Awful good.

 I hate/love that.

It's lifelike. (If you'll notice, sentence one above is indented. This one ain't, looks awful. Good, I guess.)

Jobs are awful, payday ain't.  

Forrest reminds, "I'm an excellent driver." Me too... good even. Then I got married, learned I was awful. Don't get me wrong, happy. An awful good marriage, so to speak (enter a smiley face here because I'm awful at computer crap and dunno how to, but, good of you to envision.)

You put the lime in the coconut and drink it all up. Tastes awful good, bellyache gone...awful though that I broke out in hives.

You take the good with the bad... like a red rubber ball... or a rollercoaster (some throw their arms up in jubilation, pee a bit.... others might throw __, and ____ a bit. Eww.)

Many years of awfully good lasagna, spaghetti, bowling alley 300 burgers, many emptied 30-packs of beer, have caused my physique (which, long ago when I turned sideways in the mirror looked like --> 'I' ).. now looks like --> 'b' when turned sideways. All that good food, drink, done that. Ain't it awful?

Life. Teeter, totter. (Remember the hefty kid in school that was teased somethin' awful, but got his revenge at recess when he hoisted you six foot in the air on the teeter totter, jumped off, had a good laugh whilst your tailbone hurt awfully bad for three months? Me too.)

Retirement, awfully good.  (Remember? I'm an excellent driver. good even.) Hell's bells, now I have an awful time seeing the white lines at night. Color me soon to be a day driver.  Don't cry for me Argentina, I've driven hella miles, had an awfully good life.

Dance to the music, dance to the music. He's gonna add a drummer for people who only need a beat. Then, add a guitar, to make it easy to move your feet.  I'm gonna add some bottom so that the dancers just won't hide. You might like to hear my organ, I said a ride Sally, ride. GO FOR IT SALLY, keep on'a dancin'! It feels AWFUL GOOD! Besides, there' a defibrillator in the back room, and I'll rub your feet when yur done.

The good, the bad, the ugly. Cats come to you (or not). Jump on your lap. Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Awful good feeling. Get up, uh huh, hairball.

Imagine Steve Martin, whatever his character's name was, frustrated something awful, talking to his wife about the complexities of life, parenting, "Life is messy..I hate messy."  Wife's grandma, very aged, pipes in with "You know, when I was young, Grandpa took me on a roller coaster. Up and down, up, down. Oh what a ride. I always wanted to go again. It was just interesting to me that a ride could make you so frightened, so scared, so sick, so excited..and so thrilled all together. Some didn't like it, they went on the merry-go-round. That just goes around. Nothing. I like the roller coaster. You get more out of it."

Color me a simpleton, that's one of my favorite scenes EVER. (Never mind the fact Martin poo-pooed her speech, wife stood up for grandma, said "I happened to have loved it." They were all going somewhere, Granny went to get in the car after her diddy.. Martin peeked out the window, smirked, "If she's so wise, all-knowing then why is she sitting in the neighbor's car?")

Life is so imperfect it's perfect. Tomorrow is another day. Laughing until your belly hurts would never happen without shedding an occasional tear. 

Check Engine Light is GONNA eventually come on, a given. Answer that damn phone, buy that extended warranty. It's an awful good idea.

Life really begins when you are finally 42" tall and you're allowed to get on the ride.

Love, Victurd