1) Abstract art (under hallucinogenic stimulus)

We’re off to a good start. I don’t do any kind of art nor do I do hallucinogenic stimulus. Not on purpose, anyway. Actually, I’m not sure what this has to do with Satanism.

2) Acupuncture

I don’t do acupuncture, either. Hell, I won’t take a medical needle if I can help it. But now you can be wary and know that if you’re seeing an acupuncturist he or she is probably a Satanist. You may want to check the office for abstract art that may have been done while on drugs.

3) Amulets (tigers claw, sharks tooth, horseshoe over door, mascots, talisman

Now I know that those sports teams come from Hell, just as I always suspected. And surfers? Definitely Satanists. Nothing here.

4) Automatic writing

Uh oh. I do this all the time. People are, like, “Sign here, please.” And I’m all, like, whatever, right? And sign my name. Without thinking about it! +1

5) Birth signs

I have a birth sign! +1=2

6) Black arts

Well, I think Lester Kern is a decent artist. And, frankly, I’m surprised because he has Christian paintings as well as African-centric art. I’m really not sure what this has to do with Satanism.  I guess this is a +1=3

7) Gothic rock music

Um. Sisters of Mercy and Bauhaus, so, yep. +1=4

8) Hard rock music – Kiss, Led Zeppelin, Rolling Stones

Uh… Yep. +1=5

9) Most non-Christian Heavy metal and hard rock music – Slayer, Behemoth, AC/DC, Guns and Roses

Guilty. And now I have to see what Behemoth is all about. So, what? +1=6. Hmm.

10) Lucky charms

Oh. My. God! Yes, I’ve eaten Lucky Charms! +1=7

11) Mental therapy

Well, yes. I thought it was a good thing but now I see it’s just leading me down a deep, dark path. +1=8

12) Pagan religious objects, artifacts and relics

Oh no! It’s true! Christmas trees at Christmas! Yule logs! Eggs at Easter! I’m guilty! +1 = 9

13) Precognition

I totally do this. Like, I know which idiot is gong to cross three lanes of traffic in front of me to make his exit. I know what person will be driving really slow when I get behind them, and I know which line will start moving faster once I switch to another one. +1=10

14) Punk rock music

Guilty again. +1=11

Well, I need to stop here. The list I’m getting these from is about 20 pages long and can contain just about anything you can think of. So, there you go, I’m a clinically depressed occult using Satan worshiper. This is bad news, indeed.

The mind is a funny thing. I’m not an especially quick thinker. I usually think of things, mull them over, examine an idea from every side and then, ten years later, call someone up and give them a response.

The other day, though, I went to the grocery store. It was a nice day so I had both windows down. I was sitting in the car blasting music (Anthrax this time) and using my phone to check into Foursquare (because everybody loves knowing when I go shopping and, by God, one day I will be mayor!) when some lady holding a kid leans into the passenger side window. She was holding a baby.

“Excuse me,” she said. And, quick as a mongoose, my mind was racing trying to figure out why a woman was talking to me. She was holding a baby. Was she about to complain about me playing the music too loud in the parking lot? I turned down the radio and said, “Hi.”

Then she started to say, “You have a wicked — ” and, again, my brain leapt into action. A wicked what? Dent? Hole in my trunk? Flat tire? I had a vision of a bumper hanging off the back of my car, dragging on the ground. And I don’t think it can actually do that. “–ly cool car!” Oh. Ah. Okay, I can deal with that. I thanked her for her kind comments and let my heart slow down to a more reasonable speed.

Why does my brain work that way? I couldn’t rightly say.

I’ve been surrounded by the word ‘depression’ lately. Most people think I’m depressed. I don’t feel particularly depressed most of the time, but I’m told that’s different from clinical depression. I thought it would be nice to go through the symptoms and see how I fare. I invite you to come with.

1) Difficulty concentrating, remembering details, and making decisions

Come to think of it, I do have trouble concentrating; especially on things that I really want to concentrate on. For some reason I don’t have any trouble while writing these blogs but trying to get a real story going? Yeah, that can be hard. I don’t have problems remembering details that I know of. I’m not sure what kind of details they mean. And as for making decisions? Yes, I’ve always had a hard time with that. For instance, if I want to buy something and I have a lot of choices I’ll generally give up and not get anything. So, let’s call this +1.

2) Fatigue and decreased energy

I reckon this is the case. I have a hard time getting up the energy to do anything. Sure, I get up and go to work but I really have to; I can’t afford not to work. My apartment, though, is a wreck because I find it hard to get up the energy to gather up stuff and put it away. 1+1=2.

3) Feelings of guilt, worthlessness, and/or helplessness

Well, this is a biggie. I do have feelings of guilt. I feel like I have a lot of reasons to feel guilty. There are some things I don’t feel guilty for that I feel I should and that makes me feel guilty, too. Feelings of worthlessness? Absolutely. I couldn’t tell you why, exactly. I’m good at my job. If I’m with someone I’m a good person towards them. But, still, there’s always that nagging feeling in my head that I’m really just not good enough. After all, I’ve got a decent mind and what have I used it for? Writing a blog. A blog that gets less attention than someone who posts about buying a bag of Cheetos.  I don’t feel helpless, though. Useless, worthless, not helpless. Far from it. So… 2+1=3?

4) Feelings of hopelessness and/or pessimism

Nope. I really don’t. I always feel that tomorrow can be a better day. I may not say that, but that’s how I feel. Everything has a cycle; life may be heading downwards today but that doesn’t mean that tomorrow might be the day it all turns around.  So, ha, that’s a 0. Still at 3.

5) Insomnia, early-morning wakefulness, or excessive sleeping

Excessive sleeping? Nope, not me. Insomnia? Not really. Early-morning wakefulness? Oh, yes. But I have a cat who demands to be fed early in the morning and two birds who raise a ruckus when they wake up (at dawn). So, I’m going to have to go with a ’0′ here. 3.

6) Irritability, restlessness

I sure do get irritable. Everyone does, I’m sure. I would give me a ’0′ for that just because it’s amazingly broad. Then there’s restlessness. I get that frequently. I’ll be home, alone, doing nothing, bored out of my skull. Yet, I won’t do anything about it. I won’t go out. I blame that on #2 up there. So, +1=4.

7) Loss of interest in activities or hobbies once pleasurable, including sex

Well, yes. Except for sex. But I’ve never really had any activities or hobbies. Video games, maybe, but I’m definitely losing interest in that. And writing. Which I’ve largely lost interest in, except for these blogs. I never tire of sex, though, and it’s only a pity that it’s out of the picture. So, what? +1? 5?

8) Overeating or appetite loss

This is a funny one. Yes to both. I really don’t feel hungry anymore, except a few minutes of hunger pangs here and there. I don’t eat breakfast, I don’t eat lunch, I don’t snack during the day, but I do eat dinner. And I eat dinner more because it’s time to eat dinner than out of hunger. It’s the rare occasion when hunger pangs happen at dinner time. Yet, I’ll overeat. I’ll do that because I feel I need to. For whatever reason. Not enough for leftovers? Sure. To clean my plate? Okay. There are children starving in India? Why not? Whatever. I’ll eat and eat and eat because I feel I’m expected to do so. It’s only been recently that I’ve realized I don’t have to be this way and have acted to curb it. This is the reason why I’m still losing weight and can remove my pants, with the belt on the last hole, without opening them. Right after they get out of the dryer. So, I’m still going to say +1 here. 6.

9) Persistent aches or pains, headaches, cramps, or digestive problems that do not ease even with treatment

Nope. Can’t say that I do. 0. Still 6.

10) Persistent sad, anxious, or “empty” feelings

I guess. I don’t really understand what this means. Of course, I have plenty of reasons to feel sad. Ten years worth, at least. I have acquaintances, but no friends. I’m horrible in social situations. I am… very, very, alone. I’m not sure what “empty” means, so I guess that’s no. Still, +1. 7.

11) Thoughts of suicide, suicide attempts

Before anyone freaks out, make sure you read the whole thing. No, I have not attempted suicide. I have no desire to end my own life. However, I do think of suicide, in general terms, quite frequently. Not in terms of me, though, but to other people and why they would do it. It does give me pause, though, that I’ve been told, by people who know, that when depressed people go on anti-depressants they finally get up the energy to kill themselves. This worries me because if I were to go on medication for depression (which seems kind of likely if I’m up to 7 out of 11) I wouldn’t want to suddenly start thinking about saying that long goodbye. There’s too many interesting things going on that I don’t want to miss. Sure, my life isn’t one of them, but there’s other stuff. So…. let’s say 1/2. Seven and a half out of 11.

That doesn’t sound very good to me. I bet my therapist is sad that she doesn’t read my blog now. Er, not that she’d know to be sad… Well, whatever. The question now is: What to do about this? Being more open with my therapist will probably be a good start, and I’ve already started that. We’ll see how things go. But I’m still worried about taking medication. I have no idea how much that would change me, if it did at all. Worse, what if it made my life tremendously better and then I got depressed because I could have been that way my whole life? Conundrum! On the other hand, one of the things I hate the most about me is my weight. Maybe feeling better would curb the dinner binge. Who’s to say?

I hope you all found this as interesting as I did..

Well, I was going end this on an upbeat note so nobody else would get the blues. I can’t really think of anything, though. I didn’t do anything interesting this week that I remember. So you’re stuck with it.

Every once in a while you come across something that you think you would never want to eat but end up having it and, while it wasn’t very good, turns out to be something you enjoy having every once in a while. Even if you don’t want to admit it.

So I was making a “Tater Tot Casserole” one day, using a modified Duggar’s recipe, when I started wondering how a famous TV chef might make a classy version.

The Duggar’s recipe contains: ground turkey, Cream of Mushroom soup, Cream of Chicken soup, evaporated milk, and frozen tater tots.

Replacing the ground turkey with something else, maybe ground lamb, would be a good start. And then add some vegetables for color. Replace the condensed soup with a savory gravy would definitely make it upscale. And replace those tots with, I don’t know, mashed potatoes?

And that’s when it hit me: There already was a gourmet version of Tater Tot Casserole. It’s called a Shepherd’s Pie. It’s been around forever. What I was eating was a de-evolution of that. I was eating a white trash Shepherd’s Pie. The only way it could be lower class would be to make it with ground possum meat. The worst part is, it’s not that bad.

The other day I took my jeans out of the dryer and put them on, along with my belt. As I was walking around the apartment I noticed that I had to continually pull my pants up. I checked my belt thinking that I didn’t tighten it as far as I usually do, but it was already on the last hole. Normally when jeans come out of the dryer they’re quite tight around the waist. So I weighed myself and saw that I was still, somehow, losing weight.

I think it has to do with getting my head around the idea that I’m not a slave to anyone or time. That I don’t have to eat everything that I make at one time because if I put it in the fridge it will still be there tomorrow. I don’t have to have dinner with other people so I can eat when I’m hungry and not just because it’s time for dinner.

Another thing I’ve noticed, which may be related to my food epiphany, is that I seem to be a more restful sleeper. It used to be that if I made my bed and went to sleep when I woke up the bed would be a wreck — pillows on the floor, sheets wadded up on one side of the bed, and the fitted sheet unattached to the corners. I recently changed the bedding and had everything neat. Two pillows, fitted sheet put on properly (for a change), regular sheet pulled up to the pillows, and the comforter folded up length-wise and placed at the foot of the bed. I don’t sleep under covers (a habit picked up from sleeping with a cover thief) so I just lay on top of everything. When I wake in the mornings, now, everything is still in place. Even the comforter, which is the most surprising thing considering it’s right at the foot of the bed.

I’m taking this as a good sign.

There’s a lot of music that I’ve heard about but never listened to, for whatever reason. Heavy metal from certain bands like Iron Maiden, or the so-called Satanic Black Death Heavy Metal from Slayer. So, having nothing better to do, I put some Iron Maiden and Slayer on the car radio.

I went out to have coffee with a friend the other night and stopped for gas. I cruised up next to a pump, with Slayer blasting from the stereo, next to a fairly well dressed guy filling up his BMW.

It struck me, then, that at 43 it’s doubtful that I’ll be changing much. That if I were to be visited by nieces and nephews, or grand nephews and nieces, that I won’t be playing big band music on the radio. Instead, I’ll be playing New Model Army or Dead Kennedys or something from a faux-wood covered, hand cranked CD player. I wonder what my funeral would be like if I requested that a tape-loop of Stormtroopers of Death, NoMeansNo, and other oddball bands be played.

I always thought it was mandatory that, at a certain age, you started listening to Muzak versions of popular hits. I remember walking through grocery stores and listening to the Muzak system and wondering how anyone could find it enjoyable. The grocery store I go to now, though, has played The Cure, Love & Rockets, Elton John, The Cars, B-52s and God knows how many other things. I’m totally OK with that.

It’s no secret that I like building computers. I like taking all the bits and putting them together into something that works. Usually works. I’m feeling that itch to build another box. I’m also getting the itch to figure out which operating system I want to use as a main OS. Unfortunately, it’s hard to decide.

What I would like to do is have two computers: one running Windows and one running Linux. At the same time. So I can switch between them.

But I don’t want to give up my dual monitors and dual monitor switch boxes are crazy expensive. And, really, I want three monitors. Because I’m crazy, too. I don’t know if they make a switch box that supports three DVI monitors, but if they do it’s probably close to $1,000.

So, what to do?

Being the genius that I am, I require constant mental input. When I run out of mental stimuli I like to go through my various email account’s spam folders to see what kind of things I’m missing out on. It used to be just the usual things: penis enlargement and university diplomas. While those two things can be a winning combination it gets kind of boring to just see those two all the time.

Things haven’t changed much in the spam email universe. I may get a lot more now, but it’s usually the same thing. Actually, I get a bit more porn ones than usual (I’m looking at you, Russian Mail Order Bride site) and that will bring us to what’s really wrong with spam email these days.

The trick to spam is to get someone to read it and have it seem somewhat legitimate. This is not happening. My Yahoo! account is a good example. First, the majority of spam in my Yahoo account is in Spanish. It’s the only one of my email accounts that gives me Spanish spam. Right there, I know I can ignore it. But the person in charge of sending spam to the Yahoo accounts is so incredibly stupid that they use my email address as the sender. Sure, I have a crappy memory sometimes but I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I sent myself an email about getting a university diploma at home while having a large penis.

My Yahoo! account is where most of my job search stuff ends up. It’s not surprising, then, that a lot of the spam is made to look like a job offer. You would think that’s kind of clever, but it’s easy to spot if, say, your resume is full of stuff about network administration and the emails you get start with this: “Hello Mr. X, I’ve been reading your resume and you sound like a perfect fit to sell insurance!”

But I know that there are people out there who are new to the Internet and not savvy to the ways of spam, and old people who are easily suckered, and lonely people who are happy to get any kind of email, and people who are just plain stupid so let’s take an email and see if we can educate some people in recognizing spam emails.

This is an actual email I have in my Yahoo! spam catcher. I’ve only edited out my personal details, everything else is exactly how I received it.

Take a look at it and see if you spot anything unusual. I’ll wait. Okay, let’s start with the addressing of the email.

First, the email comes from a Yahoo! account. Would you trust a company that sent you an email not using their companies email address? Also, it’s addressed to the same person that sent it. That means you’re on a mailing list. This email was not sent to you, it was sent to you and a billion other people. Also, that doesn’t look like a real name.

How many times have you walked into Target and had the cashier try and convince you that they were, in fact, a store and not a scam? Or a bank? Once? Twice? Never? That’s because they don’t need to. A scammer, on the other hand, does have to convince you that he’s not a scammer. And what better way than to blurt out, “Hey! I’m not a scammer!”

And then there’s the person you’re supposed to contact. What isn’t unusual is that it’s a different person than who sent the email. What is unusual is that this person is using the company email address rather than a Yahoo! account. Again, why would a legitimate company send you an email from a Yahoo! account if they had a perfectly valid company account to use? They wouldn’t. Also, “jobbs”? I won’t even mention that the email appears to be used for Americans ($ amounts, ‘jobbsbankusa‘) and yet they used the word “whilst” in the email.

So, there you go. Ways that you can avoid getting ripped off and taken advantage of. Oh, wait, there is one more detail.

Unless you’re George Hamilton, human resource employees almost never send you pictures of their asses. As a rule, they don’t allow pictures like this in the company directory, either. Unless this is some kind of new “work at home” HR thing and this person sidelines as a prostitute it’s certain that this didn’t come from a legitimate company.

I hope you all found this helpful.

I can’t say that I haven’t thought about entering the dating scene. The thing is, I’ve never been on a proper date in my life. I’ve had girlfriends, I’ve been married twice, yet, somehow, I’ve never been on an actual “date.” I think all my relationships have been dysfunctional in one form or another. How else does something like that happen?

Either that, or I have been on a date and didn’t realize it. I couldn’t say for sure if that was a good thing or not.

There was that one lunch date, but that didn’t turn out well after I trashed Harry Potter. You shouldn’t ask my opinion on something if you don’t want to hear my opinion, though.

I have two accounts on free dating sites and, technically, I’m registered on at least two more. That’s not counting the Russian “mail order bride” site I had to sign up for to do research (I swear) on if mail order brides still existed. For those keeping track, I’d gotten over 200 emails purporting to be from women on that site and then they all stopped. I guess they realized that this hunk of a man wasn’t really in the market. Or they got shut down. I’m going to go with the idea that there are over 200 heart broken Russian, Ukranian, and other -ian women, who just stopped emailing.

The problem is — no, one of the problems — is that I’m not very good with small talk. I’m not interested in what 90% of the rest of the population is interested in. That makes finding common ground a smaller patch to stand on. I don’t care about sports, I don’t watch “reality” television (except “Hell’s Kitchen,” “Kitchen Nightmares,” and sometimes “The Biggest Loser”), I rarely watch new movies (by myself), I don’t dance, I’m not a big drinker, and, well, I could go on forever with all the things I’m not.

“But you’re so sociable online!” you yell out. Yes, I am. I have time to think of a witty, even sensical, response. If we were facing each other and you said something to me what you would see is a blank stare for a few moments while I processed what you said and tried to come up with a response that would entertain you. Failing that, I’d try and find one that wouldn’t scare you. If that didn’t work I would have to resort to “LOL” which does not, DOES NOT, translate well to the real world. The other day I was talking to a woman and she mentioned the Lions losing a football game. I have no interest in sports so I was only vaguely aware of what she was talking about and that was because I remembered people mentioning it on Facebook.

No, I have to get to know someone and they need to get to know me before we can have really good conversation. And that’s why my relationships end up starting long past the “discovery” phase. For that to happen, though, it takes more than a chance meeting at a bar (usually). Unless she’s totally blitzed, she’ll get bored and go over and talk to the biker guy with all the tatoos.

But the other problem is that I’m clueless. I can see when a woman is trying to get it through to someone else that they’re interested in them but, when it comes to me, totally clueless. I’m more likely to think that someone is being friendly rather than hitting on me. Sometimes it can take days before it sinks in. I know I’ve said it before but it bears repeating, multiple times, that I need to be hit with the “Hammer of Obviousness” before I get it.

This is not me being self-effacing, this is the way it is.

News came out the other day that Hostess, makers of treats Twinkies, HoHos, DingDongs, and others has gone into bankruptcy. I took the news as expected, falling to my knees, taking a deep breath, tilting my head back and then screaming “Nooooooooooo!” as if an uncaring God would intervene.

Mind you, I hadn’t had a Hostess product in years. This would make me one of the reasons why they filed. But when you hear that the Twinkie may become extinct it’s the kind of thing you have to do unless you’re one of those souless health food nuts who don’t have a sense of humor. One of those people who just smile and nod, happy that a product you don’t purchase is gone from the face of the Earth because, while you don’t eat HoHos, someone else might and that would be bad for them and who better to dictate someone else’s state of health than you?

Nobody.

So, it isn’t that I would miss Hostess because I eat their products it’s because I’ve grown up with the idea of ‘Twinkies.’ Twinkies are ingrained in our culture. My culture, growing up through the 1970s and 1980s. To me, this is something else I grew up with being taken away. Another sign that I’m old and growing older.

To tell the truth, I really liked Drakes more than Hostess. Why did I make a big deal of it on Facebook and Google+? For the simple reason of wanting to take a humorous photo. The joke was to take a picture of two products made by competing bakery, Bimbo, and then caption the photo with “I was so distraught over the Hostess news that I went out, got drunk, and brought home a couple of Bimbos.” Hilarious.

I was so distraught over the Hostess bankruptcy news I went out, got drunk, and brought home a couple of Bimbos.

Getting this photo would require something simple: going out to the store and getting two Bimbo products. Almost every day I’ve seen them sitting on shelves and almost every day I would look at them and, to myself, say, “Heh heh… Bimbo…”

I went to the store. I didn’t see anything by Bimbo. I walked up and down all the aisles that I thought might contain mass produced bakery items. I visited endcaps. Nothing. I gave up and left the grocery store. I had to pass by a Walgreens on the way home so I stopped in there. Surely Walgreens would have something. But, no, they didn’t. I was asked by an associate if I needed help and I told her that I was looking for Bimbos. This, in itself, should have been an invitation to hilarity but she knew what I was talking about and told me that they didn’t carry anything. I sadly walked out to my car.

Standing there, in the dark, my hands resting lightly on the trunk spoiler of the Challenger, I wondered if I should bother going all the way to Wal*Mart. For sure, Wal*Mart has everything. Then I thought, “Maybe you’re taking this too far. You know, just for a joke picture.” And I was right. And, surely, on another day I could drop in there and pick it up. But maybe it wouldn’t be as relevent. Maybe, worse yet, somebody else would do it before I did! “That will not stand!” I shouted to the parking lot, one fist smacking into the other open palm.

I leapt into the Challenger, rolled the windows down all the way (because it was, like, 70 degrees outside!), turned Iron Maiden all the way up so that the rearview mirror shuddered with every bass note, fired up the 6.4 liter Hemi with a thunderous roar! Then I very gradually pulled out into traffic.

When I got to Wal*Mart I walked right through the doors like I was a man on a mission, turned left, and walked straight to where I’d seen that goofy Bimbo bear many times before. He wasn’t there. I looked around the bakery section and didn’t see anything there, either. Then I went down the bread aisle where the Hostess and Little Debbie stuff is kept. No, not there. I wandered down the “International” aisle. The Bimbo bear was missing. But I knew that Wal*Mart carried Bimbo. I couldn’t count the amount of times I’d seen Bimbo stuff sitting on shelves.

I resolved to not leave until I found something. Even if it was a three year old cake found in the back somewhere. I went up and down every aisle. I checked every endcap. I decided to even include the frozen food section in my search, in my madness. And that’s where I found them. In the frozen food section. Obvious.

By the time I got home, it was close to 8pm. I had spent well over an hour and a half looking for snack food cakes for no other reason than to take a slightly humorous photo.

On Wednesday I had nothing to write about and that worried me. Now, though, I’m on the verge of topping 1500 words. I guess I’m riding the coat tails of someone else’s failure and what could be better than that?

There’s not much to do or worry about unless you’re lucky and have a significant other. Even then, you have a month or so to prepare for it.

I’ve already made progress on my resolutions. One of them, anyway. Getting my apartment in order. I’ve thrown out a bunch of empty and near-empty boxes from my closet. It still wasn’t easy. I’m not a hoarder, but I find that I’ve kept a bunch of useless things that belonged to my wife. Empty pill bottles with her name on them, old hand lotion, and other mundane items. Stuff that doesn’t really have a connection to her and definitely doesn’t have a use for me. But they’re gone now. Throwing something in the trash doesn’t mean throwing away the memories, and most of the things in those boxes didn’t even have those. Since I had accomplished that I also went after the refrigerator.

There were things in there that were quite old even before I moved into the apartment. Tossing them in the bin finally opened up some room in there. The pantry is next.

There are things in there that were old when we moved into the house we lived in previously. Dumping those things in the trash mean not being able to play “Guess My Expiration Date,” though. Still, it would be nice to have the space in there.

It’s still hard, though. Rummaging around I find things that she thought I would find interesting but I never got around to making. Or things she wanted to try but never got around to making. I feel like I’m disappointing her by getting rid of it, even though if she were still alive she’d be trying to toss it in the garbage herself, considering how old some of the stuff is. The heart and the mind: sometimes they just don’t see eye-to-eye.

It’s an on-going process, though. I still haven’t decided on where I would “go out.” That will probably be a last minute decision kind of thing. I see advertisements for establishments called “Gentlemen’s Clubs.” I may look into those. I suspect they are places with large living room type areas, quiet, wood paneled, with roaring fireplaces. There are probably wing back leather chairs where gentlemen sit and sip brandy or cognac while having meaningful conversations about the current state of affairs. Such conversations are undoubtedly interspersed with comments like, “I say!” or “By Jove!” When the conversation comes to a lull everyone probably re-fills their pipes and tamps their tobacco.

I say, it was a jolly good idea to visit the gentlemen's club!

Work on my website is still on paper, working out all the kinks there. Well, not all of them — there’s always going to be something that’ll pop up once actual coding starts. It’s the Way.

I have, however, cooked some real meals. I do not even have a frozen dinner in my freezer. If I keep this up I may have to start looking for recipes to try. An unfortunate side affect of cooking is dishes. Tons of pots, pans and dishes end up getting dirty.

And, finally, the Aventador. I haven’t progressed much on that front on account of spending a lot at the grocery store for stuff to make dinners with. Someday, though… Someday.

I have decided that the time for lollygagging is over. I have begun work on my first book. It is guaranteed to be a blockbuster best seller. Here is the synopsis:

Billy, a poor orphan boy, was abducted by pirates. Living among these hardened sea travelers he wishes only to be free of their crude and frightening ways. Good fortune smiles upon him when he is rescued by a team of Ninjas. He lives with them, learning their ways, when he finds out that he is destined to slay the evil vampire wizard warlord and his army of zombies. The Ninja clan vow to help him and bring Billy into the family by revealing that they are, in fact, Ninja werewolves! They share their blood with Billy so that he, too, becomes a Ninja werewolf which gives him the ability to capture and tame the fabled Unicorn of Dreadmore Forest. With the help of the werewolf Ninjas and the Unicorn, which transforms into a mighty dragon, Billy defeats the undead army, learns that his parents are, after all, alive and the deposed king and queen of Tarantia. Thus, Billy, the werewolf Ninja, Unicorn-Dragon riding, ex-pirate, Prince of Tarantia realizes he’s the most special young man in the entire world that the ancient prophecies had foretold.

It can’t fail.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Syndey Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 9,200 times in 2011. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 3 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

I did, for want of a better phrase, some last minute Christmas shopping. It was mostly for food and other important things just in case I ran out and the stores were closed for the holidays. Lately that’s been a rare thing but it always pays to be prepared.

I had to get some bird food so I stopped at Pet Smart. While I was there I figured I would buy the birds a Christmas present. Pet Smart is not the best place to go when you have large birds. The toys they have are more suited to the smaller birds and those toys wouldn’t last ten minutes around these two. So I was browsing the meager offerings and decided on something for Zoey and, after a few more minutes, picked something that I thought Tooka might like.

That’s when a little bit more of my sanity ran out from under my shoes. I noticed that Zoey’s toy was more expensive than Tooka’s. I began to wonder if, maybe, I shouldn’t get him something else to even out the price point. For a minute, a short minute, I actually thought they would care. Sure, they’re smart birds, but it’s unlikely either of them will jump on the computer to find out that one toy cost more than the other. In the end they got what I picked out for them. And, for anyone who’s wondering, I did get Junior something.

Then I had an idea that would make me seem like a truly sad and lonely person: video the birds opening their presents. That should be easy enough; they like tearing up paper and making a mess. So I wrapped their presents (badly, because I can’t wrap anything much less irregular shaped things) and brought out the birds. I tried Tooka first, since he’s always going after anything he can get his pruning shears on. He took one look at the package and flew away. He wouldn’t get near it. Eventually I had to unwrap it and he seemed entirely unthrilled with his present.

Then I tried Zoey. I put the present and her down on the floor. She looked at it, walked around it very carefully, then made a beeline for her cage. So I put her on my shoulder and unwrapped it for her. She seemed overjoyed with her gift, though, going after it while still on my shoulder.

I gave up by the time it was Juniors time. So I just put it together and played with him for a while. He totally digs his new toy, which is a want with a beehive on the end and a bee on the end of a ribbon.

My Christmas was spent with my mom, which was great. She gave me a Keurig coffee maker, which is awesome. She also gave me more Starbucks gift cards. In theory, I shouldn’t have to sleep for the next month or so.

I tried to make some food to bring along with me in an attempt to do my part. I made a sage cornbread stuffing which tasted all right but was a little mushy. I also tried to make deviled eggs.

Now, you might think it’d be somewhat impossible to screw up deviled eggs but I managed to do it. They didn’t peel properly so they were all pock marked and ugly. I didn’t get the mixture right so they tasted funny. I gave up on them. But I will try again the next time I manage to remember to buy eggs. I don’t like to fail. Especially with eggs.

The world has completed it’s journey around the sun again, like it has so many times in the past. That doesn’t mean we’re in the same place, though. The Earth spins on its axis, it moves around the sun, the sun moves around the galaxy, and the galaxy trudges onward like a giant grazing cow. The universe doesn’t care that we’ve made it for another round, but we do. Or we should. We’re all we’ve got as far as we know.

By the time this is posted it should be New Year’s Eve. Oddly enough, my calendar doesn’t recognize it but that’s all right because I don’t either, really. It used to be a big deal when staying up late was something I looked forward to and wasn’t allowed to do often. So tomorrow is another day, another reason to buy a new calendar. Some people consider it a marker, not just of a new number, but as a way of improving themselves and making changes in their life. I’m one of those people — for the first four hours or so. My life has gone through many changes, though, especially in the last two years. Most of them were out of my control and, if you know me as well as you think you do, you know that I can’t stand things not being in my control when it comes to my own life. It sows discordance amid my soul.

And so, I have come up with my New Year’s Resolutions. So, follow along as we step down through them. If I make it past four hours on January 1st I may even post updates to them. Don’t be afraid to remind me of them, either, if you haven’t heard of any progress in these areas.

1) I hereby resolve to get my apartment in order.

It’s not dirty, it’s just messy and cluttered. But I don’t like it and it needs to change. Along with getting rid of the clutter, I would like to get rid of the furniture I have. I kept it for sentimental reasons but I think it’s best if I show them the door and wish them a bright future. I would buy new furniture to replace them, but someday I’m leaving this apartment and the less I have to drag out of here the better. The only exception may be a set of drawers so I don’t have to live out of my laundry basket anymore. Furthermore, I shall use the opportunity of having less clutter by building a family. I will do this by buying picture frames. The ones that have pictures of pretty, handsome, and fun loving people set in them. They have to be the ones without large words or prices, though. Then I’ll give them names and back stories. In the rare event anyone ever comes into my apartment (except, presumably, the person who might possibly be breaking into it to play with the birds) will think, “Huh, look at all these people he must know!”

2) I hereby resolve to go out somewhere

It’s no secret that I hate going out by myself. I feel bad for people I see eating dinner alone in a restaurant and I don’t want that to me. But I should get out and do something. If for no other reason than to realize that there still is a world out there with people doing stuff.

3) I hereby resolve to build my new website

Yes, build my new website and hope that someone buys it for a couple of million bucks. Then I can retire and not have to worry about money any more. Yes, I would happily sell out to the man. I have the idea and, with a little hard work, I’ll have the know how. If nothing else it’ll be handy for me.

4) I hereby resolve to get back to cooking

I will never be an accomplished chef. I know this because I don’t know anything about “layers of taste” or “explosions on your palette.” No, all I care about is that I can eat something and not gag on it. Lately I’ve been depending a lot of frozen foods. I aim to change that because it isn’t doing me any good. And if I can screw up an egg dish then I’m way out of practice. Too way out of practice.

That’s all I can think of right now. Aside from losing another ton of weight, but that’s a pretty common resolution. Someday, I will fit into that leopard print Speedos.

5) I hereby resolve to buy a Lamborghini Aventador.

Because there needs to be something that’s unrealistically unattainable.

Let's see... I've got $23.48 saved so far.

That’s all I can think of right now. Feel free to suggest your own.

So, that’s the end of another year. I’ve made it to over 300 posts, here on the web log. My readership numbers are still low, I guess, compared to other people with real “blogs” but I do have over 40 followers spread out among WordPress, Twitter, and Facebook. I thank you for making these posts seem worthwhile to do. And a special thanks to the people who leave comments. I like comments. To me, it says you’re paying attention.

Sadly, though, overall hits are down 5,000 from last year. A far cry from the banner year of 2009, with over 35,000 hits. Sure, I’ve read other blogs about how to gain readers but they all boil down to two things: Product placement and Finding a niche to write about.

I didn’t start writing web logs to make money (although, if you want to pay me for doing it I will; I’m not proud). I started it just to write. Having anyone else read this junk and enjoy it is a bonus. And, as far as I’m concerned, I am a niche. What comes out of my head is me, not a corporate press release. I don’t have books to sell, or products to get paid to review, and I don’t really care what celebrities are up to these days. I’m just some guy. With a vanity web site.

Let me wrap this up by saying I hope you all have a good New Year’s eve. May the coming year be kind to you and that you live in good health. If you know what I’ve been going through the last few years you’ll know how sincere I’m being right now.

And let’s hope the Mayans put out a new calendar this year.

I have an Android phone. I can’t say I’m particularly in love with it; it’s a tool and I use it as a tool. And sometimes it can really be a tool. One thing I dislike about it are the web browsers. It’s not the fault of the web browsers, though, it’s just the whole small-screen-small-keyboard thing. I find them difficult to use so I try and use apps for whatever reason.

They updated the Facebook app not too long ago. I have to wonder if anyone who wrote the app actually uses it. If I were to take a very serious guess I would say no, no they do not. There are two things in particular that annoy me with the Facebook app.

The first is that it changes the way it looks randomly. Sometimes I get my “Timeline” view and sometimes, more usual, I get the old Facebook look. That’s annoying, but nowhere near as annoying as the notification. They’ve changed it so it works the same way the web page does: a globe with a number of notifications is near the top of the screen. Touching the globe pops up a window with the new notifications. That’s all fine. If someone comments on a status update you touch the notification for it and it takes you to the status update and you can see people’s comments.

Now, take a picture and upload it to Facebook. Wait for a notification that someone has commented on your photo. Touch on the notification and you see… your photo, which takes up the entire screen. Look around for a way to view the comments. Do you see any way to do it? I couldn’t find a way. I don’t care about what the photo looks like. I took it. I uploaded it. I know what it looks like. I’m way more interested in what the comments are. So I have to go back to the main screen and filter my list to show just photos and then scroll down to where my photo is and then touch the  + button and then the comments button. Then I can read the comments. It’s such a time saver that I have to assume that I’m either doing something really wrong or the Facebook app developers have never used their own app.

I get a fair amount of spam comments on this blog. You never see them, hopefully, because I delete them. WordPress is pretty good at spotting them and putting them in a spot for me to review and delete. I think only twice has there been legitimate comments that were marked as spam. Most of the time they are very easy to spot and I have to wonder at the brain power of the people who wrote them. I know they’re all automated, but are they randomly composed?

So I bought my Dunkin’ Donuts K-Cups and I have to say they are a bit better than the Green Mountain ones. It’s kind of funny because I found out that Green Mountain owns Keurig. Or vice-versa. Either way, their own coffee is crap. Or I just don’t have the proper tastebuds to enjoy gourmet coffee. I don’t even see how they can be screwed up since, as near as I can tell, the cup consists of a paper filter and ground coffee. Next up: Starbucks.

But now it’s Christmas. Well, not right now. Right now it’s not around the corner; it’s past the corner and walking up the front steps. By the time you all read this it’ll be knocking on the door asking where all the eggnog is and then rooting through your bathroom cabinet.

For me, it used to be a fun time. It’s not so much anymore. It’s just another day in the year when I forget to send out holiday cards until three days before they’re supposed to arrive at their destination. I’m horrible with cards at the best of times and these– these are not the best of times.

I’m not here to bring you down, though. I’m here to lift  you up! After Christmas there’s New Year’s Eve and all you have to worry about there is figuring out which bottle of champagne to buy to bring to that party you were invited to (you were invited to). And then you’re free! FREE!

Until February, when, if you have a significant other, you have to start worrying about what to buy them.

Not that I’m all cynical about holidays. They do serve a purpose besides getting us to spend money to feed the corporate devils. They serve as a reminder that we have people in our lives and that they serve a purpose and fill a void and are important. Yeah, I know, you see your wife/husband and kids every day and you see your friends and you talk to your parents but do you really think about where they fit into your life all the time?

Hold them dear. I do. They may all think I drive around in my (admittedly awesome) car, going out partying every night, and living the high life and don’t have time to call or mail a card but the truth is far different. I sit in the dark not wanting to bother anyone and forgetting that holidays approach because I suck at being human. I think about them constantly, though; those living their every day lives and those lost.

So, for those who celebrate Christmas, I hope you have a very merry one. And I mean that, even if I don’t know you. I especially mean it if I do know you.

For those who don’t, I hope you have a good holiday of whatever it is you do observe. That may sound trite, but it comes from the heart. I don’t have much experience with, say, Hanukkah, but I hope it is as happy for you as it could be. If the point is to be happy. I don’t know.

If you don’t celebrate any holiday then I hope you have a nice day.

The next blog from me should come on the first of the new year. By then I should have my resolutions figured out.

Every winter I try and read "Winter's Tale" by Mark Helprin. I love the book and feel it's an appropriate activity for winter. I have to "try" to read it because my copies of it all go missing.

Other things: "A Confederacy of Dunces" which I'm halfway through. And "Infinite Jest" which I haven't started yet.