Son Lights You

Turn around, look what's happened one more time
Somethin's wrong, I can't find a reason or a rhyme
But if you find out, don't try to tell me cause I can't feel anything at all
Sun lights you, ya gotta shine on through so I can have it all

If you find, lots of other reasons to keep me near
Don't tell me, I think I've had it all way up to here
Yeah but if ya find out, don't try to tell me cause I can't feel anything at all
Sun lights you, ya gotta shine on through so I can have it all
But I...

Got to find a reason, to feel the way I do
I'm gettin' kinda tired of pleasin' them, but I want you here beside me yes I do

So turn around, and take a good long look at what they're tryin' to do to me
No matter how hard I look you know I just can't seem to see... but ya know I
Got to find a reason, to feel the way I do
I'm gettin' kinda tired of pleasin' them, but I want you here beside me yes I do

Angel #9
Pure Prairie League

Thankfully, there's no expiration date for good music. :^)

One Ring To Bind Them

"I can probably get it on...maybe...but I wouldn't be able to get it off without stripping the flesh off my finger, or cutting it off (the ring, not the finger...although I could cut the finger off I would prefer not to, since I'm attached to it (the finger not the ring)(of course, symbolically I'm attached to the symbol of the ring n' what it represents) (not to mention, cuttin' my finger off would purty much defeat the purpose)," I said.

Okay, I'm gettin' ahead of myself here. Sorry 'bout that. You see, the meds I take and/or the disease I have make my fingers (and knuckles) swell up somethin' fierce.
This presents a problem when I wear my wedding ring since the ring doesn't also swell up.
Therefore, I can't wear my wedding ring most times or for very long without possiblly severely (digital) consequences.

Yes, I know I can wear my ring on a necklace, but that's too easy. Apparently.
Patti is determined to find a way for me to wear the ring on my finger...permanently.
I assume she wants this to happen without anything bad happenning to my finger (hey, I ain't gonna ask her).

So I suggested getting a tattoo of a ring on my wedding finger. Afterall, Patti has mentioned I never got a tattoo and has suggested I get a Navy themed one since it's customary (or used to be) for sailors to do so.
But I never have had the desire. Too expensive. Never saw one I wanted until I die. Take your pick.
But I can go with a ring tattoo. It's practical and it probably still costs more than a real gold or silver (or both) (basically, anything that don't turn my skin green) ring.

She weren't too keen on that idea. I have no idea why (suggestions are welcome).

So I suggested those "adjustable" type of rings...there's several kinds...but Patti is worried about the sanitation of those kind of rings and how they would be kept clean of germs.

"Well, that's easy," I sez. "Just dip it in some whiskey every once in awhile."

I could tell that Patti was not amused...nor was she taking my excellent idea seriously.

"Okay, I can use wood grain alcohol," I sez (although whiskey would be prefferable, I didn't sez) (see, I'm willin' to negotiate).

That idea fell flatter than a tater pancake without taters.

So now she's lookin' for a ring that's big enough to go over my swollen finger (and kuckles).

"But what about when it's too big?" I asked.

"Then put it on your middle finger," she advised.

...

...

...

Is she serious? I wondered. And she thinks my tattoo idea or adjustable ring ideas are dumb?

"Okay...okay, I got a really good idea!" I said, filled chock full of inspiration.

It was almost like an epiphany so cool was this new idea of mine.

"If I hafta wear the ring on my middle finger then I can simply draw an arrow pointing to my ring finger!" I concluded, amazed at how easily I had solved this dillemma (again).

Surely, Patti will be impressed with my cleverness and wit...surely...she's...not.

Woman, what do you want from me? Tap tap tap...is this marriage on? Hello?

ShadoWar

Pixels? We don't need no steenkin' pixels.






My shadow don't take kindly to fools, as you can see. I don't think it likes me all that much either. There may or may not be a connection there. At night, what appears so obvious during the day is not so cut n' dry.

Fast Times At Zombie High

"We're not gonna make it!" I said, as we hurled towards the chasm at seventy miles per hour.

The rest of the story after this important message:

In light of the recent posts at One Cosmos, where Bob is talkin' about sleep, death, life, and dreams n' stuff (very fascinating, btw), I figured I would post a dream I had a few nights ago.
A dream with a special guest, our very own Rick! Why was Rick in my dream? Well, I dunno, but I'm glad he was, 'cause we were fightin' zombies and tryin' not to be their next meal. Always nice to have help in that regard, although it's nice to have a friend like Rick visit any time, not just during zombie outbreaks.

Let's show a scene so you can get a better idea, shall we?



Jest kiddin', it wasn't like that.

"It better not be," I can hear Patti sayin'.

Good advice. You sure don't need any, um...distractions when yer fightin' zombies (or anything else for that matter).


Okay, this is closer to what we saw, minus the signs. Yeah, as if ZomGorians are any real threat to our survival...well, come to think of it they actually are, but that's not the zombies we saw.


That's about as close as I can find given the time restrictions I have. Yes, it was during the day, the dream setting that is, although I was dreamin' at night.

Now, to complete the dreamslack production as best I can so that you get O more fuller sense of what I'm talkin' about, there was a cool soundtrack running during the dream. Not loud and blaring, but if you listened you could definitely hear it, and yet Rick and I could still talk and hear each other without yelling.

In a place you only dream of, where your soul is always free
Silver stages, golden curtains, filled my head plain as could be
As a rainbow grew around the sun, all the stars I've loved, who died
Came from somewhere beyond the scene you see, these lovely people played just for me

Now if I let you see this place where stories all ring true
Then will you let me past your face to see what's really you?
It's not for me I ask this question as though I were a king
For you have to love, believe and feel, before the burst of tambourines take you there

Green grass and high tides forever
Castles of stone, soul and glory
Lost faces say we adore you
As kings and queens bow and play for you

Those who don't believe me, find your souls and set them free
Those who do, believe and know that time will be your key
Time and time again I've thanked them for a peace of mind
That helped me find myself amongst the music and the rhyme that enchants you there

Green grass and high tides forever
Castles of stone, soul and glory
Lost faces say we adore you
As kings and queens bow and play for you

Ah, The Outlaws. Is that significant? Well, they are one of the most underrated bands I ever heard, and it's significant to me, including the lyrics.
Anyhow, let's get to the dream, shall we?

They're everywhere, I thought, as I brought down two more zombies in quick sucession with my Winchester.

I had waited until they shambled close enough so I could easily make the head shots.
After shooting them I ran. Fortunately, I was faster than the zombies, but there was so many of them all around me, closing in...slowly...but surely.
I quickly reloaded my winchester, and realized I was gettin' low on ammo. I had a .45 for back-up with a few extra clips, but even if every shot I made was a head shot I wouldn't have enough ammo to stop all the zombies, and I was gettin' tired.

Will I hafta consider the unthinkable? I wondered, looking around for a way out of my predicament.

I had a few minutes 'tll the zombies got close enough. The sun was high overhead but it wasn't unduly hot. Sure, I was sweatin' but more from exertion than heat.
My eyes lingered on some dark clouds on the horizon to the west, travelling east from the Pacific.
Rain would be welcome, if I could survive that long.

Guess I'll go in the direction of the fewest zombies, I thought, heading southwest.
Actually, it looked like there was only a few hundred in that direction, but like the rest they were all converging on me.
They either saw or heard me. Or both. Hell, maybe they smelled me. I was, after all, on the top of their menu.

The city I was in looked familiar but I couldn't quite place it. It felt like I had been here before, a long time ago, before the zombies.

Man, I hate cities. I looked around for any additional weapons I could use as I got closer to the zombies. I passed a few fresh skeletons, their mouths open in apparent terror. Perhaps they were yesterday's menu, I thought, swatting at all the flies in their vicinity.

There was no buildings between me and the zombies. Well, none that weren't obviously overrun. As I got closer I began picking them off, taking careful but quick aim, and making every bullet count. Damn! I missed one. Shake it off. Breathe. Aim...got it. Lever in another round. Aim...shoot. Lever. Aim...shoot.

Not looking good, I thought, shouldering my rifles and pulling my Colt .45. I wasn't doin' too bad, but I missed a helluva lot more heads with the .45. Shootin' a moving target in the head ain't easy under the best of conditions. Add to that: adrenaline, fatigue, and the slow and slight but unpredictable jerking of the zombies as they shambled towards me and I was actually surprised I was hittin' approximately 60% of my intended targets.
The percentage went up as the zombies got closer but that wasn't reassuring.

"Damnit!" I shouted, releasing my first clip and slapping in another.

Fifteen feet...10 feet...getting too close. I backed up slowly, still firing and fighting the urge to panic. I could use my rifle as a club, I thought, but for how long? The zombies weren't abnormally, or even normally strong, but they would still overwhelm me from the sides and rear...soon.

Honk! Hoooonk! Hoooonk!

I jumped at the sound and the zombies hesitated. It was a car! I realized, replacing another clip and quickly looking around. To my right...not a car, a jeep, headed my way full bore. I popped off another few zombies and ran towards it as fast as I could.

Thank you Jesus, I thought, as I ran. The driver screeched to a halt and stood up, firing at the zombies following me.

"Come with me if you wanna live," he said.

"Rick! Good line!" I exclaimed, trying to laugh and breath at the same time. I opened the passenger door and hopped in as Rick did a u-turn and headed back the way he came, towards the ocean.

"Been busy I see," Rick said, smiling grimly.

"What took you so long?" I quipped, smiling back.

"I thought I was a goner. Not sure if I could've..." I continued, leaving the last part unsaid. There was no reason to say it.

"Yeah. I know," Rick said. "Got some water and jerky in the back if you want some."

"What, no cold beer?" I asked, finding a canteen and quenching my thirst.

"Well, we could stop for some if you really want..."

"No, no! Water is good enough. Maybe later we can..."

"Hold on, it's gonna be a bumpy ride!" Rick said.

Up ahead were some more zombies headed our way. Rick ran over a few, avoiding most of them and zig zagged through, hitting one every now and then but not slowing down.

I decided to put my seatbelt on.

"I'm not that bad of a driver," Rick said, as he mowed down a few more zombies.

"It's not you, it's the other drivers I'm worried about," I said.

"Yeah, but the pedestrians are murder," Rick replied.

"Bad side of town," I said.

A few more zombie speed bumps later, we were through the worst of them, but we could still see zombies scattered about, and they headed in our direction once they noticed we were there. The way was now relatively clear though, so Rick hit the accelerator and I let out a sigh of relief.

I hadn't relaxed in Lord knows how long. The breeze felt good and I could smell the ocean. Things were lookin' up. Now if only we could find beer.

Then I saw it. It was a wide chasm in the road. Perhaps 50 feet across. I didn't notice it 'til we were right up on it. No way from the angle we could make it across in the jeep.

"We're not gonna make it!" I shouted, as we hurled towards the chasm at seventy miles per hour.

"Jump!" Rick shouted back, flooring it.

I unhooked my seatbelt and then we were airborn. I stood up, holding onto the roll bars as we sailed through the air. As the jeep began to drop I jumped...

TBC...

I Thank You

I rise at the break of day--your smile sets me on my way
I need you...

See the light shinin' in your eyes--see the hopes that I realize
For you...

I am alone...my odds are long...s'all I can do...
I need you...

Take the road where the eagle flies--man follows where his fortune lies
I leave you...

Shadows fall and the day is done--the curtain calls but more than anyone
I need you

When I feel low...my amps they blow...when I feel blue
I need you...

And I forget all my sorrow, I forget all my pain
I relinquish my doubts at the sound of your name
I can feel your desire when I walk through that door
I believe in the power that can even the score!

Never knew it could take so long--never knew it could feel so wrong without you
They say a woman knows the reasons why--no man ain't supposed to cry
I need you...

When after all...my tears they fall...when I pull through...
I need you...

I love you...

I thank you...

Grati-tude...

I considered grati-Dude but tude won out since it most fits the point-ed

For those who don't know ed, he's me-ed

I'm thankful for so much: God, my family, our United States, and you, my friends, brothers n' sisters under the pelt.

Thank you for your prayers, charity, encouragement, wisdom, knowledge, and humor.
I am truly honored to have the opportunity to know you guys a bit and...I truly do need you.

You know, I have heard it said a man (or woman) is known by the friends they keep.
I hope that's true, 'cause that's a whole lot better than myself. You guys have given me a hand UP, in more ways than one and that ain't no figure of speech neither. You have literally reached out to pull me up many times when I didn't wanna go...

"Hey! Let's camp here a bit longer. I'm tired guys, I hurt, I...not buyin' it eh? Yeah, those are lame excuses I reckon. Aww Ok, fine, I'll go. I sure don't feel like it though. Just so's you know.
Wow! look at that view! It's more than worth the trouble n' pain to get here! I'm honored to sail with you all! Thanks for sneakin' me onboard!"

Yeah, there are times I definitely don't wanna continue my journey of transcendence toward Truth, Goodness n' Beauty, and there are times I can't wait to get to the next port.
I reckon that lately I've been really draggin' my heels, but you guys help remind me of that which I can't forget, and time is indeed short...so...hey, I'm sorry for laggin' behind and not visiting with you as much as I used to.
There really ain't no good excuses, especially in view of what many of the saints went through and the martyrs...their self sacrifice is truly humbling.



I hope n' pray that if I'm ever given the opportunity to sacrifice my life for others (in a material and/or spiritual sense) that I choose to do so without regard for my own life.

Thanks guys! Happy Thansgiving! Now where's the beer?



This post brought to you by Skippy, the best peanut butter in the world. It hasta be if the late, great Charlton Heston ate it.

I need you (revised a bit-ed)

Beware The Phantom!

"Did you make coffee this morning?" Patti asked.

"No, not yet," I replied.

"Darn, I thought I smelled coffee brewing. I must have dreamed it," she said, obviously disappointed.

"Well, go back to sleep and have a cup while I make some," I quipped.

This went down better than our last conversation the previous night:

"I have one of those imaginary toothaches," Patti said, rubbing her jaw.

I knew she meant "phantom" toothache, but...I couldn't resist.

"I got an imaginary headache," I replied.

Well, it seemed funny at the time. Certainly I didn't intend to sound insensitive to her phantom (and material) sensitivities. Okay, I'm not sure what I was thinking. Perhaps I was imaginary thinking...yeah, that's it.

Needless to say, Patti got the last word.

"Yeah, to go along with your imaginary brain."

She jest don't get me sometimes, but she's not alone. I also jest don't get me sometimes.

Stay tuned for the next chapter where I'll be investigating the scene of a crime.
Literally.
Make sure you bring yer detective hats, 'cause there is bound to be mythstery gah!-lore!



BTW, I'm sure glad most American voters are fed up with the direction our neo-commie democrats have been taking our country. There's a long laundry list of stuff folks are fed up with, but the two things most folks are most angry about, at least around here, is the historic assault on our liberties and unprecedented out-of-control spending smug politicians (including the RINO's) that makes the mafia (of all nationalities), yakuza, triad, drug cartels, etc., green with envy.

I mean, really, most folks simply don't like the audacity of class envy pushed by crooked politicians who attempt to legalize stealin' our freedoms and our property (and our children and grandchildren's property).

Not to mention the racism of many of these same scoundrels. They sought to divide us n' conquer us by propaganda n' force (hope n' change they call it).
Instead, they awoke a sleeping giant, the American patriot, and we united to put a stop to this BS!
'Cause nobody, I mean nobody! messes with our Constitution, no matter what they call it and gets away with it.

So, in celebration of our victory (and hopefully many more, 'cause this war of ideas ain't over but we won this battle) I offer this excellent image to drink in and appreciate:



Good dog!

And a bonus!



Yes, we can!

Shinglelarity

What's more fun than gettin' shingles on the weekend? Why, gettin' more shingles than ever before and spreading them out, so most body parts don't feel left out.
Feet, legs, waist, trunk, arms and...ears? And rather than the mostly asymetrical shingle population explosion, these are mostly symetrical.

That means, you guessed it, I got commie shingles. Damn red bastards are everywhere! I reckon some might call it viral justice. You know, "justice," in the vein of the socialcom code word the socialcoms use to "justify" socialcommie BS.
Viruses of the world unite!

Actually, socialcommies are viruses in a literal sense since they attack their host and, without proper treatment, could make their host very sick, even killing it. Plus, they are...pathological...liars. Ha ha. Sorry, I couldn't resist.
The green strain of socialcoms are flush-eating bacteria. Badumdum! Cue cymbal.

Ahem. Okay, I won't give up my day job if I had one.

Personally, I'm more of a fan of justice justice, or, what patriots like to call justice.
I mean, seriously, do socialcoms really believe that stealin' our liberty n' property and giving most of it to bureaurats, thieves n' deadbeats (but I repeat myself), and a very small amount goin' to maybe a few folks who really need it (and are best served by true charity in the form of a hand up rather than a handout) equals some kind of "justice?"

Well, maybe they really do believe that, and maybe they really do have "good" intentions, but they are still dead wrong.
Regardless, I'll save my goodwill n' sympathies for the folks these well-meaning viruses are makin' sick, and yes, killin'.

Yep, when it comes to socialcoms, my pity meter is busted. The best I can muster is to offer some self evident truth's and a dose of reality. But in the end you can't force folks to believe that life, liberty and property and the freedom and creativity that promotes is better than livin' in a hive mentality collective of statist fascism.
A wise man said you can't fix stupid and another wise man said you can't fix a fool (although neither is necesarily exclusivee other).
All you can do is clarify the choices and the consequences.

To paraphrase Sylvester Stallone in Cobra: Socialcoms are the disease. We patriots are the cure.

Yikes, I went off on another tangent. This can happen in the shinglelarity which causes the event verizon to do all sorts of sci-fie crap to blog posts. I don't know what that means but it sounds cool.

I reckon tomorrow or soon I may hafta go check into the VA for some inpatient inpatienting and anti-biotics. Hopefully not. Last time I got shingles this bad I spent three weeks there. But this time I don't got it in my eye, so it should be a breeze. An itchy, burny (hurts like hell!) breeze without beer but still a breeze.
Could be worse (I know. You think I would stop sayin' that, but I'm feelin' up to a good challenge. Or bad challenge with good results? I dunno).

Stay tuned. :^)