It must be time to post something again!
In other words, what's keeping me from posting more often?

I have no explanation for this phenomenon...(or the absence thereof)...Monday and Tuesday are jam nights for me. I go to bed late and sleep in. By the time I arise, in the afternoon, the jam session is only 4 or 5 hours away. After breakfast with my birds (I never said I was "Mr. Excitement"), a couple hours have already gone by. Before I eat, the birds get fed. Before my first cup of coffee, even. So basically the whole day is shot; part of it being shot in advance. Monday and Tuesday, basically being shot. Gone. Finito. Nada. Outta here! Etc. I had an appointment to get my car serviced today. I only made the appointment a week ago. And I FORGOT the appointment! Gosh. As far as the other days of the week, why don't I post more often? I could say that I'm "saving the space for other people on the internet", but somehow I just don't think that would ring true.

Getting up is just torture for me. It's never pretty. It's quite awful, in fact. I'm basically unconscious for the first couple hours of the day until I get it together. Hard to feed birds when I can't see straight. Birds have little sensory mechanisms built into their feet; they can sense the slightest vibrations. So when my feet first hit the floor, they yelp and chirp and squawk, and in my slumber-oriented state of mind, it sounds like the birds are hooked up to a stack of Marshall amplifiers (the kind Jimi Hendrix used)...I've changed my routine now. I no longer stumble out to the kitchen barefoot. I always have shoes on. You see, no matter how much I clean, I still step on birdseed that's hit the floor. Irritating. Seed between the toes. Not a pretty picture.

So the birds get fed. Then I flip on the Mr. Coffee machine, and then I fix a bowl of Raisin Bran. I'm eating that these days instead of cornflakes. Yes, my life is full of earth-shattering decisions. Dare to be different! Break the mold! So I did. A new cereal. Hey, if yer gonna live, live on the edge, I say. And, if I ever have a day when I can't quite wake up, and I wanna go back to sleep, all I have to do is flip on the computer and read this post. That oughta do it. I am a total kitchen idiot, by the way. For some reason, I almost crave "cup o'noodles" when dinnertime arrives. And, the cup o'noodles manufacturer does not list microwave oven instructions. The label says something to the effect of, "due to the various intensities of different microwave ovens, we cannot in good faith establish a mean cooking time for the product you are holding in your slimy little hands"...

Well, in my new-found spirit of living on the edge, I filled the cup o' uncooked and hard as nails noodles with water, plopped it down in the microwave, and set it for 2 minutes, 30 seconds. And, whaddaya know...it came out perfect! So I patted myself on the back for a job well done, and in no time, I became quite an old hand at microwaving cup o'noodles. Well, the kitchen is the one room in the house where anything can happen. One night, while cooking cup o'noodles, an interesting development occurred...about a minute and a half into microwaving cup o'noodles (no, the cup o'noodles company isn't paying me for writing this), smoke began to belch forth from within the bowels of the microwave oven. I have a unique microwave oven. It has bowels. So, I opened the door, and more smoke belched out. And within the vast cavernous confines of the microwave oven, lay a pile of twisted, burned noodles and charred styrofoam. Yep, I did it, all right...I forgot to put the WATER in the cup o'noodles before microwaving.

Writing about this event reminds me of a similar event, long ago. In the late '70s, I lived in Spokane, Washington, for a while. I was hard-boiling some eggs. I love 'em hard-boiled. Although, I try to avoid hard-boiled people, but that's another matter entirely. Afterwards, I went to work at the radio station I was employed at there. A couple hours into my shift, I got a phone call from my landlords. They called to tell me they had to break into my apartment and clean things up. I had forgotten to take the eggs out of the boiling water; indeed, I had left, totally forgetting that I was hard-boiling eggs. As my landlord described it, remnants of egg yolks and albumen had spewed out all over the walls of my kitchen in all directions. That was almost 30 years ago. I wish I had a video of that. I love things that explode.

If you recall my cup o'noodles incident, described above, one fact shines through the microwave oven smoke: I haven't gotten any smarter in the last three decades, have I? But I suppose the real question is, "why did my landlords bother to call me?" After all, what did they expect me to do...put on a long record, leave the radio station, go home and perform egg-matter extraction on my kitchen walls? Mind you, this was back in the day when there was such a thing as "LIVE" radio. No 24-hour satellite music networks back then. No CD's. No hard-drive containing music and commercials. News still came over on a teletype that used paper. The old teletypes would vibrate madly when cranking out a news story, virtually disassembling themselves. I once spent two hours one nite after signing off the station, reassembling the teletype. I did everything and it still wouldn't work. Finally, I looked down and saw a small little spring, about a quarter-inch in length. I put it where I thot it should go, and voila! The teletype sprung back to life! Which proved I was "living on the edge" way back then, only I didn't know it.

Hmmm. You know, in prior posts, I've tried to be timely. Spouting all sorts of views on the news and all of the developments...you know, the Walter Reed hospital scandal, which is fast turning into an expose of substandard VA hospitals all around the nation, and the unceasing ability of Prezzident George W. Bushed, who is going against public opinion, his own advisors and anyone or anything else that gets in his way; in fact, after the initial "troop surge" in Iraq, he's now sent some more forces to back up the troop surge which was meant to back up the troops that were already over there to begin with. Sheesh. So I kinda think I'd rather write about "just stuff", because the Prezzident, the War, and a lot of things that happen in this country just kinda make me wanna go back to bed and go to sleep. And if I can't get to sleep, I'll just re-read this post. Yeah, that oughta work.
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Well, I got back from the jam session late, and now I'm ending this post late, after which I'll go to sleep late, which means I'll get up late...another day shot to hell, what can I say...