Archive for the Why I fly? Category

linda-danvers1I’m back. Been stuck in orbit around an unfriendly planet. A skank of buttmunch with an incredible pull, she sucks me in and saps my energy.

So yeah, I was gone. But I was practically imprisoned. Please don’t hate me for it. It was murder being away from you as well.

Needless to say, I remain at odds with the world in it’s current broken condition. I do appreciate a comeback story and I do feel one coming on. Don’t you?

The nice thing about unkind extremes is that they clarify a few long-held hypotheses. I believe we are being shaken for a reason, the crux is why we embrace the suck. Still, who likes being molded? It is a painful and unpredictable contortion, miles away from rest. No one wants to rest more than I, my loverlies.

Which brings me back to blodging, I miss this vile contortion. It was a favored escape hatch to me many times in the past. And let’s just say as the oxygen begins to thin and my mind begins to drift nostalgic, I’d rather be out here floating with my blown-eyeds than anywhere else in the world.

It’s time to redistribute my priorities. Welcome back to the top of my list.

It’s become the chant of our house ever since the Architect added the Robot Servant quarters to our dream space station schematics. Not every family dreams of a mansion in space, but we do.

Absolutely not, not in my space station, no way. Free the Robots! I insist. I meant no harm, but I might have stunted my kids’ imaginations with my recurring commitment to us remaining an anti-enslavement family. It’s just so last century, right? But the kids don’t get me. How do we even get to space without robots? Everywhere there’s technology, they see robots. They are baffled by my seemingly backward stroke of applying human rights to technology.

And somehow, I’m content with it all. Yes. When the kids think I’m crazy, I feel like I’m gaining mastery of my mothership skills. Teaching concepts through the abstract, perhaps, but at least they may recognize utter bullshit when they experience it in real life. I guarantee you they have never questioned my reasoning so intently before.

Perhaps, my left wing one act plays don’t properly portray the horror I intend. That of liberal government intervention and over-regulation that potentially saps innovation and motivation from all life support. Moreover, how all of these government programs created with our tax dollars to supposedly do what is in our best interest have extremely long reaching consequences. You know, government bureacracies historically outlive childhood innocence at a rate of a hundred to one. My goodness! It’s a wonder we get up in the morning at all.

No. The kids aren’t getting any of this, I realize. But I’m planting deeply troubling seeds and hey, I’m entertained. Most days, that’s all I need.

Why do we call him the Scientist? Because you never know what’s going on in there. The only word from his actual spelling list was “bat”. The rest? Circled for I don’t know what purpose.

Wish me luck, pray for me, whatever you can do. Sanity comes in sporadic bursts these days. If this is any indicator, I think it’s going to be a very long year. Woo-hoo!

Look, sea.
   There was a time I didn’t think I was really cruise people. I thought it was more of a tottery old person’s getaway. You know, slow moving, bow ties every night, that kind of thing. It didn’t excite me.
   I was so wrong. Four days at sea corrected everything for me. Friends, Strangers, Randoms, hear me please, book a cruise. I recommend it for all that ails you. Right away.
   Ours was a Disney park & cruise combo. The park was a shade beyond total freaking mayhem on the Fourth, but other than that, typical Disney wonderment.

   Repeatedly, I told the boys to try to pose more like brothers, and less like, “We fell in love in the Bahamas,” but they didn’t get my drift. They were soaked to the bone with happiness. Every picture looks more or less like this one. Hey, the Bahamas are for brudders, afterall.
   Every Disney cruise goes to their private island, Castaway Cay. Besides having a beautiful unpopulated island all to yourself, it’s Disney-styled decadence at every turn. The music was live caribbean covers of eighties classics. We went on a treasure hunt around the island and found treasure. They had The Flying Dutchman from Pirates of the Caribbean docked there and Captain Jack Sparrow on the scene to sign autographs and pose for photo ops. Even the kids could sense the once in a lifetime feel of everything. Our two days at Castaway were just beyond words. The first day there, we hit the beach early. After swimming in the lagoon for hours and playing a few games, we went back to the ship to catch the first possible showing of Wall-E. All of Disney’s lastest films were playing on the ship, which may not sound like much of a perk to you guys, but believe me, huge perk in Single, Momland. A two hour jaunt to the movies costs us about $50 these days, and that’s for heinous parking (door dings practically guaranteed) and lines at every intersection in the joint. Not on the ship, no, no. A big gorgeous showplace movie theater and you just walked in and took a seat. Heaven. And the movie was wonderful as well.

    We only took one excursion from the boat, and that came on the third day when we woke in Nassau. We had a day pass to the famed Atlantis Resort which has a pirate museum, indoor & outdoor aquariums, a huge sprawling water park, a casino, a shopping mall, and a compound of luxury hotel rooms.    I had booked and paid for the excursion based soley on the rumors involving this beast pictured to the right here—>The Mayan Temple, a seven story water slide called the Leap of Faith that drops you nearly 60 feet straight down and then ejects you through a shark tank. This was my first ride of the day! I am happy to report that I survived it. However, lot of good it was to shoot through the shark tank. I could see nothing with my eyes clenched tight, and hear nothing but my own terrified screams reverberating in the chamber. Imagine the daylong depression that set in when I exited the slide and snapped a pic of this lazy lump of a shark parked somewhat permanently right on top of my tube. Too bad I didn’t see it the first time, because it wasn’t worth it to me to try again.    
   
   And I could bore you for days with the stories. Lull you to sleep with the swaying of the waves. Cater to your every need from sun up to sun down. Surround you in mesmerizing beauty. Define your happy place. I found mine just a few miles past the dock. Now I can’t wait to drift back there in my dreams.

   Bon Voyage, Bon Blown Eye!

I am I am I am SuperSlammed, and I don’t know what’s happening
I am I am I am SuperSlammed, and I can’t do anything…

Saturday Night Supa Paul

Saturday Night Supa Paul

It’s been a whole month since Camp Blownstar! I have been so hungry to tell ya’ll the stories from my perspective. It has been hard on me though. My blog broke and RedNeck did a complete remodel. Then, Denny was kind enough to grant me posting privileges at his place, for which I was extremely thankful, but it began a pissing war for SuperGurl.

Mainly, because I kept leaking my best photos! The first night I uploaded a pic, and it was fuzzy and red-eyed, and I thought, forget this tonight and went to bed. The next day, I pull up Denny’s site and it’s there, posted with Denny’s commentary. I was irritated, but again, pretty much at myself for being a doofus. Again, I think I posted it blank, Denny just added a title to make it not look so gay at his site.

So then, I lost computer access for days. When I got it back, I went back through 400 pics of my vacation and the blogmeet, trying to drunk-correct the exposures with software. As soon as I get done, I send the pics to CharlieDelta, who makes his own motivational poster out of another of my faves and sends it to Denny, who posts it! FUCK, people.

Then they all give me shit because I had plenty of time to post it myself. I am sorry, a-holes (said in the most loving manner), but after your computer locks up for weeks, your patience for spending time composing posts wears paper thin.

Plus, this was my last week of work for the month. Summertime is always slow, but you subtract eight days out of a possible twenty in the office and you have the makings of disaster in the commission only world. In short, suck it, you self consumed mofos that abused your access to SuperGurl. I could almost bear the copyright infringement, if you wouldn’t have been so ugly to me in the commentary.

Let’s establish some boundries, shall we? No matter how much you love the sullied prose that spews volcanically from Supra Gee’s piehole, you must always remember, this is my outlet, not my inlet. It’s not my job, it’s not my priority, and although I lover you all like mad, sometimes you make me a little uncomfortable with your expectations.

It’s just a blown-eyed blodge, folks! Most people on the outside don’t have a clue how we could tie up five seconds with such a voyeuristic habit. And then, the folks on the inside operate like it’s some committed commune where you have to dedicate all your time, efforts, resources. Could we partition off a little middleground, my brothers? Holy freaking mole! I already have a religion, people.

So like my beautiful sonbrother, Paul, I’m taking flight. Remember, it’s why I’m here.
See ya real soon around the sphere, my screaming shit-slinging lovemonkies.