Sometimes Genius, Sometimes Fool

Poking Fun At…Well, Every Thing

I’m too tired…from this…

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I Rule You!  (E) C’mon! we have some pansies to beat. #2306223 by citizen journalist 5k

Yes, I do spend a lot of time day dreaming.
What? A think tank?
If they put my brain in a jar?
Yes, this is me talking to me with another thought’s hat on.

What is a metaphor?

Yes, that is from Community when Britta explains metaphor to Jeff.

I swear I can catch that tail that keeps chasing me. Just give me…another 30…years. I might be tired by then.
Where will you be? Not in a lab experiment?
Okay, then you’ll know where to find me.
Yes, I’ll see ya when I’ll see ya.

Yes, from Community. But, I don’t think they get…
Right, but that wasn’t the first time I heard the…heyyyy!

Oh, you’re tired?
See ya. That wasn’t so diff….rude.

Now, back to what I was saying to myself. Oh, I’m still writ-ting?

Yes, I do know the difference between talking and writing, but I think if I were a bit lazier, I could it in. It’s just these pesky emoticons that inspire memes in my dreams…are you writing that down?
Uh-huh. Go on…
2.15.26

It’s freaky, but my mind came up with another song for this portion of the soundtrack of my life.


Does any of this sound ‘discouraged’ to you?
You really don’t know me.
Have you ever thought about caring for humanity? Killing it won’t save you.

Unless, how much money you worth?
Is your hair yellow cotton candy?


I’m not going to edit this for a while. Maybe, the typos wil amuse you. (Although, I can point this index finger at Apple for most of that…and another finger.)
I would flex on you…but, I’ve played with your kind before.

Mom said. Oh, the song. *Looks it up*
Did you feel it? Love going out of Valentine’s Day like helium from a balloon, a corner ceiling float descending behind the recliner, where we play after all humanity…fill in the rest…

T̵̢̝̗̰̪̠̹͗̾̾h̵̥͉̲̠̍̽͛̌͂̆̚ě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆ Ab̴̦̄̈͐̾̑̚͝s̸͉̻̃͘ě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆n̴̝͚͎͔̘̰̅ͅcě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆ o̷͍̥̣̺͋f̶̭̱̘͇͊͋̾̋̄͆ Wa̴͙͓̓̕vě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆l̵̩̘̯̪͋͒͒̉͒̄ě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆n̴̝͚͎͔̘̅ͅg̸̫͙̻̭͐͝ț̴̵̢̝̗̰̪̠̹̈́͌͆̑͋͂̅͗̾̾h̵̥͉̲̠̍̽͛̌͂̆̚            

Come at me, bro!

You’d never get a word in, edgewise. Hmm, origin of that word.
I’ll never stop learning, craving information.
I bet you know the type.
You hate that person.
Leave some time for yourself …
To love yourself, silly.

I got two cans of nonsense here.
Which one do you want me to spray on you first?

And the worst blog post award goes to…a 90-way tie…all about…sorry, the handwriting is not legible.

Legible? Hmm, AI?

I said, ALL DAY, son!

Why wouldn’t he just play one sport?

He’s better off than me.

I’m that guy — to everyone. Just give it enough time.
Mom did NOT have me tested. And, it wouldn’t have made a difference.
Look at all of you. Right. Introspection. But, it doesn’t have to come with a can of guilt.
What have you been spraying yourself with?

Yes, that did end on a preposition.
No, you’re the pedantic one…the party of the first part.
Did I not just say…you know…about me.

It’s like talking to my brother at bed time from the upper bunk, but it’s just me writing.
I think, I now know why we switched beds when we got older.

I sprayed him with the good can. What do you think? What could I?

Right. Go to sleep.
This could have ended…shhhh, my mom’s coming…

Everybody could have been my best friend, buttttt…

I’m me. Too much.
I’ve lived with it for…counts on hands, feet, looks around for about 40 more digits.

Sorry, mom.
She became a Cub Scout den mother, and figured out (rather recently), to bring friend prospects to me.
It worked for part of a summer when I was 12.
Gordon watched me collect 33 bees in one jar, one day.
It broke. I now know how cyclones start, in slow motion, further proving — that insect is not the avenging type. And, a friend.
So, now you know.

Yeah, he’s not making any sound up there. Sometimes, I think he fakes…er, faked.
Flash light just died. So much for comics.

This is what promoted lifelong insomnia.
Yup, I just got that.

Good thing I also was physically active 12-16 hours every day, when not reading graphic novels in whatever dark.
I quietly competed, kept games close, so I kept friends…but had to satisfy a need to win. Losers don’t come back,so I became “loser”.
What kinds of friends did they stock in my neighborhood? People who needed something to reject, feel better about themselves. My instinct was to do for others, or…nothing for me. But, learned to sit back and enjoy my kind of charity. Never felt empty, just frequently alone.

How can you be alone in nature, especially if you’re with you.

I stayed up all night to write her two Valentine’s poems with picture post on Facebook.
(Insert crickets)
I woke at 9:20 pm yesterday. She went to bed shortly after. I might be sleeping…now.

When I stay up, one of the three cats sleeps in the chair across from me.
He follows me to the bathroom. Visits at the sink when I brush.
He meows like ‘where’d everybody go?’ when I meow back. He wants to lay in my lap. Can’t get comfortable. My wife is softer. He practically will wrap around her neck like a fur collar, when not mimicking her as body pillow.

My mom died in 1999. My dad died nearly a year later. My brother died two years ago…hmmm…tomorrow.

Maybe, I’m a pest and annoying like a cat that just doesn’t know what to do with himself, but has us as parents who got him other cats to play with. I think he’d rather be a human. What does that make me?

Goodnight. (Pretend hears sirens outside, too lazy to type asterisks…hmm, word origin?)

Like I said…edits…later…oh, song. Right. Yup, still in my head. I’ll put it below, instead…



“I won’t take the easy road,” on a lyrical loop. I could have written the song in the lyricist’s dream

Too much?

If I shortcut life, I will regret. But regret pales as time moves forward. My buckets have been full half a life ago. Doubled and flowing over because I’m with family…the true dream. And a good reality to wake to, and say, I did that.

You do you. Whatever that is. You won’t know me, if none of this reaches. If some inane bias makes you indignant, I’d say I’d worry for you. But, I think you think you got it covered. Just know, I was here. You can’t just edit out parts/gifts that mattered. Regret is selling anything short. Give people more credit, starting with yourself.

Vrooom! I just don’t quit.

I’m old enough, seasoned enough from experience to lecture. But, ears and selectivity are a part of our shared relativity, going in reverse. You think some false outside influence manipulates our unbound unity, trying to get the ‘right thing’, disconnect from what we deep within know is right?

But, someone indignantly rubbed something all over a bully’s face, as it walks around like there isn’t anything nthere. It’s not brave to intimidate, to make silent. It’s only more foolish. One day, someone will snap out of it and ask ‘what was that all about’? Chalk it up to ‘it is what it is’, not because you can’t explain it, but futility to admit modern civilization enslaves minds, dictates actions and words, by getting idiot neighbors to be arrogant, ego-serving, PC police, like I’m the counter-intuitive one acting a fool/criminal? Nuh-uh. Between us, who’s really ignorant and admitting it, claiming virtue is vulnerability over the unnecessary humility the mindless and arrogant apply, because they’re ’trying to watch the game’…and try to keep up in their Stockholm.

You’ve been conned.

I can’t get my priorities straight in the asymmetry of fucked up humanity, dying on the vine because more of our time, money and gifts are being manipulated and accessed without respect, because leaders say obligation, or act like they need our charity. Again, save some sunshine for yourself. You’re absolutely not selfish to be the center of your universe. We praise people we don’t even know, who false-humbly relish themselves champions, building their brand. If you’re Drew Brees, I like you fine. If your Alex Ridriguez, how the hell? Brett Favre. You’re just an idiot who they pumped up, built up and stood up, so championships could restore a once great franchise. A tome would follow here.

The innocence is gone. Virtue is lacking and a madman is caricature of everything that symbolizes the end of a free world. I’m not dreaming electric sheep, or being Elon Musk’s cyborg, because technology has gotta keep goin’ faster than comprehension. I smell a car salesman trying to close a deal. No one can slap sense into someone who’s got a thirst for power and money at this late hour. So, drink the kool-aid, or be anarchist? Again, I will regret shortcuts. What flavor you got?

Not enough sugar for that.

I need bed and to stop throwing my words away into a cesspool. I just don’t have time to value them, preferring to like myself. And value something that is bleeding me as a sucker. P.T. Barnum was the leech. Big Top Capitalism, walls, humanity genocide…take your pick, apathy-influenced, will-be compliant, finger-pointing assailant of whatever destroys what bonds of whatever unity, like the mitochondria building up inside all, in a global greenhouse, full of its own methane.

Now, I won’t sleep.

I’ll likely take this down, after that edit.
I used to be a journalist. Sidelined, I’m not itching to get back in, because I can get myself fired up and then fired in five minutes.

Read me, know me. Ask questions. But most of all, be more than fair for reciprocity’s sake. This is your ‘village idiot’ speaking.