Say It Isn't True! *TEARS*

It has been reported that...oh God...oh God...I can't say this...it's soooooooo fucking difficult...it's been reported that Bristol, England has been shunned by Levi Whatshis (no relation to the Levi, Levis...of tight pants and rivet fame), and there is a split afoot.

Oh no, wait...that's not Bristol, England...that's Bristol...Whatsher...the Alaskan also run's daughter, Bristol. And that would be Bristol's almost hubby-in waiting, Whatshis. Whatshis' dad, Keith Whatshis, told PEOPLE recently that his son is a devoted and "proud father." The problem is, moose season is almost over, and Levi Whatshis needs to get out there and spread his seed amonst the mooseys. He is pretty sure he has more seed, and he is damned sure, Bristol is not on the same moosey plate as he...large moosey breasts notwithstanding.

Bristol's mother, Sarah Whatsher, has been incognito since hearing the news, and is not pleased that Whatshis is cutting into her moose jerky business.

Keith Whatshis, privately reminded Sarah that they, he and she, were many long Alaskan Winters ago, caught in a moosey snow storm while beef jerking together, and did some seeding of their own. Dude Whatshis is threating to beat the living shit out of a certain almost father-in-law of his daughter...when moose season is over.

We should all be reminded that the bible tells us (Derotermer 3: 1492, verse e visey 6,9) that we should be wary of split footed Whatshes bearing seeds. Spit them out brethereners, immediately!

Afuckingmen, dudes and dudettes.

Just Wondering

If there was a last supper...was there a first supper? And who was there? And who catered both?

I know, that's more than one wondering...it's three. That's just the way it is when one gets to wondering. Sort of like the in vitro thing...it multiplies...and multiplies...and suddenly one has eight wonderings. Very lucrative, though. Multiple puppies, that is. And babies, it would seem.


On a totally unrelated note. I am very busy this week (that's good) my blogging activities have to go to the back. Quick posts, and outta here. Which, unfortunately, doesn't allow me to catch up on my favorites...and look over there on the right, I have a bailout number of them. So...ain't ignoring you.

Robin Red Breast

We saw a Robin this weekend...I almost ran over it with the car. My wife told me that would be bad Spring Karma. Dead Robin. Squished. Feathers and arrows everywhere. I missed it/him. He/it lived. Hooray for possible Spring as a result of my NOT running over Robin.

It was 7 degrees F heit this morning at 8:30.

Should have run over the fickle little bastard!

Judgement of the Last Post

Since publishing my last post yesterday, I realize that I didn't really make clear my intent in the writing.

First, with tongue-in-cheek, it was meant as ridicule of, and pointing to, the absurdity of organized religion. Somehow, I got a little carried away with the masturbation comment, not to mention giving the piece a bad title, thereby giving that part of the article the major importance. Obviously the comments, thus far, have focused on the "M" thing...which is fine, because that subject is totally ridiculous...particularly when used as a religious example of evilness. However, it wasn't meant to be the center point of the piece.

Second, it occurs to me that it may be taken that I still believe the dogma and medieval silliness that was pounded in my head at church during my youth. No. Nein. Absolutely not. I became the Southern Baptist epitome of a lost sheep, disconnected from the flock. Little did they know that I was out there doing some flocking of my own. Their effect on me and my life, was the opposite of the intended one.

Finally, please keep in mind when visiting this feeble little chunk of bloggerdom, that I am a visual artist, not a writer...even though I pretend otherwise. Which is why I post lots of pretty pictures...such as the one above.

DID YOU SET BACK YOUR CLOCKS? NO EXCUSES FOR BEING LATE TOMORROW...SINNERS!

That's right isn't it? Spring back, Fall forward? Right?

Painting by: Jheronimus Bosch - Titled, The Last Judgement