Watch your thoughts; they become your words.
Watch your words; they become your actions.
Watch your actions; they become your habits.
Watch your habits; they become your character.
Watch your character; that will become your destiny.
The Writings of a guy who is about as emotionally stable as a bag of rabid rats in a flaming Meth lab.
Watch your thoughts; they become your words.
Watch your words; they become your actions.
Watch your actions; they become your habits.
Watch your habits; they become your character.
Watch your character; that will become your destiny.
I hope that any one reading this recalls that Rosemary had a baby and there was a movie about that event.
So some years ago there was a country song out by Jessica Andrews titled "Who I am". The Chorus goes like this...
I am Rosemary's granddaughter.
The spitting image of my father.
And when the day is done my momma's still my biggest fan.
Sometimes I'm clueless and I'm clumsy.
But I've got friends that love me.
And they know just where I stand.
It's all a part of me.
And that's who I am.
I was listening to this back when it was out and the first two lines really strike me every time I hear them.
So if this woman is Rosemary's granddaughter then she must be the daughter of Rosemary's baby. As I recall Rosemary's baby was possessed of cloven hooves and in all likelihood had horns… as in Satan. That leaves me with this; this is the daughter of Satan. The next line states that she is the spitting image of her father. Now depending on whom you talk to and the situation surrounding your encounter with Satan he, assuming a gender, is either a horribly ugly thing or an impossibly beautiful/handsome being. As I recall that is what got to Satan/Lucifer his pride and his narcissistic tendencies oh and pride. So Whoever Rosemary's granddaughter is could be either ridiculously ugly or painfully beautiful. The next two lines sort of clinch it for me though her momma is her biggest fan… is that another way of saying a face that only a mother could love? And the clueless and clumsy line; Cloven hooves could do that for you. Can you imagine playing High school girls basket ball with cloven hooves for feet? I imagine that she would have to disguise her feet and in all likelihood shave her legs and arms daily and would likely be sporting some ridiculously long and thick sideburns.
Unless you are as tough as General William Tecumseh Sherman, emotional resilient as a Chicago Cubs Fan, have skin as thick as rhinoceros hide, are endowed with a sarcastic wit as sharp as Dennis Miller, and generally as able to take care of yourself as well as the average Nuclear Missile Submarine Commander, you should not opt to read this blog.
If you have read any of this blog and you cannot answer in the affirmative all of the above please have yourself treated, at your nearest hospital, as if you taken a month long field trip to the number 4 reactor at the Chernobyl power facilty then arrange for a qualified surgeon to amputate both of your arms at the elbows and extract your eyes as soon as can possibly be arranged.
This warning is necessary because it seems that this country has become so sickeningly Politically correct that we all have to worry about offending some poor simple, humor impaired turd's sensibilities for fear of being sued by the ACLU or other heavy handed tool of the "oppressed" and "offended".
Everyone seems to think that some time recently there was an eleventh "right" written in to the Bill of rights section of the constitution stipulating something about having the right to go through life without being offended in any way shape or form by anything or anyone no matter how trivial or ridiculous the "offense".
This new pervasive attitude of entitlement has created "Champions of Justice" attorneys who will sue the offending party of the first part into complete financial ruination just to see their name in the press.
I can, with absolute assurance, tell you that you will find something, in what I write here, that will offend and irritate. If you haven't yet, you will soon.
If you choose to ignore this warning you will be reading on at your own peril. You are sure to burst into flames of Righteous Indignation and acrimonious hatred the likes of which are typically reserved for former President G.W.Bush. Reading this blog will certainly have you vomiting up torrents of vitriolic outrage, in Tourette’s like volcanic eruptions, of the most vile, disgusting and hateful thoughts and words and deeds ... certain induce a cerebral aneurysm and/or massive stroke that will leave you bleeding from your eyes and ears, dead, balled up in a fetal position, twitching and spewing all manner of bodily fluids on the floor near your where you read this... or find, in a momentary spasm of lucidity, that you have been committed to an asylum with absolutely no hope of release, where you will spend the rest of your years laced up in a tight fitting straight jacket bobbing your head, violently back and forth, flinging snot and drool all over yourself and the padded walls of your dark windowless cell, muttering obscenities, cursing your mother and the day you were born.