Posts Tagged ‘threat

08
Mar
15

Tragic Personal Update

I’ll keep this brief as it’s hard for me to resort to pecking with one hand…

I fell on icy snow in a most foolish way.  It’s my fault I dislocated my left elbow.  I didn’t get immediate care…it’s a complicated story.  I saw lots of “professionals” with differing answers.  I had too many useless x-rays.  I was put under so strongly, I thought I died and didn’t sleep the next night.  I thought I’d dodge surgery and ended up with the worst news next to amputation.  My family is too trusting to support my doubts and all I have to help.  I am miserable, feeling hapless and helpless.  And, I can’t help feeling like people took advantage of me.

I’m not me…am I?  I don’t feel like my usual self, and that arm doesn’t match my right.

13
Jan
15

Violence Over Free Speech, You Say? Here’s My Response

As the TV peppers me with echoes of what’s been happening in Paris, France, I found this rhyme forming in my brain.  You may have heard it somewhere.

THIS IS MY RIFLE!

my-rifle-mouth_male-portrait-looksabitlikeme_silhouette-60prcnt-1J my-rifle-mouth_male-portrait-looksabitlikeme_silhouette-60prcnt-3JTHESE ARE MY GUNS!

my-guns-fist-n-footprint_440-fist-up-left-angle-pump_silhouette-1JTHESE ARE FOR FIGHTING!

these-R-4-fighting-fst-ft-n-mouth_440-fist-up-left-angle-pump_silhouette-1JTHESE ARE FOR FUN!

teamwritingbolt_business-people-silhouette-our-team_50percent-international-group-8J

Now, all you maggots creating such a stir over free speech, you take responsibility for what you say and realize when a choice of words might stir a hornet’s nest.  This Paris incident isn’t about creativity repressed by the artists’ own nation.  No.  It’s about foreigners not approving what they find in the local media/newspapers.  You wouldn’t want someone making crude or cruel jokes about your family, nationality or religion.  Would you?  So, why is it this one incident makes people rally in support of those who didn’t take the first warning to knock it off?  No, lethal violence wasn’t necessary.  But, how often does the boy have to cry wolf before the wolf goes postal?  There’s no Tootsie roll at the center of this dilemma, kids.

14
Jul
14

If Humans are Dr. Frankenstein…

…The internet and all the gadgets wired to obey it’s every command are the latest monster.

14
Jul
14

You Need to Get Lathed!

Have I told you the intense thrill I get from working with wood? I’m not talking about some run-of-the-mill joy you get from completing that dusty spice rack or bookshelf for your friend or family member. This thrill goes deeper than any man’s “lower appendage” can reach in the deepest of “woman wells.”

Yes. That’s right. If you know anything of sexual intercourse, you know the language I am speaking. You also know some version of the feeling. But, if I am not using the infamous tool of innuendo, am I seriously comparing “hot sex” to carpentry?

I am. There’s just one problem. Well, there’s more than one. But, I’m only focusing on one at the moment because more would probably blow both our “computer laundered” minds. [You know, how some articles of clothing get shrunk in the wash. There ya go. You got it. Right?] If I am not careful, my crafting could result in the creation of a birdhouse. I know it might sound crazy, but it’s true. I put myself to work for the thrill of it, and, suddenly, I’m staring at a birdhouse. But, I don’t want this.

If you ask me, there are already way too many birdhouses out there in the world. Heck. Birds are quite capable themselves of making nests in all sorts of places. Why do we need more?

So, to prevent this, I must wear special protection. And, if I share my skills with any women in this world, it seems vital that they too use protection lest they end up with a birdhouse they cannot fully enjoy. Unfortunately, the female version risks the function of internal organs with the potential for side effects spanning a lifetime. Luckily, more women than men seem content with finding a place in their lives for my unwanted sparrow shacks. I guess the risk of their lives seems less threatening than the loss/destruction of a birdhouse.

Knowing that protection was created by someone no more capable of invention than myself, it’s flawed at best. And, when the flaw reveals itself, guess what? You got it. I’m staring at yet another unwanted, unintended pigeon poop coop. These things are eating up my resources, including living space, and they’re starting to get on my nerves. But, I can’t give up the pursuit of that singular thrill. Can I?

If you’re tuning out or thinking I’m some sex-starved fool, dude (or dudette), you need to get lathed. Or, in other words, go file, drill, wrench, plumb, jack, plunger, pump, punch and/or hammer yourself. All it takes is for the fire of trending to spark a revolution.

If you’re going to get your hands dirty, do it without affecting the lives of others or be prepared for a surplus (or shortage) of robin roosts. Give a hoot; don’t contribute to the plagues of all mankind. Labor responsibly.

[In all seriousness as an artist, I prefer to work with pencil/pen and paper or clay, myself. But, to each their own.]

26
Sep
13

Aware of Wandering Leeches; Concern Over Recent Followers

The internet is a mixed bag of blessings and booby traps. Make the wrong click-turn, and you wind up going down a dark exit ramp into cyber crime misery. I trust people online about as far as I can throw them until they speak with me personally so I may evaluate their authenticity.

Everywhere I go to interact with people online, I eventually run into my share of pests and questionable entities. In chat rooms, they were known as “bombers” and “bots”. Trolls and bullies are popular words these days. But, as I try to restrict the influence of a certain social media website on my personal blog here, I find myself followed by strangers from foreign lands who do not express why they are interested. I also am being swarmed members secretly belonging to some organization I can only presume is yet another online trap.

Who are you, AWOL? Why do you even call yourselves that? Why not be Trolling For Fun, Inc. while you’re at it? Why couldn’t you be Blogging for You if you were serious? And, if you are genuinely out to help people, you’re not going to just throw them a few bucks (which might not even exist) for posting ads. Promising something better than a career earned with a college degree by adding a page/link to my blog? Goodness. Who needs writing skills or valuable content when I can just slap a bumper sticker on my random rants, sit back and watch the meter digits spiral? Why don’t I just move to California and try out for every reality show out there? You sound like those loan companies who don’t care how bad your credit is before having people sign away their souls for some quick cash, cultivating a world of liars, frauds and scams.

If everyone joined your special group, what then? We’re all under some mystery thumb, accepting the bread crumbs tossed to us while kicking back and doing nothing or talking/writing to themselves? Who’s doing the reading if everyone is kicking back doing nothing but letting magic happen on their blog? Wouldn’t we all be getting just a bit too lazy after a while? Aren’t you just the internet equivalent of taking steroids or energy drinks? [And, anyone who watches the news feeds knows how that goes for sports stars.]

You can veil your true nature under pretty faces of all ages “living the dream”, but you’re not fooling me. I sign up with you, and suddenly I am MIA. I have no reason to trust any of your Agents of Wrecking Lives. I cannot block or remove you. And, if you continue to accumulate, I will have to put my foot down another way.

Is anyone else seeing these flies on their FOLLOW and LIKE list? Has anyone confirmed the authenticity of this group?

If I have crossed any lines or offended any business in any way, I won’t sweat it. I don’t need to dig my hook into some quota of total strangers to keep a chain letter going. I’ll find a more reasonable way to benefit from my effort with people who communicate from the heart (not their wallets/purses).




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