Images of Language and Incongruity Floating In My Head While Moaning and Groaning About WordPress

This is gonna be short. 

  • And that’s because – Fucking WordPress!!!  What is wrong with you guys. New version is just dandy when it grants you a visit otherwise you’re back doing the old shit again, typing each tag without spellcheck – OMG!  What a chore…

And now you’ve fucked up the most important page!  The super duper versions paper, which we compose on, and you’ve totally destroyed the basic formatting, where you have no idea how many times you have to hit return before you get that extra space you want in there, between paragraphs!
So, as demonstrated above, I can easily use bullet formatting or numeric, but I am no longer able to slide into paragraphs, and it is so fucking annoying!

What kind of Brains are developing these, these – I don’t even know what to call them!
(Personally I think they’re all missing a few screws.)

All very nice, of course, affable, but totally daffy when it comes to basic organizational thinking and, and what? Visualization system is inoperable?

URGENT:  

The Eyes of an Aesthete Wanted

On the other hand, if this is an example of how someone who may have Schizophrenia, for example, works, well, that’s another subject altogether. 

But why do we still need two versions of the Statistics?  Neither is much improved. So make a decision

Throw one in the trash, already!
Seeing the actual word italicized, however, is a whole lot better than than seeing words buried under HTML script. 

So that is an improvement. 
Congratulations, WordPress!

Bravo.
(Sorry. 

That just wouldn’t stay in any longer.)

Ever since I did the update, I’ve been wanting to put this down on paper, but something else always managed to shove it below the pile, where it finally said …
No more of this!
I will no longer be a wallflower!

                     THE END

Bunny Rabbits And The Church Across The Street From Me

It’s Easter on a busy street.
Cars come and go, blaring music, or not.
But one would ever know there is a church across the street from me.
Attached to the other buildings on the block, it’s radically different architecture, blends in with its neighbors.
The Artist and his dog live next to the church in a building just like it (except for colors, shape and height.)
It’s a busy spot on the street.
The lights go on at night
When gatherings occur
And feelings of love and God are shared.
A warm spot for the soul.
But today!
Today is Easter.
The industrial strength restaurant diner door lists hours of service and other stuff.
The door is swung open.
People, coming and going.
Matriarchs and angelic children
Pure of heart and soul – appear.
But they are slow.
And late.
They are always late.
Never on time.
The building could be a bloc from Mondrian …
But anyway.
The only reason I know today is Easter is because a sales person from Nordstrom’s accidentally mentioned it.
“Good thing you came today” she said. We’re closed tomorrow.”
“You are?
Why?”
“It’s Easter.”
“Oh.
Bunny rabbits.
Stuff like that.
Okay.
Thanks, again!”

The Abysmal Truth About Rockville

You can get from here to Rockville in 45 minutes. Straight down I-95 South. In other words … Not far.
So do you ever hear of Dylan making a run to Rockville when he’s playing Baltimore?
Or anyone else for that matter?

Write? Dance? Paint? Music? Practical Decisions Made Early in Life

Many will say artists are highly impractical creatures.
I say humbug to that.
I’d bet we are far better decision makers than top executives at top firms. And its methodology is simple. No complex formulas required to discover.
For us.
At least.
You often wonder why when masses of stupid people persist in identifying us through such a trait we just don’t stand up and rebel?
Guess what?
I was very young when I made my decision. Not more than 5, probably.
I took a good look at myself and said: “Now what do you want to do with yourself? Which one is it gonna be?”
“Why does it have to be one?” I said. “Why not as many as possible?”
“Whatever.”
“Based on my mathematical computations, I conclude the following order of concentration:
Writing
Dancing
Painting
Music
All you need is a pencil, pen, and paper for one.
And for the other, it’s all there. You walk around in it all the time – your body.”

“Intentionally Offending Someone” (What does that mean?)

I often come across titles whose subject matter often remains a mystery to me.

That happened with “Married To The Mob”
That title drove me crazy.

What the fuck was I thinking about!

So here we are again.
With one of those gems –
For an endless source of amusement.

INTENTIONALLY OFFENDING SOMEONE

How do you intentionally offend someone?

Are you civilized about it?

Um.
Pardon?
You have a snot hanging from your nose. (Just wanted to let you know.)

What do you do?

You tell me the truth.