Archive from November, 2008

Winter Words

I’m a bad Santa, a Grinch and yuletide curmudgeon of the highest order and I admit it.
Just the thought of this most blatantly commercial and candy-cane-twisted holiday sends me running for my dimly lit cave high on Mount Crumpit.
I’ll level with you and say that in my icy-cold heart I will always harbour a love
for the Christmas holiday with its ‘peace on earth, goodwill toward men’ mentality
but jeepers creepers how many lameass Mercedes Benz commercials can these ding-a-lings make?
Even if I had the dough I would never put a giant red bow on an SL550 and give it as a present.
You gotta be one hell of a pretentious douchebag to pull that one off.
I hardly ever watch TV and at this time of the year, even more so.
Television is where your radar picks up on all the subliminal horseshit this holiday has sadly come to represent.
Every year I try and trick myself into believing that I still hold close the personal ties of holidays past.
I’d be better off sticking my head into a steaming pile of reindeer shit.
Working retail does little but mar and mutilate a spirit that’s sadly on the ropes anyway.
I don’t hear the silver bells and I can’t see the blinking colored lights (unless they’re from a cruiser pulling me over for a busted taillight, Merry Christmas, ossifer)
Maybe it’s a psychological omission on my part, a defense mechanism to keep me from losing my plate of milk and cookies.
I should have dumped this post to Crumpit when I had the chance but I also felt it was only fair to explain my ‘month of December’ frosty sense of discontent.
If you visit here around the holidays you’ll notice that Mick gets very quiet.
I choose to leave my thoughts in a quiet place where silent snow falls, stars twinkle and the moon is always full.
It’s only in this blue crystal space that I build my sky-high snow forts of thought, ideas dripping like icicles in my frozen castle of winter words.
Maybe this will be the year that I somehow find a way to melt the walls of snow I’ve piled high, my vast emotional fortress of sorts.
Maybe this will be the time I find the absolute truth that lives peacefully inside a holiday I can honestly say I miss.
Then reality taps me on the shoulder and says, “Read This, Grinch.”
Yeah, we’re off to a brilliant start.
And people wonder why I despise this holiday and what it currently represents.
God help us, everyone.
I’m going back to my dimly lit cave, thank you very much . . .

Nov 26, 2008 - Thanksgiving    10 Comments

Reading tURKeY

mE. cOOkING
gOOD. sTUFFING.
hAPPY tURKEY dAy, aLL
ALL nONSENSE, sUCH aS mE
mUST bE THE iMPeNDING dOsE oF tRYPTOpHAN . . .
Got a kick out of my malfunctioning CAPS key tonight.
Have a great Thanksgiving everybody.

Firefox3

I’m no computer geek but I have to say you should seriously think about downloading
Firefox3.
If you’re still using Internet Explorer, wake up, it’s a nastyass browser.
It sucks up more temp files than any browser currently known to man.
Temp files only insert dirty juice to slow down your machine.
Several months ago I downloaded FF3 and hated it.
I uninstalled it and re-loaded V2.
The bugs just weren’t worked out.
After watching this video, I changed my mind and decided to give it a go.
As of this moment, I’m pretty happy with it.
It’s faster and has some very creative features.
I will tell you that the machine it’s currently on is running Vista and I think that makes a difference.
Also, to keep your PC up and running, consider CCleaner, a little program with
incredible cleaning power in terms of temp files and internet clutter.
It also has a registry cleaner that works quite well.
Stop using Internet Explorer!

Firefox is free and totally amazing.
That was my little technological rant.
Hope it helps.
For Firefox3 look to my left sidebar and click it.
Again, watch out if you’re running XP.
As of several days ago there were still some minor glitch issues.
Regarding FF, as Nike says, “Just do it.”

Difficult Times {3}

Sometimes, the problems you must face
are more than you wish to cope with,
and tomorrow doesn’t seem to offer any solutions.

You may ask yourself, “Why me?”
but the answer is sometimes unclear.
You may even tend to feel that life hasn’t been just or fair
to burden you with such obstacles.

The roads any of us choose to follow are never free
of bumps or curves,
but eventually the turns lead to a smoother path ahead.

Believe in yourself and your dreams.
You will soon realize that the future holds many promises
for you.
Remember . . .  difficult times don’t last forever.

~Geri Danks

{dedicated to my three girls}

Sexy laughs

This weekend Pamela and I are going to see a favorite comedian named Jim Gaffigan.
{a surprise anniversary present from Pamel}
Gaffigan’s last tour, “Beyond the Pale” brought him SRO fame.
He’s currently sold out multiple performances in Boston.
I found a video interview regarding his new show, “The Sexy Tour”.
It’s a spoof but it’s a good one.
If you’ve yet to see the man, watch “Hot Pockets” or “Holidays
Phunny stuff.
I know it’s only Thursday but I’m pretty much gone for the weekend.
Enjoy the video.
Catch you guys next week.

Ghosts of M

If this is your first time visiting here you may want to click on the picture above.
On the ‘Ghosts‘ page you will find writing that holds special meaning for me.
It’s a good indicator as to the overall content of the blog as well.
For some reason I blew the page away and just realized it the other day.
That said, If this page does nothing for you, better saddle up and head on over to Mantown,
another blog I occasionally post on.
On vacation this week but posting will be light.
I will visit as many cyber-friends as possible as long as it doesn’t
interfere with my afternoon catnap.

{yes, I’m kidding}

:mrgreen:
Have a great week, peoples . . .

Beginnings

Tonight is very special.
A dear friend has finally flown off to a place that is all her own.
I’m so happy she’s come back to the blogosphere because she adds so much to it.
I feel I don’t need to say much more than that.
I will tell you to visit her not because she is dear to my heart
but because she will inevitably change your life in magical ways should you read her blog long enough.
She calls it as she sees it and makes no bones about where she stands.
I am blessed that she considers me a close friend.
Click on the picture above and go to the very beginning of something very special.
You can thank me later.
You Rock, Moe . . .

Blogger, not me

I have caught up on most comments and commented on many blogs.
But I will admit, I have been a bad blogger lately.
Not the worst but definitely not the best.
A very long work week combined with a busy life in general has grabbed me by the cojones.
I am taking a vacation starting at 6PM tomorrow. (EST)
I will be around and plan on posting a few things during the week but, in the words of the AWB,
I have work to do.
I thank all of you for the visits and the comments.
I will visit my folks on the blogroll as well.
No worries.
See you all on the flipside of the blogosphere.
Gonna take Frankie’s advice for now . . .

My father’s hats

On most days my father wears a baseball hat.
Even when he was well if he wasn’t working he was wearing some type of baseball hat.
It was an intrinsic part of his daily get up.
It was usually the Red Sox, maybe the Celtics but NEVER the NY Yankees, God forbid, he would rather die than to be caught wearing one of those.
He still wears a hat these days although he would be hard pressed to tell you which hat he was wearing.
Truth be told, on any given day lately I’d have a tough time telling you what hat I‘m wearing.
I was talking with my sister Moe the other day and
she told me a very interesting story about our father and one of his ‘hats’.
She came down last weekend to see ‘Dad’ and wheeled him down to the quaint chapel in the nursing home for Sunday morning mass. She had called ahead to ask that he be cleaned up and shaved and dressed nicely, the proverbial cherry on the sundae, his baseball hat.
They got to the chapel where I’m assuming my sister knelt and said a prayer or two (thousand) . . .
As she sat back she noticed that Dad’s hat was sitting in his lap.
She swears she did not take it off, she was sure of that.
He took it off himself.
My sister took it as a sign that our father still acknowledges the fact that he is in a place that’s sacred and taking off your hat is something you do out of reverence and respect.
Maybe she’s right.
I took it more as a sign that says she and I will never be alone in this shattered ordeal that’s slowly nearing its very blue end.
Either way, I know that I wanted to remember the moment even though I couldn’t be there.
And though it’s doubtful that our father said one single prayer that morning, I’m confident that he left the chapel with more blessings than anyone else in the place.
And I’m positive he put his baseball cap right back on as he left.

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