Yeah, don't really know what I'm doing...

But who does when they're blogging.  Seriously, nothing is serious on the internet! :)

But this does come from a rather serious framework, right now, anyway.  I hear all the time, 'when do you plan on quitting smoking?'  My first instinct is to say, "When you're dead and buried, now shut it, you son of a bitch!"  But it's usually after my first drag, so it's a little more laid back than that; something more like "when I'm good and ready, you son of a bitch!"

Ok, so it's a terrible habit, possibly worse to quit than heroine--I don't know, I never tried to quit heroine...

BUT... I've dealt with the elderly and I've seen the before and after pictures, and I can't help but wonder, what are we saving ourselves for?  I cannot look forward to a future of retirement (yay) when I'm gray-haired, stumbling around with arthritis and gout, and then Alzheimer's, with arthritis and gout...  And say, hey, this is awesome!  It's not.  It's old age, it sucks.  It's great that you've seen your family go through times both awesome and hard, but really, why would anyone want this!?!

Let me paint you all the truth, your food shall be presented to you in milkshake form!  While this may have sounded cool to the Jetsons--those damn, dirty Swedes (-sen = Norwegian; -son = Swede), this does mean all food forms will be given to you in a milkshake, or at least a puree.  Which means, that great texture of steak you love so much is gone.  Nevermind if it doesn't taste the same, that will happen as you lose your taste and smell (which old age takes from you first).  The form it comes to you in will be more reminiscent of baby food than anything else.

Anyone else looking forward to retirement?  It pretty much blows.  The only benefit is you can just have one video in your library, and it will be something new, everyday.

First Real Post?

Well, here I am.

I'll do some explaining, the old question is always what's the difference between jelly and jam?  Answers are numerous: jelly has no fruit in it, jelly doesn't shake like that, and one cannot jelly certain parts of anatomy up other parts of anatomy... but that's really not what we're here to deal with right now.

This is the first rant (of the new year, even, too!).  I like dream catchers, even have one myself.  They're wonderfully useless pieces of crap that can be added as some decoration to your room, next to the Enya poster, with the mythos behind it of some kind of half-baked superstition.  ...One could doubt if these things have ever really had a ritual purpose--my head of research is on that now.  Yet, I've seen them in some place I never, EVER want to see them: the rear view mirror of the car.

If you need a dream catcher in your car, there are bigger problems at stake than nightmares; and possibly even bigger than that bottle of half killed Wild Turkey under the passenger seat, which may or may not have just been purchased yesterday.  If anyone happens to enter a car with a dream catcher in it, I recommend taking a cab, or walking, or simply taking the wheel from your narcoleptic chauffeur.  Otherwise, you'll need that bottle under your seat.  "It steadies the nerves," my uncle once told me, loading his rifle, before taking my old dog to that farm he loves so much.

Preamble

I have too much free time, an overactive mind, a sarcastic ass like quality, and I think my cat's better than yours.  So, I started a blog.  Welcome to madness, this is Jelly v. Jam.