Last week’s Thinking Out Loud post on balance was deep.
Today I thought we’d go in the exact opposite direction. Thanks for hosting Amanda. i.e. putting up with my shenanigans. It’s about to get crazy in here. You have been warned.
Please keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times.
Buckle up and hang on because we’re going on a trip. A strange, goofy and perhaps even mystical trip. Maybe I should have just passed out magic mushrooms. It might have been easier, but I’m guessing a lot more expensive. Plus, I don’t really know where to buy potent illegal substances. Not these days. Not those days either.
- Speaking of shrooms, I have a floor to ceiling mural in the guest bedroom of our house. It’s a scene from Alice in Wonderland. It was there when we bought the house five years ago, and I can’t bring myself to paint over all that hard work. Plus, it’s possible the Hubby would affix himself to the wall in a desperate attempt to save the Mad Hatter.
- Since we’re already talking about the Hubby, you should know he’s obsessed with aphrodisiacs. Chocolate: Aphrodisiac. Cinnamon: Aphrodisiac. Tomato: Aphrodisiac. Any food: Aphrodisiac. He decided to indulge his obsession with a podcast on this very topic, which said fruits and veggies shaped like man or woman parts are generally aphrodisiacs. #publicbanana just got a whole lot more interesting. And bigger too.
- From bananas to pussy cats, Max, my oldest furry friend, is food crazed. I’m pretty sure I could check him into rehab. Either that or he spent too many months on skid row before I snatched him up. He’s also the only cat I have assigned a song: Onyx’s Slam. ♫ “I’m a b[ig] boy. Standin’ in my b[ig] boy stance. Hurry up and give me the microphone before I bust in my pants.” ♫ I know there’s a mad rapper lurking in there somewhere.
- Since we’re on the topic of mad rappers, I thought I’d also share the song I have for myself. ♫ “Yo, there’s no place to hide as I step inside the room. Dr. Doom, prepare for the boom. Bam! Aw, man! I, slam, jam, now scream like Tarzan. I be tossing and flossing my style is awesome…..Wu-Tang [Meghan] ain’t nuttin ta fuck with.” ♫ Yes, that’s my head on Linda Hamilton’s body in Terminator. Now what? Bring it.
- I keep getting spam comments from an email address with the phrase moose knuckle in the name and I can’t help but giggle like a school girl. I even saved one comment for purely entertainment reasons. If you don’t get why, it’s probably for the best. I don’t want to taint your pure mind.
- It’s possible I’m also losing mine. My mind, that is. In yesterday’s post, I called something Vegan with eggs in it. Oops. My humblest apologies my animal loving friends. The post has been adjusted, the error removed and the infamous word struck out. “If thine eye offend thee, pluck it out.”
- Does anybody else think it’s weird that I can go from Wu Tang Clan to Edgar Allen Poe in an instant? Nah, good. I like the way you think. Me, I think that’s being well-rounded. I’ve got all my literary bases covered.
- Speaking of literary bases, I want to share a song before I depart. One of my favorite literary rap songs. I promise it’s not an oxymoron. Give Common a chance.
Do you have a song for yourself? Or anyone around you? Do tell. I’m also pretty sure I successfully delivered another short blog post. How are we feeling about this? Do you love it? Do you hate it? Do you feel nothing either way? In which case, you might be a sociopath. Just sayin’.