Forget to close the door
Forget to open it up
Forget to make the coffee
Forget to bring the cake
Forget the dog outside in the snow in the cold
Forget to clean the coffee which spilled near the window while looking at the dog
Forget to pretend to be able to hide
Forget whatnots
Forget knots
Forget me
Forget me not
Forget everything
Forget to remember
Me
OMG a new royal baby has been born!
And before I go any further, and I will, I wish best health on the baby, the family and a wonder life to all — all babies, all families.
That said, WHAT THE FUCK!
I have several reasons for my discust, especially in Amerira, at the birthing of a baby in england, 3rd in line to the thrown.
No, I’m just kidding, stop the British madness your crazy Americans.
I normally like to tell jokes. Find the funny side of things. But, it’s nearly impossible for comedy to exist after such a horible masacre like Sandy Hook Elementary.
But it what follows wasn’t real, it would be laughable:
Today, the vice-president of the NRA said, “The only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun.”
He said this to defend more guns in schools, not less. He is a sad little man.
Look, I grew up in the country on a farm and have shot a fair amount of guns, and killed a fair amount of animals, both with a gun and by sending to slaughter. In seventh grade in my middle school we had, as part of our environmental studies class, mandatory shotgun shell reloading.
And though I am sans gun now – and likely will be forever — I may enjoy an occasional skeet shooting experience.
Guns are freakin’ powerful. Even the small guns, like a .22 – the kind the shot Reagan and killed John Lennon.
And whereas I don’t agree with the slogan, “guns don’t kill people; people kill people.” I see it more true as, “Guns kill people and a whole lot of other living things, too.” That’s what guns are for. I mean, beside sport at at shooting range. And even that is often just to become a better shot to then go and kill something with more accuracy.
Then NRA has strayed. The NRA is now wrong on so many levels. Which is sad for me, because the NRA is an institution that I would respect if it did what it seemed it was promoting – keeping gun ownership safe and legal. I have no problem with keeping gun ownership safe and legal. But, the NRA, over the decades has gotten increasingly out of touch with reality — anyway, the V.P. of NRA said today:
“The only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun,”
Which is just wrong. I mean, even mathematically it is wrong on 5 points. And one could extrapolate that it is wrong on 27 points. Which makes Wayne LaPierre, not only drastically wrong, but criminally dangerous.
Wow, how wrong can one man be.
You can easily form your own opinion about anything, but please know this, guns kill people. Guns make it easy to kill people.
No matter who is the judge and jury, the moral cop, the right-and-wrong-monitor, guns make it possible for people to kill lots and lots of people.
Occupation: Financial debate facilitator in Washington, DC
Likes: Living on the edge, Warren Buffet, and doing crunches.
Dislikes: Non-starters, ultimatums, and tax hikes on middle class families.
Occupation: Senior Downsizing Consultant working throughout the 50 States, in some more than others.
Likes: One size fits all clothing, bargain hunting, Jimmy Buffet, and The Perfect Storm – the book not the movie, although I would not throw George Clooney out of bed!
Dislikes: Congress and other male dominated conversations.
Location: A place called Destiny. Destiny Bar and Grille.
Fiscal Cliff: I got there early. You never know, now, do you, when you might be able to get a dinner drink at happy-hour prices. Anyway, I was like, nervous. I [had] never been on a blind date before. And I had this big end-of-the-year deadline.
Sea Questor: I generally show up with force. Make everyone shrink by, say, five percent — ha, ha. But seriously, I wanted to get it all on the table — get it all spread out across-the-board.
FC: I slammed a double Scotch-on-the-Rocks before I knew it. I mean, I know a lot of people in this town are looking for ways to… to just make go away. So that evening, I just wanted to have fun… with a stranger.
SQ: Suffice it to say, I’m not usually impressed by first impressions. But, when I saw Cliff with his mouth full of beer nuts, and a fist full of bourbon…, I said, heck this guy might be near the edge. I also thought he was super cute.
FC: I went to introduce myself, but I choked on some dried bar snacks. Not a flattering way to meet. I was so light headed; I nearly passed out. I could swallow most of it, but the top 2% was stuck in my throat. Anyway, she came over and performed the heimlich maneuver. I could breathe again. I was “awkward” to say the least, but then I thought, what else could go wrong.
SQ: I did what anyone would’ve done. I mean, just letting him expire was a non-starter. And to be honest that made the rest of the evening flow.
FC: Our conversation flowed as naturally as tax hikes for Democrats, and spending cuts for Republicans. I was somber at one point. I mean, it’s tough when so many people have so many opinions about you [me] and they express them so ferociously. I ordered the precipice salad with endive.
SQ: I ordered a small sample of everything. I told Cliff I had a coupon for 5% off.
FC: I didn’t get the jokes. I just laughed when she laughed and that seemed to make her happy.
SQ: We were laughing and connecting, you know, in that way – there was definitely serious flirtation in the air. I started to really feel like we were in this thing together. — and we were sharing a dessert.
FC: And sipping Cognac.
SQ: And then the bill came.
FC: And then the bill came.
(at this point both parties paused, inhaled slowly, then exhaled audibly)
SQ: I mean, just because I cutting spending every-freakin-where-I-freakin-go doesn’t mean I get to keep it. Dump my purse upside down. It’s just not there, there’s no money, that’s the point. My job is to tell you its not there. So, right away I asked to speak to the manager.
FC: Normally, I have a few bucks, but I’m getting ready to go through a really tough period. I mean, come on, back when Clinton was President I paid for everything and left a fat tip. I mean come on. So, I suggested we dine and dash.
SQ: I said, no, these prices are too high, we’re gonna get this bill cut down to 1999 prices.
FC: I was like, hold on, why fight. If we do nothing, nothing will happen… at least until 2013.
SQ: I was all like, I’m not gonna compromise. I don’t care if this is a small business. I will shut this [expletive] down.
FC: Then the manager came over and told us that Date Lab was paying the bill.
SQ: Oh, that’s right.
FC: Yeah, we left kinda ashamed of ourselves.
SQ: And even though it was our representatives who put us on this path, we just kinda gave up.
FC: We got to the Metro, and looked down. It will be a long way down.
SQ: And the escalator was broken.
The funny thing is that in this picture, the sun is not making a statement for the day — it is the morning, but the sun is is not warming up, but flaring out. At least that’s how it all appears in a few minutes after the photo was taken (with an iPhone 4S).
The day wasn’t warm — it was the day after the day after Thanksgiving, and while the day before had be grander than a piano, today was teasing us before blowing dark clouds over the sun. The whole thing, not unusual, reminded me of Richard Bach’s Jonathan Livingston Seagull, which begins…
“It was morning, and the new sun sparkled gold across the ripples of a gentle sea. A mile from shore a fishing boat chummed the water. and the word for Breakfast Flock flashed through the air, till a crowd of a thousand seagulls came to dodge and fight for bits of food. It was another busy day beginning. But way off alone, out by himself beyond boat and shore, Jonathan Livingston Seagull was practicing.
“A hundred feet in the sky he lowered his webbed feet, lifted his beak, and strained to hold a painful hard twisting curve through his wings. The curve meant that he would fly slowly, and now he slowed until the wind was a whisper in his face, until the ocean stood still beneath him.
“He narrowed his eyes in fierce concentration, held his breath, forced one… single… more… inch… of… curve… Then his featliers ruffled, he stalled and fell. Seagulls, as you know, never falter, never stall.
“To stall in the air is for them disgrace and it is dishonor.But Jonathan Livingston Seagull, unashamed, stretching his wings again in that trembling hard curve – slowing, slowing, and stalling once more – was no ordinary bird.
Most gulls don’t bother to learn more than the simplest facts of flight – how to get from shore to food and back again. For most gulls, it is not flying that matters, but eating. For this gull, though, it was not eating that mattered, but flight. More than anything else. Jonathan Livingston Seagull loved to fly. This kind of thinking, he found, is not the way to make one’s self popular with other birds. Even his parents were dismayed as Jonathan spent whole days alone, making hundreds of low-level glides, experimenting.”