? Do you care?

I got nuthin' folks, seriously. The navel seems to be the only part of me that is perky and full of life. I would let it take over, but it is illiterate and can't read or write. That does mean that ya'll are stuck with me and I got nuthin'. No sense draggin' this out, then, is there? I agree. End of report.

Two months, three days, 23 hours, 16 minutes and 54 seconds. 2238 cigarettes not smoked, saving $447.79. Life saved: 1 week, 18 hours, 30 minutes.

Graspin' for straws in the midst of a whirlpool

Just as I was gettin' ready to post my report last eve, I found that my thin tether to the world had become disengaged. In other words, the phone lines were dead. Such seems to be the culmination of an otherwise really crudpy day, as I had experienced a couple of times earlier when I was totally unable to connect to my own damn hostin' server as well. I was unsure if there were doin' some maintenance on my server, if there was some break in the backbone between here and there, or if it was due to some maintenance they were doin' at the DNS pointin' service, who had actually sent me notice of that there was somethin' planned there that might be interruptin' their mail service. But, such problems were intermittent and I could work around these minor difficulties. However, when you are on dialup and the phone lines go completely dead: "Sorry Bud, Game Over." As I has already had a pretty crudpy day, I just decided to give it up. I still had a couple of movies I rented that are due back on Friday, so I decided to go watch one of those: Signs.

This Mel Gibson fiasco turned out to be a really horribly written combination of Close Encounters of the Third Kind/Independence Day/Night of the Living Dead ... but thankfully had enough pretty fine actin' here and there plus enough novelty to keep me interested. I only intermittently found myself gazin' at my navel and shakin' my head in disbelief. My only real complaint is that, at the end, I felt really let down -- like I had just diligently watched a fairly well done vehicle that went nowhere and had no clear message. It was a fittin' end to the pile of crud which had been my long and arduous day. I went to bed feelin' exhausted and flat. I forgot all about comin' in and postin' this report. Well, here it is, later than usual. End of report.

What is green and not really all that pleasant to be around?

OK, so some of ya'll think belly button talk is borin'? Well maybe you ought to go over to where Pat works and sit around discussin' belly buttons and just see where the conversation takes ya. Needless to say, this does go to prove that this ain't the only place where someone actually blogs about belly buttons, is it? And, as you likely know, if you regularly read my Nightly Navel Gazin' Reports™, I try to subdue as much really nasty crud as possible. I guess a bunch of women around a table are not as worried about doin' so, huh? But seriously, when have you ever seen me introduce anythin' about "a baby who had lovely emerald green poop" into any of my Nightly Navel Gazin' Reports™? I have some standards, you know? I mean, there are some subjects that I would not touch with a 10 foot pole, and emerald green baby poop is probably somethin' I would be glad to have a 10 foot pole handy just in case I was required to touch such. Well, actually, I am very baby friendly, so I would actually not be all that worried about it, as long as I could find that bag of latex gloves I bought at the dollar store. I suppose someone would have to clean the baby's butt, and if the baby was not big enough to do it itself, I suppose someone else would have to jump in to do so. Ya just can't let a baby run around in a diaper filled with emerald green baby crud, right? Someone has to change that diaper. It surely would not be my first time to change a baby's diaper and I likely would have already had a sniff or two of how bad that crud in the diaper smelled ... I mean, experience has shown me that although the diaper might do a good job of containin' the crud on most occasions, it does not do that great of a job containin' the smell of the crud in the diaper all that well. OK, vinyl gloves on and a clothespin on my nose and here we go. Off with that nasty diaper, roll it up and put it in a bio-hazard bag, take a handful of Handy-Wipes and wipe as much of that emerald green baby shit off that soft baby's butt as possible, and then put those used Handy-Wipes in that bio-hazard bag, grab another handful of Handy-Wipes and give that soft baby's butt another round of wipin', put those Handy-Wipes in that bio-hazard bag, and continue that over and over until that soft baby's butt is clear of any sign of emerald green shit. Sprinkle on some baby powder and apply a clean fresh diaper. Remove clothespin, put in bio-hazard bag, remove latex gloves, place in bio-hazard bag, securely close bio-hazard bag. Dispose of bio-hazard bag. Fall to knees and thank Deity that baby did not piss in your eye durin' diaper change and pray mother gets home before baby has to crud again.

Yes, and I still want one of my own. Cryin', crud, slobber and spit up, none of it scares me. It doesn't last forever, and you miss it when it is gone. Where the Hell are you, mother of my children? Just think of all the fun we are missin' because we ain't found one another.

I wanted to share somethin' a bit personal here, but I am a bit too shy to reveal such. Maybe when we get to know one another a bit better, I can tell ya 'bout it. I just ain't too sure I feel comfortable talkin' 'bout certain things, ya know? My own navel is doin' fabulous and has been no where near any emerald green baby shit today. It was in close proximity to a baby for a short while as my secretary's baby was in the office for a bit today. Thankfully, I was not left alone with Kirstie this round.

My eyes are droopy, and I have to go lose a trial tomorrow. My client is guilty, I know he is guilty, but he does not want to plead guilty because he neither wants to be on probation or wants to go to jail. I don't really blame him, because those are some pretty crudpy choices, but he was drunk and had a wreck and they found a bag of marijuana in his pocket at the hospital. I will just give him adequate assistance of counsel.

Well, I do have to be there early, so I think I have better drag my navel to bed and dream of emerald green baby shit or somethin'. End of report. ttffn

It hurts all the way to the very core

I am not sure why, likely some gastric distress due to my dietary intake durin' the day, but I have this pain deep in my gut. Let me see -- I started off the day with another bacon, egg and cheese Breakfast Burrito from Sonic along with that regular order of Tots, then later had a hot link in a hot dog bun with just a couple of lines of mustard on it and a bag of pig skins, but I started chokin' while eatin' the pig skins, so ate a couple of the pepperoni Slim Jim sticks to assist me in gettin' whatever was stickin' in my throat to go down, as well as downin' almost 32 ozs. of Dr. Pepper, after refillin' my cup for the second time today, the first time bein' right before I headed to Sonic for breakfast. I refilled the cup again, headed back to work, and then after work, went back to refill the cup again and ate a Grab Bag of Cheetohs and then a small bag of Pretzels but for some reason, I was not hungry enough to finish the pretzels. I gave the rest to my dogs and came in and sat here for most of the evenin' doin' this and that, mostly tryin' to figure out how to get into my Pay Pal account so I could assist Serenity a bit with her situation, while chattin' with Tink and SilverBlue on AOL IM and then some doctor in China somehow found me on ICQ even though I was supposedly invisible, and we chatted for awhile. I also had some other person named Helen who tried to connect with me on ICQ, but I think I pissed her off when I asked her for the reason she contacted me. The doctor kinda got thrown off by that question also. However, as so many different people of which I have no idea who the fork they are contact me on ICQ, AOL IM, Yahoo Messenger and MS Messenger all the time, I seem to find myself askin' that question very often. I do find, more often than not, that it does seem to piss people off to have to explain why the fork they were contactin' me without my askin' them to do so, and some just piss off and leave me alone. Some actually say they saw my profile here and there and were interested in learnin' more about me. I seem to be very popular with young women in eastern Europe and in the Philippines, and I used to get a lot contactin' me from Nigeria. I am pretty sure I will never hook up with anyone from any other country other than maybe Mexico, only because it is so close, or maybe Canada, because actually it is pretty close too? I myself might emigrate to Australia or New Zealand if given the opportunity. I am pretty sure I would never settle down with anyone from Nigeria, first of all because I do not find most black women all that attractive. It has much less to do with skin color than because they have big asses, fat lips and their hair feels funny. I especially suspect the very core of Nigerian culture. I have actually had long online communication relationships with a couple of Filipino gals, and even have a cousin who married one. I now truly understand why so many young Filipino gals seek husbands from other countries. They live in a very strict Catholic culture where divorce is unheard of and if you are an unmarried female older than in your early 20s, you are a spinster. No one in the Philippines will marry you. The Eastern European girls are the ones I suspect of wanting to marry more for the sole purpose of gettin' into the United States, but, as a group, they are the most attractive younger gals that are looking for older, more financially stable husbands. I could actuallly see myself settling down with one of those young ladies, since with my particular problem, marrying a 25 year old eastern European gal might actually be the answer to my dilemma. Surprisingly, I actually think Tatiana is a very lovely name.

Wow, see how circular my thinkin' goes: I go from describin' what I had to eat today to a discussion of the types of females one tends to meet online. Still, I do have that pain deep in my gut. I actually think it is just gas, though, and that is will pass. As I am alone, it really does not matter how it does so or whether there is any resultant noise of any kind. There probably will be some resultant noise, though. That is actually one of the pleasures one experiences from dealin' with the pressure from gas buildin' up in your gastric system. When it finally gets to the blowin' point where it passes, one can, with practice, produce some excellent sounds. TMI? TFB!*

I also seem to be havin' a zit emerge right where my left cheek bone juts forward. I suspect that is a result of all the bacon and pepperoni Slim Jim sticks I have been eatin' here lately. Try as I might, I seem to be eatin' a tad more since I quit smokin'. I am of the opinion that cigarettes contain an appetite suppressant, as ever since I stopped smokin', I have felt hungry. I don't seem to be gainin' all that much weight, however. I suspect this is probably because I don't have any food in the house and am generally too lazy to go out and get anythin', except when I have to go to the store to refill my Dr. Pepper cup. Then I usually eat a bag of pork skins and maybe a few sticks of pepperoni Slim Jims.

I wonder why I am tellin' ya'll all of this? Now I have a headache. Now I need a couple of Pepcid Completes. Now I am feelin' like it is time to go to bed. OK, so here is the plan: I will down a handful of analgesics, followed by a fistful of Pepcid Completes, immerse myself in a tub of hot water and sit in it until my skin has turned a very rosy pink color, then I will dry off and jump under a double layer of goose down comforters in a large king sized bed all by myself and lay there feelin' sorry for myself until I fall asleep. Doesn't that sound like a joyous time for all involved? fork it! It sounds like standard fare for this mundane life of mine ... but guess what? I have grown so damn accustomed to it that if any real excitement came along, it would probably shock me to the point where I would succumb to a heart attack or somethin'. There are worse things than boredom, ya see? End of report.

*Too forkin' Bad!

Strange days are made like this

OK, so what a strange day. Well, I guess it was like any other February 29th, huh? Or, at least, as far as I can remember. As I stated earlier, in almost a half decade worth of life, I have only seen a dozen February 29ths, and they come by so seldom, I cannot remember from one to the next what happens and what to expect. I know bloggin' was weird. I did not get that many visitors today, and, except for Denita, no one commented at all. Still, Denita is a good friend of mine, so it was nice to visit with her, even if it was just done in the comments. I do hope she finds a source to so as to read Opus. I do suppose I could scan it each week, but I think I am runnin' out of server space, so I am tryin' to save as much as possible.

Well, today was a very nice day. After the strong wind and the hard rain that fell this mornin', the wind died down, the clouds broke up and the sun came out. It was sunny and warm all afternoon. I did go out and play with the dogs for awhile, but mostly I just spent the day watchin' some movies. Let me see, I saw Pollock, about Jackson Pollock, Ali, about Muhammad Ali, and Collateral Damage, an action movie starrin' the Governor of California. I did not watch the Oscars at all. I got the news about who was winnin' what by checkin' imdb.com ever' once in awhile. You can check it now if you wanna see a list of all the awards and who won. Me, I am gonna go to bed.

The navel seems to be doin' fine. It seems that I did so little today, the navel was not stressed at all. As far as what I had to eat today, let's see. I ate a Breakfast Burrito from Sonic, with bacon, eggs and cheese rolled up in a flour tortilla with a small order of Tater Tots. I ate a Grab Bag of Fried Pig Skins and 4 sticks of pepperoni sticks, like Slim Jims, drank 3 refills of Dr. Pepper in my 32 oz. cup and ate a whole sleeve of saltine crackers. I have eaten 4 tablets of Pepcid Complete, so I suppose that is enough gastric damage I can do to the inside of my belly button, and yet the outside shows no damage at all. I take that as a good sign. I suspect when I see the acid inside my stomach burnin' through to the outside, it will be likely too late to complain about it. Anyway, I guess I will go ahead and close this and take my tired ass to bed. It ain't like anyone is gonna read this anyway, right? End of report.

The long and windin' day

OK, after the impromptu nap I spoke of earlier, I got up and got ready to go out and join in on a couple of events ... one bein' the Lincoln/Reagan Dinner put on by the area Republican Club and then hopefully would be able to run by one of the local restaurants to catch the end of Johnny Hanna's Show where a friend of mine was gonna be, as she is such a big Elvis fan and Johnny Hanna is one of the oldest Elvis impersonators and was also one of Elvis' friends. However, as Congressman Joe Barton was tellin' us stories about President Reagan, I could find no way to slip out without bein' seen so I missed the Elvis event. Thankfully, however, I did get there before the performer, my friend, and all of her friends had left, so actually, I only missed the show. It is not like I am a big Elvis fan, and to tell ya the truth, the guy looked kinda like I expect Elvis himself would look if he was still around, like an old, fat guy with long sideburns. Thank ya, thank ya very much. I spent just enough time there to charm the ladies before headin' over to a house party one of my supporters was havin' after the political dinner.

It was just a small party. I drank a Coke, as they didn't have any Dr. Pepper,* while everyone else was drinkin' wine or beer. I nibbled on some nuts, olives and such, but I was beginnin' to feel a bit bloated from the second helpin' of salad I ate at the political dinner, so I excused myself, ran by the store to refill my cup with the real stuff and here I am tellin' ya'll about it all ... like anyone is likely to read this anyway. Still, I have done my duty today to my party and political supporters, to my Elvis lovin' friend and her friends, and to all my fans out there in the blogosphere. So I guess I can drag my tired ass off to bed with a clear conscience. I am not sure how well you will sleep, though, because you didn't read this -- I know that because my counter hasn't moved and you didn't comment. Oh well, I ain't gonna lose any sleep over your failures, so don't fret it. I still love ya! No, really, I do. Who? YOU! Dammit, pay attention, OK?

My navel is in a bit of distress. My belly is gurglin' as I must have imbibed a little too heavily mostly on various greens covered with Italian dressin' and some peach cobbler. I should not have had that second helpin' of salad, but I thought I was doin' so well by not havin' seconds of the peach cobbler. I did pass on the chicken spaghetti, primarily because I hate chicken spaghetti, but also because it was the Lincoln/Reagan day dinner and I was almost sure that Lincoln never ate chicken spaghetti** and was pretty sure Reagan hadn't ever dined on it either. I am thinkin' I will end my evenin' by chewin' a couple of Pepcid Complete tablets before goin' to bed. I think I will try to read a couple more pages in that book I began yesterday and suspect that I should be asleep very soon. More about my mundane life to come in tomorrow, I believe, unless, of course, I die in my sleep. In that case, I likely won't be continuin' this blog. End of report.

*I did have almost a full cup of Dr. Pepper in the car.

**I am pretty sure that Lincoln had dined on possum and squirrel.

Another Friday night and I ain't got nuthin' to do worth really doin'

Well, I just finished another long week of work and the weekend has arrived. By the old clock on the wall, the time now is just shy of 7:00 pm. Millions of Texans havin' run through the drive thru window at the bank to cash their paycheck and are home pullin' on their tightest jeans, eager to go fill their bellies full of frosty beer and scoot a few boots across a sawdust covered floor. Others are discussin' with their friends and sweeties what movie they are all gonna go see tonight. Some are just gonna snuggle on the couch and catch some reruns on the tube. I ain't into the drinkin' and dancin' scene any longer, even though my butt does still look good in a pair of tight fittin' jeans ... I cannot think of a single movie I wanna go see or even rent. I ain't even interested in seein' what is on the TV. I fuckin' hate bein' alone ... seriously. But even more than that, I hate playin' games with women my age who think I am cute and crud when women my age have no way of ever givin' me what I want. I have tried it, and no matter how often you attempt to tell some gal that you ain't interested in anythin' long term because they can never offer you that one thing that will make you happy, they somehow thing they can change your mind. I wanna share somethin' with all of you, men and women alike that I have learned in my almost half century of life. You cannot change other people ... period. There ain't no sense in tryin' because it ain't happenin'. People do change, but you don't change them, they change themselves. Now, sure some change themselves to please others, but most change themselves to please themselves, and if that somehow ends up pleasin' others, so be it.

I have made up my mind that I am not gonna make a lifetime commitment to any person that cannot bear our children. Fuck it that I am almost fifty years old. Fuck it that I lost a young wife and was distraught and depressed for a number of years. I fuckin' have everythin' to offer that men half my age have to offer and more: financial stability, maturity, and patience. I just guess it is hard to find someone as old as your dad to be physically attractive. I know I sure am not all that attracted to women my mother's age. Maybe my life ended a decade ago when my wife died, or maybe I am just an idiot to think that I should have someone to carry my genes into the future. Fuck it. Hot bath and bed, that sounds like a good plan. Hell, I got a damn library behind me, maybe I will look for a book to read. Yeah, I might as well do that 'cause I sure as fuck ain't got nuthin' better to do. I can lay in bed and read that book, rest it on my navel. It's funny how navels really do make good places to rest books, huh? I learned that many many years ago when I was a small child. My mom always said she always felt strange when she would send us kids up to our rooms for bein' too rambunctious or somethin' 'cause when she would look in on us, I was usually just layin' there readin' a book, not at all bothered by it. She said she never felt like I was punished at all. I, of course, knew that the usual reason we were sent to our rooms was so that she could find a few quiet moments to read whatever book she was readin' at the time.

Ain't it funny how we really do change over time? From my earliest memories, I was always an avid reader, and yet since law school, I seldom ever read for pleasure anymore. Is it because I read constantly as a part of my profession, that readin' has now truncated itself into my psyche as a chore?

Of course, speakin' of books, I still got three in the works that I have done nuthin' to in months. Why is that? What is it that makes my interests ebb and flo? I do so wonder about that? I know that most of our mental processin' is highly dependent upon chemicals, and I wonder about the chemical balances in my brain from time to time. Just what is my potassium level? Is my sodium level in balance? Is my liver adequately removin' ammonia from my blood stream? Did I destroy too many brain cells binge drinkin' in my twenties? What are the lead levels in my body? How about mercury? Asbestos? Teflon? Or is it just simple depression that drives my lack of interest in attainin' any wealth, fame, or recognition? Or is it that I find there are so few who are actually all that interested in what I write here on a daily basis, that I have developed the impression that my writin' is much less entertainin' than I previously thought, that my ideas are less ingenious than I believed, and that I am not the next J.K. Rowling. Fuck it. There really ain't no fuckin' sense of gettin' rich or bein' anyone if ya are just gonna die one day and leave no one behind to appreciate your accomplishments and live off of your estate, huh?

Well, if you got this far, you deserve a prize. Give me some suggetions -- after all, I might be rich some day -- provided that I ever pull my head outta my ass and banish the dark cloud that is hoverin' over my head. Don't hold your breath, however, as that could be highly hazardous to your health. We don't need no fuckin' Surgeon General to spread that news. End of report.

Nope, I was actually on the right track after all

OK, I decided to use a bit of the free time I got by playin' hooky from work after the trial aborted to read a few blogs, slather a few comments here and there and to link to a few of my favs as was my former system prior to the snit. What I find is what kinda set me off on the snit in the first place ... people do not seem to be anymore likely to read or comment if I post more often than they did previously. I have actually found that by postin' less often, I am drawin' about the same number of readers daily, meanin' to me that I likely have about that number of regular readers who really seem to be keen on comin' to read my various diatribes about me and my mundane existence.

Most likely, this phenomenon is due to most such people also tend to read most of the same blogs on a regular basis as I do, so find no need for my pointers to these blogs. No, they want the original content, that stuff that is truly me and about me. They really do come for these Nightly Navel Gazin' Reports™ and who woulda ever thunk that?

Well, I will tell ya'll that my navel is highly pleased to learn that it is such a major star of the blogosphere, and it truly loves all the adoration and attention that ya'll have shown it by your continued readership and ardent commentin'. It may just be that soon I will replace that stupid picture of me in the upper left hand corner with one of my belly button. It seems to be what everyone wants to see and read about, after all. Hey, give the fans what they want, right. Someone said that, who was it? Pete Rose maybe? Or was that Gypsy Rose Lee? Now there was a lady that was not afraid to bare her navel for her adorin' fans. Well, enough inanity ... ya'll go read some of the other crud I wrote today and throw in a pity comment here and there. Send me some hate mail or something. If'n ya read my psychological crud down there, you might find I am a psychotic, neurotic somethin' or other that hates it because he lives alone and might be gettin' drunk and thinkin' about shootin' his dogs* or somethin' right now. Actually, I have no idea what any of that gobblety gook is -- some Freudian slips or shits, I don't know. Fuck this shit, I am goin' to bed. End of report.

*I ain't even thinkin' of shootin' my dogs, people. That is just some crud I said. I love my dogs, even though they are barkin' and barkin' and barkin' and drivin' me crazy right now. I think maybe they are tryin' to tell me that they really really love me and want me to bring them a dog biscuit. ttffn.

Curiouser and curiouser, it seems, me thinks a pattern is formed

I fear that this night is endin' much earlier than anticipated, but as the trial has started, I got stuff to do, mostly gettin' some rest so I can be doin' some good thinkin' as the DA starts questionin' his witnesses the first thing in the mornin'. My back is already stiffenin' up from havin' to stand in one place for 45 minutes or so as I questioned the jury pool. The people in the pool have been shuffled around all week and it was hard to get any kind of reactions out of them at all. I did my best, and so did the DA, to cull the ones out that we thought were leanin' too far toward the other side, but the ones that made the jury look like a hangin' jury anyway. Sometimes, tryin' cases in rural areas is like pullin' teeth out of an alligator while it is chewin' off you leg, it seems. Especially cases involving drugs. I did try to get my client to agree to the plea bargain, but in either case, unless he gets a not guilty verdict, whatever time the jury gives him is as good as a death sentence. He has cirrhosis and havin' already had three members of my family die from such, I personally know he likely does not have that much longer to live. Here is hopin' that I can punch enough holes in the DA's case to get him off. If not, I at least want to believe I did my best job possible.

As such, I am gonna go soak in another hot tub of water, gaze at my navel as the sun has not set, and then take my tired ass to bed. I do apologize for not bein' around much lately, but things change, don't they. I love all ya'll --- I just forget to tell ya that. Hey, I noticed the little dead girl is back over at Michele's place. I like that little dead girl, because she looks like I feel most of the time, like death warmed over. Ta ta for forkin'* now. End of report.

*I just got so damn tired of seein' ttfn that I decided to add another f. It is now ttffn.

Workin' frantically to gather my wits 'round me

Well, got the call today that I am gonna be startin' that trial tomorrow, so guess I had better be tryin' to get my brain cells a'clickin' again. I am supposin' that gettin' a good night's sleep is one thing I know I can accomplish, or, at least, attempt to accomplish. I have long ago found that just 'cause I go to bed early ain't no guarantee I am gonna fall asleep early, but stayin' up all night is surely a guarantee that I ain't gonna get a good night's sleep. So, given my druthers, if it is a good night's sleep that I am tryin' to get, I do think I will come more likely gettin' it if I am a'layin' in my bed than I will if'n I piddle around playin' freecell on the 'puter or stare mindlessly for hours at my belly button.

I have just detubbed™ from a long hot bath and am clad solely in my bathrobe, not so much for modesty's sake, as I am here alone, but more to fend off the chill of the non-heated air in the house. Although the last couple of days have been dreary rainy affairs, the temperature has stayed in the low fifties and high forties so that I am able to keep my climate control disconnected. That pleases me greatly because I will do anything possible to keep donatin' as little money as possible to the 'lectric pirates company. Of course, bein' clad in said bathrobe, as well as the only light bein' that emitted by the computer monitor,* I am actually unable to see my navel. I was additionally unable to see it while I was soakin' in that hot tub tub of hot water, as there was hardly any light bein' put out by that cheap votive candle alit high on the shelf. Besides, I was takin' a bubble bath ... don't ask me why ... I just was.

Anyway, I do know this is a round about way of tellin' ya'll that I am gonna go to bed early tonight, but that is what I am tryin' to do. My belly button, although ungazed 'pon, is doin' fine, I am sure. I remain totally amazed that so many of ya'll continue to read my drivel, but it gladdens me that ya do. Thanks, friends for droppin' in - truly and sincerely. I sometimes think ya'll are the slender tether that keeps me from floatin' totally off into the realm of pure insanity. I have nuthin' more to add, I guess. End of report.

*another tactic to cheat the 'lectric out of a few more of my well earned pennies

The Monday that was bad and yet not so bad

Wow, was today ever fairly the weirdest day I have had in awhile. I got up early this morning, almost sure I was gonna be in trial for the next couple of days. As it turned out, there was another case that was ahead of mine, so I am on half-day standby. I was not feelin' real well this mornin, but have not slept well over the past several days for whatever reason. I suspected I was just succumbin' to exhaustion. Anyway, when I returned back to my office, I just decided to come home and sleep. So, that is what I did almost all day. I am now gonna go back to bed, so will catch up with all ya'll later.

My navel is fine. How is yours? Give me some feed back -- End of report.

Dreamscape

OK, this one is again primarily for the gals. I have provided you with a double whammy into reality, now we shall delve deep into my bizarre mind to disclose what my deepest and darkest dreams reveal. Is my navel involved? Is it encased in mink? Why am I askin' a bunch of stupid questions? It is late and I have a lot to do tomorrow, and I sorely need to get to bed ... so without further ado, I am gonna urge those of you with strong stomachs to venture forth into the extended entry. For the rest of you - End of report.

Viewin' of image is not recommended for the squeamish or those with a heart condition. Havin' a barf bag handy is also suggested.

Today was the Saturday everyone forgot

Today was an absolute beautiful day here in North Central Texas, and some of us enjoyed it tremendously. I however was not among those. Oh, it was not that I did not have fun. I watched Manhunter, the original movie made involvin' Hannibal Lektor and took a long afternoon nap. I did not do much bloggin', 'ceptin' readin' and repondin' to comments and deletin' comment spam.* I had really intended to spend a greater part of the day readin' all the blogs on my blogroll and catchin' up a bit on what I have missed. I didn't get it done, of course. I just don't know what gets into me. I do that from time to time, get to a point where somethin' comes along, distracts me from what has been an ever'day activity of mine, and then it goes awry. Did I ever tell ya'll about the online comic strip I did for almost six months? I actually had quite a followin', but my mother died and I went to the funeral and let it lapse for a couple of days, and then I began to reflect on the amount of my time it was takin' up and the fact that I was receivin' no remuneration for all that effort and it died.

I guess bloggin' has gone through somethin' similar, but not quite the same. I did find I was spendin' way too much time on it than I actually could afford, what with the many other activities I have goin' on, and I also found that I was not exactly gettin' the return I expected, although, I am not quite sure I was gettin' less than my efforts deserved. What I did discover was that I did like bein' able to share my life and its travails, ordeals, and pleasures with those whom I had developed friendships through my bloggin' efforts, but that I did not really care about continuation of the hoopla and crud that went with movement up the ecosystem. As such, I my blog has evolved or devolved, dependin' 'pon whether you like what is appearin' better than what formerly appeared or not. I know that I am doin' what I want with it, and as I have previously stated, it is my blog and I can damn well do whatever I want with it. I create it, I pay for the server space, and I paid for the software used to create it. It is crud, but it is my crud ... it is the crud that comes from my crudpy thoughts that float around in my crudpy brain that lives inside my crudpy head, and I am proud of what comes forth upon these electronic pages.

My navel, of course, seems to have no concern about this blog at all, and yet, is also the star to most of the current production that exists in this blog. In actuality, that is likely a good thing, because if that navel knew how highly dependent the success of this blog turned on its existence, it would like expect something more than bein' bathed and pampered. So, ya'll do me a favor and don't let on how much you yearn to know about my navel, OK? I can ill afford to be buying a mink navel warmer or some other such extravagant item. In fact, I suppose I might want to end this conversation before my navel decides to get perky and pays attention to what I am doin'. As such: End of report.

*I do have to admit that the comment SPAMMERs were extra busy today, as I had to delete three different efforts during the day. Of course, the winner was the last effort, because I did actually hit their damn link and go to their page. What a bunch of crud.

It's hard to top the very best, huh?

Yep, I have been pullin' at the remainin' strands of my gray/brown/none mix of hair on the top of my head tryin' to think of somethin' so thoroughly unique as to top what I put up last night. I came up with zilch, nada, nuthin'. What the heck is a guy gonna do? I sit here dreamin' of all ya'll lovely ladies and all I want to do is do my best to satisfy your needs, and yet I have nuthin' to show ya tonight. Waah! ya say? Well, I had a very very long day ... maybe that is the problem. Let's hope so, right? Maybe tomorrow will be another day ... that is somethin' I would put a good bet on, because in all my almost 49 years of life, I have never seen a day repeat ... seriously! I am not pullin' your leg ... every day the sun comes up and every day it sets, but there is always a different date and no day is exactly the same as any other. That is pretty amazin' if ya just stop and think about it, don't ya think? Actually, maybe more than anythin', that is a good sign I am too tired to think ... or maybe I am just the weirdest guy in the world. I think the odds are even on either choice ... of course, I am not sure what ya win, even if ya are right. All I know is that I am really, really tired* and I think I will go to bed early, again, for the second day in a row.

*Did ya ever yawn like every other second for fifteen minutes and every time you did so, you damn eyes got so blurry you could not see anythin'?

Tonight we present the video Daily Double

This is just for ya'll gals, as ya'll have stuck with me no matter what, it seems. I have gotten hugs and kisses, and whatnot, and all that has kept me afloat, semi-on track, and able to trudge through my despicable life one damn day after another. Thanks, thanks a lot ... I really do mean that. As your reward, I have donned my sexiest silk boxers and taken a couple of pics. They are in the extended entries, as I am sure that most of the men really do not care to see me in boxer shorts or any other skimpy clothin'. I ain't just real sure any of ya'll gals want have anything to do with seein' me in my drawers either, even though I look so sexy. Ha ha ha ha! Like if! Well, that is about the best lead in I can do for what paltry offerin' I have to give. Have a look or don't. As for me, I am plumb tuckered out and headin' for bed. I know it is early, but I am feelin' drowsy. As I have so very little else to do, I see no reason to fight any urge to sleep. I do hope ya'll will understand. I am gonna end this report here, but ya'll do know it ain't really ended here if there is somethin' in the extended entry, right? Or is that right? Heck, I just don't know. Oops, see, I must be tired, 'cause I just admitted that I actually do not know everythin'. Fine! Here I went and ruined that image ya'll all had of me. Well, I actually think seein' me in my drawers will do that, or at least won't make anythin' better. I am gonna shut up now before I swallow my foot. End of report.

it has a border 'round it, so that means click it

I just can't go on any longer like this

Well, actually, I probably could, but it is ridiculous to sit here lookin' at this screen, knowin' I would feel much better if I just went to bed and laid my head down on my buckwheat pillow. I just got out of the bath, where I spent several minutes pourin' hot water over my head. This eased the pain and, with the muscles eased by the hot water, I then spent the next few minutes rollin' my head around listenin' to the small pops here and there as certain areas of my neck were thereby manipulated, hopefully back to where they belong. I then downed a pair of envelopes of BC Powder, which I will hereby endorse as the best pain killers you can buy without a prescription. In my opinion, and I probably have as much experience with over the counter analgesics as anyone, they seem to work faster than anything else on the market. The pain is still there, but is is subsidin' as I am writin' this. I can, although, still feel that sharp pain in that certain spot at the bottom of my neck which is the likely source of tonight's problem. This might be a little bit of TMI, but let me reveal that I am currently sittin' here nekkid as a newborn baby and I am lookin' right down at my perky little navel sittin' in the middle of my rosy red plump belly. It seems to be doin' so much better than either my neck or my head. It therefore appears that my head and my neck are in need of much more attention than my navel at this current time. I suppose, then, that I will close this report and do what I can do to ease that situation. Here is hopin' ya'll are are doin' great, and don't ya'll worry too much about me and my problems tonight, OK? I mean, it ain't like my arm is hurtin' like Hell or somethin'. In fact, my arm is feelin' pretty good. However, I do suppose, in retrospect, that from one day to the next this week in these report, I have finally proven the old sayin' that if it ain't one thing, it is another. End of report.

Looking at the world through the back of my eyelids

This pretty well sums up my entire day. End of report.

The bright light at the end of the carpal tunnel of hell

Yikes, but what my arm is not hurtin' like Hell. I ain't sure what carpal tunnel syndrome is, but if it means that you damn arm bone feels like it is on fire, I think I got it bad on the right side. Maybe I am lucky and it is only a stress fracture. Whatever it is, it is not givin' me any pleasure ... despite my predilection for findin' some painful experiences to be fun here and there* and my unusual ability to withstand pain to a great extent. I am not sure if it is the pain or the worry that I might be permanently afflicted with something that will keep me from manipulatin' mouse and keys to my heart's desire. Even, more incredibly, it might be the end of my pathetic love life .... what little bit of love life my involuntarily imposed asexuality allows me to experience. I damn well ain't gonna describe the ins and outs and ups and downs, or the utter lack thereof which constitutes my love life. I will leave that bit of TMI completely to your own imagination. You can almost bet that anything you imagine is actually much better than what actually occurs. If it be any consolation, however, I will tell you that there are times when my navel actually plays some part in the endeavor. That part also, I will leave to your imagination. Feel free to conjure whatever scenarios you desire. As I said, they are most probably so much more erotic than the real thing. I suppose things might be better with coke, but as I have no coke, am aware that coke is illegal, and have no idea what effect coke actually has on the body, that things might actually be worse with coke. Actually, I am truly beginnin' to think things might be better with a healthy dose of saltpeter every day. I also wonder if that really works or is it some old wives' tale of yesteryear. What in the hell is saltpeter anyway? I think it is that potassium nitrate that is used for salt substitute for people that are on low sodium diets. Or at least that belief is why I have always avoided the use of such substance.

I actually abhor goin' to the doctor for any problem, advice or whatever. Mostly this is because I don't really want to know that I am dyin', that my cholesterol is high, blood pressure is high, stress level is high, or that the doctor's bills are especially high for the little bit of crud he actually did do durin' the visit. My dad once said he understood why a doctor's business was called a practice. He said it was because they really didn't know how to fix you, they just continued to practice on you until they either found somethin' that eventually cured you or you died. I almost have to agree with that impression, because I know I have not felt much confidence in any physician ... well, except maybe for that last proctologist I saw. I mean a guy that actually looks up you butt must have enough love for his job to shoot straight with you, huh? I trusted the guy, I really did. I had to trust him, because he had his whole hand up my ass. I forget now exactly why that was. What I do know is that I was both impressed and shocked that a person's whole hand and a goodly portion of an arm could actually fit into my butt. I also remember that the sensation of havin' that hand and most of that arm up my butt was not very pleasurable. I decided then and there that my prostate could rot and disintegrate before I was gonna ever go see any proctologist again. Of course, would it not be ironic if the cure for carpal tunnel syndrome turned out to be as simple as shoving your hand and a goodly portion of your arm up someone's butt.

Now, if the foregoin' discussion did not completely run off the three remainin' readers I still have, my animal magnetism is much stronger than I previously believed to be possible. However, I fear goin' forth further, first because my arm is still hurtin' like hell and secondly, because my arm is still hurtin' like hell. End of report.

*Oh spank me, baby! Yeah!

Just when you think you are covered in shit . . .

you find yourself surrounded by flowers. All of those white lies and playful platitudes ya'll very lovely ladies have lauded upon me have caused my cheeks to redden and my heart to go pitter pat. I do thank ya'll for that wee bit of pleasure. I seem to get so little pure pleasure from my life in this day and time, and don't really think that will change anytime soon. My romantic prospects are dim or none. I tried the eHarmony plan, but could never get them to understand that I am not wantin' to live out the rest of my life with someone who has grown children. I am still wantin' to start a family and restrictin' my matches to those between 38 and 53 was not even remotely returnin' people in which I would have been interested. I do thank Dean for suggestin' it, and I am almost sure it does work for most people. My situation is very unique, and it is one that only grows worse year by year. I, however, refuse to settle and will gladly live my remainin' years alone rather than choose to enter into a relationship that will not provide the family I so eagerly seek. I am about ready to just go donate a whole bunch of my damn swimmers at some sperm bank and hope. I mean I might not ever meet my descendants, but maybe I will have some. I can see my son now, raised by a nice lesbian couple, clean cut, intelligent, class president, valedictorian, first Libertarian President of the United Earth as well as the first openly gay one. I probably won't be around for that and would likely be unable to recognize him despite the close resemblance to my own gorgeous features. No matter all of that, I will state now how proud of him I would be if I only knew.

Now then, my daughter will be raised by a traditional man-woman couple, in vitro-fertilization yada yada, and heavy supporters of the NRA as well as gun nuts themselves, and my daughter turns out to be a naturally thin, stunningly beautiful and amazingly agile political assassin who ends up shootin' my son. She has no political affiliations of any kind other than supreme allegiance to the right to bear arms and use them at her pleasure, and commits this act only because she was paid to do so by some anti-gay faction from the former nation of Iran.

Of course, I also have not given up on my dream of just havin' myself cloned and raisin' myself. I think it is a wonderful idea. I have no idea what my navel's take on the idea is. My need to reproduce overrides my every concern for the welfare of my navel. I am almost sure I would readily sacrifice my navel for the well bein' of any off-spring that might arrive in my later years. Damn, now I am already feelin' down again. That sucks. I think I will go take a nice hot bath and stare at my navel for a bit. You would be surprised at how supremely relaxin' that can be. End of report.

Alone again, naturally

Well, the blind date party was a bust, due mostly to the weather even though it all melted away during the day. Somehow, most of the females were worried about the forecast of 30% chance it would snow again tonight, so they decided it was too risky to show up. So, here we were, 20 males and 7 females, so 13 males had no dates. I happened to be one of the 13 and not one of the 7. It was done fairly, though, as we drew numbers out of the hat, and I came up with number 11. Then the 7 girls each drew a number out of the hat, and no one drew number 11. So, I hung around just long enough to put in a good show. I am pretty used to being a wallflower anyway, so it was not all that traumatic for me. Some of the other losers spent the night drinkin' up as much of the free* beer as they could. As I eschew drinkin' on most occasions, I decided since I was 90 minutes from home, it was probably a good idea that I stayed sober. It turned out, that was probably a good idea, because I was pretty drowsy during the drive home as it was, and I can imagine how much worst it would have been if I had spent the 2.5 hours I did stay at the party drinkin'.

So, me and my navel are home, safe and sound. We did not meet another navel tonight as we had hoped, but to tell you the truth, if the 7 gals that did show up were any indication of what the 13 who stayed home looked like, it is fairly easy to tell why none had a date for Valentine's Day already. Of course, the same could be said of all 20 males who showed up also, because, with the exception of myself,** they were about the ugliest bunch of guys in the universe.

My drowsiness has not worn off from my safe arrival, and this minor bloggin' excursion, so I am gonna go bury myself and my navel under two layers of goose down and go to sleep. Happy Valentine's Day, ya'll, and sorry to be so late is sayin' so, but one for one, I am sure all of ya'll have a better Valentine's Day than I did. The best thing that could absolutely be said for the day is that I did survive it without any problems. It was actually just another crudpy day like usual. End of report.

*It really wasn't free, as the entrance fee to the party was to pay for the beer, chips and crud, but some of those guys were so stupid, they really thought they were gettin' over by drinkin' as many cups of beer as they could.

**I may be the only one who thinks I am an exceptionally handsome guy, but my opinion is likely the only one that counts anyway, as no one else hardly ever gives me a second glance, anyway.

Thank George tomorrow is a different day

. . . and hopefully will bring a whole pile of different crud with which to deal. Today's pile was an odoriferous lump of boredom. The weather was just yucky, cold, dreary and wet - hovering just at the freezing point. My phone hardly rang. I got nuthin' much of anythin' done, but then I was under the dark cloud of Friday the 13th all day. I survived the day, and almost perished from boredom while I tried to find something, anything to do* this evenin'. I shoulda blogged. I didn't. I am ashamed. Not much. I love you all - yes, even you.** My navel feels simply content that no disaster befell us this day. End of report.***

*It appears that even when you are as good lookin' as I am, it is not as easy to find an event involvin' wild monkey sex as you might think.

**No, that love does not extend to ya'll comment spammers. I have nuthin' but utter revulsion for your kind.

***Now even I am beginnin' to think we were better off when Cherry was doin' these reports.

Hey, stop your bitchin' already, it is still my blog

So ya'll prefer the mild stylin's of Cherry over my mundane drivelin', huh? Well, after spotlightin' my sweet adorable blog child these last couple of days, I figured it was about time I bared my navel for ya'll again. You know what's the hardest thing about not bloggin' endlessly during the day? Nothin'! I find that I have so many other things that I really need to be doin', which I am continually neglectin' to get done, that devotin' time to anythin' that is not accomplishin' much other than wastin' my extremely valuable time, is counterproductive. I work so very hard to maintain my just not productive position in life, so work very very hard not to slip into any counterproductive mold. Hey, I don't understand what I just wrote either. I read it two or three times and still am not sure I completely understand what I said. fork! No wonder no one reads this blog. [I really didn't need to say fork, did I? OK, let me have my fork back, please?]*

Yeah, I bared my navel for the gut cut, ya'll. Go ahead and shove that knife in - put the blogosphere out of its misery by cuttin' the thorn that is ***: Raggin' & Rantin' outta it's side. Ya know ya wanna! End of report.

*Can ya really ever successfully take a fork back?

Well here I am again...

Although I think that maybe I should have written; Unwell here I am again...

I currently feel like a pincushion, having spent too much time at the hospital today being poked and prodded.

Terry is asleep, which explains why I am here, although I am here no longer for I must go.

Later Taters!

A horse of a different color

(Cherry)This is a direct result of a lack of imagination on Tig's part... Having no ideas about what to write in his Navel Report, he comes to me for advice...(/Cherry)

teabagiii: hi
cheriecherry3: hey!
cheriecherry3: Terry!!! :)
teabagiii: yes
cheriecherry3: I have msn back!
cheriecherry3: *dances* :D
teabagiii: cool
teabagiii: I am so glad
cheriecherry3: lol
teabagiii: I was just going to bed and saw you on here and wanted to say HI
cheriecherry3: me too :)
teabagiii: post something on my blog for me
cheriecherry3: oh?
cheriecherry3: like what???
cheriecherry3: (now that I can see it) :-s
cheriecherry3: My Mac has been having issues...
teabagiii: I don't know, tell everyone I am fine and hoping that I won the big lottery jackpot
cheriecherry3: my comment the other day was the first time I've been able to read it all year :(
cheriecherry3: lol
teabagiii: my blog?
cheriecherry3: why?
teabagiii: why?
cheriecherry3: yeah
teabagiii: I am so confused, you ought not do this too me when I am so close to falling asleep in my chair
cheriecherry3: Mac glitch :(
teabagiii: ah
cheriecherry3: I'm on a PC now :)
teabagiii: cool
cheriecherry3: lol
teabagiii: I am on a stone tablet
cheriecherry3: *giggles* so why do you want me to post?
teabagiii: It was a pain in the rear to connect to the internet, though
cheriecherry3: huh?
teabagiii: mainly because I don't have anything interesting to share
teabagiii: scroll back and it will make sense, grasshopper
cheriecherry3: aww...
cheriecherry3: a stone tablet?
teabagiii: yeah
teabagiii: wasn't that funny?
cheriecherry3: lol
cheriecherry3: grasshopper? :P
cheriecherry3: better than hobbit I guess...
teabagiii: old TV show called Kung Fu
teabagiii: you could never be a Hobbit
cheriecherry3: ah...
teabagiii: You are too elvish to grow hair on your feet
teabagiii: maybe I could post this whole conversation into my blog and let that be my Nightly Navel Gazin' Report
cheriecherry3: lol
teabagiii: I would, however, have to fit something about navels in this conversation, would I not?
cheriecherry3: a lot of people say I look elvish!?!
cheriecherry3: lol
cheriecherry3: you could!?! if you were really desperate :P
teabagiii: And I did think your navel looked especially elvish
teabagiii: and I am going to assume that it still does
teabagiii: it would be different, would it not?
cheriecherry3: lol
cheriecherry3: *shhhh... nobody is supposed to know it was me... :P
cheriecherry3: lol
teabagiii: and I did get something about navels in there, did I not
teabagiii: I am a crafty fellow, if nothing else
cheriecherry3: actually, I've lost a lot of weight... (not that I had any to lose!?!)
teabagiii: hey, now, you don't need to be developing an eating disorder
teabagiii: I already lost one of the loves of my life that way, I surely don't want to lose another
cheriecherry3: aww...
cheriecherry3: it's not an eating disorder...
teabagiii: then what it is?
cheriecherry3: I've just been doing a lot more running and tennissing recently :)
teabagiii: and not eating sufficiently to fulfill your needs?
cheriecherry3: I'm not gonna have time to post anything tonight... we're going very soon...
teabagiii: OK, I am gonna be forced to post this conversation then
cheriecherry3: no no... I'm just fitter now, and the slight excess? I guess has gone :)
teabagiii: all of my best stuff for the day is contained here
cheriecherry3: lol
cheriecherry3: I might come in and edit it later :P
cheriecherry3: lol
teabagiii: You do have that privilege
cheriecherry3: how are ya? :)
teabagiii: alive
cheriecherry3: haven't heard from you in a while...
teabagiii: lonely
cheriecherry3: (and you always hide) :P
teabagiii: I have been using one of my other yahoo ids here lately
cheriecherry3: aww...
cheriecherry3: *hugs*
teabagiii: you are soft
teabagiii: don't let go
cheriecherry3: lol
cheriecherry3: *shakes head and giggles*
teabagiii: I am so tired
teabagiii: I need to go to bed
cheriecherry3: well, use your msn one occasionally, huh? :)
teabagiii: I will do so
cheriecherry3: I probably won't be on here again :)
teabagiii: I promise
teabagiii: k
cheriecherry3: lol
cheriecherry3: so go already :P
cheriecherry3: Sweet Dreams Terry :)
teabagiii: I hardly ever use yahoo anyway except when I needed to use it so as to talk to you while hiding
teabagiii: can I post this conversation?
cheriecherry3: lol
cheriecherry3: hmm... most of it I guess... :P
cheriecherry3: Then get some sleep sweetie :)
teabagiii: OK what parts can't I use?
teabagiii: hello?
cheriecherry3: lol
teabagiii: you are leaving me in the lurch here?
cheriecherry3: sorry...
cheriecherry3: I don't know... I'm sure you won't post anything to insane :P
cheriecherry3: me? :O
cheriecherry3: lol I thought you were going to bed :P
cheriecherry3: lol
teabagiii: I might post something to insane, but I won't post anything too insane
cheriecherry3: nah, actually, I was doing some work on the other computer :)
cheriecherry3: Deletes 486MB of trash...
teabagiii: I am an ass, forget that
cheriecherry3: has a faster computer :P
teabagiii: cool
teabagiii: I need a good laptop
cheriecherry3: no you're not... you're a sweetie :)
teabagiii: don't make me blush
cheriecherry3: lol
teabagiii: I am gonna post this just exactly like it is
cheriecherry3: I need a good laptop too... when you find one, you'll send it over, right? :P
cheriecherry3: lol
teabagiii: it is oozing with love and sickly sweet stuff
cheriecherry3: righto... I'll be over to edit it tomorrow...
teabagiii: you have a good laptop already, and just wish my head was laying in it
cheriecherry3: just so people don't see how insane I can really be :P
cheriecherry3: lol
cheriecherry3: *idiot* :P
teabagiii: who are you calling an idiot?
teabagiii: me?
teabagiii: I resemble that remark
cheriecherry3: lol
cheriecherry3: going home now...
cheriecherry3: later tater :)
teabagiii: bye
cheriecherry3: (as a wise man once said) :P
cheriecherry3: get some sleep :)
teabagiii: as soon as you are gone, I will tuck my navel in bed and end this report

Much too little, much too late

Hey, here it is, way after midnight, and why? Well because as it got closer and closer to the time I really need to go to bed, I find there was several different people contactin' me about this and that. I wish it was about me winnin' the lottery or somethin', but nope. Still, things are lookin' up a bit. Here is hopin' that Michele is over her sickness and with a clear mind, maybe she will reread my post and come up with a different opinion, but whether she does or she doesn't, it makes no difference. I am over my snit regardin' that minor inane incident, but still am findin' it hard to spend as much time bloggin' as I used to do, as I am tryin' hard to make a few changes in my life. Quittin' smokin' was a big step, findin' the money to fix my teeth is the next step, so as I am workin' hard to sell this and that to raise the money, I will be doin' what is important for me, and I apologize to my readers for neglectin' their needs. But, in the end, isn't takin' care of my navel the most important thing I could ever do? As it seems to want so badly to have another navel to rub against, surely I should do everthin' in my power to satisfy such need, don't ya think? Well, I do need to get to bed, so I am gonna have to end this report. Seems like the same ol' story every night here lately, huh? End of report.

Howdy from Ft. Worth

Hey ya'll, the navel is havin' a great time. I am in Ft. Worth in some coffee shop. I came up here to go to some bar a friend of mine suggested. Yes, there were a lot of attractive sexy gals around, but it was way too smoky, I don't like drinking that much, I don't dance, so I stayed for a bit, caught no one's attention that I was interested in, so I left. In fact, the only person who seemed to have any interest in me at all was some guy who kept looking at the middle of my stomach or somethin'. I am pretty sure I know what he had on his mind. I think he was wantin' to lick my navel? What do ya'll think. Gotta go, the place is closin' down. End of report.

The topsy turvy world I live in

Here it is Friday night and I am dead tired at 11:00 pm when I do not have to get up early tomorrow, but all week long I was staying up until 1:00 or 2:00 am nearly every night and having to get up at 6:30 am. Now what exactly is wrong with this picture? I suppose it is that it has nothing to do with my navel and yet is the subject of this report. As such, maybe I should just end it, huh? OK. End of Report.

These days are getting worse and worse

I had a horrible day and really do not feel like talking about it. I am sorry I have not had all that much to say here lately. I have no good excuse for it other than life sucks, but ya'll already knew that, didn't ya? End of Report.

It was a day just like any other - almost

Yep, it was cold, I had to work, I got very little done, waited all day at the office for one phone call. I thought I had somewhere to go after work, got there and found I was wrong, this was the Democrat's meeting. The Republican meeting is on Thursday. It is still cold, I need to go to bed, I have to awaken again in the morning to do just about the same thing I did today. I wish I had something more important to write about, but nothing comes to mind. I want to thank all of you who are still coming around despite my mood and my dearth of posting. That does really mean a lot to me. My navel is awaiting the chance to be under the goosedown, so I guess I had better do my job to make it happy. More tomorrow, I hope. All fo ya'll have a great evening, day or whatever until the next time. End of report.

The absolute utter inanity of it all

Let me see, the first anniversary of the Columbia explosion has come and gone, and I did not blog about such nor even noticed if anyone else did. I think everyone likely had a memory or two about that day pass through their minds at some point, so nothing was missed because I did not blog on it. Lots of people were killed in Iraq this last week, and I didn't blog about it, but then I usually really don't blog about the war, as the subject is covered much more extensively in so many other fine blogs. I didn't blog on the Super Bowl, or the travesty that occurred at the halftime show, an event that is neither worth the mention that it got nor all that alarming. Appalling it was, but then so much of everything around me seems so damn appalling - with no one is any longer seriously taking responsibility to act civilized and show some respect for public decency. In the grand scheme of events, that scenario will not be remembered any longer than that damn kiss on the Emmy Awards. That's entertainment of the 21st Century: sex and sleaze has gone mainstream. Complacency leads to decadence, decadence leads to destruction of the fabric of society. That one inane moment in the middle of the Super Bowl was just another chink in the chain of events that is leading to the eventual downfall of the United States. It might not happen tomorrow, but it is coming. Tittie, tittie, tittie - as if a navel is not sufficient to show the delectability of the human body? It's insane, it's utterly inane. End of report.

[UPDATE: Found something in my SPAM that I think I want to use to begin my wishlist. I think it is a title to a video that I would love to have in my collection: 'DirtyGIRLs Down0nTheFarm'. -that is an actual cut&paste from the subject line of the message.]

Stuff you really don't want to know

Ha! You just thought there was something here. Well, there is! It just isn't much. End of report.

?

The fat lady lingers still

There's nuthin' of interest here, folks. Just keep that line movin'. End of Report.

Sometimes ya just can't win for losin'

crud, crud and more crud! Sometimes I wonder why I even try. Am I the only one that understands what I am sayin' most of the time? Is my ability to communicate usin' the English language so atrocious that I have no business writin' anythin' for public consumption? crud if I know and crud if I care. Maybe this is my last blog post forever, after all I could die in my sleep. If I never wrote another thing, ya might have to wonder about that, wouldn't ya? Or ya could just go through life not givin' another thought about me. In the grand scheme of things, I am nuthin' and will never be nuthin', but then I don't know of anyone whose significance is such that they will affect anythin' enough to even ripple the evolution of mankind.

Yeah, I am gonna contemplate my bloggin' efforts. If the most I can accomplish is pissin' off the people I am tryin' to compliment, then maybe I could make better use of my time. It ain't like I don't have other things to do. I mean, sure, I ain't got nobody, but I got three books that I could finish and attempt to get published. Whatever I do, you can bet my navel will stick with me on it. End of report.

The tale of the totally blank mind

Yep, I am tired ... likely the effects of last night's lack of sleep as a result from havin' gotten up at 2:00 am and takin' that antihistamine. Oh well -- so needin' sleep and havin' an early court date tomorrow in the next town over, I am guessin' it might indeed be wise to call all this inanity to a halt and take my sweet lovable navel to bed. Now get those thoughts of kinkiness out of your mind ... there ain't no navel involvement in any hanky-panky I could come up with that did not involve another person. I am not sure such situation is not regrettable, however, as I have never fully contemplated such dilemma previously. I ask for your advice and further enlightenment on the subject. How would you like to see navels involved in personal hanky panky exercises? Anyone got any thoughts on the activity?

Sure, go ahead, show everyone that you are as peculiar as I. Ya know ya wanna tell us all about your secret navel fantasies, don't ya?

End of Report.

Don't ya ever just wish someone would bite your head off

OK, I know this is liable to kill my visitation numbers for today, but my head is poundin' and so I am thinkin' it likely is not a good move to just stare at this screen all night tonight. I apologize, as I know my three, well maybe now, five, regular visitors will drop in lookin' for a lot to read and find I blogged very little that is new. I will leave ya with this thought however. I keep smellin' somethin' that smells like a steak cookin' on a grill, but it is cold outside so I am sure no one is grillin' outside. I cannot for the life of me figure out where that smell is comin' from. I didn't have steak for lunch, so I am sure there are not any good steak morsels stuck in my mustache. So, maybe my mind is playin' tricks on me. Uh, do ya think it is just makin' me think I have a headache also. Damn my mind, stop it before I find someone to bite my head off and then I can go to the head store and by a new one. Anyone know where they moved the head store? I need one that does not hurt and play tricks on me ... not too many other qualifications necessary, expect I would like one that had a nice face, a good head of hair, a perfect set of teeth as white as they could be and looked a lot like Harrison Ford and nothin' like Michael Jackson. I will swap all of my ear and armpit hair and one inch of height for such a head.

OK, so what's up with the navel, ya ask? It doesn't hurt and is givin' me no problems of any kind. I have no plans to swap it for another navel, although I am still lookin' for a really nice one to rub it against. Anna, just for your information, I do have the thing you mentioned as most important to you and if I get that new head, I might have the rest of what ya are lookin' for. Hey, I did mention that my head hurts, right? So I guess ya'll won't mind if I end this report, will ya? Yeah, I knew ya'll were good sports! End of report.

[UPDATE: Well, it is 2:00 am and the headache never did subside, so I had to drag my nice warm navel outta the bed, dress up enough to go the store across the street from my regular place, which closes at midnight, just so as to get a couple of those sinus pills that keep me awake all night. It was not like I was gonna be able to sleep anyway with my head poundin'. Bein' the good blogger I am, I stopped to let all of ya'll know that before I undressed again and crawled back under the goosedown. I might not be asleep, but I will be restin' very warmly, thank ya very much.]

Eat my damn shorts!

Oh, that was for my ISP who has been like the worst ISP in the world for about 3 or 4 years, but decided today, of all days, when like the biggest news story ever hits the news to just not want to do anything. I mean, ya gotta have some bandwidth to play Internet, and when ya ain't got enough to put through the eye of a needle, which is like nil, cause electrons will flow through the eye of a needled by the millions, so I was just dead in the water. It was boilin' 'cause I was hot, so check me, I am done.

Navel is remarkably well, but then with the hot baths I immerse myself into on occasion, my navel is pretty used to bein' in hot water. As such, it is pink, robust and healthy as can be. Time to go tuck it under some goose down. Got court early tomorrow and might be there all day, what with havin' several in the jail that likely need lookin' in on, so bloggin' will be light until I clear my docket. Ya'll have fun now, ya here? End of report.

Oh My! Ain't it a bloody shame

Damn, did I ever receive some sad news. It seems that the last of my swimmers died today when my nuts exploded from non-use.* Now that possibility was not contained in the owners manual and I did not find the event to be an enjoyable experience. However, it has relieved me of the problem of worryin' 'bout if I was ever gonna sire my own progeny. It seems that I won't. Lack of swimmers insures that end. Therefore, I no longer require a ready and willin' mate to sire said children nor any need to further engage in sexual activity of any kind. As such, I no longer have a need for women, nor, for that matter, for people in any form or nature. I have no reason to exist. I am officially a worthless piece of human trash. Yay me!

In the navel news, department -- there is none. How could I think 'bout my navel when I was thinkin' 'bout my nuts. End of report.

*OK, OK, my nuts did not explode and I might still have some viable swimmers somewhere, but it could happen, ya know?

Strange days are made like this

Well, let us see, best laid plans of mice and men ... yada yada ... so the tour did not go as planned and I did not go on the tour. See, seems this was some kind of class thing where these kids were gonna be takin' pictures of the animals and such. They arrived 45 minutes late and I had the other thing to do at a time certain, so I let someone else take my spot, one of the trainee docents who was not qualified yet to give the tours, because they mostly just needed someone to drive them around the damn place so they could take pictures. I am not chidin' the class though, because it was not their fault that the event was not explained that well to me when I agreed to be there. Anyway, so I got back home and read few blogs and then went up to my friend's store to meet my ex-wife.

She pulled up to the front of the store in a brand new red Firebird. Despite bein' almost a decade older, she had really not changed all that much, which surprised me. I was almost sure she would have gained a lot of weight and resemble a hippo or somethin' similar, but nope, that was not the case. So, anyway, we went down the street and had lunch, and mostly she told me what had happened in her life since our divorce. Mostly the conversation centered on her family and my family and what they were doin' now. Then I let her follow me back to my house, where she brought in several items she admitted she had stolen from me when she had packed her crud and moved out of my house so many long years ago. She advised me there were a couple of items that had been destroyed in the elapsed time and that she would do whatever it took to make it right. I guess what was strange was that the things she returned were things I had not missed, even at the time of the move. or if I did, just wrote off anyway. These were not items of extreme value, although a quilt she had admitted that she took and that was long since gone probably had some sentimental value, but still, I had not missed it either. She told me about her AA meetings, and that she had been sober for about 8 months now. She had attempted to avoid makin' her required amends to me for bein' the worst possible wife and basically destroyin' my trust in womankind, but her sponsor had forced her to make the two hour trip to do so. Of course, nothin' she had to say changed the crud that she had done to me oh so many years ago, or repaired what had been broken inside of me. Yes, I am not the same man I was prior to meetin' that CHB and will never be again. I am glad that she is doin' better and is finally cleanin' up her act, but mostly for the sake of her kids. As for me, my life continues to suck.

I apologize for the light bloggin' today. I was actually sittin' here for quite some time playin' with some ideas for reworkin' the look of my blog. Mostly, though, 'bout all I did was work on this new title graphic idea. I saw somethin' very similar on The Introverted Exhibitionist. I did a bit of searchin' though some photos until I came up with just the right one, and then cut the part I liked. I am likely gonna redo some self photos, though, and see if I can't get somethin' a bit better in the bottom right hand corner. Anyway, have a look at it, and give me your thoughts.

Oh wait, I did get around to doin' a bit more bloggin' -- but I musta fooled ya with that earlier lull, 'cause there weren't too many droppin' in and droppin' snarky comments. I know it was Saturday, but if ya are sittin' there, ain't ya glad someone is postin' somethin' splendiferous for your enjoyment?

Navel stayed pretty much to itself today. I am pretty sure it had a lot of do with my overall mood. I suspect that it was just afraid to show itself. Oh well, at least it came to no harm by playin' it safe, huh? End of report.

Allowin' one's navel to catch a breath of fresh air

So, how long were ya'll waitin' in line tonight to get in for the show? I understand it is standin' room only tonight. The word musta been gettin' 'round about tonight's special episode, huh? Well, it is good to see such a large and lively crowd, 'cause we do have a couple of very special treats in store tonight. However, if'n ya want to see the show, ya are gonna have follow me into the back part of the theater. Click on the extended entry link and follow me ...

>From Buzzstuff, I found a special navel view for ya'll. The lady is shy, so she is still in the green room. If'n ya walk quietly, ya can catch a quick glance at a stupendous navel display. Please take your time, and gaze upon its marvel as long as you wish. However, I have one more surprise for you this evenin'. It seems that I have discovered evidence that flyin' cars may be in the works at Ford Motor Company in the near future. Here is a pic of a prototype. I promise ya, with the powere that baby is packin' under the hood, she will fly! Yep, just what I need to work on my dream of endin' my life as a spot on the side of a mountain. ;) Hey, ya'll, don't weat the small stuff, ya hear? End of report.

The bitter end of bloggin' as we now know it

I have been sittin' here for a long while just starin' at this box tryin' to figure out what to tell ya'll. I mean I started out this mornin' flat and it has continued in that vein through most of the day. There just was not a whole lot that interested me. I looked and looked for some inspiration, some spark to inflame my passions. It just did not happen. I ain't too sure what it is. Have I gotten a case of the post-SOTU syndrome? Do I need help? Do I need treatment? Do I need wild monkey sex? Mostly, I think, I just need to go to bed. I can just lay there listenin' to the rats scramblin' 'round in the attic, thinkin' how my life could be so much better if my navel was not so choosy 'bout those navels with which it will come in contact. I adore my navel, but it can be so neglectful of my needs and wishes. Navels, what can ya do about 'em. You're just stuck with 'em whether you want to be or not. Well, we did it, we got to the end. Yay. Now I can go to bed. End of Report.

The Short Report

Navel fine. Hand hurts. End of Report.

I could dance all night --

Well, not dance like most of ya'll likely imagine, but I could dance my fingers on these keys and continually supply ya'll with my inane thoughts and snarky comments for the rest of the time between this very moment and the time my groggy head hits he keyboard. I think ya would know that had happened because the result would look somethin' like this: ubhyjuvgftrbhyuj [spell check actually suggested something*]. Damn, and ya get a lot of skin oil on your keyboard. Do ya realize how hard this is to remove? Me either, 'cause I ain't even gonna try. Heck, if this keyboard quits workin', I will just have to look around here and see if I ain't got another keyboard layin' round. I likely do, but, of course, its prolly an AT keyboard and I will need a PS2. I need to reinstall my voice recognition software then we could really have fun with strange letter combinations. Hey, that could be a meme -- naw, who the hell would get any enjoyment outta findin' unique ways of creatin' strange letter combinations -- that didn't involve sex. I always assume that anythin' that does involve sex will be enjoyable and will be somethin' that people will clamor to be a part of. That would not include me, however, 'cause I am not a people. I am a ***. That is a lot like bein' a Lone Wolf, only with stripes.

Wow, I started this post a half hour ago. Where did time go? Either my watch just decided to go fast or I just spent 15 minutes starin' into space without seein' nuthin'. Hey, did any of ya'll catch the State Of The Union Address? What was the verdict? Is the Union healthy? Will it survive? Will it outlive Fidel Castro? OK, really, was there anythin' that came out that surprised anyone? I mean, really? Go TEAM! Right?

I still got several blog windows open and, yet, I am worn to a frazzle. I gotta put a stop to this and just go to bed. I found myself lookin' at Bloviatin' Inanities, and it just sucked the life outta me. I ain't dancin' all night. In fact, I am about done with dancin' tonight ... unless, of course, I find some willin' volunteer to do a bit of the horizontal mambo ... (sorry 'bout that ... imagination runnin' wild- naked it seems). Speakin' of naked, I ain't. I could be, but not here. I think I will wait until I am in close proximity of that double layer of goosedown.

Navel seems to be fine this evenin' as belly is not gurglin', rumblin' or bubblin and navel is sittin' pristinely atop the peaceful belly, yea, though I walk through the valley of flesh, I will savor .... sorry, there goes that damn wild imagination again. I think this is a good time to end it, don't you? End of Report.

*No, seriously, when I ran spell check, it stopped on that word and suggested that I might have possibly misspelled the word "something".

Sittin' 'round in my bathrobe, fully dressed

What? Ya'll ain't believin' I am sittin' 'round in my bathrobe, fully dressed? Ya'll are thinkin' this is another one of those pranks like when I said I was wearin' Bermuda shorts when I don't even own Bermuda shorts? Well, fooled ya again, didn't I, 'cause I am actually sittin' 'round in my bathrobe, fully dressed. It is cold, has been cold and will likely be cold for a bit longer. I did not feel up to undressin' when I got home from work and was sittin' here bloggin' when I began to feel a bit chilled. I thought about puttin' on my long leather overcoat, the one I wear when I am venturin' 'bout durin' the day, but I thought it might be just a bit heavy to be sittin' here bloggin' in ... then I thought of my terry cloth bathrobe. It fit the bill nicely and I am warm and snug.

Well, 'ceptin' for my feet. My feet are cold. They seem to stay pretty cold most of the time. I think it is an old man thing, though. I think my old heart just has a hard time pumpin' warm blood all the way down there. It seems that I 'member my ol' great-granddaddy used to sit around most evenin's with his feet sittin' in a tub of hot water filled with Epsom Salt. I always thought it was because his feet hurt, but maybe it was 'cause they was cold. Oh, but my feet hurt too. I figure that comes from gettin' old too. I ain't really likin' gettin' old.

Seems I was thinkin' the other day about Heather and her hair. Heather had the prettiest curly hair and she went and straightened it. I see all these gals with lovely straight hair who work all day to get it curly. I see all these guys with these beautiful thick heads of hair who shave it all off. What I have never seen is anyone wish all their hair would fall out -- it just happens -- like shit happens, I guess. And I have gotten to the point where I really do wish it would all fall out.

Well, I gotta get to bed. I am suppose to be in court to see whether or not I am to go to jury trial on one of my cases tomorrow. This one is in a different neighborin' town than where I usually seem to have to head off to almost three times a week. I am hopeful that I do not have to go to trial tomorrow. My client is in his late fifties, a chronic alcoholic in the last stages of liver disease, and I suspect will not live long. If we can postpone the trial, maybe he can die in the free world instead of behind bars. Also, he has not even gotten close to havin' paid me enough money to take this case to a jury trial. However, with my luck, the trial will begin tomorrow. I can't get to my navel to gaze, and my hands are too cold to do a manual probe. I am assumin' it is alright restin' atop my gurglin' stomach which is workin' hard to digest that packet of graham crackers I downed while readin' some of ya'll's blogs. Unless the stomach blows, and I cannot promise it won't, I suspect the navel is fine. If not, I will make sure ya'll are the first to know. End of report.

Ya'll sure were a silent bunch today

Why was ever'one so quiet today? Was it your disappointment in seein' the Colts lose to New England or that Philadelphia tanked at the feet of the Carolina Panthers? I was mindful not to give ya'll a report this evenin'. The navel is a bit despondent that there were so many visitors and nary a single one stopped to say Howdy or anythin'. I 'spect that the navel would really enjoy one o' ya'll gals singin' a soft lullaby to it as it warmed itself under the goosedown. I understand the unlikeliness of that happenin' but I just don't have the heart to break it to the navel. It is so highly sensitive, ya know? Well, if no one has anythin' to say, I do think I will drag my navel to bed and call it a night. Wet dreams, ya'll. End of Report.

Frazzled, bamboozled and plumb infuriated

Folks, I gotta tell ya'll that I am about as irritated as I have ever been over this evenin's ordeal. I had to work and work to rid myself of all that garbage and there were bags and bags of it piled here and there. I am supposing the easiest thing to do is the install that little scripty thing that makes ya write that number you can hardly make out in the box before ya submit your comments. Also, accordin' to the literature, MT is workin' on some fixes for the next installment.

I downloaded the newest update but it seems the file is either corrupted or my WinZip is a bit dated. Never know about such things. I know just enough about most of the inner workin's on the server side to fuck things up quite nicely. I remember back when I spent three days installin' MT in the beginnin'. Crap -- I am tellin' ya -- I am just too old to have to continually stay on my toes. I mean, do you know what kind of a strain that puts on my old ankles? It even makes the skin stretch hard across my belly and you know how that causes those ugly wrinkles in my navel area.

Nope, I shall not be leavin' here tonight a happy camper. I am pissed. I have no comment capabilities, and so that means the only way you can comment on anythin' you see here is to post about it on your blog and track it back to my post. That is so much trouble, I doubt any of ya'll will even do it. That's OK. I will find someone to help me fix them comment boxes with the input boxes tomorrow -- I hope! Navel is sore for the stretchin' but still there. End of report.

Just when ya thought surely there was nuthin' new to report

Hey ya'll, I don't want anyone to get offended by my post below. It was not my intention to make light of Dr. King, because I admire the life and teachings of Dr. King. I just was havin' fun, like I always try to do here on this blog. I try to have fun and find ways to entertain all my kooky readers.

Anyway, I am beat from a really long day, and don't feel like wrestlin' with this sorry connection when no one is bloggin' anyway. Tomorrow is Saturday and I am almost sure no one will be bloggin' much like most Saturdays[*] and maybe even less because this is a 3 day weekend. I might not have all that much to say myself tomorrow, as I am thinkin' there will be some football games to watch or somethin'.

I do know it is rapidly coolin' off 'round here and still rainin' like it has been since the drizzle started yesterday or was it the day before yesterday. The forecast says it ain't goin' 'way until the weekend is over. I might just have to go someplace.

Anyway, I am off to bed, 'cause under the goosedown is the warmest place in the house. Sometimes it is almost too warm, until I need to get up in the middle of the night to make a mad dash to pee, then I cannot wait to crawl back under the covers and warm back up. I am tellin' ya, my navel loves it under the covers. Again, everyone have a safe and happy weekend, and if I don't blog much over the weekend, I might have gone someplace. I mean there ain't much goin' on around town this weekend and none of my honeys is emailin' me or anythin'. I think it is time for me to get to bed and have some dreams or somethin'. I mean if there ain't any excitement in real life, dream up a bit -- use your 'magination. I mean, in my dreams, I can snuggle with Renée Zellweger. My navel likes that thought. Enough of this madness, ya say? I agree. End of report.

[*UPDATE-it does appear that Kate has come up with the best excuse for not bloggin' over the weekend]

spell check is my friend

What Famous Leader Are You?

fo shizzle somethin' nor other while it drizzles

Hmmm, ya'll plumb hurt my feelin's. There ain't hardly been anyone droppin' in tonight just to see what's goin' on. I know, 'cause I was watchin' the door. I wasn't sayin' nuthin' 'cause I was busy doin' somethin' for a local friend of mine. I ain't really sure what she does with 'em, but she is always sendin' me songs and askin' me to cut little pieces outta them at a certain length. She does some website for her HS Alumni Society and uses the clips for some reason on it, but I have no idea beyond that.

The majority of that time was spent tryin' to download the attached song over my pathetic internet connection. I would have loved to download it at the office, but I don't have the necessary program on any of my office computers. That task has now been completed and, accordin' to an email I just now received, satisfactorily received.

So, what the Hell does this have to do with anythin'? Hell, I forgot what we was talkin' 'bout. Oh, yeah! Ya'll was ignorin' me and didn't think I was watchin'. Well, I was and it hurt ... way down here.* OK, wait, don't let me be jumpin' to no wild conclusions here ... there was somethin' good on TV tonight, wasn't there? Yeah, that's it, 'cause ya'll wouldn't ignore me just 'cause I was not blurbin', would ya?**

Oh George, I think I am comin' down with Blogzheimer's disease, 'cause I can't seem to 'member the purpose of my bloggin' right now. Is that you, Horton? Did you hear a Who?

*So just where do you think I was talkin' 'bout? This is still the Nightly Navel Gazin' Report,*** ain't it?

**Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know there are always exceptions to the rule, but I was not really includin' Yankees when I said that.

***End of Report

Is it Miller time yet?

OK, didn't realize how late it is and how I been piddlin' 'round tryin' to do somethin' I thought might please one or two of ya'll, George knows why? Remember back a week or so ago when one of my other personalities came out and chewed me for fibbin' on the topic of Bermuda shorts? I believe I remember someone or two sayin' somethin' 'bout a picture of me in some Bermuda shorts, navel bare. And as ya'll likely 'member, I said I didn't have any Bermuda shorts. I did, however, run across a pair of some really wrinkled old silk boxer shorts, and came up with this shot not fit for human eyes.

Now, that we have gotten that ugly business outta the way -- hey, did ya'll know that Accidental Jedi married Jay Solo? I mean, ain't it cool they found each other? Of course, seems to me he ain't Jay Solo anymore and maybe it is time to merge those domains. But then again, I might just be buttin' in. It sure ain't 'cause I got all the answers. -- but then I do? -- have all the answers.

Mostly, though, my answers only apply to myself. Like my bloggin' and my blog and what I personally think bloggin' is all about. 'Member Ted said somethin' 'bout my blog design? I asked and no one squawked. I didn't really design my blog to be what Ted personally liked, I designed it because it is what I like. I have all those things on there, because I think it looks cool, or because I use them. I use the search feature more than anyone. I click the site meter more than anyone. I keep those at the top. The various lists are for my easy review of blog activity, or display of interestin' artifacts.

My blog is cluttered, like my life is ... like my surroundin's. are ... Like my thoughts are...... the crap spewn about is the regurgitation of my mental chaos. But this is real - not Memorex.

And you might wonder why I would just now bring this up? Misdirection, my good friend, misirection. See, you had already forgot about this. End of report.

It might be time for a break

Well, ya'll as I spent almost my entire workin' day bloggin' 'bout all that great stuff ya'll was writin' on ya'll's blogs, I find myself plumb tuckered out. I counted 21 entries prior to this one, so this one makes 22, and outta all that hard work I got a total of 6 comments and 5 pings. However, I seemed to be gettin a goodly amount of visitors so I am very hopeful I was sendin' loads of traffic ya'll's way.

I wanna just sign off and go watch some idiot box or somethin', but I feel compelled to say somethin' 'bout those bloggers who come in and take over when the blog founder ain't doin' the job. I am sure ya'll think I am talkin' 'bout Windrider, huh? Nope, I was just thinkin' how much more fun Madfish Willie is havin playin' with kangaroos than I ever did.

So what is this about everyone likin' Cherry's Navel Gazin' post so much better than mine? Oh, well, I have to be the first to admit that the navel she put up for our enjoyment was one humdinger of a fine navel. My navel looks like a hole in an ol' sack of taters if ya squint just right, but there was no mistakin' what it was that Cherry put up for view.

Anyway, I am gonna dart off and do somethin' else. Prolly won't be nowhere near as enjoyable as sittin' here sharin' my every inane thought with ya'll, but it will be different. Sometimes ya just gotta have different, unless ya are married, of course. Then ya ain't supposed to even think different.

I think ya'll are startin' to get the idea that I am always pretty weary when I finally get around to postin' my Nightly Navel Gazin' Report™, ain't ya? I mean, what with the incoherent ramblin' that seems to fill each night's report, ya'll gotta get the idea that it is time to defrag my brain. Belly button is fine under the buttons. End of report.

[UPDATE: Did I forget to mention that Susie seems to not have liked a single one of my captions. I mean, I never do well on these caption contests anyway, but I thought Susie was my friend and would at least throw me a bone, even if it was a little one. I actually only did this bit of bellyachin' because Cherry seems to enjoy it so.]

I believe it is 'bout ready to blow

Yep, there does appear to be some seismic activity near the area of my navel this evenin'. It seems those fried pork skins that I scarfed down earlier are havin' a bubblin' good time fermentin' in my stomach acid. There is some strange and eerie rumblin' to be heard some distance away from the source. I wish I could record it, though, for I am sure there is a hidden message there to be deciphered. The rhythmic rumblin's are too melodic to be random, I am sure.

What, you just don't have a clue as to the purpose of navel gazin'? No worry, 'cause it seems that neither does Jon Crowcroft who has created a slide show just to show how ignorant he is on the subject.

Me, I know all about it. Ya find a navel and ya gaze at it and ya let your thoughts drift to that part of your brain where the strange thoughts dwell. What? You don't have a part of your brain where strange thoughts dwell? Well then, what good are ya? My oh my, where have we gone tonight? Too far? Maybe we ought to just end this report, ya think? Yeah, me too. End of report.

Oddities of a different sort or maybe not that odd -- you call it

I liked the navel that Cherry provided us to gaze upon. I would gladly do that in person if provided the opportunity, the navel havin' such a delectable appearance. My navel is washed, dried, perky and ready for me to tuck it in for the night. I venture that such will be done fairly shortly so that I can arise a bit early tomorrow so as to get ready for my trial. I am so ready, I am almost sure that such case will be continued to a later date.

I missed all the good FOX shows after the football games because I went to the office to prepare a few things so as to increase my readiness for the trial, so again, my professional life has gotten in the way of my needs. Oh well, the sacrifices we must make so as to do our Constitutional duties must take precedence over any other thing in our lives, don't ya think?

I think I ate too much today. I am convinced that cigarettes have an appetite suppressant in them and now that I am not gettin' my daily dose of such, I am hungry all the time. I seem to be on the Anti-Atkins diet, crammin' carbs like they are goin' outta style or somethin'. Hopefully this passes, or I am gonna have to think about another problem I need to fix to make myself better.

Yep, the ever growing quest for perfection - it is a burden I bear - for if you cease the quest to improve yourself, you cease to live in any meaningful manner, doncha?

Maybe I ought to take my inane ramblin' self to bed. Hopefully my dreams will be less muddled than my final effort at bloggin' today.

I have noticed that that thingy I added a couple of days ago has ceased to function correctly. I am suspicious that it is all my fault for havin' displayed the graphic and so many of ya'll havin' gone to donate your services in such effort. If you have found yourself blocked from what you feel is your duty in such regard, please do feel free to email me directly.

Did I mention that my navel was fine? Of course, I did. End of report.

Gazing from a different perspective

Seems there has been a lot of bellyaching on this blog recently, so I thought for a change, we could all gaze at a different navel.

It's been almost four months since I last came visiting, and I thought that seein' as I had managed to aquire a navel pic for you all, I might come crashing through again and show ya'll.

Tig has run outta ideas... You know he's gettin' really desperate when he starts consulting the dictionary for ideas!!!

Or in the words of our ***: SIMPLY PATHETIC!

It's only temporary

Yep, finally got my smile back without the hillybilly crack, but the fix is only temporary.

My navel is fine, I am naked as a jaybird and goin' to bed. I do want to thank all ya'll for droppin' by today and especially Kate for recognizin' me on her blog in her weekly Snark Hunt. I would love to hang around and share more personal news with ya'll, but I am pretty tired. I guess seein' 11 out of 12 people I needed to see and spendin' 2.5 hours at a dental office was more than sittin' and watchin' a 3 hour good movie could fix. Of course, if ya remember, I was already pretty tuckered out for the week yesterday.

I am thinkin' of doin' somethin' special tomorrow. I guess we shall see.

Some thoughts of late that I been havin'

Ya know, I am not sure if it is 'cause I can't sit here and chain smoke while things come to my mind or just 'cause I finally figured out I am an ignorant dufus who should have been chained up in someone's basement a long time ago ... 'cause for some reason I am havin' a really hard time findin' time just to stare at a computer screen for most of the day. 'Course, yesterday, it was cold as [I really want to say "Hell" but it ain't cold there] Hillary Clinton's heart around here so findin' a warm spot seemed to have been my primary motivation. Thankfully it has warmed up just a bit to just as cold as Rush Limbaugh's heart, which is tolerable enough for me to sit here starin' mindlessly at a computer screen without chatterin' teeth.

So, bloggin' can be done with a minimum of physical discomfort. Why do I feel so unmotivated to write about anythin'? The damned blue funk is supposed to be over already. I don't feel withdrawn, just uninterested in sharin' my inane thoughts about crap other than my mundane personal universe right at the moment. If I don't at least do that, I have discovered that ya'll worry too much about me.

So, let's see navel ... doin' well. My back is still achin' and has been for a couple of weeks now. I stopped by a chiropractor's office today, but didn't set an appointment. Mostly a shortage of time. My knee is also a bit sore from yesterday. I forgot to tell ya about when I got up to go to the bathroom in the cold cold night night* before last and in my rush to get back to the bed in the dark somehow strongly slammed my left kneecap into the door frame. I am gonna share somethin' very personal, I cussed George** loudly when that happened. It still hurts now, just to give ya some feelin' of what it felt like when it occurred. I quickly hobbled back to that waitin' warm bed where I lay mutterin' to myself about how bad my knee hurt for a good half hour before I fell back asleep.

Now, seriously ... was there anythin' I could'a blogged 'bout that would have interested ya as much as that? Pick any other subject other than myself and my thoughts about crap, and someone has already done a much better job of bloggin' 'bout it than me. And, to tell ya the truth, I would really rather ya were comin' here because ya was laughin' at how funny I look in that picture up there. Ya know, I am gettin' to the bottom of this and am without a clue as to where I was goin' with this post, so if it don't make a whit of sense, ignore it.

*If ya say it out loud, it really does make sense.

**I often consider that people who have not been readin' this blog forever are without a clue as to the identity of George.

It is so cold ---

How cold is it? It is cold enough to make me want to forego almost anythin' just to find somewhere warm for awhile. I am thinkin' of lookin' through my movies and findin' one worth watchin' and then puttin' it in the bedroom VCR so that I can entertain myself while buried under that nice layer of goose down. In fact, I am thinkin' I ought to break the other comforter out as well, just so I have enough goosedown piled on top of me to make sure I am warm. We do have to keep that navel in superb shape, ya know, otherwise there would be nothin' to report 'bout in these Nightly Navel Gazin' Reports™, would there? It is, however, gonna be a bit difficult to report on the condition of my navel this evenin' as it is just a bit too cold for the navel to make any type of appearance where I could possibly gaze at it for awhile. I might have a chance later, upon the goosedown layerin' but I almost positive that there will be no way I am thereafter expose it to frigid air just so I can report on its condition. Well, tell ya what, if I find it in anythin' other than satisfactory condition, I will indeed come back and update this report. If there is no later update, allow that to be your sign that the navel is in great shape.

Now, for a report on somethin' very strange that occurred today, read the extended entry.

I got this call this afternoon from someone. They said, "Hi, this is gave their name, and I need to make amends to you." I said, "Huh? Who is this again?" "Uh, this is gave their name, don't you remember me? We were married about ten years ago." All of a sudden, that first name wormed its way into my recollection, the last name was new, of course. Anyway, we chatted for a bit, mostly about how her mother was found raped and murdered two years ago and about how the kids were now half grown. Not mine, of course, as I still have no kids. Anyway she wanted to meet with me to apologize or somethin'. She ain't gonna ever be able to fix what she broke, but I will let her try. I suspect she is in some 12 step program. I seem to recall that makin' amends to all the people you damaged is part of the plan, so I suspect that is the purpose of the contact. When I told my secretary who it was I had been talkin' to, she said maybe my ex had wanted to get back together with me. I quickly informed her that such was not even a possibility. If you noticed, I did not even mention this person's name, as they have been solely referred to by me for almost a decade solely by the designation of CHB. The C stands for Cold and the H stands for Hearted. I will let you figure out what the B means.

Peek-a-boo

Hey, ya'll been jonsin' for a navel report? Hmmm, navel is not as interested in my visitors as another part of my body is. I will let ya figure that out for yourself - it ain't hard.* I am goin' to bed havin' completed my fifth complete day of not havin' taken a single puff a cigarette. My navel loves it in my bed. It stays very warm there. My navel likes it where it is warm. I think that is why all those little fuzzy black** hairs are down there: to keep that navel warm.

{Update: I forgot to officially end the report. End of report.]

*No pun originally intended, but in retrospect, I am takin' credit for it after all.

**I am not absolutely sure there is not a gray hair or two in the mix, though.

Oh my, what did I start here?

I sat around most of the day with my thumb up my ass with a very important decision to be made: Should I download 4,000 free smileys or not? I mean don't you just hate havin' to make hard choices like that. Here I was ponderin' my need for all of those smileys, and just dreamin' of all the uses I had for smilies. Then I remembered that I seldom use smilies anyway. I seldom smile in real life either. Nope, that would mean exposin' my teeth and ya'll know how self conscious I am about that gap when that one chipped off. I finally concluded that I was not gonna download a whole bunch of smilies until all of the ones showin' teeth displayed such with one chipped tooth in front. Ya'll gotta remember the tagline. Here on this blog, we do our very best in tryin' to represent the truth on every side of each inane matter that comes to our attention. We have a high standard for smilies to be used on this blog. The only currently approved smilies are ;) and :) .

OK, OK, I am sorry for all the foregoin'. I know it is too much to take, but it was not my fault, I swear. The navel made me do it.* End of report.

*Ya gotta be pretty old if ya caught the veiled Laugh-In pun in that line. You can bet your bippy that was done on purpose.

It might take awhile to get my sea legs back

OK, now ya'll might be wonderin' why I am sittin' here wearin' Bermuda shorts ... I am not sittin' here wearin' Bermuda shorts, so what are ya doin' tellin' them that ... hey they can't see, so what difference does it make if I say I am sittin' here in Bermuda shorts ... well, doesn't that tagline say somethin' about gettin' to the truth ... OK, ya got me there ... excuse me, but after havin' lost an argument with myself, I have to admit I am not here wearin' Bermuda shorts. And since I see that the conversation between a couple of the various personalities that inhabit my brain has mysteriously appeared for your pleasure, I guess I have to disclose the purpose of sayin' I was sittin' in Bermuda shorts, don't I? OK, the truth! I look absolutely horrendous in Bermuda shorts, but since ya'll couldn't possibly know that, I thought your vision of me in Bermuda shorts might be a more pleasant sight than actually seein' me in Bermuda shorts. OK, now that you have found your way through all of that, are you 100% absolutely sure it was such a good idea for me to have resumed bloggin' after my brief hiatus? Surely there can be no place in the blogosphere for anythin' as inane as what just occurred, is there? I feel naked all of a sudden, and vulnerable. I think maybe I ought to just go crawl into that little space between the toilet and bathroom cabinet and curl up into a fetal position and breath in the aromatic bathroom fumes or somethin'.

Alas, I must lift my sweater and shirt and peer into the shadows to see if my navel is doin' fine. It appears that it is in excellent condition, is restin' comfortably and I shall endeavor to no further disturb it. Navel is fine, ya got that? End of report.

At long last, I finally found it

Well, it seems I have relocated my navel with seems to have been misplaced over these past few days, hence why there was no report. No navel to gaze upon, no report. Logical, huh? Hey, these reports are nothing, if not logical. Anway, I am sitting here naked as a jaybird, having just run a nice tub of hot water to go soak in to get my muscles and bones bed ready. The navel looks quite perky. I suppose it is from all the fan mail that was awaiting it after it was finally located. I suppose I should thank all of ya'll on behalf of the navel, since it has not yet mastered the art of keyboarding. In fact, despite my greatest efforts, it has still not attained the ability to communicate in any manner. I might need to do further navel research. Anyone know of a good navel research facility? Well, until further info is known, I suppose it is necessary to close this investigation into proper navel communication. End of report.

Lookin' for somethin' to tilt against

Oh well, there seem to be too few windmills in my personal adventure, so I have to tilt against whatever obstacle I can find. The trouble is that the only obstacle I find is that no one recognizes my dilemma, or if they do, they don't care. It is not like I really blame them all that much. I am sure that I would feel likewise if I placed myself in their shoes. Am I over-concerned about my life? I mean - isn't one's existence pretty meaningless anyway. Are we not all just another number in the billions and billions of other being that inhabit this planet? How many of the billions alive at this very moment are going to make monumental changes in anythin' anyway? I know I am not. I was so hopin' my children would. I am just still lookin' for those children. Alas! Blue funk.

This post seemed to displease my navel. It seems to have a severe distaste for philosophy. If my navel could voice its preference, I am sure it would choose that I discuss those things that give me belly laughs. My navel seems to enjoy it when my belly quivers. End of report.

The shortest day of the year

Today was the shortest day of the year, and I think I slept almost all day. I am weary as all give out, not from physical exhaustion, but just the way the Blue Funk envelops me and drains me of any motivation to take part in anythin'. Thankfully such will pass, I am almost sure, as such has occurred over the last decade. Yes, maybe one of these days, I will again have a family to surround me and give me reason to celebrate. Until then, I can find no reason to do so. Forgive my mood, but it ain't your fault. It ain't anyone's fault. I can't stop it - well, not without some drugs, but I ain't gonna go to the doctor and tell him I am depressed because I am alone during the holidays. That is just silly.

My navel, however, is basking. The rest seems to have done it well. Still, I am almost as sure my navel would be happier with another navel in the picture than it is without. Or maybe it wouldn't. It is hard to tell such things when the navel can't speak. I cannot ever even distinguish whether or not it is smilin'. I just make a lot of assumptions about how it feels. I apologize for that. End of report.

The ever encompassin' blue funk

I just did not feel up to doin' anythin' much today. I did read Opus so as to do today's report and watched the Cowboys defeat the Giants, as I predicted. Other than that, I have mostly napped a lot. I may be this way for awhile. Do not alarm yourselves or worry 'bout me. This is a regular holiday occurrence that I have become accustomed to over this previous decade wherein Santa has continually failed to bring me what I need and desire.

I suppose if I can find time to read Opus, I must make time to look at my navel and report to ya'll great fans of my navel how my navel is doin'. Well, OK, I have lifted up my shirt and see that the navel appears unharmed by the days activity of mostly sittin' in a chair watchin' TV and layin' in the bed nappin'. Of course, I did not find this surprisin' but have no idea how your might react to such news. React as you please. End of report.

The very long day

Well, I am happy to report that I did finally see The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King and just returned home from that adventure. It was actually quite an adventure, as I left her at about 1:00 to travel to a 12 screen theater which was showin' the movie on two screens. I arrived about 2:30 pm to the theater. The next two showings were already sold out, so I just purchased a ticket to the next showing that was not sold out. That was how I requested my ticket. It was for the 7:00 pm showin'. The ticket lady was kind enough to advise me that the 7:00 pm showin' was likely to sell out also, so to return by 6:00 so as to get in line for seatin'. Still, I had several hours to wait. I perused the other movies to see if there was anythin' I cared to see that I could slip into durin' my wait, but saw nothin' all that interestin'. Instead, I drove next door to On the Border, a local Tex-Mex chain and sat in the bar drinkin' frozen margaritas and eating chips, salsa, queso and quesadillas until half time in the KC - Minnesota game and drove back over to the theater. There were already a large number of people in the seatin' line, so I took my place in the end of it. It grew much longer before it ever moved. My gut was full, the tequila was makin' me woozy, and I had some ragin' heartburn that was bubblin' like crazy. Finally the line moved and I was easily able to secure a seat for one in the center of the very back row. I sat there with my stomach bubblin' through endless previews and crap then the movie started. I watched it, enjoyed it, and got up to leave. I had not bought a soda or any popcorn, I had not had to go to the restroom, and I was not feelin' a desperate urge to go at the end, but I did anyway. I then headed home, makin' one stop for a refill of my DP cup and for a roll of antacid. The fixed the heartburn and the DA was refreshin'. Now, for some reason, I am bushed.

There has been a paltry number of visitors durin' the day, even accountin' for it bein' Saturday. My navel was unhappy when it learned of the lack of visitation, as it was his post that was the sole post of the day. I assumes it has a great number of fans. End of report.

Oops, it is already daylight

Sorry, but I fell asleep after consumin' a goodly portion of nog. I ran out of the blended stuff and ended up mixin' some rum into the last couple of glasses. I could already feel the rum induced headache comin' on. Rum always gives me a headache, bein' it is so full of impurities. I avoid drinkin' it as much as possible, mainly because after I learned how it was made and that it is basically made out of a bunch of garbage left over from processin' the sugar out of sugar cane which is leeched with lye to extract the last bit of sugar. The more impurities in the alcohol, the greater the chance you get a hangover headache. It is not the alcohol that causes the headaches, it is the impurities. I get the worst headaches from drinkin' brandy or cognac. Anyway my head is still poundin' so bad I can't see my navel. I was able to see it before fallin' asleep last evenin' but it was blurry ... or at least my vision of it was blurry. End of report.

Blah Humbug!

As it gets closer, my sense of dread grows stronger. My navel remains stalwart and strong during this time of inner-psyche driven adversity. Aren't we all glad of that? End on extraordinarily inane report.

News Flash: No one reads blogs on Wednesday

and I somehow feel like goin' to bed at 8:00 pm. Blue funk fatigue, I am sure. Can't wait until the after everyone else gets kissed on New Years Eve, then I am up until about Feb. 1 when Valentine's season rolls around. I might have been one of few who actually understood why Gary Stewart took his own life. Loneliness mixed with sorrow is a dangerous combination. He shoulda just flown to Vegas and married some cheap floozie.

Anyway, not findin' all that much to blog 'bout and not wantin' to waste your time by postin' an endless series of drivel (oops, sorry Denita, Willie said he had to attend a function), so without further ado, I hereby present my navel for your inspection: ( . ) End of report.

It's that time again

OK, so I post all this bloggy goodness for ya'll to see, and all you want to know is how is my navel. Ya'll are a sick bunch, ya are. Oh well, now I gotta go start workin' on workin' up a good hangover for in the mornin' (/not). Thanks for bein' you and lettin' me be me, and come see me again! Driftin' off with strains of Tiptoein' through the Tulips by Tiny Tim . . . . .

What can I blog about?

I am not sure yet if I have succumbed to the blue funk, but I have been readin' some blogs. It seems I have not hit on a thing to blog about. This seems like a good time to gander at the navel, see if all is fine, then report that all is fine with the navel. End of report.

A jaybird ain't got nutnin' on me now

Yep, just sittin' here in my altogether after havin' sat in a hot bath for about the last half hour or so. I am nice and relaxed. My stomach is rounded and the navel sits squarely in the middle of the bulge. It breaks up the curved expanse and somehow makes the shape less pronounced. Or maybe I am just wishin' so. End of report.

Gosh, it's so hard

Wow, since last time I posted, I have had the most bizarre experience. Well, maybe not all that bizarre. Hmmm, can ya call takin' an impromptu nap an experience? Oh well, that is just it. I was just feelin' a bit tired so I decided to lay down and I fell right to sleep. I must have been worn out. Anyway, I just awoke to find my navel all sweaty and clammy.

I was drivin' through the Badlands of South Dakota and was gettin' really thirsty. So I decided to go find somethin' to drink. I saw a sign that said Free Ice Water but it failed to give any directions as to how to get to it, just that it was at Wall Drug. I drove about endlessly attemptin' to find anyone who could give me directions to Wall Drug. I finally spotted a sign that told me I was enterin' the city limits of a little town. It seems I had finally stumbled across the border to Wall, South Dakota. It was a hot day and Wall Drug was packed with tourists on their way to or back from Yellowstone NP or any of the Black Hills resorts so I was forced to wait in line for the ice water. I was just gettin' to the front of the line when I awoke. I need desperately to go get somethin' to drink and then I think I am gonna go back to bed. There was a cute girl with a wicked smile there at Wall Drug that kept givin' me a come hither look.

Feelin' a bit worse for wear

Gosh, ya'll folks are just too kind comin' here readin' my crap even though there has been so little bloggin' activity durin' the day. Not gonna be much tonight either as I have been nursin' an excrutiatin' headache for most of the day which seems to worsen more and more as the day progresses. I am gonna go do my best to euthanize the damn thing so that I can fall asleep. Wish me luck, and see ya when the head stops poundin'. I am gonna appreciate in advance all your good feelin's 'bout me. Go vote for me. Navel is of no concern to my poundin' head, so no gazin' gonna take place. End of report.

Comin' time to call it a night

Hey, tomorrow is Friday, so get up bright and early because the Friday Funny™ will be posted as soon as I arise. I am hopeful that I will actually undress before hittin' the hay this evenin' unlike my decision last night to just jump in bed with all my clothes on. Heck, though, it was really cold. Even though you can get quite comfy under a layer of goose down, it don't start out that way and the thought of crawlin' into that bed and lettin' my mostly naked body collide with those ice cold bed clothes (as my great-granny used to call sheets and such) was more than I could take, so when the time came, I shucked off my boots, pulled back the covers and jumped in clothes and all.

It actually assisted me, however, to awaken fully dressed this mornin' as I overslept a bit and was runnin' late. However, as all that was necessary was for me to pull my boots back on and to wet my hair and comb it to rid myself of the bed head look, I was out the door in record time. I walked into the courtroom just as my one and only case was bein' called before the bench. Perfect timin'. That took all of about and hour and fifteen minutes of my time and I was back on the road home. I stopped by the house to take care of an essential matter that shall not be discussed, then off to the office where I had a lazy afternoon mostly bloggin' on the high band connection,

So, here is hopin' ya'll enjoyed the fare I offered today as much as I enjoyed what I saw on those blogs I read. Those of ya'll way on the bottom of the blogroll need to start usin' that blogrollin' ping page I told ya'll about previously. I just can't seem to get down below about number 50 on any consistent basis and I know some of ya'll are postin' some good stuff, but without pingin' and moving yourself to the top of the list, I ain't seein' it. It ain't that I don't want to, it is just that there is so few minutes in the day that I can devote to blog readin' and readin' those I know have somethin' new to see seems the only logical way to go. So ping blogrollin' so I know you got somethin' new.

Susie, I read your comment and will try to email that info to you tomorrow.

So, navel, navel, what can I say? Its still there. End of report.

A plethora of postin' blew by tonight

Hey ya'll! After a dearth of interestin' things to blog about yesterday, ya'll we all full of bloggy goodness today! I just kept findin' more and more things to blurb 'bout as I kept readin' all ya'll's great bloggin' efforts this eveinin'. What might have made it a bit better woulda been if I had had more time to blog when I was at the office on speed band, but nope, had to wait until after I was off work and sittin' here in the cold with my connection dyin' time and time again. Oh well, just kept warm postin', didn't I? I see the visitation topped 140 for the day, but I am still needin' those votes.

Well, the big belly dilemma of last night did pass, as I knew it would. Today's sustenance intake was slim, and thusly, so is the seat of the navel this evenin'. As such, the navel is calm and sittin' in its most splendid situation and still just wishin' it could find a companion navel with which to closely snuggle. Havin' no such opportunity, it clamors to nestle itself under a head of cotton covered goose down and get as warm and comfortable as possible. I think it has a wonderful idea, and may accompany it when it so chooses to nestle. It may be that such time is now. Just in case that be the case, I end this report.

Consciously unconscious

Maybe it is me, or maybe it is just a slow day, but I have read several blogs and found nothin' all that interestin' that I wanted to comment about, so I am just gonna give up for the night. I am not feelin' all that well, anyway. I suspect it is nothin' serious. I think maybe I ate a little too much, havin' had a large tub of popcorn that I ate while watchin' the movie and then stopped and had dinner on the way home. I suspect everythin' will pass sooner or later. My belly is stretched a bit so my navel is exposed like it belonged to some beer-bellied redneck. End of report.

Lite Bloggin' Warnin'

Yep, gotta cut the inanity short this evenin' 'cause I got a day from Hell tomorrow, what with havin' a docket in two courts 20 miles apart at the same time in the mornin', and then havin' a dental appointment 50 miles away in the afternoon. I see my wonderment from last night's report drew absolutely no response, so I suppose I will not ask the question on my mind tonight.

The navel is as well as can be considerin' it is ridin' on a bloated belly. Seems I ate more pecans than I should have. End of report.

Still searchin' for a clue

I am amazed at how I could have posted somethin' as controversial as this and not have gotten a single comment or mention or whatever. I often wonder if anyone gets beyond the first line before they decide I am so full of crap that they need to pay no mind to anythin' I say. To them I say, Hey, I got a good lookin' navel though! Hang around until closin' time and I might let ya have a look.

The votin' is still goin on and I am into the double digits now, but a long way from first, second, third, fourth, fifth or sixth place. I don't need but about 10 votes or so to get up into seventh place. I really ain't worried 'bout it, just bothers me that the ones in first, second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth place are not on my blogroll. Maybe they should be.

So, those of ya'll that hung around to the final bell -- are ya ready to see the navel? Well ya better be makin' your plane reservations, 'cause it is somethin' that is only available in person. If ya was lookin' for a photo, hit the category link and scroll. I think there might still be one or two photos of my navel in some of the earlier entries. However, I am gazin' at it right now, and it ain't lookin' like all that. End of report.

I just can't bear to watch

I mean, I really did not expect to win the Best Large Mammal award, but the top six are unknown to me, and it is not like I don't read enough blogs to have run across some mention of these supposed very popular blogs at some point or another. Kevin says there is some hanky-panky goin' on in the votin' also. LGF was one of the blogs that was affected by the cheaters and as I previously mentioned, the top vote getter in the Large Mammal votin' is a LGF designed blog. Coincidence? Who knows.

Still, despite whether the playin' field is fair or not, I am still runnin' dead last in the votin'. That is not an enjoyable sight for me, so I am gonna give up poll watchin' for now and just go watch a movie.

Before I go, however, I will let ya know a few things that were changed on the blog today: I changed my photo 'cause Susie* said she thought that picture made me look more distinguished. I added Bloggers with Boobies to the Honorarium list. I also added both Note-It Posts and Buzzstuff to the Blogroll.

Denita is gettin' into the Christmas spirit, but I wish I had someone to come decorate my place and had some worries about my child pullin' stuff off the Christmas tree. Of course, I would need a child first, or would I need the Christmas tree first? Is this one of those chicken/egg dilemmas? I ain't gonna go there.

Envision, if you will, a navel surrounded by soft black hairs. You are gazin' deeply at it and you are gettin' sleepy. You are gettin' very sleepy. You are asleep. GO VOTE GOR ***: RAGGIN' & RANTIN' IN THE LARGE MAMMAL CATERGORY ON THE 2003 WEBLOG AWARDS. I am now gonna count to three, and on three you will awake and remember nothing except the instructions you were given. One ... two ... three. End of report.

*Link is not relevant to discussion and is just a routine linky-love trackback.

I give up because I can't remember the title

OK, now that Denita, my one very loyal almost always reads every bit of crap I write reader has come by, I can now say that I have probably drank enough bourbon to sound just like Acidman, there is no way I could ever look that ugly, sorry, and damn if I have not had to backspace to fix all those bad keyboardin' mistakes ... oop, forgive me but I need to go piss ... now, I am back and where the Hell was I anyway ... oh, somethin' about how ugly Acidman is or somethin' like anyone gives a damn anyway .... anyway, I am out of eggnog, but still have few ounces of bourbon in the plastic bottle ... damn, I forgot where I am, who I am, or some shit like that. Hey what is the title of this damn post anyway? Anyone got any idea who the Hell I am? Where the fuck are my pants, and what the fuck am I doin' runnin' around naked when there is no one else around? George, will someone come shoot me, because I am thinkin' I am goin' crazy? I just looked in the mirror and I swear I saw someone else lookin' back at me. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I be a'floatin' along

Well I am awash with the euphoria of a most titillatin' conversation and have no inclination to concern myself with the condition of my navel. End of report.

Catchin' mice barehanded

Yes, I did it. I actually caught a mouse. Of course, I was barehanded, but I didn't touch the mouse. See, I had eaten this bag of microwave popcorn last night and dropped the bag with a few unpopped kernels remainin' in the trash, only I missed and it fell along side the trash can. The trash can is right next to the chair I sit in when I am bloggin'. Well, I kept hearin' this screechy-scratchy thing goin' on and happened to see that little mouse run out of that bag. I continued to blog and then heard the screechy-scratchy noise again and quick as a flash snatched up that bag and squeezed the top shut, catchin' that little mouse inside. I then took it out and let it go onto the porch. Comanche chased it, but I think it got away. With my luck, the little varmit figured out how to get in here once, so I will likely have to battle him again tomorrow. I guess I will have to go invest in some mouse bait and poison the little critters. I really hate to do that, but a good rat snake is hard to find.

I really do want to thank the 9 of you who took the time to visit my blog and the 7 of you who actually read some of my crap. Just knowin' that there is such a nice trickle of readership that enjoys my writin' makes it all worthwhile. Of course, nothin' seems to impress my navel. It just sits silently without utterin' a peep about anythin' that goes on. I stare and stare at it tryin' to make sense of things and that navel never moves, well, except for a joyful jiggle from time to time if somethin' mirthful tickles it. It is gettin' quite borin' though lookin' at the same navel night after night, so I thought about paintin' it. I went down to the hardware store and would you believe that they did not have a single can of Navel Orange paint? I heard there was some law under the terms of the Patriot Act that you were not allowed to paint navels any other color.

Now, I didn't even understand any of the foregoin' so if you did, I would be absolutely amazed. I just ain't got nothin' more to give this evenin' so --- end of report.

I am just too tired to look

Yes, I know ya'll have heard this before, but I am really tired after havin' a really busy day then fightin' this sucky dailup connection to read blogs and to publish the crap I found time to write, so I think I am gonna go to bed. By the way, I want to thank all ya'll that submitted stuff in my request for feedback, but I guess I did not make myself clear. I was askin' more about he various elements I have scattered here and there, like the Tagline, the Rating, the line about my Dr. Pepper fuel that keeps my brain workin', the Logo, the Honorium, the Translater box, the Hit Parade, and other elements like that. Of course, I cannot complain about what I did receive, because I am always tryin' to give my readers what they want.

Oh, Susie, I want to thank you for nominatin' me for Best Large Mammal Blog, like surely a large mammal like a Tiger should do well, but I doubt that I will get very high in the votin'. I guess what pains me so much is that no one even nominated me in the humor category. That kinda hurts, ya know. It seems when people think of humorous bloggers, they seldom give much thought about how many times they have gotten a chuckle out somethin' I put up. Oh well, I can always just take pride in the fact that I am better lookin' than that Rob guy.

My navel is fried, or at least it looks that way through my glazed over eyes. So, off I go into the dark black slumber. End of report.

Turnin' the tables

OK, tonight I think I wanna get some feedback. I want the readers to let me know what feature of this blog they like the best. Come on, let me here what ya like. And just to give ya a bit of incentive, let me inform ya that I am holdin' a gun to my navel, and if'n ya'll don't rush in with a lot of comments, I am liable to blow a dent in my belly. Light inanities expected. End of report.

Worn down and frazzled to the bone

Yes, feelin' a bit exhausted, likely nothin' serious, just a drastic lack of sleepin' and not eatin' all that well durin' the holiday road trip. I suspect that with another good night's sleep, all will be as well as can be expected from this agin' body when that much older sun rises tomorrow.

My visitation rate fell into the crapper* when I was on the road. My navel seems to be wholly unconcerned. More to come, just not tonight. End of report.

*Speakin' of crappers, mine overflowed today. I hate that more than anythin' other type of episode that can occur in the bathroom that does not involve a personal injury of some sort.

Postin' dead from home

Well, not really dead, just tired as heck from drivin' home. Let's see, I left yesterday about 3:00 pm and got home at 10 pm today. What is that, 31 hours for drivin' 1750 miles? And if you delete the 6 hours I slept, 3 hours in two different Rest Stops, that means I was averagin' at 300 miles for each hour? Now, wait, I must be too tired to do math, because I know I was only drivin' at say 80 to 85 mph most of the time, I know I never went over 100, even if I was tryin' to pass someone at any time, so how could I have gone 300 miles an hour, especially since I know I had to stop for at least 10 minutes nearly ever hour to fill my cup, drain my bladder, and sometimes to fill my gas tank. Hmmm, I need some sleep. Be back tomorrow, I hope.

Jeez, after being some where really warm, I am almost sorry I came home, as it is cold here. Brrrr. End of report.

Hello from ***!

Hey ya'll, this is your intrepid reporter, somewhere in Key Largo. After two days of travelin', I am close to my destination. Of course, I missed seein' the Everglades on the way down because it was too dark by the time I got here. However, now that I know how long it takes to go one way, I know I have plenty of time to travel around all day tomorrow before headin' home, besides, if I do like I usually do, I will just stay on the road all the way home, maybe stoppin' at a couple of rest stops to rest my eyes for a few hours. I likely can make it home in abou 24 hours drivin' all the way through.

So, I thought I did great in packin', but I forgot to bring either one of my digital cameras. Of course, it is not that big of a problem. I suppose I could take pictures with my cell phone or I can just drop by Walmart, if I can find one, and buy another one. I suppose you can never have too many digital cameras, huh? I have several 35mm cameras around the house I never use at all, so I guess I can add a couple of digital cameras to that collection.

Well, it is late and I need to get some rest havin' been on the road for almost two days. I did not eat all that well today. For some reason, it seems all the restaurants on the Interstate were closed for some reason. I missed eatin' any turkey and dressin', like I was really all that worried about such. Of course, I would have loved to have some tacos or a hamburger or somethin'. As it was, I had two bags of peanuts, a bag or chesse crackers, some beef jerkey, and finally a Philadelphia Cheese Steak sandwich I got a one of the Service Stops on the Toll Road down here, possibly the worst Philadelphia Cheese Steak sandwich I have ever eaten in my life. Still, it might be better than what I had yesterday: one bag of Cracker Jacks. Thankfully, I have been very well supplied with fountain Dr. Pepper except for at one stop, where I had to settle for fillin' my cup with ice and buying a bottle to fill my cup.

As for the navel, I saw it this mornin' in Pensacola where I stopped last night. I seems to be enjoyin' the trip, 'cause it was lookin' pretty rosy. I am sorry 'bout not bein' able to post last night, as I was actually lookin' for a place in Biloxi, Mississippi about 8:30 pm. I even had a guy tell me where there was a cyber cafe but by the time I got there, they were shuttin' down for the night. I went to one of the biggest casinos there to see if there was someplace I could access the internet, but the guy sittin' behind the desk must be about the dumbest person I have ever met in several years. I tried to explain several times what I was lookin' for and he did not seem to have any understandin' at all. I am stayin' at the Marriott Inn here and they had a computer sittin' right here in the lobby for use to connect to the internet.

Well, let me get off of here and go see what is on HBO or somethin' Actually, I suspect I am gonna be scopin' out some of these really fine lookin' gals I see hangin' around the pool. End of report.

Wouldn't you know it!

OK, so here I am makin' all these plans for another of my spontaneous road trips, and I feel like I am comin' down with somethin'. As such, I think the best thing to do is to go to bed right now and hope what I am feelin' is just exhaustion from a long day. *

I had a hectic court session all mornin' with two of my cases involvin' very emotional females. I guess it is the male in me, but George, why is that some women have to get so damn weepy eyed over every little thing that does not go their way. I have no problem with ladies cryin' over the death of loved one, even if it is just a cat, or when someone gets married, or over somethin' really sentimental, or even if they get their feelin's hurt. What gets to me is when they cry because they have to plead guilty to a crime they admit they committed, especially after I worked my ass off to convince the DA to give them a lenient sentence. Crap like that drains me, I tell ya. I then spent the afternoon gettin' out some correspondence and readin' the accumulated email. I prepared a message for my answerin' machine to let ever'body know what to do if they really really needed to reach me and put a sign on the door with essentially the same info. I did spent just a moment or two showin' Heather around the office and explainin' what she would be required to do if she decides to accept the job I offered her at the rate I can pay. I need someone to wrangle that steady influx of paper that assails me on a daily basis. If someone does not stay on top of it, it will bury you pretty quickly. I also had to sign some contracts and get them sent off so hopefully I can get a cable connection on my office system. I expect such to save me about an hour a day and I can write off the expense on my taxes. I am still waitin' to see if I can get a WiFi connection on this system off of my friend's cable connection, but he is still workin' on boostin' the power sufficiently to transmit the 100 yards to my house. I usually have a fairly good dialup connection from the house, though, so the office is almost a must have.

I do find it amazin' how deflated I get to see numbers near where they were a few days ago after havin' had that steady influx of visitors from a link on a big dog site. Actually, I went through about two or three there over the end of last week and the weekend. Since the 20th, I have not had a daily visitation rate below 150, had three of those days above 300 and had rate on one of those days at 650. Of course, with the 1500 visitors over the last 4 days, I did not see all that many comments from anyone but my regular readers and was surprised to see the number of unique links on my ecosystem data had dropped by 7 links since yesterday. So, what I think I have seen is that a lot of people were seein' my site, a goodly number were actually readin' a goodly portion of the crap I had written for the last few days, but not many were sayin' anythin' about what they read, and none, as far as I can tell, chose to add my blog to their blogroll. I must wonder, however, if all of them or even a large portion of those readers are bloggers or are part of the ecosystem. I might actually have been linked on over 1000 new blogs or been bookmarked by 1000 readers and I will likely never ever know.

Anyway, the navel did peep its eye out for a peek today as the weather climbed into the high 50s and I took a quick gaze to examine its condition and, though you likely won't believe this, it looked essentially the same as when I last gazed upon it. Who woulda ever thunk that?

I really do thank each and every one of you who take the time to look through my daily offerin's. I know that no one is gonna like everythin' I write or agree with all I have to say. Thank George you don't have to.

*It likely was, 'cause I got a second wind and posted several blurbs after I penned this one.

You can hide, but you cannot escape this damn cold

Well, for the third night in a row, the navel has stayed concealed. I am beginnin' to think it has somethin' to do with deer huntin' season. It may just be that I do not know as much about my navel as I thought I did. Heck, now I am worried. I might just wake up tomorrow and find my left hand all covered in blood and my right hand missin' not knowin' that my left hand is a werehand and that the right is its intended victim. Wow, that brings new meanin' to the phrase one hand not knowin' what the other hand is doin'. It must be the chili bubblin' in my gut that has sent my thought processes through Bizarro Brain. If'n ya was interested in the number of visitors I got today, well it passed my current daily average figure of 240. Still was gettin' a multitude sent this way from Heriod's site, but they seemed to trickle off as the sun set. Musta been a good game on Monday Night Football or sumthin'. Well, that is about all I got to say on the subject this fine cold cold evenin'. See, us Texans figure that when it gets into the 30s here like it is right now, ya'll Yankees is plumb dumb for livin' that close to the North Pole. Me, I am gonna go crawl under two layers of goosedown and see if I can get the chili to stop gurglin' long enough to drop off. Got court in the morn, so if'n ya drop in and see nothin' new, I am at court. It is gonna be kinda funny havin' District Court in our little burg on Tuesday. Normally, both of the District Courts that cover our area sit on Wednesdays, but guess the Turkey Eatin' Festival planned for Thursday at various locations near you is affectin' court docketin'. I had come to the conclusion the first year I lived here and had a case set on December 26, that holidays did not figure into the schedulin' of courts in this area. Yes, I know, time to sit down and shut up. I guess I could do that, since ya asked me so nicely. End of report.

I don't think tonight is the night

Yep, I am pretty sure there is not gonna be any navel gazin' this evenin' 'cause the temperature has dropped so low I am pretty sure I am gonna crawl under the covers fully clothed. As such, the navel may go unobserved for the second night. I would do a tactile job on such, as I did last eve, but the tactile instruments are icy and I am almost sure the navel would feel such through the T-shirt. I shudder to think of that. I shiver to be sittin' here also, so think I am about to go to bed.

Uh, that blurb on Counterspin Central netted me a steady flow of visitors today. Total for the day was 650, 90% or more came from Hesiod's elegant recommendation.

Last thing before I go ... I really thought there would be more interest in this idea but it seems everyone either had no interest or it was overlooked by all. End of report.

They came and came and continued to come

Well, after all the people that IMAO sent my way yesterday, my daily visitation rate had jumped all the way up to 130. So today bein' Saturday, I was almost sure I would see it plummet when my normal 50 to 60 visitors dropped by, but viola, I actually hit 130, and then I saw the daily visitation number jump to 143. The endin' visitation rate for today was about 145. Now, I was wonderin' just where did all those visitors come from -- well I still got some trickle in from IMAO, maybe about 10 to 15% of the visitors showed to have been referred from that site. Amazingly enough, my blog was chosen as the blog of the day at this site. I did not see a great number of visitors referred from that location however, maybe 20 total durin' the day. The rest seem to come from those many blogrolls where my blog is listed. I am proud to know there were so many who find my writin' enjoyable. I really do.

Well, the meter has reset for another day, so it begins again. The magic number is 141 accordin' to my last look at the sitemeter, so here is hopin' 141 of ya'll visit tomorrow to see what other crappy inane remarks I can make about the news and the bloggers who bring it to light.

As for the mandatory navel examination, I gave it a tactile scopin' through my T-shirt and am convinced all is in order. As such, I shall end this report.

So, it's early - whatcha gonna do 'bout it?

Yes, I guess this week has worn me out. It seems I still have a lot to get done down at the office, so may have to poke my head in sometime this weekend. The navel is off visitin' with relatives for the weekend.* As such, it is just me and the dogs.

*Yes, I am actually discussin' my own navel, Mr. Belly Button himself. Consider the degree of utter mindlessness I must have utilized to have possibly conceived such a scenario.

Oops, almost forgot -- end of report.

I was checkin' back to see, if you was checkin' back on me

I just did a count of the number of other blogger's posts I linked to today and found that number to have been 16, whereas the number of posts I found on other blogs which linked back to posts on mine was 1? Thanks Kate! It makes me wonder if I spend much more time readin' other people's blogs and lookin' for the really great stuff they write and tryin' to get people to notice them than those who read all my stuff and find any of it worthwhile to point out on their blogs. Hmmm that time is very very valuable, you know. I could be spendin' it doin' what I am supposed to be doin' -- gazin' at my navel.

Oh well, I just make these inane observations. Crap don't change, and I keep doin' it hopin' one or two people get some enjoyment out of the crap I write. I think a lot of it is pretty funny, but then I am a strange person and likely have a strange sense of humor. Well, time for me to get to bed, so see ya! End of report.

Cuttin' a long day short

I had a couple of things to post about that I am gonna save for another time. After the day I have had, I am about pooped and am gonna call it a night. If'n ya haven't read through all the posts I made the last couple of days, there is a lot there that I was pretty proud of when it was posted, but as I have not read back over it today, I am not sure I am all that proud of such today. I will let you be the judge, but to be able to judge it, you likely need to read it. I will let you figure out where to go from here.

As for the navel, it is wishin' it had not been 'roused from its rest this morn and has been poutin' 'bout that all day. I just let it stew over the dilemma in silence. So enough with this inanity, off to your bed.

I hope ya'll will forgive me for not gettin' around to readin' all the great stuff ya'll got around to postin' today. I am sure I can catch up on what ya'll had to say 'bout the arrest of Michael Jackson tomorrow. Was there any other big news? End of report.

Hot and cold

The temperature has dropped several degrees in the last hour or two and it is quite chilly and yet, I am still a bit hot from the last situation I posted about. As such, my navel is either quiverin' or shiverin', I am not sure. As for the rest of me, I am alert and know I need to get to bed. I have overslept two days in a row.

I am a bit perplexed at why my numbers were so high yesterday and then were much lower today. Oh, they were not that bad, being just a bit above my daily average rate, but nowhere near the record numbers from last night. As I did not find that one of the big dogs had sent a ton of people my way last night, I was almost sure it was from the regularity of my postin' and attempted to mirror that tonight. I thought I did my part, but the numbers didn't do theirs. It is sure perplexin'. Oh well, I hope I don't lose any sleep worryin' about it.

I really like country songs*

Well, I don't know why Denita thought I was bein' sarcastic when I said how much I loved all ya'll. It was sincere. I mean I came home after not havin' posted much all day bein' so busy and all and already had more visitors than I had all day Saturday or Sunday. In fact, the day's total was about 145, which is a new non-Instalanche driven daily record as far as I can remember. I actually did try to go through some of my referral logs to see if one of the big dogs was sendin' people my way, but never did see any sign of such. Most of the visitation seemed to come in a certain two to three hour period when I was postin' lots and seemed that a lot of visitors were comin' off the recently updated listin' at MT Central. I am hopeful that I got a lot of new readers today.

I have gazed at the clock and seen that I have again stayed up much too late, so let me see if the navel is still awake. Nope, gazin' on a slumberin' navel, and don't it look so peaceful. Well, let me take it on to bed, and I suppose I will join it in a good night's sleep. Again I want to thank all my loyal readers for their patronage, and I really enjoyed havin' time this evenin' to visit 20 or more of ya'll's great blogs which were a delight to read. End of report.

*I heard this song on the radio durin' my latest DP run where some gal was singin' "ain't no way I goin' home with a wild turkey like you" or somethin' like that. I did try to search to find the complete lyrics to the song, but came up dry. It might be a new one, 'cause I don't remember ever hearin' that line before. The sure come up with some doozies in some of them country songs, don't they?

Too little, too late

Well, my Cowboys did not play all that bad, but surely not good enough to win. Still, they are makin' progress and that is more than could be said about them the last three years. Quincy didn't do all that badly, even though he had the interceptions, only one of them was really his fault. I still am not happy with the way Troy Hambrick is playin', although I noticed he did not fumble the ball this game. He just seems too easy to stop, like anyone gets in his way and he is stopped like he just hit a brick wall. Adrian Murrell keeps movin' his feet and seems to go a few yards further even after he is hit. Remember how Troy Hambrick said how he shoulda been playin' last year instead of Emmitt Smith? Well, when Emmitt Smith was the same age as Troy Hambrick is right now, every once in awhile, he would hit the hole and no one could lay a hand on him. He would outrun everyone for 60 yards for a touchdown! When are you gonna show us how you can do that, Troy?

Nope, the final score was 12-0. As usual, the defense played very well, and the offense was only mediocre. Quincy still has a lot to learn. I keep hearin' everyone comparin' him to Donovan McNabb, but I think he reminds me more of Roger Staubach. Like Roger, he seems to feel the pressure without lookin' and seems able to find a way to avoid it and still get rid of the ball. I think next year, he might be hard to stop. It seems that he and the receivers are still not on the same page most of the time. Anyway, I am tired. I have worked hard to make a little bit of room for a few new blogs on my blogroll, Also, all ya'll members of USURP be sure to read the message I put up earlier today. The navel says hi, or at least, I assume it would if it could talk, and as for me, I am gone for the night. End of report.

Callin' it a night

OK, so there may be some who think I was kiddin' when I said my visitation rate was likely to go into the dumper today, but it seems to be a pattern that Saturdays are usually the slowest visitation day of the week. You don't believe me? Here is my monthly visitation rate graph with arrows pointin' to every Saturday. You decide if I was right on track:

However, as you can see from the chart, today was only the fourth lowest day of the month, but knowing that I will not get all that many visitors does put a damper on my willingness to post much. Then again, as you can see, my addiction to share my every inane thought with the world brings me back anyway. What a dilemma, huh?

Let me see, what else did I do today? Well, there is something new along the top line ya'll probably hadn't noticed, there is the link to crappyblogs webring added as well as a link to my blogshares listing and I finally cleared up the chaotic look at the very bottom of the blog. I don't know why I never finished that last part down there when I was designing this template, but I figured no one ever got that far down the page anyway. No one has ever mentioned the mess it was and I doubt anyone will even see what I have down there now. No problem, actually as you would have to have read a whole week's worth of posts to get down that far, and I am pretty sure most of you read more often than once a week, don't ya?

OK, so navel gazin' time. I shall now life up my sweater and look. Damn, it is still there and looks just like it did last time I looked. Now I know how delighted you are to know that! End of report.

[Oops, quick UPDATE: I have just discovered that I got a virtual kiss from Annika! Woohoo!!! Now I won't want to wash my virtual face for at least a year.]

Too tired to continue

Yes, yes, yes, it was a light night in the old Blogosphere tonight, not a creature was stirring except maybe Michele, Kelley and Glenn. The navels were all comfortably covered as the weather turned cool, and the navels stayed warm as the bloggers who went out were going hither and there. Tiger himself was bored to tears, it seems. And posted so rarely no one noticed. So what, does it matter, what happened tonight? If so, I am sure Michele, Kelley and Glenn will post up the news as it happens. As for this report, I guess it shall end, and I can take my tired ass to bed where is sorely belongs.

Short and sweet short

102 vistors today. I am very pleased. Navel is totally uninterested in number of visitors. End of report.

Ain't it a shame

Well, second day in a row since I topped 100 visitors that I have fallen just a few short of 100 visitors. I am so very glad to see my visitation rate is comin' back up. Not sure why, but hopefully I have gotten a few more regular readers now. It pleases my pea-pickin' heart, to borrow a phrase from Tennesee Ford, to know people are enjoyin' my posts. Of course, maybe they are just printin' them out so as to line their bird cages or to put in their outhouse to use ... well you get the picture. It doesn't take a big brush to paint that, huh?

Well, it is a shame I stayed up really late again, but I was havin' so much fun readin' everyone's blogs tonight, and as you can see by readin' the last four or five posts, I found a few gems while doin' so. Be sure to go visit them people, cause they worked as hard to entertain you as I have done. They love havin' readers as much as I do.

Now, this damn navel of mine needs to go to bed, and I think I am the one that needs to assist it in doin' so. I mean there damn sure ain't no one else here in the house, so if I don't do it, who will? The navel is doin' pretty well, but actin' a bit cranky, so I am sure it is time for it to go take a long nap. With such inaniac remark, I shall end tonight's or actually this early mornin's report.

It's back!

Well, I am too pooped to post and wouldn't you know after almost a week from hidin' from me, my navel has decided to show himself. Thankfully, it is in great shape. I am still not sure what the reason it was being so discrete these last few days. Maybe there was somethin' wrong with it, but after a few days of rest, it is back to normal. Will we ever know. Well, so sorry for this report bein' so short, but as I said, I am tired as heck, so I think I will go to bed early. I feel I need my rest now, even if my damn navel is in the mood to party all night long.

Too little inanity today

What a strange day. I just noticed I was still sittin' here with my tie still tied around my neck. I wore one of my two Cowboys ties today, as I am still proud of how well the defense played yesterday, but I have no idea why I did not take it off when I got off work. Oh well, maybe I was in a very serious mood.

Durin' one of my non-postin' hiatus this evenin', I watched Tom Jones, the winner of the Best Picture in 1964. I remember seein' it when it first came out, but I was about 8 years old at the time and I remember I did not like it all that much. I figured maybe I was much too immature to understand it at the time. However, although I am much more mature now, I am still not that impressed with the picture. I had to check to see what other pictures were nominated that year and in my opinion, Lilies of the Field was a much better movie. Of course, that has happened to me a couple of other times, as I was not all that impressed with American Beauty or Titanic. Oh well, when I finally become a member of the Academy, maybe my vote will count.

I got 107 visitors today. Woohoo! I think that is the first time I have received more than 100 daily visitors since I was Instalanched. I remember before that happened, my best day was somewhere about 137, then all of a sudden the Instalanche hit and I got somethin' like 4500 or so in two days, and it cost me $6 for the extra bandwidth. LOL

OK, we have the Veteran's Day ceremony in the square tomorrow mornin' at 9:00am, so I guess I had better drag my navel to bed. Again, it is being really shy in this cool weather and is hidin' under my clothes until just about bed time. It must be of some kind of assistance, because that damn navel sure looks like it is doin' well here lately. Maybe if I sleep with my head under the covers every night for a week, I will just get better lookin'. Who knows, right? Maybe it is worth a chance.

Well, before I get too far off the deep end, I suppose I should end tonight's report. I do hope you enjoyed what I had to share today as much as I had sharing it with ya'll. As always, I appreciate you comin' to visit and feel free to come back as much as ya want.

Well, stayed up way too late

My goodness, I did not even know it was close to midnight. I have an early day tomorrow and now am likely to oversleep. I was amazed at the number of visitors I got today, but I did work my butt off tryin' to attract large numbers. I actually went a couple over my average daily visitation rate, which is stupendous. I had better numbers this weekend for Friday, Saturday and Sunday than I have seen in a long long time. Thanks to all of you for your patronage. Of course, some of you tromped through with your muddy boots on, so I will likely be up for another hour moppin' the floor. The price of popularity, huh?

Well, didn't get much navel gazin' opportunity this day either, as it is still chilly and the navel is stayin' well bundled up. The little varmit just does not take too well to cold weather exposure. I am wonderin' if navels can get chapped. I bet a chapped navel would be a pain to deal with, ya think?

I guess ya'll can see how silly and inane I get when I have stayed up too late, so maybe I ought to cut this report short and go to bed. And yet, I have almost a full cup of Dr. Pepper left. Well, won't be the first time I have had to allow one to sit full all night long just to awaken to find a cup full of watered down, flat Dr. Pepper. However, if I shake the cup and can hear one sliver of ice rattle around, you can bet I will take a sip of it about the first thing I do in the mornin'. Uh, likely, however, the very first thing I do is get rid of the waste from all the prior Dr. Pepper drinkin' I did. Speakin' of which ... time to go.

I got somethin' to show

OK, navel is doin' well. Of course, maybe you might be interested in a picture of my cock.*

*I am hopeful that no one will be offended by this picture. Of course, there is a reason this site is rated "R".

It's pretty big, isn't it?

I am bettin' you were actually expectin' a picture of a rooster, weren't you?

Playin' a game of Hide 'n Seek

Well, I guess my sweet dear navel is gettin' a bit shy with all the attention ya'll have been showin' by readin' these daily reports 'cause the little dickens has been hidin' from me, keepin' his whereabouts concealed. I am hopeful he is bein' well fed and such, and is not ill with any navel illnesses of any kind. Are there any navel illnesses of any kind?

If you are tired of readin' 'bout my belly button, you could always go read about Tracy's head. As for me, I am thinkin' I will go uncover this navel mystery, and report back to ya'll tomorrow if I discover anythin'.

Cold feet and warm ears

Before I get to tellin' ya how my navel is today, let me get rid of a few things I wanted to tell ya'll about. First of all, my feet are like really cold, but for some reason my ears feel like they are burning up. I am surely hopeful that is not a symptom of somethin' nefarious comin' to attack my health. I would hate to be ill this weekend, especially when I think I am gonna have to go to the office to get some much needed work done.

I said somethin' 'bout my dogs earlier. I always get kinda tickled at Duke when it gets cold. He has this severe skin mite allergy problem that has caused him to lose most of his hair. He has been provided a little hut with a blanket in it. When it turns cold, he doesn't come out for his dog biscuit. He expects room service. He gets it.

I am thinking of gettin' somethin' for Comanche to use to escape the cold weather, but she really does not seem to mind. I drove by once today during the day. We had a pretty strong north wind blow in some bitterly cold air. I drove by the house and saw Comanche just layin' in the yard by the fence. That cold wind did not seem to bother her in the least.

Me, I have a big bed with a goose down comforter on it. I actually still have my summer goose down comforter on the bed. It is much lighter than the one I use in the winter. I just don't have anyone to bring me munchies after I get all snuggled in. Of course, I would likely wonder why anyone would, as I wouldn't even eat crackers in bed.

Ah, the laundry: I actually got two loads washed, one is still in the dryer and the other still in the wash. If the one in the dryer was anythin' that had to be folded, the load in the washer might be there until I got home tomorrow. Thankfully, however, it is a load of BVDs and there is no necessity to fold those. You just shove them in the drawer and be done with it.

OK, enough with the mundane inanities, I suppose. Let's get to the serious stuff. The navel has again been covered throughout the day. Therefore no gazing was possible. However, I have it on good authority that the navel is doin' fine. That there ends tonight's report.

Artful analogy?

Hmm, I was thinkin' today that my blog was kinda like doin' a stand-up comedy show on some sidewalk with a hat layin' out in front. Every once in awhile a crowd would gather and allow me to entertain them (readin' my crap) and once in a great while, someone would pitch a coin or a bill into the hat (commentin' on my crap). Of course, some would have to leave, but would spend the rest of the day tellin' everyone what they had seen and urgin' them to go see for themselves (linkin' to my crap). What can I say, I am just a natural born street performer. I love the crowds, I love the donations, and I damn sure love the free advertisement.

Today was such a strange day. I actually got nothin' done, seriously. Not sure why, but seemed all I did was go here and there with intentions of accomplishin' somethin' but either someone would not be where they were supposed to be or some problem would occur along the way. Tomorrow I have to attempt to persuade 12 jurors that my retarded client cannot understand enough about the proceedings against him to be competent to stand trial. That is my job. The jury's job is to determine if such is to be. The psychologist was unsure.

I am so glad I found out that I could take Sudafed to rid myself of the sinus headaches and be able to sleep. I had to do so today, and now am really drowsy. I am gonna make it another early one. May be a sign of my impendin' old age ... yuck! Still insomnia sucks.

It has been quite chilly today, so my navel has remained unexposed for the greater part of the day. I suspect there is no problem with it this evening, but I shall take a long gander at it just before I crawl under the goose down comforter and let it begin to reflect my body heat as I drift off into slumber. Just because I might be snoozin' don't mean you should cease your readin'. From some of my Site Meter scans, I find that I often get people who spend hours just readin' through my archives. That always gladdens my heart.

Oh, by the way, I am really enjoyin' the comments I am gettin' on this post. I can feel my ego swellin'. Thanks ya'll!

Who the Fuck is Kim du Toit?*

It seems some guy named Kim du Toit twisted all the gals panties in a wad sayin' somethin' about all men who ain't warrin', pillagin' and rapin' women is a bunch of pussies. It caused so much hullabaloo that all the people goin' to his site to see what the fuss was about overloaded his server. I know, I tried to get there. He has a temporary fix if ya want to see it, but most likely ya already read it didn't ya? So michele said somethin' about it and drew 60 comments, last I looked. Everyone seems to like to shoot their mouth off over on michele's blog, and she ain't really none too happy 'bout it. One of the reasons I love Anna so much, other than she always makes me laugh, is because she knows when to butt out of a situation.

Anyway, I guess the point I want to make is that I just do not understand why some guy posts some stupid opinion and everyone thinks it is blogworthy, but except for few intrepid souls, no one reads any of my crap, not even the good stuff. It is not like I am sittin' here in my BVDs gazin' at my bellybutton thinkin' up all this crap for my health. Nope, I am pretty sure I am one of the smartest guys to come along since Einstein bit the dust, maybe not Stephen Hawking smart, but more like Benjamin Franklin smart. I see shit and figure crap out quicker than anyone. Most of the crap other people post is just that, a bunch of crap that has been reported to death in the media already. I just continually worry about why people seem to be drawn to the same ol' trite crap time and time again, and I get continually overlooked. Oh well, I will just bide my time and see what my navel is up to ... either that or go to bed.

Elvis Tiger has departed the console.

*Last time I asked Who the Fuck some blogger was it turned out to be Dave Barry's dog.

Different day, stranger night

Well, I made it through Monday by just avoidin' the office and goin' off on a tangent. At least I did get somethin' accomplished. Then I came home and started on a project that Kang and I have been discussin' and we got most of it accomplished but for some reason, despite the best attempts and feeble intellects of one large striped cat and a long tailed marsupial, we were unable to get the job done.

I seemed to have gotten super-sized on the readership today despite the fact that I hardly posted anythin' during the day. There were not a lot of comments, but then I never seem to get a lot of comments anyway. It seems that it is only the same three or four people who take the time to comment. I am pretty sure there are a few more than that who regularly visit. I think some of them are just really shy.

I have had that Texas Blogs ring link down below my blogroll for quite a while now and got notice today that I was now a part of the ring. It seemed to take them long enough. Still, I actually figured I had been rejected for usin' too much foul language. ;)

Uh, my free favorite source is out of Dr. Pepper again. This time I substituted Mountain Dew. I actually hate that stuff, but it does contain a sufficient amount of caffeine. We all know what happened last time when I went with the caffeineless Mug Root Beer.

Well, so much for the mundane crap about whatever. The navel is swell, so guess I can conclude this report on that happy note. More crap tomorrow ... possibly. I am just always hopeful I can think of somethin' worth readin' to post with regularity.

A most unusual day, I guess

I awakened much too early this mornin', but then remember I went to bed early last evenin'. I guess ya'll likely read my first postin' of the day, so got some kinda clue as to what time I was up. Well, I ate lunch about 10, then went to the office and did all that stuff I was talkin' 'bout doin' yesterday, before that bunch on the tour of all the American Legion people came to my office. Since our post is just a trailer, where I have never been or seen, but have been told it stinks worse than a skunk, we told them we would meet them at my office. They were 15 minutes late, just chatted a bit, then off they went, and out I went. At least the office is organized a bit. I even vacuumed the floor. Wow, who knows, maybe one of these days I can get my house reorganized again. Who knows?

It was really hot today, and really humid. I have been gazing at my navel almost all day long, and still I see nothin' has changed, except that I did catch a few pieces of popcorn I was eatin' in it a couple of times while I was watchin' a couple of movies. I easily removed them soon after they were trapped, so except for maybe a little bit of grease that might have been left behind, I am sure there was no damage done. It is hard to believe I did not get but about 50 visitors today, but hey, I guess it is better than none, huh? I do hope ya'll enjoyed what I had to say.

I just rubbed my legs with some anti-itch lotion and as soon as I brush my teeth, I think I will just go to bed. I will try to post somethin' more interestin' sometime tomorrow, because I guess nothin' today was very interestin' to anyone. I only got one comment and no one pinged me at all today. Well, this report is pretty boring also and is getting pretty mundane. I guess it is time to end it. Later taters!

Turnin' in early

I was watchin' a movie and my eyes kept closin'. I decided I must be more exhausted than I thought or it could just be a symptom of my advancin' old age. I did not want to miss out on some good roast beef, though, so I forced myself to get up and get out for a bit. My friend's wife served me a huge chunk of roasted dead cow with a roasted carrot, a portion of roasted onion, and half of a roasted potato. Salted and peppered to taste, I ravenously consumed this delightful repast. I then returned home still feelin' tired enough to make an early night of it. As I promised my dentist, however, I shall take the time to brush what is left of my teeth prior to actually going to bed.

I am quite pleased that so many of you took valuable time out of your busy Saturday to visit my humble blog. I really do treasure your readership. I am always wishing I had more to entice your loyalty than my openness, honesty and inane wit. I could always start postin' photos of my belly button again.

All those poor kiddies & my achin' navel

Wow, all my cold-hearted readers! So you couldn't spare a lousy comment just to allow some local kiddies to get some candy tonight. Yes, I know it is already the 1st of November and Halloween has officially ended, but we will be having our candy givin' extravaganza tonight, when all the costume wearing characters walk around the county square scaring everyone out of a piece or two of candy. Of course, I won't have any to give out, because according to my tagline, I must keep my word. As there were not 25 comments to this post, I must therefore eat all 500 Tiger Pops myself. Oh my, I will be so full of sugar that I will likely gain 50 pounds or more by the time the extravaganza starts. My stomach will be so stretched, my navel will ache like Hell. Yep, it is all your fault, you know. You could have halted this problem if you had not been so stingy with your comments. Oh well, I guess I will just go to bed and think about all that damn candy I have to eat as soon as I awaken in the morning. Hopefully, but the time I wake up, I will have come up with some way to avoid doing so. I just really hate to break my promise.

If I had a hammer

I would have already likely dropped it on my foot. Yep, I had posted earlier about how utterly tired I am from the day's activities, and I can hardly keep my eyes open. As such, I think I will remove my clothes, bare my navel to the cool night air, empty my bladder and go to bed. What a simple plan! Of course, I will likely get chilled when I remove my clothes, miss the toilet and hit the floor while emptyin' my bladder, and stub my toe on somethin' as I walk from the bathroom to the bedroom. If I get chilled, my nipples might get hard but my navel will not be affected, if I miss the toilet, my feet might get wet, but my navel will remain dry, if I stub my toe, my toe will ache but my navel will feel nothin'. Navels actually have it pretty easy, unless there is a tickle finger around. I have always actually sensed that there might be some physical connection between the navel and the bladder, because when I have had someone tickle my navel, it especially makes me want to urinate. Strange, that, huh? This report is gettin' a bit biazrre, huh? Think I better end it now and get to that simple plan of mine. Wish me luck, won't you?

Oh, by the way, tonight's reappearance of Wicked Willie™ is dedicated to Denita.

One Post Too Far ... or Rocky Gets Sloshed

Hey, so the title is crappy. It ain't like I have not been postin' one superbly snarky post after another for hour after hour tonight. I mean, give a guy a break. Hell, I have not even gazed at my damn navel and am still gonna give ya'll this report, so what do ya think about that? Nope, this is the end of the line for one day's postin'. I mean 17 previous posts surely meets my daily quota, doesn't it? Hell, where are the rules ... I might be a couple shy. Or then again, it might be a world record, although I am almost sure InstaPundit has done more than 18 posts in a day and probably michele, Jay, Kevin and even myself have topped that number on some previous occasion. But that is all ya'll are gonna get on this day. I am blogged out for one day. And the hell with a lookin' at my belly button ... anyone all that interested in what it looks like tonight can come over here and crawl into bed with me and do your own gazin'.

However, 'fore I go, I will tell ya'll my absolute favorite attorney joke:

Man walks into attorney's office and asks, "How much to answer 3 questions?"

The attorney answers, "$50."

Man gasps and says, "Isn't that a bit expensive?"

The attorney answers, "To some it could be, now what was your third question?"

Now, if I only get 99 more visitors before midnight, I can top the 100 visitor mark. Now that would be grand.

Is this story ever getting old?

Yeah, like I haven't said this so many times here in the last week, but I am worn out. Today I had to drive to one of the neighboring towns to go court, the case was reset to the afternoon, drove back to the office, worked for an hour or two, drove back to have the hearing, sat for an hour listening to another hearing that had to be over before mine started, got back to town at 5:00, went back to the office to check my messages, spent 30 minutes on a long distance call with a client whose case was supposed to be over but a snag has come up, then had to run to the store to buy something to take to the American Legion meeting which started at 6:00 and just got out of there and came home. Some days, there seems to be too little time to get everything done. I have a lot of work to do tomorrow since I have no court settings and have several things that I have had to set aside over the last two weeks as I was so busy that have to be done and have a couple of things that have to be done to finish up some of the items that were discussed at the American Legion meeting, so I am planning on going to bed early again. Of course, I do think I will just go rest a bit for now, and maybe come back later to see how everyone else has been. It seems like forever since I have read some of the blogs on my blogroll, and it has been bothering me alot. Still, I am so weary, I likely will be so drowsy, I would not be able to give the attention I need to actually read most of them. Catch-22? I have no idea. Maybe I should go drink a bit of Tequila or something, huh? Still, just remember, I do love you all ... well, maybe not Acidman, afterall, he has never apologized for saying I looked older than he does. Oh heck, I really don't care ... I just like to rag about that. Oh, George, if you had just seen the yawn I did, you would know I need to go to bed. I am so sorry, I really am. The only thing about me that hardly ever changes anymore is my navel. Every time I look, it is there, it is surrounded by all that soft black hair (except for one or two gray ones now), and looks so very serene. Thank George for that, I guess. I will end this report before I fall out of this chair. Thank you for your attention ... after all if you got this far down, you have to like me, right?

Stick it with a fork!

Well, here it is bedtime, and I am still wearin' my tie. I told ya'll I was tired. I was so tired I didn't even feel like changing into somethin' more comfortable. As such, my navel has not been fully gazed at .... hmm, that makes it a lot like Abject Apathetic Procrastination. I doubt that my other blog gets looked at as much as I actually do gaze at my own navel. I am thinking that idea has hit bottom and maybe I ought to call it quits. Yep, stick a fork in it, Kang A. Roo, it's done.

OK, just to satisfy your curiousity, I took a peek under my shirt and my navel is still there. I wasn't really surprised, were you? Speaking of ideas who have run their course, are there many among my paltry sum of regular readers who really give a whack whether I continue these Nightly Navel Gazing Reports? In fact, is there more than one or two that would be bothered at all if I just ceased blogging altogether? Well, I am really too weary to worry about it, but just posed the questions that waft through my mind from time to time. I'll shut up now.

I did it on purpose

Well, I have my first chance to go to court in one of our neighboring towns in the morning and am not sure how forgiving the judge will be if I am late, so to be sure I do not oversleep, I took a couple of sinus pills even though I am feeling fine today because as most of my regular readers know, they keep me from sleeping. As such, I might be staring at my navel all night long. Of course, it is pretty cold right now, about 40 degrees, so to do so, I will have to have my head under the covers and use a flashlight. Oh well, I don't think that I want to do that. Hmm, still I am sure it is good shape. As cool as it is, I have been wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants all day long. I did get a chance to see it earlier today, and all I can say is it was really wet at that time, because I was taking a hot bath. Now if I only had a chance to see Rene Zellwegger's belly button ... oh never mind. If you know me, you know what I am thinking.

Say goodnight, Gracie.

"Goodnight Gracie."* And with such inanity, I will end tonight's report.

*See, it still works!

Postin' from a drunken stupor

or somethin' close. Well, I decided to go to the annual Chamber of Commerce Casino Night amd was $400 ahead of the chips I got, but bought enough chips to be in the auction, but George, did the amounts were so high, I did not have enough to get what I wanted. However, I had enough to get a pretty picture of one of our fine parks someone painted and a book of Texas birds and also won a weekend of some jumping thing for youngsters ... I am sure you know what I am talking about, and some lady said she had a birthday party going on next Sunday, not tomorrow, but a week away, and wanted to buy it from me. I just gave it to her and told her to give me whatever she thought it was worth. It seems I agreed to just be at the party. Whatever. I had fun, but mostly because I drank about 6 ounces of tequila while I was there. If you knew how many times I had to backspace to redo what I have written, you might know how intoxicated I am. I wonder how Acidman blogs at all. ;) Sorry, but that is just a joke, as I have no idea if he even drinks. Oh well, guess who needs to go to bed. George, but are you smart. Yes, I am about to either go to bed or lay down here on the floor. I try not to drink much anymore, but sometimes, it seems to be part of the event. Tonight, I am pretty sure that was part of the event, so I did my part. Or at least I think so. George, I hope I didn't make a fool of myself, but if so, so what. It isn't like I am running for Governor of California (I had to retype that 5 times before I got it right) is it? Good night.

Oops, did I forget to tell you that my navel is fine, or at least it is not as intoxicated as my brain is right now. The report comes to an end, and sorry it is a bit late, but as you can see, I did find something to do last night.*

*I am not sure how many mistakes I made, so live with it. Thank you.

No change on the horizon

Well, today was a pretty hectic day. Luckily the drive home from the dentists office was easier that the drive up. Court was not all that hard, as I was able to pass off all my cases for another month. Yes, our County Court only sits once a month also, just as both District Courts who cover our area only sit once a month here also. As such, when each three courts are set, the dockets are fairly long. Then off to the dentist I went. One and ahalf hours of sitting in the chair, then three hours of having half my mouth numbed. After I left the dentist's office*, I went to the movie house across the street and saw Mystic River which had the feel of Oridnary People so might have a good chance of being the next winner of Best Movie. It was directed by Clint Eastwood and one commenter at IMDb has already said it was the best movie he has done since Unforgiven which, if you remember, also won Best Picture. I thought Sean Penn did his most fabulous acting ever and Tim Robbins, although an asshole politically, did a great job in his role. Kevin Bacon was fair and Laurence Fishburne's role was so small that I wonder why he took it. When I got to the movie house, I bought a small sack of popcorn and a small Coke** even though still half of my mouth was numb, but I found I was able to drink the Coke anyway. However, when I tried to chew a mouthful of popcorn, I bit the shit out of my tongue, so decided not to even try another mouthful. A couple had just sat down close to me, and I offered them the bag. The guy, who was closest to me declined by his female companion said she would be glad to have it. I guest she thought I looked more trustworthy than he did, even though I explained why I was giving it away before I offered it.

After the movie was over, the numbness had worn off, so I was able to eat something, and I went to Taco Bueno and had a nacho salad and taco, then started the drive home. I stopped by Walmart to buy a few dental supplies that were suggested by the dental hygenist after we discussed the problems I was having with pain when brushing my teeth. I also bought the Indiana Jones DVD set and Chicago, both in widescreen. Now I think I will shuck these work clothes and give my navel a look before heading off to see Chicago. I haven't seen it yet.

Now, for what you have been waiting for all day: My navel seems to be in very great shape tonight, however, my French Judge gavel could probably use a good workout, but I am not in the mood to bang it myself and see no voluteer to give in a workout as usual. Oh well, if I could speak French, I might say c'est la vie.*** And, thus I end this evening's report.

*One of the highlights of my dental office visit this time was this most beautiful young lady that was sitting at the counter when I came out to pay. I did not notice she was missing most of her left arm right at the elbow right away, but after I did, that only enhanced her beauty to me. I saw her as a living Venus de Milo and wanted to tell her so, but my shyness held me back. I am hopeful she is still employed there when I go for the next round of treatment, doing the other side of my mouth, in two weeks.

**They don't have Dr. Pepper and I would rather just drink Coke than Mr. Pibb which tastes like the poured out half a Coke and refilled that half with Dr. Pepper, I call it CocaPepper.

***My appreciation to AltaVista's Babel Fish Translation Service for their assistance in coming up with the right spelling for that phrase.

It just ain't gonna work

I exposed a bit too much of myself in last night's report, so nothing is forthcoming in tonight's report. No, actually, just nothing much to report other than my fatigue and exhaustion and so I am not up to much snarky description and such. Things in my life will slow down, maybe, soon. As it is, right now, I am stressing over having another dental appointment tomorrow. This is the first round of that deep, below the gumline cleaning. I am really not looking forward to that.

Anywho ... ta ta for now!

Near maximum exposure

Well, it was weirdly humid and hot today and by the time I got home, I was ready to cool down. Of course, the quickist way to cool off, unless I wanted to turn on the A/C again, was to strip down to my BVDs. Yes, I know some of you have seen the picture of my navel, and see that I wear briefs. I know some think boxer shorts are better, and I actually have several silk boxers around, but if I try to wear them all day long, they always seem to crawl right up my ass crack. I hate that and it bothers the crap out of me. I always feel more comfortable wearing brief underwear. I suppose you could tell I would not be a big fan of wearing some thong underwear, huh. The great thing about briefs, also, in my opinion is the waist band seems to ride just below my navel. Therefore, if I am walking around in nothing but BVDs, you can expect my navel is getting maximum exposure. Of course, around here, the only one who could see it would be me myself, so when I look down, I have no problem navel gazing. Now are you glad you dropped by for this post? I will put you out of your misery, and will end tonight's report.

If only my leg was doing as well

Yes, it seems the ever present navel is doing quite well this evening, however I seem to have one of those weird things that acts like a boil is coming up, making a big red bump on the inside of my thigh coming up. I seem to get these from time to time, and they are a bit painful, kind of like a large zit, and yet they never amount to anything except a bit of discomfort for a week or so as they run their course. Sometimes they do actually culminate in forming a small head of some kind. I was thinking today, maybe it was the male midlife tradeoff for not having that unsightly cellulite on the back of our thighs. I am so thankful, however, that these things never develop on any of my more important body parts, like the aforementioned navel. Oh but to have that youthful body of mine when I was twentysomething, with those smooth firm legs and the tight abdomen which was the perfect resting place for my youthful navel. You know they always say you can't turn back the clock, but I find we do that all the time with this daylight savings time, but you damn sure can't get younger, can you, no matter how many times you wind that clock back.

OK, I know, this has gotten a bit bizarre, hasn't it, so let me end this report before I got totally off the deep end. I would hate to drown in my own inanity, you know.

Sundays are slow days anyway

Yes, I know I didn't do much in the way of blogging today, and I really didn't take all that much time gazing at my navel wondering why I wasn't getting all that many visitors today. I already knew it was Sunday and no one does much blog visiting on Sundays. Too many football games to watch as well as Game 2 of the World Series. My belly button did not accumulate any fungus or trap any foreign objects today and, despite the fact that I mostly sat around, was unexposed for the greater part of the day. Remember when I told you it was finally getting cool enough so that it was a bit uncomfortable running around unclothed in one's own house ... that is the primary reason it was covered. T-shirt and underoos fit the bill nicely, however. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know! TMI. So? It is my report and I will report what I want. Got it! I thought so! ;)

All I did all day was

watch movies:

1. Life and Times of Hank Greenberg
2. We Were Soldiers
3. Showtime
4. What's the Worst That Could Happen

I was pretty sure that there were not going to be all than many visitors today, as Saturday seems to be the low visitation day every week. My navel seems to be fine, so I guess I will end this report, go to bed, and hope Comanche stays in the yard all night long. I would love it if I never had to chain her up again.

When your navel is upset but your stomach isn't

Like the title? I thought it was very catchy myself, but then I take great pride in my titles. Of course, some of them ain't gems, but then I guess neither are all of my jokes. I surely thought my alternative punchline to today's Friday Funny™ was quite amusing, as did my navel, but it seems no one else even ventured into the extended entry to see my offering. My navel will be very upset if someone doesn't show some appreciation for my bizarre sense of humor on that one. Be forewarned! ;)

As for other aspects of my navel, I think status quo is the appropriate term to use. Thus ends this evening's report.

The next to the longest day

Today was a long and work-filled day, but it was not The Longest Day because that is a movie about World War Deuce. Anyway, I am about tired as a dog, only I think my dogs aren't so tired as I am. I think my navel is likely the only part of me that is not tired, as it has not done anything at all today, but as it has no means of doing anything, I guess it will just have to go along with what the rest of my body wants to do which is to rest. I think tonight is going to have to be an early night because I just think otherwise I will feel worse for falling asleep right here. Blogging to continue on another day ... tomorrow if ya'll are lucky! ;)

Continuin' the inanity of it all ...

Yep, after what? neglectin' to keep ya'll informed on the status of my navel for 4 days now, I figured everyone was a bit worried about whether such had changed so much it would not be recognizable, I am here to inform you, it still looks about the same as they last time I reported on such. Of course, I came home and sat around still wearin' both my shirt and tie for several hours before finally decidin' I had no reason to do, so I did not take a good look at it until just a few minutes ago. I am so very apologetic in not keepin' ya'll informed about my navel over these last few days, but hey, at least I was doin' a good job of keepin' ya'll supplied with pictures of kangaroos, wasn't I?