Sometimes, I wish I sounded like Burl Ives.

I don't know the context in the movie, but I sure like the song.

Three creaky wooden stairs
Those squeaky rocking chairs
The well worn welcome mat
The lattice vines
The happy times

All I want to do
When the day is through
Is linger here on the front porch
With you
From the wicker swing
While the night birds sing

We'll watch the fireflies sparkin'
Do some sparkin' too
How the hours fly
As the moon drifts by --
How sweet the air
As we stare
At the sight
Oh! How I love to linger here like this
Hold your hand, and steal a kiss
Or two
On the front porch with you

All I want to do
When the day is through
Is linger here on the front porch
With you
From the wicker swing
While the night birds sing
We'll watch the fireflies sparkin'
Do some sparkin' too
(Some sparkin' too!)
How the hours fly

As the moon drifts by --
How sweet the air
As we stare
At the sight

Oh! How I love to linger here like this
Hold your hand, and steal a kiss
Or two
On the front porch with you

Written by: Richard M. Sherman and Robert B. Sherman
Performed by: Burl Ives

Any More and I'm Fucked

From the Sac Bee:

Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger plans to propose a 5 percent across-the-board pay cut for state workers to save nearly $500 million in next year's budget and preserve cash, a spokesman said Thursday.

...

The move would save $470 million by cutting pay for 100,000 general fund employees, as well as $415 million by reducing salary for special fund workers. The latter move would not impact the state's general fund budget directly, but it would preserve cash as the state struggles to pay its bills.

Seems to me he wants to be able to dip into the special fund like the Federal dips into Social Security and like he thinks he should be able to take money from county and city governments.

Iowa?

You know, I could work at a crappy job, hating the people I deal with almost anywhere, so why am I doing it in a place that costs too much and I don't like?

Oh, I remember, I don't have a job offer anywhere else and even if I did I don't have a first, last, or deposit.

Shit.

Version 4.0 or 5.0

Easier on the eyes?

"How are you?"

I got the question, "How are you?" from an old friend who I haven't corresponded with in quite a while.

When I went to reply, I paused. A long pause. The thought was, how much do I write?

Do I spill everything on this person? (A person who I never really spilled anything on before.) Do I just say I'm "meh" and leave it at that? If I aim for the middle, which side should I favor more?

Eventually, I wrote. I kept it light. Sure, I said I'm terrified of my immediate future, but even that was kept more jokey than serious.

What's a person supposed to do? A letter out of no where (I was reminded of this fun thing we did years ago, wasn't that a blast?) isn't the proper place to throw hardcore feelings and painful thoughts. The "How are you?" is more an I-hope-you're-doing-pretty-well,-but-if-your-not-I'd-rather-you-pretended-because,-really,-I-just-wanted-to-say-a-quick-hello-and-remember-a-bit-of-fun-and-it's-polite-to-also-ask-how-your-doing-at-the-same-time, isn't it?

Or maybe it's not. Maybe it's just me trying to work out my frustration on how fucking vague that question is. "How are you?" ranges from the toe you stubbed on the door while walking to the bathroom at 2AM to the promotion you got at work to the soggy fries you had at lunch to the exquisite, intense, painful, joyful release of an orgasm you had during sex to the mediocre TV you watched, and beyond. "How are you?" envelopes your life, but, in my experience, it never wants more than a three word response, "I'm doing fine." and that's just not really an answer.

"How are you?" has become a meaningless question and it only expects meaningless answers.

Oh, and if the friend who wrote me that letter reads this (HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! *ahem* HA!), it's not about you. I promise. It's about what I think of all of us.

Today's Song

"Unfortunate Few" by The Ditty Bops

Oh you unfortunate few
Nobody's listening to me
It came at a time when I just started
To say something interesting

Bubbling thoughts I've been thinking a lot
But I don't write them down with a smile
More of a frown as I'm looking down
No pen in my pocket no pockets to fill

Far too long ago my chances were slim
I'm knocking the door but they won't let me in
Configuring why takes the whimsy from whim
You're all blocking the door won't you please let me in

Oh you unfortunate few
Stuck in your special space
I'm here on my own though I'm not alone
It feels like a miserable place

At first you remember but then you forget
And once I'm forgotten you can't get me back
I'm knocking the door but nobody hears
I'm banging it down won't you answer it please

And nobody's asking for more
Nobody's looking for anything
Nobody wants me to say a thing
Nobody misses the missing

Ascend or Descend
Upon a plot with the same ending
My timing's no good
But it saves me from troubles ahead

But you might not be figured with eyes
Might not be figured with ears
Might not be something to figure at all
Until you are actually here

I've gone back on my words which constantly change
I believe what I mean at the time that I say them
I'm climbing a wall of infinite height
I couldn't go through, though I try as I might

They're telling me fictional distractions
Fictional stories
I have heard enough of these
Is anybody missing me?

More Budget Problems

From the AP:

"To fix the system, I need the people's help," the Republican governor said Thursday. "I know that the people are sick and tired of hearing about Sacramento's dysfunction. ... People are angry. People are frustrated."

He added: "But people need to know how this election will affect you."

Of course, he fails to mention how it screws us next year and into the next generation of children.

ticknart's away, no messages, please.

Okay, so, I'm done with blogging for a while.

I'll be reading stuff, can't keep away from that, but I won't be writing anything on this blog or at What's Distracting Us for a while. I'm also not planning on writing any comments on any blogs anywhere, like that'd make much of a difference in my commenting these past few weeks.

Be well.

Silliness

Even in a world where Jason Segel and Seth Rogen star in sex comedies the romantic leads, Martin Starr, who deserves to be, probably won't.

Laborcism

Heels wrote about having a pregnancy dream.

She dreamed "that [her] midwife started to engage [her] in a theological debate while [she] was in labor."

My response was that at least her midwife wasn't performing an exorcism.

Now I can't stop imagining the birthing process as an exorcism:

The priest sits between the woman's legs and shouts, "The power of Christ compels you!" Holy water gets flicked at her crotch. "Leave this woman's body! You don't belong there!" A rosary is fingered and prayers are muttered. "Get thee from this Holy vessel and return from where you came!"

Eventually, out comes slime coated creature that starts screaming as soon as it draws a breath. The creature is wrapped and set aside. The exorcism is not over. More prayers and water are hurled between the woman's legs until, finally, out comes the deep red and gray goo, which is captured to be incinerated because it is the evil that had been driven from the woman and the creature. (Of course, there's no way to drive out all the evil and the woman may even become possessed again.)

The creature, which came out first, is given to the woman to be raised in righteousness and to be blessed with baptism to help keep its inherit evil at bay.

Elbow Deep!

There's more to the comic, but it's really all about that panel.