Good humor bar....

I know a Libran. (You know, the sign is/are The Scales {forgive me Grammar master, Mr. Miagi, Captain Kangaroo, Dr. Phil, Elvis], I'm all shookup as to which, and same for whether it's for effect or affect.)

Balance. All about balance, yeah right. When's the last time you nuked a bowl of Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup and successfully carried it to the dinner table without spilling a drop of that sticky broth crap on the floor - not to mention doing so without 3rd degree burns?

We're an unbalanced sort, desperately wanting to level the scales of life, no teet, no tot.

Doc say "#1 reason you go nursing home, stability, balance," inferring lack thereof.

So, we almost octogenarians tippy toe here, tippy toe there, find an immovable object (preferably away from mirrors), grab on, Ben Dover, remove our undies, TT (fyi tippy-toe abbreviated from hither on out), TT to the bathroom, TT (complete with baby jump over the damn 3 inch wall into the shower), grab soap, drop soap, "oh shit" (sorry), grab grab bar, TT to soap, Ben Dover, grab soap, shampoo, all that, TT (another IHOP over small ledge), grab towel, dry off, "Whew, done" (Celebrate, celebrate, baby hop to the music) home free now.

Then, we trip over the hairbrush we dropped last Tuesday but were to tired to pickup, fall, break hip, hitchhike in big red vehicle with cool lights, put us out, have surgery, drive us to Golden Acres, sans cool lights where they will issue scorn about the impotance of balance, and in the weeks ahead (which could also be spelled 'weaks ahead') learn us all over again, how to TT.

Where was I? Oh yeah, on the tile. So, physical balance, vely important to help you paint the fence, wax the car.

Mental balance. We're all a tad crazy, and if you tell me you are ALWAYS balanced, I will assume you ain't got either CNN or FOX, inlaws, flat tires, 10 minute waits in line at the Dollar(.25) Tree, spam calls, wi-fi down, an itchy itchy rash, and you awaken in the morning with every hair in place.

I call BS as in our Balane Sucks, all of us.

Woke up, fell outta bed.... no, that ain't it.

Woke up. Sat on edge of bed a bit (for balance, ha.) Thank you for another day. Go #1. Make coffee (to help eyelids, sanity, and, to go #2. (Oh don't you 'geez Louise' me, you do TOO!

Turn on the news, read FB. Holy unbalance. Shooting inside Texas Toms, car wrecks, indictments, another rocket shot, tornado warnings ("oh sh*t, no basement", don't worry about it, between 2 and 3am, you'll be asleep) another school employee molestation, damn cable is 'buffering'....HELP! I need somebody, HELP! Not just anybody. HELP! You know I need someone. HELP!

Well sure, we all do, but don't call the Beatles, hell, half of 'em are gone.

Humor. We need humor for balance. Sure a good book, a nap, a cold beer, sitting out in nature, a hug from/to/with a friend/loved one, a Xanax or gummy for some.

Humor helps. Humor is important. EDitor's note, especially if you're maybe impotent.

In walking thru life, I have heard folks mildly admonish those who 'live like that' (almost always resorting to humor.) For those, that line of thinking, should they ever go to the zoo, I wish the chimpanzees good aim.

Life is imbalanced. We've all fallen off the balance beam.

If I overdo it, or attempt to, I'm sorry, I guess.

Life, like tile floors, is/are hard. Excuse me while I kiss the sky. No, that ain't it.

Excuse me while I TT into the bathroom to fix my bedhead. Now whereinthehell did I put my hairbrush?

Love, Victurd and the chimps