Hello Fellow Travelers!
I was all set to take on a big think-piece on something cancer-related (This week cookie cancer. Decidedly not "funner". Completely disproves my theory about putting the word cookie in front of any word, making it "funner". It works on almost any word. Some words are just too icky!) Then this happened: I was popping off, as I often do about my son's 9th Grade reading assignment: John Steinbeck's "Of Mice & Men", or how I might of titled it: "Two Hobos Dreaming About Ketchup" or "Homeless Dudes Fantasizing About Baked Beans! In cans!" Yuck! Then I was asked the following snarky question: Would I eat the legumes in cans if it meant I would walk? I detest ketchup and baked beans and canned foods in general. It's a silly question, in general and really silly for me in particular (the unequivocal answer would be "Of course, every day and twice on Sundays!) but it got me thinking, what wouldn't I do to walk? I voluntarily had a shunt placed permanently in my brain on the off chance it might help! It didn't. But it's one more thing I can check off my list! Who does that?
I'll tell you who, someone who is so desperate for any improvement that drilling another hole into my cranium starts to make a lot of sense! "Sounds good, let's try that!" Any other time "cranium" and "drilling" would be bad ideas! I feel so great that everything sounds like a great idea! Rainbows? Uzis? Ketchup? Unicorns? Baked Beans? Why not? It's all good (Thank you, Hamid!)
Remember Cal Worthington and his "dog, Spot"? I'm like the late, great, Mr. Worthington, I would eat a bug or stand on my head (with a lot of help) to walk. What I have to do to get there doesn't matter one iota to me.
According to PBS, FDR never let himself be photographed in a wheelchair, so the public never knew that he was for all intensive purposes, paralyzed from 1921 to the end of his life. That charade carried him through three terms during the "Great Depression".
So my search for an answer continues. And my unparalleled hatred of wheelchairs also continues. Go see Cal, Go See Cal, Go See Cal! Kinda catchy!
PS. Did anybody see last week's "Naked & Afraid"? Those two just flat out didn't like each other!
Awkward!
I was all set to take on a big think-piece on something cancer-related (This week cookie cancer. Decidedly not "funner". Completely disproves my theory about putting the word cookie in front of any word, making it "funner". It works on almost any word. Some words are just too icky!) Then this happened: I was popping off, as I often do about my son's 9th Grade reading assignment: John Steinbeck's "Of Mice & Men", or how I might of titled it: "Two Hobos Dreaming About Ketchup" or "Homeless Dudes Fantasizing About Baked Beans! In cans!" Yuck! Then I was asked the following snarky question: Would I eat the legumes in cans if it meant I would walk? I detest ketchup and baked beans and canned foods in general. It's a silly question, in general and really silly for me in particular (the unequivocal answer would be "Of course, every day and twice on Sundays!) but it got me thinking, what wouldn't I do to walk? I voluntarily had a shunt placed permanently in my brain on the off chance it might help! It didn't. But it's one more thing I can check off my list! Who does that?
I'll tell you who, someone who is so desperate for any improvement that drilling another hole into my cranium starts to make a lot of sense! "Sounds good, let's try that!" Any other time "cranium" and "drilling" would be bad ideas! I feel so great that everything sounds like a great idea! Rainbows? Uzis? Ketchup? Unicorns? Baked Beans? Why not? It's all good (Thank you, Hamid!)
Remember Cal Worthington and his "dog, Spot"? I'm like the late, great, Mr. Worthington, I would eat a bug or stand on my head (with a lot of help) to walk. What I have to do to get there doesn't matter one iota to me.
According to PBS, FDR never let himself be photographed in a wheelchair, so the public never knew that he was for all intensive purposes, paralyzed from 1921 to the end of his life. That charade carried him through three terms during the "Great Depression".
So my search for an answer continues. And my unparalleled hatred of wheelchairs also continues. Go see Cal, Go See Cal, Go See Cal! Kinda catchy!
PS. Did anybody see last week's "Naked & Afraid"? Those two just flat out didn't like each other!
Awkward!
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