I can't stop this feeling
Deep inside of me
OK, so it ain't really deep inside.. it's just there, sometimes. Festers, mebbe a bit, every once in awhile.. .. Like, "Damnit, I feel a zit coming on, I know I do."
Yesterday, mebbe late last night, coulda even been lying in bed (or is it laying? I was a Physical Education major, not English)... . and I was having onea them 'poor poor pitiful me' moments, days, months, yada...
Ya ever have them 'ain't it awful' droops, saggy moments on some things??
Please, no takey this/that wrong, I LOVES me life..There is MUCH right.. . there are just a few things I would change, rearrange, etc. (Like mebbe, having a fenced yard complete with hound, perhaps, a perty, smiley partner)... ok, enough about me.
Then I thought....... ya know, I ain't really gotta dedicated approach to change a gosh darn thing. Procrastinate, procrastinate, dance to the music. Whilst I loves me some status quo things, work, golf, family, my buddies, sports, writing, outside, yum, much. I don't concentrate, plan, take steps to improve, change things to mebbe enhance life even better. YOU do dat?
No. Hells to the no's. I ain't talking rock bottom.
But... VICTOR, we've spoken 98 times about "You CAN'T start a sentence with 'BUT'. " Ahm, OK.
But, I was a PE major. But, let's pretend 'rock bottom', kinda like the mule that fell in the well. Sure you've read the Band Camp story, but in case ya ain't. Farmer's mule fell in the well.
Farmer heard it braying, mebbe 'crying'... assessed the situation.. while he sympathized with the old mule, he decided neither the mule or the well were worth the trouble of saving, SO, he Facebook messaged (I added this part!) all his neighbors, told of plans, "Bring shovels".. his village showed up.. they dug, tossed dirt in the well.. mule, at first, hyrsterical. Soon, not so much.
Mule decided to 'shake off each shovel of dirt'. and use the rising pile of dirt/sod, to step up, neared the toppa the well. Soon, whilst battered and exhausted, there he was, up/out of the well. What seemed like could bury him, actually blessed him.
Ain't no sunshine when it's dark. No, wait, that was the eclipse, last week, sorry.
Bah-da, bah-da bah-da... No, damnit Victor.. that was Monday Monday, a blog from a a few weeks ago.
Oh yeah, sorry.
Whilst the mule didn't plan... he did figure a way.
Gonna talk sports now. NO VICTOR, NO MORE SPORTS. NO MORE SPORTS. NO MORE SPORTS.
Sorry, not really sorry. This is lil ole Kansas City. In the last 20, 30, fitty years, we hadn't won chit. Truth. Last decade, been to two World Series (won one), been to 4 Super Bowls (won 3).. hell to the yes we're gonna talk sports. Soon, both teams will suck, I'll be tucked away in the urn and you'll run onto a blog, perhaps about howthehell to save, grow, an orchid, mebbe even poseys. Ya know?
Royals won it all in 2015. Pretty much 'bring a pocket fulla posey' ever since because they're really stunk it up. (If ya ain't Googled that nursery rhyme, don't, yuck). Anyways, right there in black and white this morning. Bobby Witt Jr (he's the baseball version of Patrick Mahomes)..
Lil by lil, they're improving. That Witt feller noted (from the morning paper) All of which has changed the essence of what it means to take it one day at a time this year: working to keep building “step by step, brick by brick,” as Witt put it, instead of to hoist themselves out of a bottomless pit.
Bottomless pit... a mule in a well...
No cause for alarm. A lil bit, dirt, brick, one day, at a time.
So, before ya know it... if I plan (or, if you plan) we can move dirt, gather victories, paint an even more pertier life.........
I see...a new place, complete with big ole fenced yard, a miniature schnauzer (we'll call him Bruiser) AND a big ole' canardly tell, part lab part who knows brown hound (we'll call him Gabe Jr, or, Junior for short, or Witt, dunno).. and then, we'll add to the recipe a 64 year old rich divorced doesn't speak English blonde (calm down, just kidding), we'll add an old raisin lady that smiles so nicely I wouldn't give a crap if she kicked my butt in Scrabble.
Well, well, well..
Or, brick by brick.
Paul Harvey, good day.
There she was just a-walkin' down the street, singin''Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do'
Victor, you're nuts. Mebbe. Who cares? I can't stop this feeling
Deep inside of me
Love, Victurd
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