or to put it another way (cover your virgin ears now), who the fuck kidnapped me and sent this soap-box-loving revolutionary to take over my diary and drive me absolutely nuts?...

and here I am, blogging for relief and no Jerry, I am not loving every minute of it baby... give me a sit com, I need an escape...

want proof?... well, here's the last note I left:

I just enjoyed your last two entries... I intend to read more when my ADD quiets down... seriously, I needed a distraction from my ranting and you provided it and I want to thank you... yes, it is late and I am too wired for this ungodly hour, but it's my time, my time I say, and I shall lose my mind any time I see fit... just ask hissandtell

and I smiled a smiley face to conclude it... the note, I mean... and the note was to a complete stranger... will I be speaking to the police as a dangerously mad note-leaver next?... who knows, I've left more insane (or is that honest) notes and found wonderful friends once we got through the misunderstandings and death threats...

yes, you guessed it, it's Saturday night and I ain't got no body... I got some money cuz I just got paid... all I want is someone to talk to... I'm in an awful way...

can't you tell?...

I want to laugh, even if the best I can muster is maniacle laughter at the insanity I have lurking in the corners of my mind (right next to the windmills... wanna tilt?)... I want to laugh to keep from crying (as I was just moments ago)... I want to laugh in death's face (would facial recognition software recognize the face of death?)... I want to laugh at the ridiculous questions my mind ponders at odd hours of the night... I want to laugh at the budding carpel tunnel syndrome aching to become full blown in both arms when I make this sort of futile attempt to actually type as if I could actually keep up with my mind... I want to actually keep up with my mind, in fact, I want to get ahead of it and steer it in an absolutely euphoric direction...

without drugs...

but then again, got some good (bleep beep bleep beep)?...

oh holy pothead, please return for just a little while and take my mind where minds don't usually go, along the amazing journey to learn all we could know... I want to be free again... I want to talk a mile a minute... no, a marathon a minute, at least... I want to lose my mind in some harmless fashion so only I understand exactly what I am laughing about... at least until the one and really trule true close friends in physical spaces come along again...

I want to go back to lamenting my loneliness, mourning my lost innocence and longing for the stuff in storage and being the profoundly self-indulgent babbler I can be (and love so dearly being)...

it's a matter of sanity, I tell you, sanity!...

meanwhile, while I was browsing...

some interesting bits out there in byteland (coming up with different names for the www in my spare time keeps me off the streets and out of trouble)... I shall include some of them here:

Crooks and Liars seems to be a popular politically incorrect blog that is taking advantage of the wealth of governmental blunders, criticism and other odd statements by politicians and celebrities, anti-government news, and of course, the tragedy... it does have video clips of news reports and may very well be a very worthwhile site and just because I am trying to be anti-criticism at the moment, which seems oxymoronic in itself as I am criticizing criticism, visit the site and decide for yourself...

anyway, it woke me up a bit to my own critical and somewhat negative entries of late (not that I want to take anything back, in fact, I wish more of you would have read them before another entry popped up to push them into the archives... and not just for attention, but to get opinions and ideas)...

so I decided I would take a look around at what others are posting about the events of the past week and this entry was born...

Liberal Blogs for Hurricane Relief seems to be collecting a lot of money and is apparently run by Drop Cash, but nowhere do I see any explanation of what Drop Cash is or why we should trust a blog run business to collect money... it appears to have been around since the summer of 2004 and appears to be in the business of writing cash-collecting software, but there's no professional business site or any real explanation of what they are about that can be easily found through a link on their main pages... still if the project is legit and the money goes where it's needed most, more power to them...

I haven't found a "Conservative Blogs for Hurricane Relief", not to say it's not out there somewhere, so I have nothing toi give equal time to...

yes, that's the sort of irrelevant nonsense I want to be reporting here... casa de candoor is not some sort of political soapbox... it's political satire, if it's anything political at all... my thoughts about serious politics and government and rules that control freaks seem to love so much runs along the lines of Pinky and the Brain and I take the Laurel-Abbott-Norton-like Pinky more seriously than I do the Hardy-Costello--Cramden-like Brain...

think about that...

you just can't start taking me seriously, world, it's like the song says, I don't want to be President... don't draft me, I'll run away to Canada... no wait, Canada's already thrown me out once... I wonder how long the Canadian memory is...

I picture a Mounty holding his arms apart saying ever so seriously and casually (and yes, Canadians can be seriously casual, it's genetic I think), "oh, about this long, aye?" and then watching a size seven hundred forty two disembowodied cartoon foot fall squarly upon his head, therein replacing him in the image in my mind without actually showing any blood or guts or anything, but perhaps accompanied by the most wonderful squishing noise...

oh thank godliness, my madness has returned for a moment... and in, his moment of madness, he created the world and said, this is the most fucked-up place I've ever seen, let's catch a cab to the Andromeda galaxy and see if we can get it right there...

yes, that was an actual conversation, or half of a conversation, since it was held on the phone so only one side could be heard... we're still not sure just who He was calling, but seven hundred scholars and fifty-two monkeys will continue to work on the translation of the text for century after century until we get it to say exactly what we want it to say so we can push our agenda and be deemed clearly in the right and good column...

after all, we don't want Santa to skip our chimney...

if you want seriousness, try one of the previous entries... recently, I hear that there was an outbreak of it (seriousness) around here... here, I'll make it easy for you...

you noticed missing numbers, of course you did, you're no fools... the missing numbers are the following three entries now dedicated to deliverance (from evil, madness, dirty drawers, and many other things) and respectfully dubbed:

because they were meant to be kind of guest entries to pass along email from a friend who witnessed Mississippi first hand cuz he lives there... bless him and his family, in fact, do it yourself... read his words... then click to his site and leave a smile, a some love, a hug of support, and/or just say hi...

and besides, dammit, somehow we've got to get back to the vital business of enjoying life and finding silver linings without moth-eaten holes and spiritual highs and someday, if we're lucky, fun again for the abyss of depression is always lurking around the corner of every tragedy and I'll be damned, quite truly, if I fall into that sick joke of a way to be ever again...

speaking from close personal experience, I'd rather be homeless than depressed... there's more opportunity for laughter that way... does anybody remember laughter? (and we're buying a stairway to... anywhere but here)...

I just checked my email... a short one from Tim who, complete with chills that no wind can describe, had a similar thought (you know, the one in the last entry that I'm running from right now):

They are all out of the dome, out of the convention center, late albeit, but out. I don't know Ric, something's wrong. Are we seeing everything? I keep thinking they haven't showed a single picture or even mentioned the small communities around New Orleans. Are people dying as I type this tonight just because CNN hasn't shown a pan shot of them on their rooves?
Something is wrong, I feel it.
Sent via BlackBerry from Cingular Wireless

and I am picturing epitaths and tombstones, unmarked graves because if anyone actually carved the most truthful and just epitath into the stone it might read:

but wait, we need to get stupidly irreverent, we need to survive intact, as sane as possible, with some sense of hope for the future and desire to live, not to merely exist numb in robot shells... so let's picture someone sitting on their roof with a different sign... a sign that could have been, should have been, and still might be when we review our lives in heaven or wherever we might review the video of our lives someday... let the Monty Python irreverence of I'm not dead yet bubble up from the streets of New Orleans... let smoke signals come up from a hole in the roof of some building up to it's eaves in water and let them say:

. o O ( NOTES ARE THE NEW HAPPY PILL ) O o .
(just let me know you were here)