The Word…

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.

Rosemary’s baby…

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.

wow

occasionally I get really great email

Guilt…

I feel like a little of Jewish man… I harbor so much guilt. I feel like I could power a small city with the energy wasted on it… assuming you could somehow harness that energy.

There is so much guilt around these days.

The ever present for white guys… Privileged White Male Guilt.

Under that is the there is Black and Brown guilt.

The very popular Green guilt.

Under that we have the Recycling guilt. What is recyclable and what is not… It's so darn confusing and too much effort guilt

Electricity guilt. Did I turn off the lights soon enough am I keeping the phone chargers on a power strip and the strip turned off?

Use of oil guilt. I drive a 40 + year old car and it does not get great mileage and is not so very clean burning I am sure… but you will have to kill me to take it from me.

The not driving a Prius guilt.

Green house gas emissions guilt.

The Fur guilt. I don't own one but I like the fur just the same.

Meat guilt. I eat meat Chicken Steak, loves me the Rib Eye, fish.

Employment guilt… not having a real job guilt… not supporting your household like a "man" guilt

Sex guilt. Where do I start with this…

I like the Bigger boobs guilt.

I like looking at naked women guilt

I like the shapely posterior… nice ass (see even have to P.C. that up at first.)

I like the words that surround sex guilt… Pussy, cock, fuck, ass…

I like the kinky sex guilt. This is a very LONG list…

I like the porn guilt

The asking for sex guilt. She is a very busy woman.

The after mess guilt. Read; wetspot guilt

Was it good for you guilt? Do I have to ask… should I ask… crap I asked what a goof…

And the big one… Parental guilt

Was I firm enough guilt?

Was I lenient enough?

Did I get the things that she needed guilt?

Was I there enough for support?

was I detached enough to allow personal growth?

Did I teach good things by example or by counter example?

This list keeps on growing…

The ex…1

The ex… the telling of this is going to be a long and painful and no doubt rambling and winding and often back tracking story of pain and addiction and debauchery on both sides. In the nick of case no one read the fine print at the head of this blog… the part about my being as emotionally stable as a bag of rats in a flaming meth lab… this is where you will come to understand and believe that. Get your barf bags ready. I will break this up over many pieces for readability and to allow me to recall and to write in an unbiased , as much as is possible, way.

This will also give me a way of sorting this out for real in my own head so that I am not beating myself up for imagined stuff and accepting the responsibility for those things that I am guilty of.

Preface; the first. We were high school sweet hearts. She was the school slut and I was the oldest virgin on campus… I am still sure of it. I was messed up about sex even back then. She was Long and lean and easy on the eyes. But she had issues with boys. From her perspective, if she didn't have sex with boys then they wouldn't like her or so she thought. She was smart and a good person. She was, however, abused at some young age by one or more of her mother's boy friends. So she had/s issues. I had issues of Nerdism and suffered from acute Ganglitude compounded by a chronic case of Hormoneitis. (I was 6'3' and way skinny with no self esteem stemming in no small part because I was not the son my father dreamed of having. I didn't want to get up before God and go "Slay the fish," or drink coffee or smoke cigarettes while sitting silently, so as not to scare the afore mentioned illusive and possibly/probably, none-existent, in my thinking because we almost never caught any, because I couldn't sit still enough while freezing or not drinking coffee or, or, or… imaginary fish, in a boat on a lake freezing my ass off when I could be warm and cozy in bed, or watching cartoons or building stuff with my huge cache of Lego's. I could go on but I think that paints the picture well enough for the time being. We were a match made in… where ever they make very volatile, poisonous, toxic, slow acting, neurotoxin time bombs.

It is my sincere belief that she subscribed to the school of thinking that once you had a Boyfriend/fiancé/husband sex stopped. I, on the other hand, was of the school that once "that" door/box, thank you Pandora, is opened you take the hinges off and burn the doors… does the phrase unhinged say anything, I think that paints the picture well enough. I was a late bloomer and I meant to make up for, imagined, lost time… and I have an IMAGINATION!