LIFE

IN
BLACK
AND
WHITE



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

MEG AND DIA!

ORLANDO?

WHERE IT BEGAN


ARE THEY SERIOUS?
(how far are we from censorship?)

ONE. . . WHY
(find your social conscience)

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

Candoor: Blogmad? It's better than ever! Get more visitors (or find me in chat there). Register now and tell me for extra credits. VARB?


JOIN OR RE-REGISTER NOW

welcome blogmadians... and the rest of you, while still in beta, you can still join the latest greatest party on the web, blogmad!

SUPPORT BLOGMAD! BUY STUFF



o O ( ALTERNATIVE MEDICINE ) O o

CONVERSATION WITH GOD

MEANING OF LIFE
FORWARD THIS ENTRY
INTELLIGENT DESIGN

(SEE WHAT THE POPE SAYS)

o O ( AND COMING SOON! ) O o

ABOUT ZOOPLA

o O ( AND CURRENT EVENTS ) O o


blogadvance blogazoo
blogexplosion blogmad?
bloglines


o O ( SOCIAL CONCERNS ) O o

HELP THE RED CROSS
MESSAGES FROM MISSISSIPPI
BLOG FOR RELIEF
NEW ORLEANS JOURNAL

(MIRROR OF N.O. JOURNAL)
(INCLUDING LIVE CAM AND PHOTOS)

HELP AND BE HELPED
HURRICANE HOUSING
LINKS TO HELP
IMAGES FOR HISTORY
New Orleans News
Buloxi News
THE FAILURE


FREE SPEECH
(tell them what you think)

The White House
(202) 456-1111

Senate and Congress
(202) 224-3121

YOU'VE GOT THE RIGHTS
USE THEM





FAT MAN WALKING
BLOGATHON!
INDEX BEGIN
FACE FUN!



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
wil wheaton
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
comics
digg





REFERENCE LIBRARIES

questia
wikipedia
gutenberg
internet public library

itools references
movie database
Giga-Quotes
rare-lyrics
all musicals




AMUSEMENTS

Diaryland Times
home star runner
hell
hell too
sinfest
ill will press
the guide
purple
despair
maximum awesome
86 the onions
straight dope
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


2005-02-12 - 6:57 p.m.

Saturday so far


wow, it's the weekend and quiet as a mouse around here (except for you precious few who amaze me with your veracity and loyalty and tenacity, all of which, and you, mean so very much to me)... I know I was gone for most of the week, working an extra twenty or so hours and then getting lay down and die now sick couple of days (actually the amazing thing for me is that instead of letting work burn me out and the killer flu bug drag my dying carcass through the pits of despair that rise up from the bowels of the nether regions of what can only be a hell at this time of year for all lonely souls... I found kick ass inspirations flowing (rapidly, in fact, eight in a night the first night back after being in the death throes {remember, I am here, well, sometimes here for the dramatics... worries are a waste of time though, so fret not for if I was seriously in need of anything I'd be the first to be putting up big billboards and selling my body parts for commercial time on TV to let the world know... I am practical that way} of the bugs that landed Nursy {the nurse I work with most nights} in the hospital and almost everyone else at work, including the healthiest specimens {and there are several} sick enough to call in sick for a few days and Raspy hacking and taking cold medicines for weeks now and {that bug, remember?} finally got a hold of my lungs and tried to eat them from the inside out)... but I explained the pseudo-nyquil induced coma already, didn't I?...

the point is, a few glances at a few faces (and one dreamy blast from my most profoundly personalized deepest past and home town, no less) and words of wondrous imaginary love came falling out of my sleeping heart... and then, as if my natural preservation instinct kicked in, I laid myself bare and played with myself (and my imagination, nothing perverse, after all, there were minors present... as if I ever cared, except to resent the hell out of anyone who dared to even mention their fear-driven ageist prejudices, when I was one)... but what did influence the pause right around the time the seventh and eighth bursts of madness were uploaded still unfinished to the imaginary planet upon which my heart sleeps, and writes, hence it's literary description name, like the Earth is the big blue ball, or marble, to digress in explaining the analogy, was Raspy wanting to go out to eat and him having no vehicle and me being the brotherly keeper I can be, instead of continuing to bask in the glorious splendiforous feelings that were inspired by letting my heart wake to dream again and ramble on in words (oh?) with sincere reverence and irreverent laughter (almost simultaneously at times), or much more wisely (but less creatively) just heading to bed which any sensible human being who had awakened from the pure oblivion (not even the harveys banging on the walls with their massive jackhammers could wake me) flu-drug induced coma-thing some twenty four hours previously, I gathered my wits and spit out the bit that the writer binds me (lovingly) to in moments of solitary passion and we woke Precious and headed out to eat...

we went where they wanted to go, even though I figured it would be closed... it was, so we compromised on where we didn't want to go, except thirty minutes further away than we had to be... of course I drove, Raspy was tired... he had worked earlier and had no lustful adrenaline rushes surging through his veins like concentrated mescalated LSD laced with pure speed... oh, the streamers on the road, they were wild last night...

and I ate a normal breakfast, though I am not a fan of the normal USA breakfast, and a lousy (cold) one at that... eggs benedict are not supposed to be served cold, nor is french toast, right?... alas, too tired and giddy with the delight of my lyrical lovemaking and ramblings, I consumed the chow and drove home forgetting that the primary purpose for my wanting to leave the confines of the big green chair (besides changing out of the third sweat soaked sweat suit I had soaked through thoroughly in three days or less) was to pick up the proper (as in safe to take) medication for my suicidal cough, should it decide to reinstate itself in these tired lungs... luckily, it is being held off by sheer will as I have not medicated or slept since returning home some nine hours ago (and being up and awake and wildly engaging my imagination to koo koo chee koo those prolific twenty four... and the aforementioned eight sleepwriting bits were not all that poured out... a few entries for this place and a few rhymes for other places also flowed on my emotional roller coaster of love, not to mention much time spent browsing aimlessly and leaving notes and imagining and remembering and being in love)...

as another matter of fact (cuz I think there was at least one here already), with a profoundly noble and generous and loving gesture of sheer physical extravagance (or perhaps just another example of my masochistic savious-syndrom tendencies), I talked us into driving out yet again to get Precious a table for her new computer which arrived this week (I hope I mentioned it) because it would have tortured me to see it half out of it's box with nowhere to set it up and besides, now she'll talk on the phone and browse the web much more in her room than in the living room while I'm rambling on or lusting with my heart or doing other presidential or ignoble or ridiculous things like maybe even watching a DVD or TV show or, hark, listening to a CD... music?... ah, sweet nectare of my youth...

and it's fountain...

so we bought a folding table (in lieu of a desk, which will wait until Raspy has a vehicle and the fundage) and I remembered to obtain the appropriate medications just in case I happen to relapse and I called the DSL provider and downloaded the right driver for the new computer and just when I was supposed to be heading to sweet soft bed (which is what the wise and wonderful wizard of Rasputinland did... and I mean that most sincerely), I found myself growing more excited (and awake all again over... don't sound it, huh?) with the prospect of seeing Precious not just tinker with her new toy, but actually get online and start on her way to mastering it...

everything basic installed, then the driver for the DSL software and hardware, then it connected to the net and the beautiful Dell 4700C is up and running smooth as a baby's bottom... Precious is precious... and she has Kazaa...

I know, I am evil...

never mind if you don't get the joke... if it was a joke... or whatever might have come of it, let's not make any further mention of it, no less any sort of fuss, lest Scotland Yard or the Mounties get a hold of the details and send a team of angry polar bears (or ninety nine red balloons) after us (everybody mumble semi-coherently pretending to be making profound statements and understanding each other at the same time) with tiny finger sized whips to humiliate us into conformity, compliance, or at least make a dent, errr, career in some fine ladies lingerie...

so Precious is in cyber heaven with her Josh Groban and here we are... Raspy sleeps... and as if on cue, she summons me to her new favorite place in the house, her room (wow, huh?... I mean, for the first time since we've got her here... it's good) to show me more Grobanite finds and ask more quastions about the details of graphics program tricks (uber basic, there's virtually nothing but the most basic Windows media that comes with XP Home Edition on the computer) and to hope for a successful find of the song My December (the Groban version, not the Linkin Park original), which she's been attempting to do for months... alas, another poor quality file, but then, there's another know it?... to try again... hope springs eternal in Grobansville... or is it Grobansvania... actually, I was corrected... it's Grobania... where Groban maniacs, and ites live...

and so another day twinkles into twilight and another entry calls to be heard here at casa de candoor... perhaps a bit wordier than most, but then, if that's not what you come here for, well, you could fool me cuz that's sure what I aim to provide (and sometimes, alas, even when I don't aim)... I shall look at the scribbling of the night of flu-drug coma and see if there was an entry meant to be and then check the other ramblings I did while uploading my heart 'n giggles over at you-know-where to you-know-who and another breath or few and see if there were actually a couple of entries meant to be for yesterday and the day before and then, this one shall appear in it's rightful place... today...

and how was your Saturday so far?...






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




see me - - - feel me - - - touch me - - - heal me


< last one < < < < BURP! > > > >next one >




.

.

.

.

.

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?...

. . .

connections

.

.

.

.

AND WHATDYA MISS?
Laughing Lament
stranger brews
once upon a diaryland
babbling through computer concerns
stunningly missing
older still


random chance

who me?

leave a note?
(read archived notes)

send me mail?

you want to know me?
soundtrack
101 Things
The Sequel
The Trilogy
202 Things
200 Things
202 More Things
202 Things Again
testing123
have time, love words?
sleepwriting
(where the heart dreams)

and now, in RealTime�

DO ME!
(Johari Style)


DO ME WRONG!
(but do me right)


SOAP!

(EPISODE ONE)
(the dark side of candoor)


loving linkers
other loves

A Diaryland Survey
other surveys
small world
your profile matters
(search for you & find me)


tell others
read others
applause?
favor?
gift?

get your own!

saturn rings and other places
googlisms
browsing
where've ya been?
the searchers

favorites

911
HEY AMERICA!
LOOK AT YOUR CHILD
STOP THE ABUSE

(GET THE CODE)

THOUGHTS ON GOD

( temporary attractions )


BACK TO #1 @ GOOGLE!

WAS #1 @ MSN!
(for a while, now on page 3 5)




(EXPERIMENTAL PLAYTHINGS)
RSS?



who links here
blogwise
Blogarama
Globe of Blogs
blogthings

~ BLOGLINKERS ~




~ BLOGROLLING ~
(Blogroll RSS)


Blogroll Me!

published
blogadvance
blogazoo
blogexplosion
blogmad?
bloglines



(PREVIOUS TEMPORARY ATTRACTIONS)
TSUNAMI INFO
fantasy sports?
BLOGGIES?
sorry everybody
Orange Blossom Music Festival

Deland Music Festival
MIT Survey

brilliant idea
Celebrate Birthdays
FOR FREEDOM



CONTINUE...
talking dog






SAY HELLO
407-325-1482





and if you want to leave
take good care
hope you make a lot
of true friends out there