In this case, the words in question being the ones in my head and the war being the battle for which ones get to make it out of my brain, through my fingers, and into the real world via this here bloggy type thing.

I don’t know how it happened, but somehow, between sitting down to write and actually putting words into my WordPress box, I went from “fairly sure I knew what was going to write today” to “head full of sparks and cannon balls and fizz”.

I blame the people on IRC for being such interesting and stimulating conversationalists.

So, instead of any of the relatively thought out ideas I had at some point in the last hours for articles or short stories, instead you get a regular old chatty blog entry about whatever the hell is lying around at the moment, like usual.

This is the equivalent to a parent declaring that if the kids can’t get along peacefully, then none of them get to go to the beach.

It is not necessarily right or even fair, but it gets the job done.

Why the hell am I craving Pirate cookies all of a sudden? Stupid childhood memories.

Well, let’s see what we’ve got in the Tickle Trunk today.

Here’s a pic Ebert posted that I absolutely love.

I dare you to imagine what the SECOND wittiest couple gets up to!

I love absolutely everything about that picture. The smiles on the faces of our lucky happy witty couple. The completely tastelessness of their little “joke”. The semi-submerged layer of atrocious racism, as if they are both saying “The joke is that it’s a white person being lynched! Ha ha ha ha ha, as if! We’re so nutty. ” The bad joke just hanging there in the air like a hanged man. “This is not how you get a well hung man, Betty! Ha ha ha!”. The depressing crappiness of the (I assume) basement they shot this picture in. I bet that is literally right outside the door of the school newspaper or the yearbook office, if they weren’t the same thing. And oh, those old-fashioned names!

It’s one of those rare images that manages to tell an entire sad but somehow charming story all at once. It implies so much more than it depicts. Talk about media density!

Oh crap. The local gang of kids was being even more rowdy and noisy than ever just five minutes ago, and I was speculating that school better happen to these kids soon, or they are going to go all Lord of the Flies out there.

But now there is naught but a deathly silence punctuated only by the occasional soft sound of small things creeping over grass.

Oh no…. I have waited too long. They have already gone feral. Right now, they are probably spit-roasting poor Piggy over a fire made from discarded mattresses they harvested from beside the dumpster while wearing crude garments made from the skins of the local raccoons and skunks and decorated with crow and seagull feathers.

Of course, there’s an outside chance that they just all went home because it’s dark out.

But me, I prefer to play the odds.

Let’s see. Oh, went to see a new therapist today, a Doctor Costin. Joe was nice enough to get up early to drive me to my 10 am appointment and then be there when I was done to drive me home. Luckily, the next appointment will be at 1 pm, much more compatible with his work schedule, which is 2:30 pm to 10:30 pm, Monday to Friday.

The session went great. He asked lots of questions about me, and got my vital statistics and personal info and whatnot. And he made demands of me, specifically to get my sleep into something approaching good shape and to start getting some exercise.

So far, breaking myself of the napping habit had not gone well, but I have only just started and bad habits are not broken with a simple decision to try. I sincerely don’t know what to do with myself if I don’t take names, which is a sad sad testament to how empty my life is.

I think I use sleep simply to fast-forward through life. As though I need it to pass any faster when my life is already half fucking over and I haven’t even DONE anything yet.

Exercise, meh. That’s going to be even harder than the sleep thing. I have been sedentary to the point of being practically sessile for so long that I don’t know any other life, and it’s hard to convince myself to move just for its own sake.

But I know it would help if I did. So I will work towards it. It’s always hardest at the start of personal change. It’s like trying to open a really heavy door. At first you push and push and it barely seems to be moving. But eventually, it opens.

So wish me luck on that. I am quite happy to have a therapist who challenges me. I need some sort of resistance and stimulation in my life. Some of the best things that ever happened to me have been because someone cared enough about me to confront me and kick me in the ass and make me snap the hell out of my inner fugue and deal with things.

I am far too good at tuning others in to my mellow, affable wavelength, when what I really need in the long term is some static.

Well, that’s enough jibba jibba for tonight, readerlings. Hopefully, tomorrow I will avoid overstimulation and be able to offer something a little more coherent.

Until then, tango chutney waffle cones.