Saturday, May 4, 2024

How can you have any pudding if you don't eat yer meat?

Blessed.

Blessed is the additional day when we open our peepers.  Do you know people who awaken, and they are disgustingly (said lovingly) in a good mood from the first eyelid opening?  I know, me too.. I dunno how they do it and I admire them/that.

I generally need jumper cables... which, redefined is coffee, the local (or national, don't matter) news so I can combobulate "Oh yeah, today is Saturday." Them creators of blogspot underlined combobulate with a red line.  How can you have any pudding if you don't eat yer meat, misspell words, or, use words that ain't words.

I just figured, most 70-somethings, upon awakening, are DIScombobulated.  I done looked at Google, dat's a word, so, figured, if you chop off the DIS, it would mean to unconfuse.  I guess maybe, not.

It doesn't have to be Folgers in my cup, I enjoy many varieties.

Waking up, to me, is like tippy toeing outside, barefoot.  Soooooooo many perils to make one say OUCH, DAMNIT, THAT HURT, I HATE THAT! Then, one limps thru the day in a pissy mood.

I read the news today oh boy.  Well, not first.  First I returned a text to my youngest niece who also gets up at ugly-30, saw her 4 on Wordle, greeting for the day, winged back "great minds" (4, me too), then I headed for the Sport's page.

What is your routine?  Alla the above (minus the lady screaming about pudding, and, the blog creators being all anal about being grammatically correct) are HAPPY.

Whew.  First base.  We made is safely to first base.

Abbott started convo, lineup card with Costello, relating "Who is on First Base" 

Costello pressed Abbott back for ''Who's on First Base?"  

"I'm telling you, Who is on first base."  

"You know the fellows name?"  

"Yes"

"Well, then who's on first base?"

"Yes"

"I mean the fellow's name on first base?"

"Who."

"The guy on first base."

"Who is on first base."

"Well what are you asking me for?"

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you, Who is on first base."

Sorry... kinda got off the beaten path there. The path, again, wake up (YAY), make coffee, pee (or, pee, then make coffee should that urge hit first).. get my butt kicked (normally) in Wordle...turn to the Sport's page. Who?  Me, band camp, I did play first base once.

Mid-tippy toeing around the backyard barefooted, kinda sorta.  We dun talked about them that always awaken chirpy.  Me and Cher say It Ain't Me Babe.  I needs me jumper cables, no one screaming in my ear about pudding... that.

Sport's page is usually happy. Was,  Mostly. Chirpy meter at abouta 3.

"Who's on second?" (The Local news)  "No, Who's on first, What is on second."

The local news reminded me of when in relationship.  Don't get me wrong, I loves relationships, I do.  But, in the morning that generally involves bedhead, bad breath, then baby tooters on the way to the john.  Fun stuff, kinda, that ya miss when you're an old, divorced, grumpy fart.  Local news was yuck, which, it generally is - at least what happened yesterday part usually is...

Ok, so we know from the Sports, Who is on first.  Local news relates What is on second.  Third base? World news?  I dont know.

"Yes, I don't know is on 3rd."

"Who."

"No, he's on first.  What's on second, I don't know is on third."

World news, today, and most every day, is akin to skid stains on undies. Well hell, they're real, 'almost' shit happens.  Protests. Slaying arrests. Possible ground operation slaughter. $50 billion in aid.  Warn of email cyberattacks.  Ahm, these jumper cables ain't working, are you sure it ain't your alternator?

So...... in this search for impetus to happy, exit World news, stage left.  Let's go to Facebook, that's kinda like leftfield, ya just never know. "Who's in leftfield?"  "Why"   "I don't know, I just thought I'd ask." "Well, I just thought I'd tell you."

"Who's in leftfield." "No, who is on first base." "Stay out of the infield, the left fielder's name?"   "Why"  "Because."  "Oh, he's in centerfield."

So I get's to Facebook..  a few funny ha ha's, grandkid pics, hound pooches, cats in all places..  YES.. Chirpy meter up to fitty, it's gonna be a great day!

So, I go to a page that is near and dear to me.  The kiddos I sat with 54 years ago. "Your activity is limited. One post a day until May 31, 2024. You've reached today's posting limit." How can you have any pudding if you don't eat yer meat?'

So, I tippy toed to udder places... slid into a "Tastes great!!" (view from Repub shoes) to "Less filling!" (Dem sneakers) convo... After reading 22 he said she said, I was dizzy (I'm so dizzy, my head is spinning, Like a whirlpool, it never ends, And it's you, Facebook, making it spin, You're making me dizzy."  So, I added a 23rd post to the posting "I thought the KC Chiefs had a really good draft." (I self depricate tons, so, don't shoot me when I say I wanted to hit 'like' on my own comment, didn't, but wanted to.) Chirpy meter inched to fitty-four percent.

I decided to blog.  Please know, you bring me happiness.  I, genuinely, try to write about, stay, HAPPY.  Happy is the condiment bar to a nice, fun, life. I know, I know, happy is a choice.  All that said, yeah, Wordle, coffee, jokes, watching dog videos, nature, friends, family, an occasional beer, people watching,  SEEING OTHERS SMILE, much.  Much makes this path to fun life rosier.  Easier sledding.  I mean (Victor, you HATE when people start a sentence with "I mean", cause, you've said "If one who always starts a sentence suddenly says a sentence that ain't started with "I mean", should we be suspect of what they're going to say?")

I mean, we, geezers, ARE over the hill. Shouldn't downhill be easier sledding?

So.......... thanks to YOU, and coffee, the ability to pee, alla the aforementioned fun things I found, my chirpy meter is at 93.  That ain't bad.  I'll seeya tomorrow.

"WAIT"  Yeah? 'You got a pitcher on this team?"

Tomorrow.

Life is good, I just know it because that little redheaded snotnose said the sun will come out tomorrow.

Granny said "To double your money, fold it in half."  As opposed to going out on a limb and betting on Fierceness or Sierra Leone.  

"Who's that?"

Ahm, we've already established who Who is.

Paul Harvey, Good Day.

Notes compiled by Secretariat, 
Spellcheck by Affirmed
Security provided by Barney Fife, one bullet a day until May 31, 2024.

Love, Victurd

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