Well, I think I may be ready to get this thing rolling again around the five cent stand blog. I'm not sure if anyone is still out there, but I've been silent for long enough and now I feel like I have a thing or two to say to the world. All eleven of you. I realize that saying anything these days is the equivalent of just biting my big, cyber fluffy mickey-mouse pillow (who am I kidding it's a cyber-Minnie Mouse pillow) but what the heck. Might as well bite and rave at the close of day in my old age.
I'm not sure why blogger isn't giving me separate paragraphs though. That's pretty annoying. But hopefully you'll stick with me until I
never ever ever decide to contact blogging customer service and get them to fix it. Last time I tried something like that I almost started hallucinating from the on-hold music.
Let's see. What's been ticking me off lately... Isn't that why anyone blogs? Even the cheesy mom blogs and cooking blogs. (Sorry cheesy moms. I love you. And I read your blogs and cry my eyes out every time you post some story about night-night time with your kids and Jesus. "Cheesy" is word I use to hide my inner-princess and thereby let all my dude-bro-friends/call-of-duty-commando-unit-partners know that I'm seriously macho. But the truth is that I like to cook. Well, I like to watch cooking shows and imagine that I'm on the show and that I win the cash at the end. And my grilled cheese sandwich is of a legendary status - Seriously. I cold be knighted over my grilled cheese skills. Maybe even model for one of those romance novel covers, holding my grilled cheese sandwich in one hand and riding a white stallion in other. And I sew a little, too -- Whenever my buttons start to pop from sudden weight-gain and bending over to pick up a toy and making an indention in the hardwood floor from the speed of the button. I also watch Downton Abbey and make an occasional flower arrangement for my wife, at midnight on Valentines day.) But isn't that the reason why people blog? They are ticked off about something? Even the mom blogs. They are probably ticked off at themselves and are trying to talk themselves off the internal ledge of self-doubt office building but they really just want to burn all their how-to-be-a-mom-and-not-kill-your-baby books that constantly make them feel like they have been born with NO SKILLS as a mother. Or even the cooking blogs. Aren't these people just pissed off about bad food and they are trying to do something about it? I mean, that frontier mom blog is about as angry as it gets. I get angry just thinking about all the food she makes that I can never eat. And I can just see it in her face when it comes out of her oven, "too bad you stupid person who can't even boil a green bean who will never get to eat anything as delicious as this dish that I'm about to feed to my thirteen kids and eleven neighbors- eleven neighbors that traveled twelve days without eating to get here since I live out where the buffalo roam -- Or used to roam until my ancestors killed all the Indians and slaughtered their main food source: THE BUFFALO. And I bet you didn't know that's why buffalo wings are really chicken wings, did you?"
What am I mad about lately? I'm mad about Brant Hansen. That's who. He totally never reads my blog anymore now that he's bigtime famous and can finally benchpress 127 pounds and doesn't need me as a role model. Why should someone like that care that I've started blogging again? He's out saving the world and finding ways to cure kids of terrible diseases. But seriously, he is. If you don't know about Cure International you should. It's one of the things that gives me hope for Christianity actually doing something to alleviate the suffering in the world instead of just sitting around, getting richer and praising god for hitting the jackpot. Don't get me wrong, I like to praise God when I hit the jackpot, too. CURE is just a good place to dump your jackpot-- since Jesus said it's easier for a rich man to squeeze through the eye of a needle than to enter into the Kingdom of heaven. Translation: You can't really wear money-underwear when you get to heaven and if you try it will just burn off on your way to hell and that will just be embarrassing for everyone up there so might as well give as much of it as you can away while you are down here. So there's that.
So that'll just about do it for the day. Hope you all are well and still thinking happy thoughts. If you aren't, well, that's just stupid. You just need to think about something that you have that other people do not have. I find that the quickest way to happiness is comparison. For example: "Hey, I'm depressed today. But at least I don't have that dude's belly. He is seriously fat and probably wishes he wasn't. I'm not nearly that fat." Bam. It's like shooting yourself with a good-mood-anator gun. You're welcome. Wrap that pearl of wisdom around your neck and rub it for good luck when you fill out your lottery tickets.
But seriously. Be thankful, if you are reading this, I guarantee that there is something to be thankful for. Thankfulness is more than anything a discipline and surrendering the right to not be thankful. Not a sound effect and involuntary victory dance for winning the the best seat at the IMAX or for seeing a check in that Christmas card. Not knocking those two things. I'm not Gnostic. I'm just saying that I'm a better Christian than you when I actually get the good IMAX seat because I know that Jesus loves the people in awesome seats just as much as the ones in the crappy, headache epileptic seizure-inducing seats. Though it may feel like he loves us lucky suckers who got the middle seats a little more. But we can talk about that next time I dial in. I've got a movie to watch and this popcorn isn't going to eat itself.