I was blind but now I see...

When I first decided to join the blogging world I went into it half-hearted. I had the wrong attitude. I was lacking vision. I was blinded by the novelty of blogging. After taking a step back the last few months I've regained my focus. I've dusted of the cobwebs and I'm ready to get back to writing about what I know best...a whole lotta nothing. As you read my ramblings remember one important thing, it's all nothing unless WE make it something.
Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

I'm a mobile blogger! Will wonders ever cease?

The winds of change are blowing like a tornado in the plain states.

The secret time machine

Do you know we all have our own secret time machines? No, really we do! You can actually use your nose to travel back in time. Ever get a whiff of some sweet smelling smells that whisk you off to the good old days? Ever had the musty stale smell of a newspaper remind you of Sunday mornings reading the paper with Dad? Every walk by a bakery and the delicious odor emanating from the slightly cracked door brings you back to that "He-Man" cake at your eight birthday party? The one with the puppet show and the skiddish pony that hated to be ridden? Does the crisp fresh smell of newly fallen rain suck you back to that camping trip that turned out to be a nightmare because of that nasty case of poison ivy? We've all experienced this but rarely mention it to anybody. We're usually too busy to pay much attention to these subtle walks down memory lane. But, I urge you to stop the next time a familiar smell sucks you into the past. Stop, inhale deeply and enjoy your secret little time machine.
Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

The only thing worse then a baby with a really bad rash is a rash of really bad babies!

Every wonder why we are the way we are? Most people think it has to do with our parents. Me, I blame peeing in the pool!

During times of excrutiating boredom all I want to do is dance to Hammertime!

over the rainbow it's all greek to me.....

What a difference a few miles makes. I recently realized that our "small" world sure is big. Living in California I interact with all types of folks from all over the world. The thing is that they live in my local area and even the most traditional of cultures will adapt to the city or town around them over time. They don't seem strange or foreign to me. They are just part of my familiar life. But, what about those folks that come here to make a new life. How do they feel? To really experience how varied our world is you have to go outside of our borders. In one minute you can be in San Diego and the next your in "TJ." Just a matter of a few yards but, boy, what a difference. Every time I've ever been to Mexico I get that nervous flutterby feeling. I know I'm only 500 yards from US soil but I can't shake the feeling. I'm not afraid of the people or the culture. I'm bothered by the lack of familiarity. I'm frightened by what I don't understand. It's like having cultural vertigo. I get it now. Imagine being hundreds or thousands of miles from your familiar surroundings. I understand what people must think when they come to the US looking for streets paved with gold and all they see are streets paved with our homeless. It must be 110x as shocking as walking through TJ. In my case, I know that I have the option to turn around and walk a few yards back home. But, when people from other countries spend their life savings or even risk their lives to come here there is no turning back. They must feel like Dorothy and her house sucked up and spit out in some crazy place. They have to deal with that cultural vertigo feeling too. It all makes sense to me now. If they could click their heels together three times and wish to go home, they probably would. No wonder they look at us funny when we tell them to go back to their own country. That's exactly what they want to do. Afterall there really is no place like home.

the pinata...

Just shut up! Who do you think your talking too? I'm not here to be your punching bag. I'm not here to feed your malnourished ego. I don't care you you are. I don't really care who you think is at fault. I know it's not mine but you insist that it is. You expect me to help you? You have some nerve, buddy. You tell me that it's my job? You talk to me about customer service? you wouldn't know customer service if it hit you square in your sun-dried face. Ever thought of maybe listening to the garbage spewing out of your fat head like a sewage drain in the rainy season? Why do you think yelling will get you any further then you already are? I'm surprised that your Krispy Kreme engorged behind found the time to put down the rocky road and waddle your way in here. Every heard of killing them with kindness? If you had just one shred of smarts you would just zip it. If I'm your only hope why turn me against you? If they told you to see me, why beat me down like some cheap birthday pinata? You keep it up and I will crack just like any good pinata but there will be nothing sweet coming out of me. I promise you that. So let's start over.....what was it I could help you with today?

dj vuski....

I've been here before. Don't you remember? Yeah, that's right. That glass of water was there, filled with ice! I know I've seen that before. That chair was like that, with that towel on it. You were wearing that shirt. I know I've seen this all play out before. I know that glass will spill, your shirt will get wet and you'll use the towel on the chair to clean it up. Yeah, I've here before. I know what will happen next. But, why? How is this possible. What is happening to me? Am I psychic? Was I dreaming? Is life just replaying past events in the exact same order they once occurred? Like a CD on repeat? Is my brain misfiring? Am I having a small neurological meltdown? No,I don't think so. I'm just lucky. Deja vu is one of those interesting little quirks in life that we tend to take for granted. Just another way to keep us on our toes. Take my advise, the next time you have one of these little "episodes," slow down, soak it up. Enjoy being in that moment. Relish your momentary lapse of reality. I know I will.

self portrait....

mirror, mirror on the wall who's the twistiest one of all? The answer is always the same....

all twisted up inside...or outside

the bully....

the bully feels one inch tall. the bully feels insecure in they way they walk,they way they talk, in the way they dress, in they way people see them. They bully hurts others to hide the fact that they themselves are hurting. they bully has no emotion, because if the bully felt anything they would realize that pain masked by pain is worse then death itself. the wounds will never heal. the pain will never subside. the pain will only get unbearable. the bully will never change. the bully will only breed more bullies.

details....details....

it's hard to imagine a world without detail. I mean just think about it for a second. What if you couldn't tell what color a tree was supposed to be? What if you didn't know what fuzzy looked like? What if you didn't know the sound a train made? How would your world differ from the one you know today? What would your dreams be like? Have you ever stopped to think how lucky you are to be able to see? To be able to hear? Do we take these things for granted? Well, Do we?

the sales pitch....

I know who you are. Your the researcher. You went online. You read all the "experts." Your the guy with all the questions answered. You've been told not to trust me. You've been told I don't care. You've been told that I'm lying. You've been told I just want your money. You come in looking for a fight. You come in looking to lay down the law. You want, what you want. You don't care what I have to say. You won't change your mind. Your ready to go. But, I'm a professional. I take my time. I listen to you. I provide my feedback. Your begin to soften your stance. Maybe, I'm not so bad. You put away your papers. You ever crack a smile. Maybe I know what I'm saying. maybe I do actually care. Maybe you were wrong. You finally trust me. You finally take my advice. You will spend a little more then you wanted to. You will leave happy. I will have your money and now I will have your respect too. I know who you are and you will never change.

artist interpretations required

this is a representation of what a 13 year old feels like on the inside. Can you relate?

fun with photobucket!

how do you see it?

beauty distorted is still beautiful!

right hand man....

We have all seen them. Standing tall and proud. Their bright red face looking down on us with authority. We know there out there. They told us so in school. They watch over the roads protecting us from ourselves. So why does the mere sight of one of them will cause anxiety, panic and confusion? I can't explain the phenomena. Even the more seasoned travelers seem to freeze up when they approach one of them. It's really a simple concept, stop then go. When alone I am fearless. I easily handle one of these guardians of our streets without so much as a hair out of place. When others are around is when the sight of these road rangers becomes a matter of life or death. If separate travelers approach as I am, I start to lose it. My palms start to sweat, the thumping in my chest gets heavier, my breathing becomes shallow and labored. It's almost as if I have a type of tunnel vision. I stop as i'm instructed to by the big white letters tattooed of their faces. I look to the left, I look to my right, I look straight ahead. I don't know who is going first. I know who SHOULD be going first. I question everything I was ever taught. I know I've done my part. I stopped when I was supposed to. I looked all the ways I was told too. I should be able to go when it's my turn. But it never happens that way. I see this too often. The other traveler has failed to use the right of way and now I must wait and others must wait. I was on your right and I stopped first! It should be my chance to continue on my journey. But, it has been stolen from me. The big red bullies, the ones that put us in this position, say nothing. They just stand there in silence. They let this happen. I blame them. I hate them. So, I ask all of you please use the right of way and make the road a safer place and less stressful place. Somebody has to....

Zombies

flesh eating, undead and really hard to get away from. Zombies come in all shapes and forms. Some rise from the dead because of man made viruses,others because of alien invasion. some eat brains,other prefer meaty flesh chunks from an arm or a leg. some zombies travel in groups, others alone. Zombies have even been know to form organized groups in order to hunt down their main food source, us, the living livers of life before death. But what do all these Zombies have in common? (besides the dead thing.) What is it that Zombies really want? Do they want what we live types want? Do they just want to be free to eat brains, drink blood and make mush out of the living? I don't think so. I think they want more. I think they just want to be accepted and respected for who they are. they want to be recognized for all they have contributed to society. When was the last time you heard two zombies talking about "American Idol,"or "Rock of Love." When has a zombie ever flipped you the bird for stealing their parking spot? How many zombies do you know that are so deep in credit card debt that can't even afford to feed their undead babies? Zombies are more civilized then we give them credit for. So do yourself a favor, next time you see a pack of undead flesh eaters heading towards you, don't run. Just stop, introduce yourself and you just might have a chance to understand that zombies are people too.

what's in a blog?

I've never been one to care much about what others have thought. So why would I start now. I'm writing to read my thoughts out loud. I like to see my brain function out in the open. I like to pick apart my brain, to analyze my random thought process and quirky notions that I come up with. I find my inner self to be quite amusing. the quick wit and sharp tongue I display in life is but a microcosm of what's going inside the inner dwelling of my skull. I know I'm funny because I make myself laugh. To be able to laugh at ones self is the ultimate sign of a higher intelligence. I know this to be true because I thought of it all on my own. Most people degrade themselves, beat themselves up about their short comings. They criticize and minimize every little detail of their lives. I'm no different, except I can turn around write my thoughts down, laugh at them, get embarrassed at my foolish rambling, clock out and go home. I remain unfazed,unflinching and unaffected by the sewage of a life our parents have left us to fend for ourselves in. I find humor in everything, especially in myself. In short my blog will be about nothing and everything that means nothing because really what is nothing but something to some one else. right?