LIFE

IN
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AND
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last---past---next---now
( FEATURED OTHERS 'n STUFF )

MEG AND DIA!

ORLANDO?

WHERE IT BEGAN


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ONE. . . WHY
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Barbara Waters: so candoor, what all this fuss about blogmad?

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o O ( ALTERNATIVE MEDICINE ) O o

CONVERSATION WITH GOD

MEANING OF LIFE
FORWARD THIS ENTRY
INTELLIGENT DESIGN

(SEE WHAT THE POPE SAYS)

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ABOUT ZOOPLA

o O ( AND CURRENT EVENTS ) O o


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last---past---next---now



SITES I SEE A LOT
IxQuick Search
Google Search
itools references
movie database

Giga-Quotes

Harry Chapin Lyrics
SSA




OLD AND NEW READS
(WISH I HAD MORE TIME
TO READ and EXPLORE)

mother jones
utne reader
common dreams
the progressive
mediate
the other side
orion
harper's
rolling stone
reel classics


fallout shelter
the memory hole
song meanings
truth out
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bugmenot
global news matrix
break for news
are you generic?
neil gaiman
h2g2
daily kos
the truth laid bear
reason
capitol hill blue
boing boing
nobody here




SITES I AM CONSIDERING
SEEING MORE OFTEN

3Hive
metafilter
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REFERENCE LIBRARIES

questia
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all musicals




AMUSEMENTS

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hell too
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ill will press
the guide
purple
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maximum awesome
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something awful
glossy news
eric conveys emotion
odd todd
cracked



CULTURE

the superficial
darwin awards
this is true
urban legends
news of the weird
church of the fsm
the onion
god checker
faqs
fark
iGod
post secret
webby awards
meetup
the white house
ragged trousered philosopher
the smoking gun
the defective yeti
landover baptist
evil bible


COMMERCIAL CRAP (AND PRON)

(Note: pron is porn worth a look for amusement much more than passion, so if you see a (p) next to a link, be aware naked people may appear if you click it, m'ok?)

beautiful agony (p)
(a turn on or a laugh?)
real doll (p)
(the ultimate self-indulgence)

(or it could just be a typo)




PROMPTS
(IF YOU KNOW ONE LET ME KNOW)


Unconscious Mutterings
Friday Feast
Wednesday Whatevers
Sunday Brunch
Monday Madness
Thursday Threesom
Saturday Questions




(make it real)

PO BOX 780398
Orlando, FL 32878

send me some music
your favorite music
old or new
blissful or blue
let your message come through
and I will love you forever



last---past---next---now
�2006 Candor Communications


2017-03-30 - 12:43 a.m.

Just a Moment (Proof of Mice)


No really, it is quite ridiculous of me to start writing this entry because there is almost no chance of enough time to truly get into babble mode as life presents much ado about ado and so much to do that I've forgotten what babbling was like (say it ain't so!... yes, an actual exclamation point!... and another !!... two!!!... omg!!!!... this could be exciting if we ever find out what is going on).

Ummmm, say it ain't so... the babbling. I still babble, tell me I still babble. Look!... isn't that babble?... something like it? Maybe I've matured or something (. . . . we are waiting . . . waiting until I return to consciousness . . . I think I fainted). Come on, there is no such thing as being a mature babbler (wait, does that mean I no longer babble?... I seem to be painting myself into a corner... how do they get out of this in cartoons?... gawk! gasp! oh no, I must be getting senile if I don't remember my cartoon escape skills... somebody stop me).

Hopefully that dangerous path of imagining a world in which I actually mature and stop babbling and forget my cartoon skills was just a test of the emergency insanity defense system. In the even of a real emergency (and I need a foolproof defense), I will suddenly lose my mind and become a mature vegetable, accepting a nice padded room in lieu of a cell with bars and dangerous criminals. It's always been my contingency plan if I fail at passing as a human.

I found proof of mice tonight. It is a specific kind of proof of life in which the life form of the mouse variety is confirmed as existing in a space that contains stuff that I do not want mice to play with. I turned into a mixed up form of Jinx, Sylvester, and Tom with sprinkle of Pink, Snagglepuss, and Tigger (I was not nearly as smart as Top, Felix, or the one in the Hat... or even Garfield) (if you still have no clue, look them up and those are not my rankings, m'ok). I hope I didn't kill any of the little Pixies and Dixies, but they just are not going to have my cooperation any more in their unplanned attacks on my storage unit. I know, my mistake putting food in there, but the food was in these sealed plastic storage containers. They ate right through the plastic. Hungry little buggers.

Oatmeal flakes were their favorite.

I removed two boxes they gnawed into and salvaged the canned goods. The oatmeal was in another sealed storage contained within the sealed plastic storage container and they got in and chowed down. I think there may be more in other boxes so I must find time in the daylight to get back there and sort through some more boxes as soon as possible. So uch to do, so little time.

The so little time part of this equation is a very good thing because I am working two jobs now. One regular full time job with great benefits and all the joys and madness of government work (I'm the County Safety Officer now, whatever that means... no really, I had to look it up and found so many different answers (not to mention salaries... I obviously need to move to a richer county sigh lol) but what surprised me most was that they hired me lol... I'm about ten times more experienced than my boss is at his job... he's a great boss so far though).

The other job is marketing and database management and I do believe I was finally replaced just yesterday (I was helping a friend until he could hire somebody) leving me little time for me, but all the blessings of income.

Yes, income. It makes life so much easier on most levels. Not on every level, mind you. There's a lot to be sad for the life of the hobo. Not completely stressless, but so much more manageable stress outside of the corporate or government madhouses we call normal working conditions in our thoroughly modern society. Millie would be shocked.

If only someone got every reference and shot it back at me with clever quips and wide eyed stares, we'd get along so wonderfully we're have to move in together. I am looking for a roommate, by the way. If you are crazy like me and want to live in Lake Mary Florida, or even certain parts of Sanford, Florida, feel free to apply yourself. I am known for my flexibility in getting along with complete strangers and only want total control over my bedroom and bathroom. Everything else is a compromise and I have been known to be quite the chameleon. Kind, generous, sensitive, considerate, nurturing, respectful, clean, friendly, easy babbler seeks compatible roommate. We don't have to be friends, but that would be a great benefit. We don't have to share benefits, but (I think I am scaring everyone away... maybe I should start again in a more local forum where a potential actual roommate might be found).

So for the past few weeks my time has been occupied.

Sunday wake early and stay at the softball fields all day because I am on the ratings committee and must watch as many layers as I can in the first five weeks in order to give them a far and accurate rating (and I play my games). After the long day in the hot sun, I find food and usually check on storage place if I am not out with the softball players somewhere.

Monday is not a work day again and my work days start with the sunrise and continue throughout the day until after 5pm. Monday evenings is softball again and depending on the game time, I get back home between 8:30 and 11pm.

Tuesday is another work day (see previous paragraph) and after that I drive about 30-40 minutes to play cards until after midnight (though this week we ended about 10:30 and out goal is to end no later than that from now on). Still, not home until after midnight as I stopped at the storage place (where I found proof of mice).

Wednesday, work day, and tonight I drove more than an hour to sit with the softball ratings committee and discuss our findings and our plans going into the final ratings week (who to watch, what ratings to change... and why). I stopped at the storage place again, this time while the sun was still out, and found more proof of mice. Arriving home after 10pm, I stumbled in here quite by surprise and here we are, babbling more than I thought I would.

So I just asked myself how I got here and I discovered that I had forgotten so I backtracked and found that I clicked on the link in Dangerspouse (who deserves so much more than a giraffe's ass) once again to contemplate using the inspiration he provided days ago that apparently has been stored somewhere inside (thank you Mr. Spouse... and anyone complaining about this entry can blame him).

Then I was struck (metaphorically and emotionally) really really hard by the realization that time passes because I read his profile page (ever seeking the ego stroke of being mentioned in the blog list o a famous diarylander like him) and found hissandtell is no more. I want to make references to a dead parrot to lighten the mood, but I am so sad they whole of Monty Python's Flying Circus would shed tears at how much of a failure they are if they tried to undo the blow of loss... only I can do that and in tribute to a favorite dear diaryland friend I force myself to find irreverence and lunacy and laugh - yes laugh - even if it the laughter of the madman denying mortality and believing she is still right here alive and well hissing and telling in my head.

And she is.

That is the wonder and beauty and magic of sharing ourselves online like this. We live on after we actually die in the minds of those who read us and used imagination and sensitivity and actual sharing of knowledge through these words to bring a complete stranger who lives far away, a person we might never see or touch in the physical reality, to life in our heads. I am blessed to have her memory alive in mine.

Long Live Hissandtell.

Please excuse the seriousness of the previous paragraphs... she certainly deserves more and it might be quite fitting to stop this entry right there with the line above this paragraph but in her honor (cuz I really think she would want it this way), I shall continue babbling about whatever pops up next in the synapses and see how that plays out.

Drumroll?

I have extra cheesy Cheetohs. There are others, scanning down Dangerspouse's profile (and reminiscing about how this all started as some sort of ethereal pissing contest and test of literacy and re-enjoying the current fare, but the Cheetoh's win. Food is the next best thing to sex for the mouth as far as consoling the grief and distracting from the seriousness. Ask any obese person. Or anyone with an oral fixation. Hey, I still don't believe those big people who told me they lost my pacifier on the way to the car when I was three years old.

Pass the Cheetoh's.

I found them at this dollar store where everything is actually one dollar. Such a shocking refreshing surprise. Most dollar stores I've been in charge multiples of a dollar for various items, but not this one, everything is a dollar. This bag of extra cheesy Cheetoh's would certainly be two dollars anywhere else. The bag contains 5.5 ounces of extra cheesy crunchy Cheetoh's. If only someone was here stuffing them in my mouth as I type... sigh... I might even finish the bag. They are sitting right over there taunting me. I shouldn't finish the bag though, it is approaching midnight and I am on a diet. Seriously, I skipped dinner because I pigged out at a local Chinese buffet for lunch. All-you-can-eat diet.

Please do not allow small children to read the last paragraph and by all means, don't read that last paragraph to impressionable youngsters. Just in case it was in the least bit amusing, I would not want to contribute to the obesity epidemic threatening to sink our country into the ocean. I know, they tell you t's global warming and the sea levels are rising. That's because they don't want you to stop eating yourself to debt Good old American Greed. Now that's the art of the deal.

So perhaps there is some hope for the babbler after all. And for me, at that. If I had time I would scan my buddy list and my profile and my other profiles (you know I once had a dozen or so diaries here, don'tcha?... and then some lol). Perhaps it was just a moment for remembering and perhaps it was just a momentum that keeps us going. What a difference an um makes, aye?

Ummmm, so how are you already?

Email: candoor at gmail dot com

Just in case you wondered how to tell me.

Sure, you can leave a note. I might find it and connect it to this entry. Or the note may have no direct connection to this entry other than this entry being what brought you back here to leave the note. We can wish each other well (I wish you well... your turn) and we can move on until the next random moment our paths cross or we could fall in love and live happily ever after... or we could find some happy medium in between. All because you left a note. Or sent an email. Isn't life strange? (thank you to the Moody Blues and all ships at sea).

More Cheetoh's.

I am hiding them from my new roommate. He is on a real diet, the kind that has a goal of weight loss. He is raising money for a charity and says it's gonna be something like fifty thousand dollars. I volunteered to be his charity. He laughed. I volunteered to be his treasurer. He laughed some more. He either has a great sense of humor or he just doesn't take me seriously.

I won't be here long though. I am renting a room in his house until I find a bigger place I can move my stuff into so I can stop finding proof of mice at the storage place. See, it all ties together. Perhaps I should have titled this entry (Proof of Mice).

Just a moment.

There, that's better (do you know what I just did?... use your imagination, you can figure it out if you really want to... hint: read the last two sentences prior to this paragraph... or you can ask if you are more inquisitive than you are into word puzzles).

The Cheetoh's are almost gone (I've taken to pouring them into my mouth now that all the biggest ones have been eaten so I can keep the extra cheesy powder off my fingers and shirt and I could continue writing with minimal interruption) and that may be my queue to mozy on into the sleeping position.

No, I am not going to somehow squeeze Cheetoh's into the title. Actually, I just looked at the bag. They are Cheese Doodles, not Cheetoh's. With apologies to the manufacturers (and my hand out to the folk who make Cheetoh's for all the free plugs). Just ask this guy. Imagine my embarrassment to have been making the same mistake all through this running joke. No wonder it was running.

Groan, I know. I mean, spelling it wrong the whole way is kind of expected from the literary scholar writing all this, but to mis-brand the food and fool the consumer this way, well, that is simply ludicrous. Keep the home fires burning, we are redirected, easily amused, and quite distracted now.

So the bag is almost empty and so am I.

I leave one Doodle in the bag for dear Hissy and send these words into cyberspace for you.

Narf! :)






. o O ( NOTES ARE THE NEW HAPPY PILL ) O o .
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the moment

we interrupt these seemingly mindless dots for a word from (or at least about our sponsor (hmmm, sponsor?... what's the opposite of sponsor?)... anyway, now, as ado-less as possible, the word for you or andrew)...

you know that box to the right on the dland entry page called recent public entries?... what do the asterisks mean?... and the bold?...

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AND WHATDYA MISS?
Can You Laugh At The Sky?
DSandDrew
It's Been A While
Just a Moment (Proof of Mice)
A Moment of Forever
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