So, Let’s Chat, You and Me

Rich After Pain Injections
Me After Pain Injections

Caution. If you can’t tell at first glance, this is a somewhat lengthy post. I am motivated and inspired and on a writing roll. Are you on a reading roll?

I take for granted that in the far-flung world of WordPress bloggers, readers, techno-gurus, sophistocrats, hangers-up, hangers-on, Automagicians, and oh so smart Mullengroupies, I am somewhat revered and respected. You could say I rank with the most venerable of world wide WordPressers. I am over thirty, my hairline, and hair are fast disappearing, and over my long life I have acquired the “wisdom of the ages.” I’m bonafide and qualified.

The preceding paragraph was brought to you by the word venerable, the Dictionary.com word of the day. The next time you’re out and about, pick up a copy of Venus, the venerable grizzled old man’s guide to gentlemen’s literature. See, I used the word of the day again – that makes three times. My new goal is to use the word of the day at least once in every post I write.

Today is a landmark day in the world history of me. I finally started my “Great American Novel.” It’ll be good; very, very good. I can make stuff up that some people find interesting or entertaining. I know I can create stories for short periods of time, but I’m not entirely convinced I can sustain it long enough to create a book.

The book tells the story of Frank – a sorta-semi-auto-biopornagrapical collection of diary entries. If the jumbled up, made up word I just created amuses you, Great! If it doesn’t, Great! Playing with words is an addiction – it’s my high. It’s my morphine, Jean. It started around 1984. I attended a writer’s workshop presented by the University of Maryland University College at Kadena Air Base in Okinawa, Japan. A couple of sessions concerned studying and writing creative non-fiction. This was my first introduction to the seductive opium that is Tom Wolfe. At first, it was just experimenting, then recreational, then I was hooked.

I might start publishing short excerpts here on my blog – kinda online auditioning to get some reader feedback.

So I lied. It really isn’t very long. When I started though, I intended to include some other stuff that didn’t make the final cut.

Pain is strange. A cat killing a bird, a car accident, a fire…. Pain arrives, BANG, and there it is, it sits on you. It’s real. And to anybody watching, you look foolish. Like you’ve suddenly become an idiot. There’s no cure for it unless you know somebody who understands how you feel, and knows how to help. ~Charles Bukowski

My Memories – Oops, I Mean Memoirs – Weekly Writing Challenge: Golden Years

Let’s be perfectly honest here – gut wrenching, bone jarring, teeth gnashing, I ain’t lying honest – maybe five people in the whole known universe might be interested in reading my memoirs, abbreviated or not. That being said, because this is WordPress and WordPress challenged me to write this, if I don’t get at least a thousand likes or comments from the billions of WordPress readers, I am going to stab myself in my left thigh with this pencil. Just watch me, I’ll do it, I really will allthewaytothe BONE!!!

DSCN0283They Called Me Shorty

Brn. 1955 AND. Raised AND, GMU, ORD, and Lbrty. Educ. LES, LHS, UMUC. Jnd. USN 1974.

Wait a minute here. Hmmmmmm…[Reading the instructions again]

OMG. Gee whillikers. Well blow me down! and pick me up. I got this all wrong. Why didn’t someone tell me? My poor old befuddled drug-addled brain just now got wrapped around this. They didn’t mean abbreviations, they meant abbreviated, as in maybe shortened. Did I get that right? [Calling Erica……….] Yep, she confirmed it. I really made a mess of it this time. Maybe it’s time for the pencil in the thigh anyway. I need to think about this.

So Erica’s instructions are to write “at least one post” for this challenge. Since this one is pretty much rubbish; since I am leaving soon for the doctor; since the pencil in my thigh is really starting to hurt; I’ll continue in another post at another time in another time-space plane.

Maybe the doctor can defuddle and unaddle my brain.