do people around you keep losing things and borrowing yours?... what is it with that, anyway?... first Precious left the charger for her cell phone a few hundred miles away when she was visiting friends and so she and Raspy have been using my charger for months now... and then with Precious gone for the summer (and her keys and cellphone here for safekeeping), when Raspy's mom left a few weeks ago she took Precious's cell phone (which I still pay for, by the way... and since she doesn't have a charger the phone is dead and hopefully it will take a charge when Precious gets it back) and keys (which include's Raspy's mailbox key so now he's constantly borrowing my keys to check the mail and I have to go looking for where he left my keys which is rather annoying when I am running out the door for work and realize I will be late because I have to locate my keys in order to drive to work... one of these night's he's gonna find his car gone cuz I decided he can look for my keys and take my car to work... I know, I am evil)... anyway, sheesh, what's up with that?...

at least the place is cleaner lately... that is worth virtually any inconcenience... or do I compromise too much?... oh what's the point of this line of thought, anyway... evaluating anything is rather moot when there is only one choice on the table, so until there are alternative choices for living arrangents in the physical space (I mean, besides all the infinite possibilities I might think of), I am comfortable, if not completely satisfied, with life in my current living spaces (all that's missing is a loving partner and mate, or at least a beautiful love slave)... seriously (if I must), it's luxury compared to most of the world (and if I didn't know how the 1% live, ignorance might be bliss, but then, my imagination would still reach for the next level and who really knows what I am talking about anyway, I mean, how many billionaires {or -airesses} read this?)...

and can you laugh at anything too?...

I was thinking about the way people describe each other, especially when being brief, like in introductions or on favorites lists, like trying to break a person down to ten or five words or less... this thought came about while laughing at the previous thoughts in this particular entry and if you know what I was or am talking about (feel free to tell me) and I started reading through my linkers (cuz eventually I will update my page for you) and I was intrigued by the succinctness of the comments... some were wonderfully flattering (gush)...

anyway, the one that came to mind as I was looking around the living space was big heart, small wallet... actually, I threw away my wallet a while back because it got too big, but that might be as ridiculous or confusing or alien (am I watching Roswell at the moment or what... I love the theme song too much, by the way, but that's just another teenage fantasy, right?) a thought to some as that might be, it's really not something to laugh at for most people who are in debt or victims of money-traps or slaves of the material world or even people who want to be... house, family, kids, stuff... human life may be cheap in many ways, but it is quite expensive to maintain the status quo in the western world... in the end, I played life the way I played Monopoly, bought a lit, sold a lot, won and lost a lot, gave away a lot, and ultimately turned in my dice and walked away from the game board... I know that is rather unsatisfactory to a lot of people (as I've been told often after playful flirtations turn into more serious questions in the getting-to-know-you games), but c'est la vie and all that jazz... I suppose I disappointed a lot of people when I said, I'm no longer buying...

but laugh, clown, laugh (are you a toon too?)...

anyway, speaking of unsatisfying news (were we really?), SPAM is annoying and has reached 1000 emails a day at my website address (I mean the domain itself, damned SPAMbots just keep sending junk mail to *anyuser* at the domain name and it takes hours for the mail to get sorted through, which means most people trying to reach me will find the mail there bouncing more often than not... the internet would be a wonderful means of communication and meeting others if not for SPAM... so here's the deal... if you write to me at any address and you don't get a response after a month or so, I probably did not get the email... so if you really want to reach out to me and let me know you are out there and maybe share a little (or a lot) more then call me or write snail mail... yes, you can reach right into my living spaces by pressing these buttons on your telephone: 407-325-1482 or by putting words on to paper and addressing an envelope to: Candoor PO Box 780398 Orlando, FL 32878 (don't forget the stamp)... I mean, if you can stand the diminished socio-economic status and all... and stalkers are only welcome if you bring a cute friend...

or a lot of money...

ah, the threads of thoughts that wind around the rambling thoughts that pour out of the hollow spaces between my ears never cease to bring me hours of irrational enjoyment... and I really do not mean any harm (and I didn't set out to mock the wealthy or poor or any sort of monetary measure... after all, you remember Thumbelina, don'tcha?)...

so I look around this living space at the piles of library CDs and semi-worn furniture and bare white walls and I miss the colors and pictures and library of books and music and magazines and all sorts of stimulating stuff and I wonder if I miss that big bulky wallet as well and that's when I laugh at the wonder because the answer is so obvious... no way, jose, hey zeus, hey abbott...

siwwy wabbit...

so maybe an aging rock star playing an aging Garbo (alone, who wants to be alone?) who lost the will to sing over a broken heart and gave it all away for a cause that failed or betrayed or was just dust in the wind... so maybe a dot com king playing with monopoly money bought the farm after the horses left the barn and dove head first into the ol' watering hole only to find the well had gone dry... ouch, that'll leave a mark... so maybe the three piece suit got too stuffy and the tie got too tight and he hung himself out to dry one night and never returned (no he never returned... ah sweet Monty, what thrills your python now?) but it's a tale of fires unburned... and the famous chef on TV says it's still not soup yet and we all go "awwwww as an intellectual expression of our abject boredom...

all in all, it's a good living space, even if it's on the shallow side, and there's plenty of room for growth... and one day all that wonderful stuff in storage will be poured into somewhere called home and we'll have fun fun fun even if the T-Bird went away...

at least I still have my Wacko figurine...

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