Wildlife at Sunset

 

Just a slight departure from my gibberish.

In the News

 

Rumors that a pirate slipped into town under the cover of darkness surfaced again this week when his ship was discovered along the edge of Black Bay.

Local shopkeepers have been alerted to watch for any increase in eye-patch sales, or sales involving a single shoe.

 

 

 zc

 

The Pain of Dying

 

I believe the difficulty of passing from this life to the next is due to the same system that prevents us from going the wrong way.  Severe soul damage may occur. 

 

 

 

Open to the Public

 

I expect that when I run out of coffee, I’ll no longer linger selecting just the right word to put next, or which subject I should address.  Not that coffee is my primary motivation, but it is an important tooth on the gear of creation.   

I’m sure there is an entire selection process in choosing which coffee bean goes into the blend.  I know I use only filtered water and no more than a teaspoon of sugar.  Each cup tastes the same as the last.  My subconscious expects it.  Just as my sentence structure requires a proper feel, so it blends into the paragraph, absent of difficult to pronounce words or unfamiliar phrases.  Reading without potholes has always been my goal. 

You, of course, see only the finished product.  You never hear the gears turning or smell the machine oil.  You get to stay behind the rope, wearing your hard hat and safety glasses, out of harm’s way.  Never getting hit by a run-on sentence or tripping over a dangling participle. 

As long as I’m here, there will never be a charge for admission.  The only advertising you might run across will be done without raising the volume to grab your attention, and never any pop-ups.  They are infrequent and tastefully done, by yours truly. 

There are two large boxes at the exit.  Please deposit your safety glasses and hard hat when you leave.  Should you leave a comment, feel free to say what you like.  No salesman will call, and we do not sell your information.

 

 Thank you

 

zc

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Survival 101

 

Should you discover my heart along the trail, please stop long enough to say, “Hi”.  I left it behind as when I was there, I fell in love with the view, the mountain air and the crisp morning breeze.  I never wanted to leave.  If with you, you have your guitar, feel free to strum along with the woodland tunes.  The forest creatures will surely enjoy it. 

Here’s the thing, I wasn’t in the mountains, there was no spectacular view and the air I was breathing was pumped in from the furnace.  I just find that one of the joys of being human is our ability to imagine.  It is the primary attribute allowing us to survive the shenanigans of our government.

 

 

 

 

 

zc (2 cents worth)

 

 

Now How Appropriate is that?

 

    

    I have seen Tooth Art in a dentist’s office.  I’ve witnessed foot art at a podiatrist’s office, but this was one for the books.  In Washington D.C., in a bar frequented by politicians hangs this image of a pain in the neck.

 

 

zc

 

The Frustration of Nelson Bird

The problem began back at the beginning, which is to say, it all started at the issue table.  Nelson Bird was scheduled to receive the standard brain, as assigned to every bird in the system.  What actually happened is still debated to this day, but the end activity resulted in Nelson being issued a human brain.  Not only that, but an above average one.

The odd part was the brain itself was no bigger than the brain he should have been issued, but Nelson’s cognitive abilities far surpassed that of most humans.  Almost instantly, he was good at deductive reasoning, analyzing situations and almost knowing what was going to happen before it did. 

Of course, the part that was throwing Nelson a curve was, he understood he was a bird and shouldn’t have such abilities.  He had no idea why he understood the things he did.  This caused him to not fit in with either group.  He was not a normal bird, and neither was he human.  His inability to communicate with either species caused him great frustration and loneliness. 

After considering his options, he figured he had greater chances of having a person understand him than a bird, so he flew off in the direction of downtown.  While there he could also check out his reflection in a window, as he’d not yet seen himself.  There was more to the flying thing than he had thought.  Being up so high didn’t bother him at all, but there were many more bugs than he ever thought there would be.  Some would even sting when he flew into them, not that he did that on purpose.  He was still getting used to this whole vision during flight thing.  Stuff came upon you quickly when zipping through the air. 

As Nelson glided down towards a State Farm Insurance building he suddenly questioned if it was a new – unused brain he had received.  He realized he knew way too much for it to be brand new.  He already knew things, which would explain his little bouts of ESP.  He wasn’t psychic, he had lived something like this before. 

But whose brain had he gotten?  He’d never heard of anyone filling out a brain-doner card before.  Maybe he was delicious, running a fever or something.  How would he know if he wasn’t right in the head.  So far, none of the morning had made any sense. A bird receiving a human brain?  Just a bit silly, wasn’t it.

As he landed on the roof of one of the cars in the parking lot he closed his eyes.  He would just sit there for a minute and try to think this thing through.  With his eyes closed, he could hear people talking.  Maybe someone was walking through the parking lot.  Maybe they were headed out to lunch.

 What time is it, anyway? He wondered. Then the voice he heard was getting closer.  “It’s time to wake up Nelson.”

Someone was patting the back of his hand.  “Nelson, time to wake up.”  Nelson opened his eyes and saw a nurse looking down at him.  “The surgery went fine.  We’re going to have you sit up for a little bit.  Can you sit up for me?” 

Nelson felt groggy and kept fluttering his eyes trying to focus.  “Do you work for State Farm?”  

“No, I’m Betty.  Remember?  I’m your nurse.”

Nelson looked down at his hand.  He was glad to see he was human.  There was an IV attached, with lines leading up to a bag of fluid.  “Did I have surgery, or something?” 

“You gave us all quite a scare, Mr. Bird.  And yes, your surgery went just fine.  The doctor will be in to talk with you in a few minutes.” 

“Why did I have surgery?  What happened to me?”

“Apparently, two days ago when you crossed the street in front of the State Farm building, you were hit by a car.” 

“And there was a brain doner?”

“A what?  Did you say brain doner?  No Nelson, there was no brain doner.”

 

 

 

The End