The Year

Well, if it isn’t that last bloody day of the year. Here are a few highlights from a hard year.

January

In early January of 2023, my much loved cousin Gary lost his battle with cancer.

I was plagued with unanswerable questions.

And I looked at chocolate and heavy metal (they are SO related!). 

February

I had Words Cylons and War in the year's second month.

And bitched about life "coaches."

March

In the early part of the month I discovered, NOT for the first time, that I was approaching my expiration date entirely due to a severe dark chocolate deficiency. Also, chocolate is SO appropriate for breakfast.

I went to see/experience The Kodo Drummers of Japan!

March contains Pi Day. Any and every month, day, year with pie is good, good, good.

April

There were words and such.

I searched for new names for myself—every now and again I have a yen for a new one. Names are problematic though. Fer instance:

Thunderhead, Destroyer of Dust Bunnies and Marshmallow Peeps? Great and appropriate name BUT it’s too damn long. Filling out forms at the hospital would be a nightmare for me AND the office staff. Maybe I could just go by Thunderhead. I mean, using just one name works for Cher, Madonna and Bono. Why not me?

May

I had a Nietzsche Morning in May. Always a thought inspiring occurrence.

I had questions about Little Bunny Foo Foo, juggling water, dowries and bride prices.

And, can I still take sick days when my only boss is me and, apart from seemingly endless rehab exercising, I no longer punch a time clock?

June

I kvetched about problematic writers. 

I gave MY definitions of some interesting words.

I checked in with our glorious whaley buds.

July

 The fourth was the seventh anniversary of The Amazing Bob’s exit stage left. On that same day I realized that I aspired to bioluminescence like a crystal jelly or a firefly squid.

I learned useful words like Artiodactyl and Hurkle-Durkle.

And I contemplated what it means to be an adult.

August

I had a birthday. It was a big one. 65 is the average age at which folks with neurofibromatosis type 2 croak. I haven’t. Yea me!

I rattled on again about basic shit adults need to know.

September

Trolls (of the intertubian persuasion) are desperately insecure (with good reason), angry-ass, failed humans (most often of the midget-dick-toting genus) whose only joy in life is unleashing their puerile, drool infused, know-nothing diatribes on those they feel are inferior.

I came to my current way of dealing with them. I don’t. I just completely ignore them whether it’s here or any other social media joint.

I talked about guinea pigs in Switzerland, Spam and shrimp heads.

In this month I discovered that the co-founder of one of my favorite periodicals is a broke-brained, under evolved racist and misogynist. Way to drown your legacy in a pool of stupidity, you ant beaned twat.
October

I discovered that Ghirardelli chocolates and my beloved Oreos are union made. How ‘bout that? I’m gonna go invest in a package of double stuff mint Oreos this morning because I support unions! Yep, that’s my sole reason. Sure.

In my ongoing efforts to keep from being utterly overwhelmed and never leaving the consoling comfort of my bed again, I explored the world of sentient beings who are less dangerous than humans…like Swards

And made a list of my favorite covers of great tunes.

November

 In the very early part of the month, my friend Scott died. Cancer. On the same day I got word that more brain surgery is in order. I’ll probably hit the OR stage this coming summer. Joy.

Bad news didn’t stop me from offering useful tips and general advice.

One good death this year—that despicable, fucking war criminal Henry Kissinger. About fucking time that ratfucking bastard croaked!

December

Cold weather/cold heart? Nope. I’m just well wired for survival.

Balls…really, WTF? It’s clear that god was either drunk when he/she sketched out the man plans OR had spilled coffee all over the schematics and didn’t bother to review and redraw before sending out to the manufacturer.

Not that December was different than any other month BUT, in this last month of ‘23, Texas decided to win the title of cruelest, most tiny dicked, inhumane pro-death state of all time.

And that was some of the year that wuz.

Make your mistakes, take your chances, look silly, but keep on going. Don’t freeze up.
~ Thomas Wolfe