Monthly Archives: May 2011

Is The Smoke I Smell?

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Blech.

I don’t know what the hell is with my senses lately; I think my sense of smell is really out of whack. In this last week, I feel like I have constantly been smelling cigarette smoke.

At work, at home, in the car… everywhere I know that no one is smoking, I keep thinking that I am smelling smoke. And, knowing that and being aware of that… I wonder if I’m going insane or that I’ve got a brain tumor.

I suppose that it’s possible that there actually IS a hint of smoke in the air from the wildfires that have been burning out of control further north from the NJLE however I am doubtful since I haven’t heard anyone else complaining about smelling smoke.

Of course, there is a third possibility; that I’ve simply been thinking too hard and I’ve burned something out in my head.

With A Tongue Of Madness

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I am here tonight to share a great truth with you.

I’m here tonight to dehypnotize you; to free you from a deadly collective obsession. I’m a voice for those who dare not speak, I’m a cry for hearts that suffer in silence and I’m here tonight to tell you what needs to be told.

I feel an itch for public service and I’ve got to scratch it.

In this best of all possible words, everything is in a hell of a mess; everyone knows it, everyone has a different explanation for it… but all these explanations are bunk. Not money, or the lack of it… not the atom bomb or the hydrogen bomb or the cobalt bomb are responsible for our plight. Not capitalism or socialism, not militarism or pacifism, not cannibalism or ventriloquism… none of these are to blame, none of these are at fault. They are mere symptoms, they are mere manifestations of an evil that is deeper rooted.

The true cause of our problems and pains; the basic cause of our headaches and heartaches and torments and turmoils and calamities and crimes… the real cause has been hidden from us; hidden by the very men who are supposed to enlighten and protect us.

The medical profession.

I accuse medical science; I say medical science is a fraud… an organized system of ignorance… I say medical science is a conspiracy, a pre-meditated idiocy.

The Princely Puppy Of Pee-Pee

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Sir Wicket of Barkingham

It’s interesting how Wicket, the royal canine, will have an “accident” on the floor of the kitchen, even at four and a half years old. By this point, he should really be fully house trained because he knows how to ask to be let out to pee. He knows however he doesn’t always do it, for some reason. MOST of the time, he’s good.

Today, however, I had to clean up one of his messes. Normally, a King wouldn’t perform this type of menial task however let me say that I am no regular King. I am a King of the people and for the people. Even more importantly, I am a King for the canines. I look out for everyone… man or beast, large or small. All of them are under my protection and care. THAT’S the kind of King I am.

Anyway, as I said, I was cleaning up the mess and cast a casual gaze over into the Royal Living Room where I could see Wicket laying down with his head on the floor, looking very frowny. And I can tell he was frowning… after living with an animal for a few years and getting to know their personality, you can usually tell when they are happy or when they are upset and even when they are afraid or sad. You may not know exactly why… but you just know.

In this case, I wasn’t completely sure what his state of mind was and what he was thinking or feeling but I’d narrowed it down to two options:

1) Regret: “Dad, I’m sorry that I went pee on the floor; I’m so embarrassed and ashamed.”

or

2) Depressed: “Dude, you don’t even understand how hard it was for me to get that JUST the way I wanted it and now you’re destroying it? I AM SO MAD RIGHT NOW.”

To add insult to injury for our fair pooch; once I was done desecrating his masterpiece, I released his arch-nemesis: the Kenmore MD 12A canister vacuum cleaner with motorized power nozzle (which shall be referred to henceforth as ‘The Kraken’.)

Upon seeing it’s green hide and grey underbelly, Wicket tucked his tail between his legs and skittered off in the opposite direction. As The Kraken roared to life and began roving over the floors of the JeffLand palace, Wicket jumped for the safety of the sofa and remained there until The Kraken’s skinny grey tail retracted back into its body and it laid still.

After all of that, I’m pretty sure that Sir Wicket will be extremely choked at me and I the likelihood is high that I will return to the palace to find another yellow puddle in the Royal Dining Room, left partially out of fear and partially out of hateful spite.

It isn’t easy trying to be a King for the canines. I guess you really can’t please all of the dogs all of the time.