I am Geoff. I host SomaCow, a show where I talk about everything with my friends, Mickey, J, and Ross. They are great guys, intelligent, funny, flawed, and it sure would be a shame were I to die, and not know them anymore. If I am to live, then I need to change.
I have rarely prayed in this life. Only for things I could not control, had no power over, or wanted desperately to get out of. Don’t Take the Girl, Feed Jake, Man, I Hope She Isn’t Pregnant type stuff. Real country music haw yee.
Maybe that comes with an astoundingly shallow belief in God. Oh, I believe someone made all this, I just wonder sometimes at the reasoning, and perhaps the motives. But then who am I to judge?
I suffer from Conan Logic.
For those of you born in Brandon, Florida, allow me to explain.
Conan was a barbarian child, with a good mother and father. Marauding religious douchebags came and slew his family and enslaved him. The religion was called Divorce.
Conan spent years dully pushing a massive mill wheel, grinding futilely away, day after day. The wheel’s name was School.
Conan learned that he could enjoy camaraderie, riches, and the finer things in life by fighting. Day after day, he took on all comers, and with each vanquished foe, he grew in status, and banged more chicks. His battles were in the style of Drugs, Alcohol, and Excess.
Conan earned what he had, enjoyed the immediacy of things desired, and rarely exhibited patience. If a camel or a horse annoyed him, he punched them in the face with his fist. The camels and horses all worked as cashiers and service personnel.
At one point, Conan is asked what is best in life. His answer is, “Crush the enemies, See them driven before you, Hear the lamentation of their women.”
There was a time where that answer worked for me. Nail those who need nailing to the wall upon which nailing is done.
Unfortunately, I was never as cool as Conan. My mantra might have been something like, “Be snarky, Yell at Brighthouse employees, Overtip at a buffet”
Or maybe, “Play some video games, smoke a bunch of cigarettes, kill ten Double Krystals with Cheese”
But really, “Wheeze when you pee, Fail to perform in the sack, Look like you are about to burst, generally”
I have gone right off this analogy.
The point is, Conan is a fucking allegory for what man is, a boy corrupted by his environment; what tarnished him eventually tempered him, and through his trials and losses and curses and adversity, he emerged as a pretty buff dude with a decent set of morals, for a thief.
I’m tired, but my beans are making me feel incredible. Did I tell you the secret to beans already? I think I did. They really are a superfood. The difference in how I feel is incredible. The secret is to soak them overnight in fresh filtered water, never cook them too fast, and always use plenty of homemade stock to cook them.
I walked around Lowe’s and Home Depot this evening, looking for materials for a project. I currently have a few open projects, I realized.
1. Clean the porch, utterly.
2. Sell the books and other crap, utterly
3. Locate and begin the pond, goddamnit
4. Design and build the Advent Dome, yo
5. Till the soil for the garden, and plant some em effing cabbages, yeah
Lots to do, and I have next week off. Where should I start? Task me, You!
By the way, let me teach you a secret about till and ’til.
A till is still, ’til you ask for the bill. You till ’til dusk, or until your back tilts.
See? “til”, is really just a short, “until”. A TILL is either the place a business keeps cash, or a verb describing soil readying. So stop saying “I blew dudes till the cows came home.”
It’s just silly.
See? Grammar, Movie Talk, and Choose the Fatty’s Adventure - All for YOU!
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