Away, Away

     This will be a very short post today. All I will say is that I am away from my desk.  Rest assured I'm not going to disappoint you as I will be back soon.


     OK, I'm back.  That wasn't too long was it?  Well, sometimes you just have to step away from something to get a new perspective on what you are doing. This was just that case and I had to step away in order to not get swept away. Often we get too close to something and that nearness has a tendency to cloud our judgement and emotion.  I'm stepping back and taking a fresh look at what is going on.
     I'm sorry but I just can't share a picture with you this morning or whatever time of day it is for you. As you know, I have a wealth of pictures that I love to share with you, but that just isn't the case today.  Again, it is a matter of perspective and change. You can be assured that my next post will have pictures as I am very much aware of how much you enjoy seeing and experiencing them.
     I have to close now. It is very hard looking at things from new perspectives and I must conserve my energy.

Hey, Its Been A Busy Day

     Hey, I realize that it is now 11:32 on Thursday morning--Friday in Japan so enjoy your weekend. This post is really late and that's OK.  Normally I like to post early in the morning so that the day doesn't get away from me. Today, I blew it. There just was too much to do today.
     This morning has been full. No, I didn't sleep in although I did sleep until 8:00 AM Pacific Daylight Time.  This is about an hour and a half later than I normally get up. Whenever I do that it kind of sets me back with today's agenda as I have to be in the living room to see The Price Is Right at 11:00. We all have our priorities, don't we. That guy with the five kids and disabled wife has to win the car.  Its just good kharma and I have to help him win it.
     Generally the first thing I do is check my numbers on YouTube and Blogger. My numbers are soaring, by the way. At this rate I can retire when I am 95--oh wait, I am retired. Well, maybe I can buy that getaway in Costa Rica in the year 2210 at the rate I am going on AdSense. By the way, make sure you click on the vendor at the bottom in the AdSense box so that I can speed up the process of buying the home in Costa Rica. Do you really want me to beg?
      After I have checked my numbers I go on FaceBook. I don't stay there very long because I realize what a trap it is. It is my pleasure to wish those who have birthdays that particular day a Happy Birthday. That takes me up a couple of hours, it is important to catch up on the days news through FaceBook. I then turn to my email and I don't care if I have won the Habakistani Lottery worth $500, but I have to send $300 to Sabu Kanamagalagasa esq. a lawyer in Lagos, Nigeria in order to cover handling fees to release the funds. I don't trust him, he's a lawyer--I don't mean to offend any of my lawyer friends.
     All this took a little bit to long this morning so please forgive me.

What time is it?  I don't know, I can't read the face of the clock.  I don't have my glasses on.

Back To Clankety Clank

     Don't you  love cars?  Just when you seem to have something taken care of mechanically something else pops up and it sparks a return to the "Car Einstein". You may not know who the "Car Einstein" is, but he is the guy who works on my car. This guy is good, but he is human.
    As you know, or don't know and there is a third category of you just don't car which I am OK with, we took our car to "Car Einstein" last week to cure a problem. We got the car back and it ran great for me. My wife drove the "Blue Wonder", our car as we lovingly call it, and it decided to make some new noises. Uh-oh, "Car Einstein" didn't catch everything.
    These were not "if you drive me I won't run" noises, but they were noises that let us know something else is happening  and you should get them checked kind of noises. I hate those kind of noises because I never know when those noises become the "Oops, I'm broken and won't run and now you are stranded on a busy freeway out in the middle of nowhere between Palm Springs and Phoenix" noise.  We all have heard them. They strike terror in all our driving hearts. Have you ever been to Palm Springs or Phoenix by the way?

     Right now, the car is in the shop being diagnosed and "Car Einstein" is on the job. . I can only hope for the best. Shakespeare wrote "A rose by any other name could smell so sweet."  Well, I am saying that a noise with any other sound could make one feel so utterly terrified.

Yep, she needed a bit of work.

 

A Simple Post

     This will be a very short post. I wish to thank all my readers from the bottom of my heart.  Today I reached the milestone of 13,000 views of my blog. It has been a long road, but one I have enjoyed and I hope you have enjoyed reading. Tomorrow is Sunday, Monday in Japan--I just needed to share that with you--and I will have new posts on Monday--Tuesday in Japan.  Here's to the next 13,000 and beyond. THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT AND READING.

Thanks!  More coming on Monday. 

This Scares Me

     Some of you, not many, have asked me what scares me the most. I hate horror films. Driving a one lane road in a two ton truck on the side of a mountain with a 3000 ft drop on one side kind of makes my spine tingle as does an IRS audit. Not taking out the trash can causes a bit of anxiety as well, fearing not so much the trash not being taken out but my wife's reaction to not taking it out. That will ruin your day.  I am most scared by one little word, apricot.
     I hate apricots and have had many sleepless nights with nightmares about them. They bring many unpleasant memories from my childhood. You just don't understand, I HATE APRICOTS.
     Let me explain.  When I was growing up we had an apricot tree in the back yard. To say it was a healthy tree would be an understatement. The tree bore fruit, boy did it bear fruit. We picked apricots off it and all at the same time.  Do you know what happens when apricots are over ripe?  So, the family each year undertook the Herculean task of picking the darn apricots--tons of them.
     What do you do with all those apricots, all ripening at the same time. As I said in my last post, you try to give them away to friends.  This lasts only a short while as your friends quickly disappear.  In most cases, they don't like apricots and they try to avoid you because they know you because they know that you are going to try to palm more apricots on them. By this time they have sat for awhile and I won't even go to what happens after they have gotten soft and mushy.
     The idea hits that maybe we should make apricot jam. I don't like apricot jam and never have. When I was young, if I were to have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich it was made with apricot jam.  My mom always wondered why I would eat her PB&J sandwich made with apricot jam. After all, we had to use up all the jam that we made that season, let alone the twelve seasons before. I think after 50 years, I still have a jar of that ugly stuff from out tree laying around somewhere. Its probably well aged by now.
     Not only was I a picker, but I was the cleanup crew as well.  As the apricots we didn't pick off the tree ripened they would fall off the tree, mushy of course. I used to hate stepping on them.  You just couldn't help but not step  on them. There were still millions of them. How many can you eat and make jam out of.  Our grass in the back went right up to the tree so I had to mow under the tree. You can imagine the mess to the mower, not to mention squishing the ugly things. You would have to clean your shoes of an ugly orange goo.
     How many apricots can you eat.  I have had enough.

I can eat pineapple, watermelon, strawberries peaches and other fruits. I just can't stand apricots.

You Are Going To Wear That? Part 2

     My wife is out again and I think she is at the Fashion Police District Headquarters. I had to go out for a bit to run some errands and I looked resplendent in my brown shorts, navy blue polo shirt and my Birkenstock sandals. She didn't say a word as the errand was to procure needed supplies for her. This time, comfort won. Besides, I got dressed after she left.

Where you go when you defy fashion law.

You Are Going To Wear That?

     I have to admit, I don't have a real good fashion sense.  If it were up to me, I would wear shorts, a polo shirt and sandals all the time.  That's not exactly true.  When it gets cold, below 60 degrees, I will bring myself down to wear jeans and tennis shoes but that's no big deal. I'm sorry but I wore business attire for so long I swore off suits and ties and even shirts and ties a long time ago after I left the business world. Face it, life is too short to be uncomfortable.
     As you probably know, I love my wife.  I am a bit suspicious though.  Many times she will look at what I have on and ask me if I am really going to wear that. After all, what's wrong with wearing brown shorts with a navy blue shirt and birkenstock sandals to a church award dinner. Its going to be hot in the building. Besides, all those Germans who wear Birkenstocks can't be that wrong.
       Is she a member of the fashion police, Merced Division? My concerns got the best of me. I had to find out so I did a little snooping.  Sure enough there it was tucked in an isolated part of the closet.  It was her Fashion Police dress uniform. I wondered where she went when she said that she had a piano lesson. She was checking in to the Fashion  Police Headquarters for her assignments. She doesn't wear that uniform much, in fact I have never seen her wear it and guess the uniform is only for ceremonial purposes only worn on special occasions. I wondered where she was last week that one day when she was gone all day and took what she called a special dress with her. Maybe I'm paranoid but she does tell me "You're NOT going to wear that, are you." an awful lot. Hmmmmmmm......

Occasionally I will wear a sweater and sneakers. 

No Vrooom- Vroooom--More Like Clank Clank

     As I shared a few posts ago, my car is having trouble. Today is the day where we take it to the shop that fixed the transmission and will get a reading on it's ills. This is like going to the dentist. The experience of car repairs is that painful.  The suspense of not knowing what is actually wrong and what the bill is going to be to restore your ride will certainly raise your blood pressure a bit.  Believe me, mine doesn't need any help raising.
     I am a bit concerned. There is an old adage in the car buying business that says that the car will last until you are about to make the last payment. Guess what my valued readers, next month is our last payment. There are certain sayings in life that have a tendency to be true. This is one of them. Wish us luck.

Maybe I should buy an airplane. This one would be fine. Let me look in my piggy bank to see if I have enough money. 

     

My Style Was Cramped

     How many of you have ever been indulging in a wonderful and restful deep night's sleep and have had to turn over. When you turn over something very painful happens.  You get a muscle cramp that makes you feel like your tendon in your foot is about ready to snap.  The pain is intense, and the darn think just doesn't want to go away.
     You try everything to work it out, to no avail.  It just keeps getting worse and your muscle tenses up even further. It hurts, let alone a wonderful deep sleep has been interrupted. The darn thing just isn't going away. If you were a horse your master would have gotten a gun and shot you at this point because of the pain you are suffering just to put you out of your misery.
     What does your wife, who is sleeping soundly next to you no more than a couple of inches do. She turns over and says in a still voice, "Do you have to make so much noise?"
     The pain and noise doesn't subside.  You are trying to be quiet but it hurts too much. The decibel level of the screams of pain seem to increase in relationship to the severity of the pain and the failure to loosen the muscle. You have tried to stretch it out quietly, but to no avail. The cream seem oblivious to any of your efforts to combat it. The hope that I could return to a state of slumber is quickly melting away. Its 2:00 in the morning by the way and I want to go back to sleep. Two O'clock in the morning is too early for me to get up.
     My beloved finally turns to me and says, "What's the matter?  Does it hurt?"
     "No, I'm just trying to gauge my pain tolerance." I said quietly, hiding my real feeling toward her at the moment. (I love you dear.)
     "Why don't you get up and walk it out?" she suggested.
     "I would love to dear."  I said in a loving voice. I think what her real motive was that she wanted to see me crawl or at least fall down out of bed. It has been a long time since she has had a good laugh at my expense.  IT HURT!!!
     After a few minutes which seemed like enough time to create a new world had passed, the cramp finally went away.  I had to gut it out through that incredible pain. I moved my foot back and forth and up and down.  Finally, the pain subsided. It was time to try to finish out the night's sleep.
     Have you ever tried to go back to sleep after a painful incident like this. Morphine would be a great choice, but I am not a drug abuser and I am not in a hospital. My brain decided that the strategy should be to return to sleep by fluffing up my pillow and just going for it. That wasn't working so I decided on another tack.
     I would start counting the dots on the ceiling.  Did you know that there are five billion, three hundred two million, six hundred seventy five thousand, two hundred and seventy eight dots on our bedroom ceiling.  I know this.  I counted them all--twice. That took about two hours and didn't work. I thank my fourth grade teacher for teaching how to count that high.
     Since the counting of dots strategy was not working another strategy had to be implemented. I decided the "Happy Gilmore Happy Place" technique may work. I decided to try to imagine a "Happy Place" and go to it in my mind. I won't describe my "Happy Place" because this post is getting to long, but it was restful and calming, kind of like the dream I was having before all this took place. The is just something about a warm tropical beach and, well you get the idea.
     Can I ask a favor? Will someone look at my leg to see if my foot is still there? My leg has gone numb from the knee on down to my foot.  The cramp has pretty much taken the feeling out of it. I can walk though, I think.

This is a beautiful place, but its nothing like my "Happy Place".

Hey Geico--I Could Write A Commercial For You Part 2

Dear Geico Insurance
     I could write a commercial for you. I am totally out there as far as my sense of humor and I could bring some of that madness to your advertising campaign.  Each commercial is entertaining and humorous which really catches the imagination of viewers.  I have that humor and imagination.
     I just saw the "Operation" commercial and it was hilarious. The idea of a doctor working on a patient and if they fouled up a buzzer would sound really cracked me up. An then there is the "Words Can Hurt" ad. What a stroke of creativity. I wish I had thought of that. Not only that but one would have to wonder if they would really want "A Million Bucks". I also totally understand asking a cat to rescue you from quicksand. I've seen that look from my cat a time or two before.
     Today is Wednesday.  Who can forget the "Guess What Day It Is" ad. That camel is priceless and the follow up commercial showed a stroke of creativity and genius that will never be equaled. All of these fit into my range as far as my sense of humor.
    I can be contacted through my email or though this blog.

Thank You
Dave

PS: This is not related to the subject of my blog but I want to welcome my new readers from Slovakia and Sweeden. None of this blog may make sense to you but hang in there.

This is a subject very deer to me. See Geico, I work well with words. I would like to make a few bucks off writng commercials for you. Call me.  

Who Moved My Cheese...Uh, Car

     I slept very well last night, thank you very much.  There was just one problem.  It was great being in a state of nocturnal bliss and tranquility but my sleep was disturbed. My brain decided to play a mean trick on me. You just wouldn't believe the dream I had.
     Most nights I can remember my dreams and they are fairly pleasant. My favorite one was the dream where I wound up on an island inhabited by a tribe of beautiful women and I was the only man. There is a lot I could share with you about on this one, but I care not to as it would adversely effect my status as a married man. The couch in the living room is comfortable, but I would rather sleep in my bed and not the couch.
      Here is my dream in a nutshell. Actually, I'm writing about it in this blog. The whole thing wouldn't fit in a nutshell and how could you read it if it was. Something written has to be orderly and on a surface where the letters are put out so that you could read it. I suppose you could put it on microfilm and put it in a nutshell, but you would need a reader to read the message. By the way, do people still use microfilm?
       It seems as though I was going to a shop to help a friend build something. That in and of itself is kind of scary because with my mechanical skills you don't want me around any sort of tools. I can be dangerous but that is another story and I didn't mean to bring down that storage rack. It was an accident. Let's just leave it at that, shall we.
      The friend's shop was located in the corner of a shopping center parking lot. The anchor tenant of the shopping center was a grocery store and the parking lot was very big. I parked my car out in the south forty of the lot.  For those of you in Poland or France or Boston, do I need to explain south forty? Let's just say I parked my car away from everything in an isolated corner of the lot. I locked my car and went into my friend's shop which was a part of a gas station.
       We had just finished what we were working on and I was about to leave. As I walked to my car a man came up to me and said, "You won't find your car out there."
        "Why?" I asked.
       "Its just been towed away to the gas station. There is a sign that says you can't park there over two hours and You've been parked there for two hours and five minutes. Your car is at the gas station and you have to pay to get it out."
        "What sign?" I asked. I looked around and saw no sign. This was a bit upsetting.
        I went back to the station to retrieve my car and was told by an attendant that he couldn't release the car and that only the manager had the authority.  The manager who was also the owner had gone for the day so my car would have to stay the night. There would of course be a storage charge. I was not going to pay the storage fee when there was on sign.
        The whole rest of the dream was me trying to get my car back. It seems as though the Supreme Court of the United States would not take the case.  At that point, I decided to pay the $1,000,000 storage charge
that had built up and just forget the whole thing. Admitting defeat, I woke up.

Had to change my mode of transportation.

     

Milk It For All Its Worth

     I wasn't going to post today, but I just couldn't avoid it. An opportunity came up and I just will not let it pass. Whenever life gives you an opportunity, you have to jump on it. It is sort of like the hanging curve ball in baseball. If a pitcher throws you a lolipop hanging curve ball over the plate you have to hit it out of the park. By the way, that is where I heading today. I am going to a Giants game, but that has nothing to do with this post.
     So, my wife poured herself a bowl of cereal. She spilled some milk out of the bowl and onto her recliner. She didn't say much, just "Oh darn, I spilled some milk."
     That got the wheels in my head turning. As you probably know, getting the wheels turning in my head doesn't take much. At any rate, she didn't get very emotional. I was very proud of her because...

...Wait for it...

...Wait for it...

...Wait for it...

...Here it comes, so be prepared...

...Are you ready?...

...Here it comes...

She didn't cry over spilled milk. And my mom always told me, "Never Cry Over Spilled Milk".

PS:  For those who do not follow baseball or do not understand the game, I apologize for the baseball metaphor.

Take me out to the ball game. What does that have to do with spilled milk?

The Price Is Right

     I'm sorry but you will have to wait a bit longer for today's post.  I'm watching The Price Is Right. Will she win the car.?
No, you are way off. Excuse me, I have to go.  She's about to blow it.  The bathroom cleaner isn't that much.  Take the popcorn.  Oh, you blew it. No car for you.  You do get to spin the wheel though.

Nope, not this car.  Besides it has four flats.

     I'll come back later.

Hey Geico, I Could Write A Commercial For You

Dear Geico Insurance
     I would like to offer my services to you as a commercial writer.  If you have read any of my posts on this blog--you probably haven't but you are not alone in that--you would have noticed that I am a very witty guy. I could bring that wit and strange sense of humor to your advertising campaigns.
     The gecko campaign is truly a stroke of genius. Who would have thought that a small green amphibian whose name is a close homophone to your corporate name would fit the bill as your company spokesman--oops, that's spokesperson as we don't want to offend anyone. You really took the ball and ran with it on this one. I do have a question though.  Where is the gecko from with his slight cockney accent?  I would guess Belize or possibly what was formerly known as British Guyana.  Hold on, I'll check Google on that...
     Wikepedia--we all know the foremost authority on everything which is always accurate--states that Geckos are a lizard that can be found in any warm climate. It also states that a species can be found in New Zealand.  This has caused a change in my thinking, based upon the accent of the Geico Gecko. There is an outside chance he is from New Zealand, although I don't detect a "down under" sound in his accent. You tell me.  Where is the famous Gecko from?  I promise I won't tell.
     For now, I have one last question for you.  Where does he hide his wallet?

This is a close as I could come to a picture of a Gecko. The colors are close and birds are related to lizards. 

 

Revenge Of The Machines

     So, I got my computer fixed.  It just doesn't end there though.  My computer is working fine and
doing exactly what I want it to do, but I think it kind of resented the fact that I got it fixed and can no longer cause me a great amount of frustration.  Machines talk to one another, and I think that they hold grudges, especially when we humans want to wrest control back from their dominance.  Such is the case with my car.
     Do you know how many computer components are on a car.  Yes, my car was manufactured--not made by the way because when you make something there is the possibility that you also install a personality or some form of intelligence--in 2004.  I realize that is old and the electronics on it are not as advanced as a car that is built--again built, not made--in 2015. But, like a grandson sitting at the knee of their grandfather they still talk to one another. They share stories and especially share conspiracies, especially on  how to drive humans crazy.
     Someone who is as techno-challenged as I am has no chance. We frustrate easily and machines know this.  Yes, I did have my computer fixed but it talked to my car. As a form of revenge it ordered my car to go on the fritz. You got to love the communication and networking.
     I put a lot of loving kindness in my car.  I give it baths and watch it's fluid levels.  Occasionally I even feed it high octane fuel.  Do you blame me for reacting the way I am. My frustration level is very high at this point. The options I have open to me are very narrow. I have to take it to a car doctor and have a machine tell the doctor what is wrong with it.
     The services that the doctor is going to perform on my car are pretty expensive and I am still at the mercy of another machine that diagnoses what is wrong. Once again and I can't say this strongly enough, it is a wicked conspiracy.  Think about it for a minute, how do I know that the diagnostic machine is telling the truth or just pulling my chain? What other machine is going to cause me a great amount of frustration after I get my car fixed?  All of this kind of makes you think, doesn't it?
     Maybe not.

Not my car anymore. I really miss that car.

No Joke--Literally

     I am very much aware of my job. That job is to bring a hearty laugh and a different perspective of the world around us to you my readers. Many have commented that I see the world through slightly skewed eyes. My observations are a bit different, to say the least and I hope that I have made you think a bit and perhaps chuckle. Today is a little different. I have nothing to share with you.
      My world of late has been pretty dull. Sometimes you look and do not find.  Such is the case with me and what is happening. It has been a busy few weeks and the events of the past few weeks have taken me away from my desire to write. That is sad, I know but it is true.
     I am afraid I have nothing witty to share with you today. Let me assure you that this is a very temporary state in which I have come into because my mind has been racing and my wife is about ready to throw me out of the house for some of the bad jokes that I have come up with recently. Please stay with me and experience this drought of humor with me.  I need the company.  By the way, maybe it is the lack of water here in California that is contributing to my drought of ideas. It could just be the debate over water or High Speed Rail here in California that is syphoning off my enthusiasm. Ooops, I am not going to turn this into a political column but I just couldn't resist.
     My advice is hang in there.  My mind can't be held in bondage for too much longer.

Blame Canada!

Father's Day 2015

     I am not going to post much today as it is Sunday and Father's Day 2015.  Thanks Dad, I know you have passed away but I thank you for all that you gave me. Just like the Harry Chapin song Cats In The Cradle, I have grown up a lot like you.
     For all you fathers, I give you this. I hope that you enjoy it. It is the video of Trump National. Click on it and enjoy!
https://youtu.be/sY5i6cytoqM

The waterfall behind the 17th hole at Trump National Los Angeles.

Its A Conspiracy--Part 2

     It is a conspiracy.  I get on my computer many times a day and it is as if it is laughing at me. Yesterday my computer had to be worked on to remove some things that were not that pretty. The fact of the matter is, it was spying on me. This is the truth.
     For the past couple of weeks, my computer has been doing some strange things and has been running very slow. You can see some of the mischief that it caused just by looking at my last post.  It redacted, that's a government term for blacked out, some of the best  points in my last post. Again, I don't know what is going on in it's beady little brain.  That's right, it doesn't have a brain just a jumble of electronic stuff that I don't understand anyway. I long for the days of analog.
     What has been done has been done. The witty bit of writing that was my last blog post has been lost in the world of cyberspace and I can't get it back.  This is tragic, although I think that the world will keep on spinning. However, you will not discover the true joy of my wit that I created in Thursday's post. That is sad.  Don't worry though, the problem seems to be fixed and I have come to an understanding with my computer. I'll hit the keys and share my wit, and you just take care of the 0's and 1's.  I am the brains behind this operation, and you are just a tool in my success. I love you, most of the time, but please keep the relationship in perspective. You serve me, I don't serve you.
     That's it for today as I commit this wonderful bit of literaturial drivel to the highway that is the internet. By the way, what is the internet anyway. Computers talking to other computers.  Now there is a scary idea.

Kind of looks like the inside of my brain.Don't touch the lever on the right!

It's a Computer Conspiracy

     I  think that computers are out to get us. Its true.  They were intended to make life better for us, but that is  not the case. Their hidden agenda is now starting to surface and has reared it's ugly head with my computer. That modern tool that I depend on every day is now on the fritz, with no ill feelings toward Fritz.
     I am not going to describe what is happening to my modern marvel of technology. What the heck, I couldn't describe it anyway so why bother. The darn thing just isn't working right.  More importantly, my puny attempts to fix it have been met in utter frustration--mine not the computer's.  I think that it is laughing at me. They share these things with other computers. Computers compare notes you know, sharing how they have completely made their human users go bonkers. I think they call it interfacing, and they know.
     Those of you who are conspiracy theorists can take heart with this one. I don't know who shot JFK and I don't know if Roswell was really an alien spacecraft crash site.  What I do know is that they are out to get us--computers I mean. What do all those 0's and 1's mean anyway. What is going on in their beady  little binary minds. How can we really foul up that human today? That's what is going on.
     I agree with the noted philosopher, whose name is Unknown. That's a strange name, isn't it? Why did his mother call him unknown.  Was she mad at him or something.  History does not mention this. He or she did write a lot though as many philosophical sayings and writings are credited to Unknown. 
    What did that philosopher Unknown say about this, as I return to the original subject.  Sorry, my ADD kicked in and I got a little off subject. I will leave you with this and what they said.  "To err is human. It takes a computer to really foul things up." AMEN!

My Able-Bodied Computer Technician

Breakfast of Champions

     I don't like to eat breakfast.  The most important meal of the day and I are not on good speaking terms. It should be the easiest thing in the world to do, just go into the kitchen and pour a bowl of Froot Loops and enjoy, but I just don't feel like it each morning. Shame on me I guess.
     Americans like a hearty breakfast.  Eggs, bacon, ham or sausage and some hash browns provide the necessary nourishment to hold you off to the next meal. Denise likes oatmeal, and I was once on the oatmeal gravy train as well. It seems as though the gravy was taken away, due to it's high fat content and the train, and Amtrak train by the way, derailed going around a curve at 100 plus miles an hour. I just don't take the time to fix it. My qualifications for creating a fine bowl of oatmeal are well documented, but I choose not to utilize those skills. Was that a cunning way to say that I am lazy.  You can take it for what it is on face value. I won't admit to anything.
     Froot Loops are not the best of breakfasts.  I do on occasion breakfast on Maple Frosted Mini Wheats or maybe some raisin bran.  I like raisin bran, especially the raisins and have a technique to eat them.  There has to be at least two raisins in every bite. I love raisins and I thank God for inventing them, but I still don't like to eat breakfast.
     Last night my wife went to Jamba Juice and brought home some smoothies.  I like their strawberry collada smoothie. I didn't drink much of it last night because I was very full from the crap I scrounged up last night for dinner. I put it in the 'fridge and am drinking it now. They are nutritious, right?  After all, they contain strawberries, pineapple, coconut milk, and orange juice. Those are some healthy ingredients and the smoothie contained no meat or animal products. That ought to make you animal lovers out there happy. I won't go there though.
     Got to run now. Denise wants to go to Dublin and look over some music at the music publishers store. I'm enjoying my smoothie.

Yup.  It's what's for breakfast.