Proepr Egnilsh

If you have cohesn to pulgne itno tihs praagarph, I cmomned you. The cahnecs of yuor giannig ertxa bornwy piotns are qeiut hgih. Dno't wrory, I wlil rirfein form dawrnig tihs out to the pniot of pian. By tihs tmie, I am srue you hvae ddecued taht I ralely hvae ntohnig of geart wrtoh to sttae. Trehe may be a pniot in my lfie wehn I wlil hvae lraend the porepr alpcitaoin of "bum glue" (tihs maens I've lraend how to mkae msylef sit lnog eonguh to get smoetihng wrohtwihle wirtetn) and porudecd a 800 pgae book auobt the Bobmradier btleee wihch esxits in Dpeeets Arfica. Hwoveer, uitnl taht cmoes to psas, I am vrey srory to auonnce taht you wlil hvae to cnoitune ptutnig up wtih my praitucalr barnd of mmulbnisg. Hvanig siad taht, I do now sgin off.

P.S. Ben and Jrrey's Sratwrreby Cehseckae ice caerm is the bset ice caerm out tehre. Eevr. *etas aonhter btie* Yummmmmmmmmm.

The problem is solved!

'If Israel surrenders, we'll all be friends'

So asserted Pakistani President Pervez Musharraf in a speech to American Jewish leaders in New York Saturday.



May I laugh now?? Puullleeeseeee?? Yes?!?

Aaaaahahahahaaa!

:-D

Shun not a riddle

quiet, simple, daily I come,
or at least one hopes.
for some, I am avoided,
set aside for other attractions.
others rejoice in my advent,
and embrace me as one would
a long lost friend.
some overindulge in me
and I, in bemusement stand by.
to others, I fear, I am like a flitting butterfly,
almost impossible to catch.
without me for too long and you may begin to show
the characteristics of inebriation.
other times, I sneak upon the unsuspecting
and wreck havoc in their existance.
without enough of me, you are sunk.
with too much of me,
you may miss out on the chance to earn daily bread.
I think your IQ may be affected if you shun me. how sad!
who am I?

Oh. My. Word.

I met a rather gregarious nine year old young lady today. Three minutes after she'd figured I was most likely a "safe" human, she launched into her life's work. Talking. I learned all about the play she's in, and how she'd been in the lead part for three years, but this year she had to be a background character. Which she despised, and told me in no uncertain words that she knew she was a much better actor than the girl who took her place.

In a normal situation, by now I'd be close to going on my way, however, this time I was spending a couple hours in her house lending aid to her family who are in the midst of moving. So I was privileged to work with her the majority of the time.

Anyway. The flow rushed onward, and I soon found myself privy to many of her deepest thoughts, ideas, wishes, and experiences. Fascinating, I'm sure. A couple times she'd suddenly stem the onward tide and ask me with all seriousness if she was talking to much. I made the mistake of telling her that I was the "like to listen" type and that she wasn't bothering me. Later, she asked again, I gave a similar answer and she told me that sometimes her dad would "tell me I needed to talk less... but I could tell he was trying his best to be polite!"

About two hours later, nearing the end, I'd been in and out of the house carrying heavy laden boxes to deposit in the back of their Suburban. She was inside, and her little brother was outside. As I stepped through the door and closed it, I could hear the distressed cries of her brother behind me. Turning to my young friend, I wondered aloud if maybe she should check on him "because he sounds upset". She paused a moment in the middle of her soliloquy and blandly stated: "Oh, I don't care." And without missing hardly a beat, she charged onward to complete her story.

Wow. I stand amazed.

In conclusion, I have two things to say. The first being... her brother ended up being just fine. The second would be... please don't try and cash in on my listening abilities for a while, I do believe they are all used up.

Psyche

I don't know why, but it's true. I don't understand, but I'm not confused. There are things that defy logic, weave themselves into tangled webs, and climb mountains on trails with a multitude of switchbacks. I thought it was this way, but it's not; I thought it was that way, but it's far beyond ken. My knowledge of the world is like a mouse that thought he was a man. Much smaller than that of which I was so sure. In a day perspective is reborn, a night, and the universe turns its face. What once was facing me is now a profile. Unfamiliar. A friend is become a stranger. A stranger however, who carries into my wondering sight a faint remembrance of a long lost soul-twin. What is this new life? Why am I walking its weary way? And as I'm sure you're wondering, gentle reader, what on earth is the purpose of this gathering of words... ? There is none! Except for the simple reason that I love words and I love braiding them together. Hahahahaha....

Poetry of the senses

Muttering through doors, pruning leaves from trees, creating patterns on sand dunes and moving the waters of the sea into a waltz. The scent of water lifted from source to parched physique. Cool fingers caressing fevered brow, memories found within a long forgotten scent, the deja vu of moments from yesterday. Taste of rain: carried, imminent. Singing through the trees, clapping their hands. Who am I?

A lil bit of this, a lil bit of that

It's amazing how nice it is to be home. I've been dashing about the country side since February and had been beginning to wonder if I actually had a home. It looks as though I do. At least it's a house in which my family lives... close enough for me. A built in chauffeuring service... yesssss. Kinda like Driving Miss Rachel. Though a bit younger. Sadly, however, I'd much rather be painting the highways red in my glossy lil BMW Z4. Imagine, owning one, but minus the permission to drive?? Oh the pain. Anyway.

A snapshot from today:

It lays in the palm of my hand, this diminutive orb. I dare no let it stay too long for fear it will commence a slow, but certain deposit of its color. By which I mean melt. What happens when something sensitive to heat is placed in contact with... surprise, surprise... heat. I digress. Its color is yellow, with two bold letters printed in white. It carries with it a faint odor, sweet, pleasing. My mouth waters in response to this stimuli. I flip it high into the air, tilt my head back, open my mouth and arrest its downward plunge on my tongue, but not without it nicking my tooth on the way in. Which creates a twinge of pain, but it is by far worth it. I close my mouth, the temperature rises and the hard outer coating melts away to reveal the inner dark heart. Dark, rich, smooth, eye closing flavor. "Mmmmm." Sadly, this bit of heaven is consumed quickly and my disappointment would begin to rise if I did not have a whole bag. A whole bag of them. Hoooooo boooyyyy. What would one do without M&Ms?

Grr

Sorry, people. I just recevied my first spam, and my response to it is activating the word verification option. My humble apologies.

Eureka! It's the... meaning of life... ?!?

If I had a life, I might have something to write about.

But then again, what is a life?