On regular intervals
The bulls go over the cliff
The leaders posture
The young react
The old articulate
Most of the wise, (I believe) are in hiding
An irascible clue unfolds on any Tuesday.
My shopping cart has a wobbling wheel
Counting the carts in front of me to be about twenty with nearly the same number guesstimated to be distributed throughout the lot and Supermarket ......discounting the odd theft, I give myself high odds of using this very same bastard cart again in the calender year and resolve to break the spell, abandoning it beside the newspaper racks outside the electric doors.
The next cart is much better, I pretend not to notice the poor fellow who has taken up the wobbly cause left aside the traffic of it all
"grow your own fuckin' tomatoes" I says to myself......well? What about soap?.... Hmm. You got me there,
I buy four "Heirloom" tomato plants with flowers on them and place them in the south facing window of the kitchen when I get home.
While I was there, at the grocery, I noticed the motorcycle magazines are beginning to outnumber the gun publications. Well, It's something.
I buy an issue of "Motorcycle Classics" to help with some collective message.
Other magazines feature movie stars like a sorry bill of health pinned to society's weakest links, the word "imposter" comes to mind.
If you can see a rat in a maze and not feel a twinge of recognition. Good for you.
If you can stand in line with another human standing directly behind you. Hazah! and praise the big cheese.
If you can get through high-school without a deep unresolvable despise for institutions. You is the cats meow and you fit right in there, like a key in a lock inspecting the tumblers with the expression of the deeply resigned.
furthermore
If you let someone convince you that you need medication to help get over your stress, you are going off to the slaughter house under your own steam. I am suggesting that a thorn in your foot is to be removed, not discussed. Sand in your eye needs washed out, not a prime time special featuring football greats with bad knees. When you are confined to a pine box, don't entertain the thoughts of a silk box lining and a scented pine tree dangling in your face as a solution. By all means.... Kick like hell and get the fuck out of there.
When the music in your ears is offensive and the lights make you feel like you are in surgery and the people resemble monsters you are not mistaken. The Twilight Zone ain't got nothin' on the grocery store.
As an experiment. I put on my blackest sunglasses and pull up ABRAXIS on my IPOD.
This is the proper way to handle a crisis of conformity
and when they inevitably ask if they can "help" me, I sent them for a forty pound bag of dog food. By the end of my shopping adventure the bag boys and girls are perplexed and the manager is curious about the nine bags of Pedigree blocking the exits.
I do my part.
B.E.B. (self elected anti-social skills professional)
I buy an issue of "Motorcycle Classics" to help with some collective message.
Other magazines feature movie stars like a sorry bill of health pinned to society's weakest links, the word "imposter" comes to mind.
If you can see a rat in a maze and not feel a twinge of recognition. Good for you.
If you can stand in line with another human standing directly behind you. Hazah! and praise the big cheese.
If you can get through high-school without a deep unresolvable despise for institutions. You is the cats meow and you fit right in there, like a key in a lock inspecting the tumblers with the expression of the deeply resigned.
furthermore
If you let someone convince you that you need medication to help get over your stress, you are going off to the slaughter house under your own steam. I am suggesting that a thorn in your foot is to be removed, not discussed. Sand in your eye needs washed out, not a prime time special featuring football greats with bad knees. When you are confined to a pine box, don't entertain the thoughts of a silk box lining and a scented pine tree dangling in your face as a solution. By all means.... Kick like hell and get the fuck out of there.
When the music in your ears is offensive and the lights make you feel like you are in surgery and the people resemble monsters you are not mistaken. The Twilight Zone ain't got nothin' on the grocery store.
As an experiment. I put on my blackest sunglasses and pull up ABRAXIS on my IPOD.
This is the proper way to handle a crisis of conformity
and when they inevitably ask if they can "help" me, I sent them for a forty pound bag of dog food. By the end of my shopping adventure the bag boys and girls are perplexed and the manager is curious about the nine bags of Pedigree blocking the exits.
I do my part.
B.E.B. (self elected anti-social skills professional)
