Thank God I’m a confused City Boy (who lives in the country)

Cattle

The Cows Think my minivan is sexy

I was born, raised, and lived most of my life in a major metropolitan area. City boy is a good term and I am not sure at this point whether its something I need to be apologetic about or not. All I know is because I have lived “Up North” most of my life. Have had only a little exposure to farms, cows, hay, pick-up trucks (never owned or operated one in my life), living “Down South”, or in the “country”.

My lovely bride and I recently moved to the Southern portion of our great nation within the last month. I was fully warned (and then some) by my sister of the culture shock I may possibly experience. The pace is slower (unless your driving then you better pick up the speed or get ran over) and so is the speech pattern of most folk (I feel that’s an appropriate term). People like to talk to you randomly, are actually friendly, out going and this freaks out most of us city people who are convinced they are up to something (I personally blame movies like “Children Of The Corn” for this phenomenon).

We have highways, freeways, and outer-belts in the city. They are highly congested with cars, car exhaust, painfully slow little old men in hats (with their left blinker on), slow little old women (with their right blinker on), speed demon morons, four wheel snow driving pin heads, plenty of head aches and Road rage. They have “highways” (only because of the comparison I use the term loosely) in the country. They are certainly not as congested, have a tendency to have more cows, farms, men (and women) in overall’s, and a lot less Star Bucks, CVS’s, Fast food places, gas stations, and Mega-Big box stores every five feet.

My drive to work is more scenic now. I have less cars, people, and urban blight to gaze upon and more of God’s beauty. The stuff that confuses me is when I am driving (what my city saturated mind would consider) down a “country” road and then find a speed bump. Don’t ask me why my obviously snooty britches mind would not expect country folk to want to protect their school age (or otherwise) children (or crazy uncle Ed.. Bless his heart) from being plowed over by (well.. a plow) a John Deer tractor or Pick up truck going a bazillion miles and hour. My sister also blew my mind by telling me they have a transport service that actually can be arranged for the elderly, or disabled. So again I find myself feeling pretty crappy that I obviously am assuming that sunshine just got pumped down here. Pardon me folk’s, I am truly am a cityiot.

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Its not over until the Fluffy person sings

Its the Candy Cops Charlie Brown!

Its the Candy Cops Charlie Brown!

A North Dakota woman says she’s giving out letters to children she believes are obese when they come to her door this Halloween. Bah Halloween hum bug lady. Who died and made you “candy cop”?!? Even if such thing as “candy cop” really existed Jean-Claude Van Damme would be much better as a time traveling Department Of Sugar Land Security agent with the mission to finally get the left and right twixt to reunite forces against overzealous nutritionists bent on making making everything taste like plaster board coated with paste.

I personally hate the terms “Fat”, “Obese” and don’t even get close to me with the term “Morbidly Obese”. Maybe it’s just me, but I can honestly feel the hate, neglect, lack of compassion and understanding just steaming off of them like a industrial complex happily chugging cancer causing smoke/exhaust into the air. I prefer the term “Fluffy”. Yes I am fluffy and I owe no one any apology of any kind for being so. I don’t need your well meaning advise, I don’t need a lecture on vegetables (how do you know I don’t eat vegetables? A salad? ), and I even though I am used to being called “Big Guy” I honestly think people really to think more about what they say before they say it.

Yes, I am quite aware that our nation is getting more overweight, but I am sorry this certainly does not give the media the right to do their obligatory fluffy mid section and posterior camera angles they are famous doing when doing a news story trying to convince everyone that fluffy people are ruining the world as we know it.

Larger airplane seats with arm rests that come up to give you even more room? Theater seats with arm rests that also lift and have cup holders? The return of the Twinkie and the raspberry zinger? Sugary cereal commercials with fully grown adults? The brilliant comedic shenanigans of John Candy? Jackie Gleason? Melissa McCarthy? Billy Gardell? Gabriel Iglesias? Ralphy May? Bruce Bruce? John Pinette? Ect? Your welcome skinny people, your welcome.

The Macho Man Vs The Sensitive Circus Clown

macho_man_randy_savage

One of my favorite bloggers touched on what exactly makes a man.. well manly? I have always rejected the square peg meets round hole stereo types, and notions. Mostly because I am willing to openly admit I don’t meet most of the what I personally feel are stupid notions. Men are tough, men don’t cry, men like being sweaty and dirty, men eat coal and crap diamonds, men are hunters, men hate hugging, men don’t show their feelings, men love fast cars and loose women, men wear beards (with no real offense meant to the real cast) and look like the cast of Duck Dynasty. The completely ridiculous Macho Man Randy Savage list goes on and on. Give me a break!

My older brother I feel certainly fits the bill of what I personally term a “Mans man”. He hunts, he owns and operates guns, he wears a lot of camouflage, rides a motorcycle, is moody, broody, and is more prone to punch you in the face or give you a hearty fist bump rather than give you a hug (just think of the uber-male that you see portrayed in a beer commercial and you get the idea) . Me on the other hand, I am not any of that at all. I (big surprise here) am more prone to be the sensitive hugging joker creative artistic clown who loves pretty flowers, puppy’s, and is easily distracted by laser lights and shiny objects. I love to wear colorful clothes, make my own accessories (necklaces, wrist bands), I am sorta obsessive about my clothes and how they match, have dyed my hair several colors, and yes I am thoroughly heterosexual without question because lets just say there are certain parts of the female anatomy that just send me into outer space.

This is not to say that I don’t have my moments as a typical guy (or husband). Even after being married for 25 years and knowing my wife for 30, I still have to remind myself that she really doesn’t want me to “fix” her problems (per say) but really just wants me to listen. Good luck ladies, guys are built to be builders, fixers, and problem solvers and anytime there is a chance to use tools, or duct tape we loose ourselves like a golden retriever looses itself over a tennis ball.

I guess my point here is to NEVER allow anyone, anywhere, for any reason try to pigeon hole you, control you, and tell you that you don’t fit the description of a Man or Woman. I tend not to trust public opinion because I never cared to do something just because “everyone is doing it”. In-fact, if anything I have always reserved the right to make my own mind at my own pace about my own life with no apologies for doing so. If you don’t like me or the way I do things then that is your problem not mine.

And then The Jabberwocky took over

Life: never mind being handed lemons and being expected to make lemonade. I prefer to see life as a test of how well you would make it as a circus clown being shot out of a completely ridiculous circus cannon that is more capable of shooting confetti, cream pies, and sparkly poodles than say: clowns.

God is most certainly is a comedian and the joke is is on me, you and your uncle Ed. I am a huge Looney Tune cartoon fan and there are these older ones that are produced by Tex Avery that just blow my freaking mind. Cartoon world is crazy enough as it is (I personally recommend Sponge Bob as a reference), but when Tex Avery took over all bets were off. Tex made absolutely certain you strapped yourself in because the ride was going to be like no other. My theory here is that Tex must have felt the same way about how nutty, crazy, and out of control life can be.

We have the nerve to honestly believe that a car ride across the desert is only and exactly that: a drive across the desert. Hey buddy! (smacks face to wake desert driver up) watch out for the anvils made by Acme! And yes, if you look carefully they are indeed being dropped in your path by a cartoon Coyote. Tunnel up a head? Great! That means that the fresh paint on the side of the rock stuck and the damage to your desert driving vehicle is NOT covered by car insurance provider X. (it is however covered by ACME insurance and you had no idea to opt into the Fake Tunnel damage waiver) Feet planted firmly on the ground? Future’s so bright you gotta wear shades? Don’t look now some rascally rabbit just painted a hole beneath you! Hope you packed a parachute! Its a looooooong way down.

The point I am trying to make here is life is a joke. The quicker you figure that out and start packing your seltzer bottle, anvil catapult, fake tunnel paint remover, black paint hole maker, carry a gun that shoots a flag that says: BANG!, and learn to set your mind to a place where circus cannons that have shown absolutely no ability to shoot anything heavier than a marshmallow will INDEED shoot your ***** pound body across the room then your trip is doomed.

Pardon me, I am expected to be shot out next. I certainly hope the cream pie I am diving into is blueberry, Its my favorite.

tex1

Apparently even weirdo Geeks can receive The Golden Goose Award

The Golden Goose Award

Be careful what you write, it may come back and tap you on the shoulder, whack you on the head, and pat you on the back. One of my favorite blogs The Grimm Report opened up their blog for submissions and they not only did they accept my submission , but they must have gone temporarily insane, posted it, and then proceeded to give me an award for my effort.

It’s really not for me to speak out of turn about what prescription medication the folks at The Grimm Report may be taking or what medication they should be taking instead but I guess I should go ahead and give an acceptance speech:

“By the power of Voltron, The Power Puff Girls, Spiderman, Spiderman, does whatever a Spider can, Iron Man, and in honor of all aliens, monsters, nerds, geeks, costumed cosplayers, weirdo’s, and dorks I do humbly accept and gratefully thank the People at The Grimm Report for the Golden Goose Award.

Apparently people seem to prefer their leaders (and monsters/aliens) spitting, snarling, yelling, and in dire need of deep psychotherapy.

AAAAAAAH !! !SPARTA!

AAAAAAAH !! !SPARTA!

:Warning may contain nerdy references to nerdy stuff :

Oh hello Leonidas, leader of the 300 (spit included) !SPARTA! Half naked (gosh that must be cold) warriors. You have a visitor from the Persian empire. I have heard of being kicked to the curb but do you have a habit kicking all your UN-welcomed guests into a well??

Spider Man’s dead uncle says with great power comes great responsibility. If you missed him saying it at least 3 times in the original Tobey Maguire version the people at Marvel Comics and Disney (who owns Marvel) were kind enough to repeat the phrase again a few more times in the next movie (again with Tobey Maguire).

What good old (and dead) Uncle Ben forget to mention was people (separately and in groups) seem to take you more seriously if your yelling, screaming, spitting, snarling, and have veins popping out of your neck and head. In other words all the stress anxiety filled behavior your cardiologist warned you against.

I have drawing, doodling, painting, coloring and creating for as long as I can remember. I have a online art gallery, and actually have shown some of my art work at a few local gallery’s. Most of my subject matter is inspired by comic books, aliens, monsters, and robots (big surprise huh?). My mom asked me one time why 90% of the aliens and monsters I draw are spitting and snarling. Well Gee mom, friendly monsters and aliens are a nice idea and such with the whole saving the world, kumbaya people holding hands, figuring old cold fusion, tree hugging, xenomorph sole kissing happiness and everything but spitting, snarling monsters and aliens with anger management issues are just plain cool.

Lets just be honest for a moment, your watching your favorite sports team. If the your team is stinking up whatever playing field they play on, do you really want the coach to give everyone on the team a hug, call them over for “soul palates”, have them hold hands and click their heels, burn scented candles, or sing a 80’s big hair power ballad to them on a karaoke machine? Absolutely NOT! You seriously expect the coach to yell, scream, look like he’s about to pop his top, spit, snarl, and yell loving hatred at them. The visit to the cardiologist and psychotherapist can wait for now, we have points to get on the board to get. Bragging rights at church and work are hanging in the balance here dang it.

Peter Parker (and Tobey Macguire) was a nice guy dork who got bullied, Spider Man was a nice guy dork with great powers (you say the rest I can’t take it any more), but Venom was Spider Man’s darker alien infused, spitting, snarling, cooler anger management weirdo doppelganger self. People paid attention to him, he was stinky, nasty, and would have made a great sports coach, half naked warrior leader, and a great candidate for psychotherapy. He will just have wait in line with Bobby Night, The Incredible Hulk, Wolverine, Charlie Sheen, Leather Face, The predator, The Terminator, and Sam Kinison.

Don’t look now, the Government is watching you watch a movie about the Government watching you

Open lap top, open a internet browser window, get a pop up. Pop up has a virus hoping to access your webcam. Right click.. get a message about adult diapers. You just sent a email joking about adult diapers and now every time you go to look at your email account there is a advertisement with a balding man looking ashamed he has to wear adult diapers. You click a picture of Edward Snowden and 10 days later your being audited by the IRS. You go to Yahoo movies, click on showtime’s for movies. A bush rustles near your kitchen window. You decide to see: “Closed Circuit” with Eric Bana. Its a “fictional thriller” about people being watched by the government. Your feeling overly paranoid so you try to choose between wearing your favorite tinfoil hat or the entire tinfoil suit you made one Saturday afternoon. GPS off, black masking tape over webcam, and you put on your NON squeaky shoes. Check,and check, you see a man across the street who looks like Tommy Lee Jones as a MIB. That is his happy face, the Government just admitted area 51 really does exist and he no longer has to be a personal body guard to a slimy alien. Now where did you put those sunglasses you DIY’d into a pair of night vision goggles???