So until I can find a suitable home I am doing the whole short term hotel stay thang.  Can’t sayz that I enjoy the unrootedness of it all yet there are fringe benefits … like maid service.

Everything would be hunky dory except for the fact that there is a smell haunting the middle of the bed.  I’m serious.  If I lay in the center a very powerful stench imprints on the back of my nostrils.  At first it seemed like odiferous hand lotion.  Then later it reminded me of the fetid gas of a decomposing body. 

Years ago when I was living in Cupertino an animal died under our house and the smell wafted up through the floor and like to have knocked me out.  We never found the offending carcass and after a week or so it smelled itself out.  This smell reminds me a bit of that smell.

Now, the funny thing is, I am fine on the sides of the bed.  NO SMELL!  In fact, it is even hard to pick up scent in the middle if you’re nosing around for it.  I have ascertained it is coming from the mattress.  I think.  But even then, it is hard to pick up the trail cold.  However, if I lay down the stench begins to overwhelm me.  It makes me nauseous.  It is that bad. 

So I sleep crammed over to one side.  Now I’m irrationally afraid I might tumble off the bed and hit my head on the nightstand.  I’m thus caught between the Scylla of smell and Charybdis of falling off the bed.

“Why don’t you just move rooms?” I have been asked.
Well, it takes a lot more than a malodorous whiff to move me out of my comfort zone!

Have you ever been haunted by a smell?  A taste?  A picture?  A touch?

Ah and pls visit “Erotic Jottings” on this metaphysicalist of Mondays!

Wow, it is rare that I have NOTHING to say.  So i will ramble instead.

I am very very happy the US Men's Soccer team won their semifinal match with Spain yesterday and for the first time in history will play in the final of a FIFA sponsered tournament.  They will play the winner of the Brazil - South Africa match today.  Most probably Brazil.  This Sunday.  Yeah!  People were writing them off after they got crushed by Brazil and Italy in the prelims.  Then they beat Egypt 3-0 and Brazil beat Italy by 3 thus sending them to the next round.

Ah, and i will get to watch the MNT scrubs play in Seattle next weekend (July 4).

What else?

Well, I have landed in sunny califor-nigh-yeah.  Am looking for digs.  I will plough up cupcake mountain on my bike soon ... the site of my last major bike wreck. 

I need a haircut. 

Speaking of which - if you're into it - pls read "Hair today, gone tomorrow"

So what will you do on 4th of July weekend?
Do you like to watch soccer?
How often do you get your hair cut?

 

So do you love carbs?  Or do you hate them?  I find this topic elicits grand appetites and passions.

Me, I used to exercise daily until my body betrayed me.  Damn knees!  My poor ligaments have become wigglier than jello.  I used to be able to eat a lot of everything and burn it off.  Now I must watch what I eat lest I swell up like a balloon.

So I was riding down the highway somewhere in Nevada when I saw a sign for Pumpernickel Valley and thought I do so love the Pump – that seedy bread with the tart taste.  I’m not fond of sourdough, though.  Bad taste.  And then there are the French with their phallicy baguettes. 

Anyway, do you love your carbs?
Has your body let you down in any way?

ah and should you like to read some more metaphysical musings on this monday pls pop over to Naughty Jester for "MM on Attachments"

I heard a rumor that the folks at PBS in an attempt to bump up ratings have a new children’s show, Sexame Street, in development.  What has the world come to?  Kiddie porn?

The show apparently will revolve around an orgy of pettable characters.  The main character is Groper.  He seems to always be horny.  Then there is the lovable pair of Ernie and Spurt.  And occasional visits by Big Bad Bird (and you can use your imagination as to just how big he is).
 
What’s next?   A porn related talk show with host Charlie Hose?

Ok, what is your favorite PBS show?
Do you think kiddie porn will fly?

And if you’d like some more SBT action please pop over and read “Do you swallow?”

So the beach trip has concluded.  Our kids got along astonishingly well.  Too well in fact.  They hung out and got up to mischief together.  And along the way they united on a cause.  Anger at their parents for having the audacity and selfishness to seek happiness by exiting dysfunctional marriages.  This lead to huge episodes of drama on the trip home.

So we got blasted with both barrels.

Which is good (as painful as it sounds).  Emotion, especially anger, festers when held inside.  The best way to heal an emotional wound is to lance it and purge the gunk.

So the adventures continue ...

Ever feel like you were a player in the drama of a soap opera that was your life?
Do you feel anger is best expunged?  Is there a circumstance when holding it in is better?


Ah and if you’re missing your metaphysical Monday fix please pop over to Naughty Jester for some fun … “Metaphyical Musings on Saint Jude”

So another update from the sweltering heat of south Georgia.

Under the pretense of getting a piggy-back ride, Tracy had grafted herself to me in the shallow in and out of the morning tide.  Unconsciously, we wandered dangerously close to deep waters when we heard a woman screaming:

“Shark!  Shark!  Ya’ll watch out there’s a shark RIGHT THERE!” 

I glanced over and noticed the twin flaps of an innocuous little cow ray.  My son and her daughter had been touching (or torturing – seawaterboarding?) the playful creatures earlier.  I think they (the rays) like to frighten unsuspecting tourists by mimicking great white dorsal fins.

After we calmed the lady down a pair of porpoises came ambling by.  They would hump out of the water and blast a breath of air through their blow hole.  They sent the entire ocean around us into a tizzy.  Little shad were jumping to and fro.

We eventually made if safely back to shore, I am happy to report.  And all is well.

Have you ever suffered a case of mistaken (fish) identity?
Have you ever been cowed by a ray?
Do you wish you had a blow holes (like a porpoise)?

And for some sex blog Thursday fun pop over to Naughty Jester for some Heav y Petting .

Or get over to the iTunes store to get a copy of the Naughty Jester app (Just search for "Jester").  It got approved!!!!!!!! 

So a quickie blog from the marshes of Saint Simons Island.  Tracy and I have brought our families together under the hot Georgia sun for the first time.  (I’m already burned in places I would never have expected!)

On the other hand, I’m happy to report – knock on hardwood – that the blending has found it’s own familial eloquence.

This evening we will be hooking up with Cat Zen Space, All Weather Girl and Laura in Jacksonville.  So looking forward to putting bodies to familiar icons.

Peace.

Do you tan or burn?  What’s the worst (place) you’ve ever burned?
Where do you think I sun-burnt myself?

Oh yeah, and over on Naughty Jester, an itty bitty sex blog on Teeters!

So what do you think of when you hear the word ASS?  Do you think of our illicitous equine friend the donkey?  Or a prominent protrusion of human anatomy, perhaps?  Maybe you think of a town Italy … but then you’d need to add and “O” (like “I’ma gonna live in AssO”) to sound legit.  Maybe you think of a little known Norse deity, Ass, who is always getting spanked by Thor’s hammer (“so are you feelin Loki tonight?”)

Or quite possibly you think of the American Scatological Association (I would never stoop to toilet humor, nevah!)?   How about Advanced SubStation Alpha (which if you’ve heard of before proves without a doubt you’re a closet geek)?

Well, you know what they say, “When you assume you make and ASS of U and Me”. 
Musical interlude:


Got me to thinking.  Does that mean an assistant makes and ASS out of your SISter and AuNT?  How dare that damn assistant!

Or if you have an astigmatism does that mean you make an ASS out of TIGger and MATISM (lifelong commitment to a bouncy partner)?  

Or when you study astrology are you making an ASS out of STROLlogy (the study of stellar stollers)?

Well, I’ve pretty much petered out of ideas. 

Can you add any ASS play that I haven’t uncovered?  Points for creativity?
What have you got planned for the weekend?

And if you want some more SBT action step over to Naughty Jester for “Are you in the mood to shag?” which I cleaned up to read “Are you in the mood for love” because I am making NJ into an iphone app and have submitted to the iTunes app store for approval and thus have to be on my best behavior.  (Notice I’ve changed it to “Sexy Blog Thursday” for same reason).  Let me know if you’ve got and iPhone or iTouch (or go buy one for the occasion) and I will give the app to you for FREE!

So was out on a quaint 50-mile bike ride yesterday and for the second week in a row I saw a curious sight.  As we rolled up on Forgiveness Baptist church, I noticed in the side yard they had erected a basketball hoop.  The court was not surfaced in your traditional shiny wood or even concrete.  It was laid down in grass.  Last week I saw a similarly verdant frontcourt.

I mean, I know they play tennis on grass at Wimbledon.  Hell, we even play soccer, football and assorted other contact sports on grass.  But basketball?  What’s up with that?
But therein I espied a business opportunity.  What about a NGBA or national grass basketball association?  Without the need for expensive facilities, we could camp out in mid tier cities.  Just find a back yard, put up some hoops and viola – we’ve got us a new league.

So now to muse metaphysically for a moment on this Monday. 
Do you like to skate along the surface of reality or do you prefer to deep-dive into the murky waters?  Are you a cormorant or a duck?  Are you ice or silt?

Me, I have a perverse predilection for depth of meaning - even when or where none exists.  I search for it in words, in actions, in nature, in the skein of coincidence that makes up reality for me.

So how about you, have you ever played basketball on grass?
Are you a cormorant or a duck?
Do you find meaning where none exists or do you take reality at face value?

Ah, and if you choose to read about the same topic from another angle please pop over to Naughty Jester to read “Metaphysical musings on surfaces”

So I would like to put out an all points bulletin that Tracy and I will be first meeting up with Cat Zen Space, All Weather Girl and whoever else would like to join in Jacksonville on Mon June 8.  Maybe we’ll eat Chinese (alluding to an old CZS blog).   Either way we are going to paint the town boiled-shrimp red. 

Then the caravan hits the road and will be in Seattle the first week of July mixing a little business and pleasure.  So let’s get a ho-down a ho-downin.  We can paint the town red, white and blue.  And the US Men’s National team is playing at Qwest stadium on July 4th (decent tickets are $50).  Yayyyyy!!!!!!   Joko has volunteered to be point man to herd all of you Seattle (and surrounding area) cats to said ho-down.  Please comment forthwith if you’re keen.

Also would like to pull off the oft threatened but never consummated SF Bay area myspace meetup either late June or late July.  Pls comment if you’d be interested in attending or hosting (wink wink nod nod hint hint Anthro_Geek).  We need to fix a date and place and let the mad partying commence .... 

Are you going to be in any of these cities during any of those time frames and hip to party down, myspace style???
Are you planning any myspace meetups this summer?

Oh and if you want some SBT action head over to Naughty Jester for this week’s installment:  “Cloudy Linings to my Silver”

Which condiment best describes your personality?

Me, I’d have to go with relish.  Not dill, mind you.  Dill is dull.  I would be sweet relish.  The kind you slather on your dog.  Or toss into your tunafish salad.

I know some folks are mustard:  yellow, tart, and forever dripping off the dog and onto clothes.  While others are ole reliable – ketchup: red and ubiquitous.

Others still are exotic (note I refrained from malaproptizing it “erotic”) like Major Gray’s chutney.  It is a man go type.

So on this memorialist of days, what condiment best describes your personality?
Have you ever experience Major Gray’s?

And if you want some more funky metaphysical musings please hop over to Naughty Jester for “Metaphysical Musings on Coupling”

Well, would you?

On the surface it seems like a no brainer.  Or is it?

I know I, for one, love the feel of keyboards clicking amorously to my touch.  I enjoy the splash of words on the page.  I crave the soft purring of my computer as the fan clicks on when it overheats.   I admire words stretched langorously on the page. 

So which do you think I prefer?

ah, and over on naughty jester "Wordplay as foreplay"  ENJOY!

So year ago I lived in Barcelona.  I used to run up along the mountains that ring the city.  It was amazing looking down as the city stretched to the Mediterranean sea.  I always felt abnormally happy then.

Now I think I know why.  According to published reports, the air in Barcelona has trace elements of cocaine in it.  850 picograms of Blohan dust per cubic meter of air.  In Rome, they only found 100 picograms per cubic meter.
I guess there are so many folks snorting up on party mountain, Montjuïc, that it laces the air with happy dust.  And we, the sniffing public, get jubilantly juiced. 
Got me to pondering.  How much of our happiness is self-induced?  And how much is due to external influences, like Blohan dust?  
I have come to realize that happiness has a lot to do with momentum.  When things go well in your professional and personal life, you ride high and happiness begins to feed on itself.   Invariably the run ends and sadness, anger, pain or ennui creeps in.  The world quite literally harshes your mellow.  And then,  like the sun rising or the change of seasons, your world lightens up and the cycle begins anew.

How about you, to what extent are you personally responsible for your own happiness and how much is outside of your control?
What harshes your mellow?
Have you ever breathed the cokey Barcelona air?

Also, please pop over to Naughty Jester for some more Monday metaphysical musings on THE MAN PURSE.

In the not too distant past I found myself rapt at a hotel in Mountain View California.  You see, in the middle of night the couple in the room next door began to shake and bake.  They produced such moanings and groanings, thumping and bumping, squealing and zealing that I found it impossible to sleep or tune them out.

Thank goodness I was not alone.

On the plus side, the show piping through the paper thin walls obviated the need to shell out $14.99 to watch Hot Rod Bods adult entertainment on the hotel television set.  On the down side, their blissful cries demanded a response. 

I could have pounded on the wall.  Or complained to the front desk or simply knocked on their door and told them to “get a room”.  But then, they were in a room.  So instead, my partner and I decided to give them back what they had been dishing out.   We went thermo-nuclear.  We met them groan for groan, yelp for yelp.  Soon this arms-hands-and-various-other-body-parts war had escalated to mammoth proportions. 
We were simply not going to be out-ecstasied by this faceless, formless couple bopping the night away next door.   So war can be ugly and loud.  We reached new heights of boisterousness. 

Then came a knock on our door!  I opened to find one of our neighbors from the other side, a heavily tattooed biker in black saying “Shut the f#&#K up already.”  So we suffered the other couples bonfire of love in abject ignominy.  Cause my momma always taught me to heed bleary-eyed Hell’s Angel Biker dudes when they get a bee in their bonnet.

Have you ever been in a nuclear arms race of luv with your neighbor?
Ever run into a bleary-eyed Hell’s Angel Biker dude?

Ah and if you would like some naughty pleasure today please pop over to Naughty Jester for “Tilting at Windmills.”

So Cat Zen Space has graciously inaugurated Naughty Jester’s guest jester category with a hilarious blog entitled “Teabagging it”.  CLICK HERE TO VISIT AND READ

If you read/like him please pimp this.

So I have been angsting of late of late in my personal life.  A friend says that angst is my lover and she gets a tad jealous.  Funny how angst slows life down and pretty disrupts all functioning systems.  You mull.  You brood.  You ruminate and reflect.  And eventually an answer percolates up and you breathe a sigh of relief.  Then, just when you think you’ve escaped the quagmire, you sink back down again.

Angst is somewhat like quicksand.  I guess.  I’ve never experienced quicksand first hand.  But from what I see on TV, apparently the more you struggle the faster and deeper you sink.  The same goes for life’s vexing problems. 

Like ice cream, there are several flavors of angst.  There is the dark chocolate type where you debate two bad choices and must settle on the lesser of two evils.  There is also the rainbow sherbet, where you have myriad beautiful options and must choose one.  Then there is the Neapolitan special:  and while you love the vanilla, the chocolate and the strawberry equally, you, alas, can only spoon one flavor into your life’s bowl. 

So the great thing about angst is that it is totally self-inflicted.  You just choose.  Live your choice.  And life sorts itself out.  Until the next angsty choice shows up on your doorstep like a wet, scraggily stray cat ….

So how about you, do you angst? 
What’s your favorite ice cream?