blind text

OK! I will give the people what they want.  I mean... I can't give you money, but I will let you in.  I will share some extremely personal life details here that probably wont make me look very good (to the ladies).  I am not trying to look good for dudes though.  Alright.  Get that straight, but some of the guys will identify with me on this.  I hope.  I can't be sure.

The names are made up, but this story is 100% real.  It began this week and is currently ongoing.  It is 10:15pm on a Friday.  I am sitting in my recliner with my boiling (lava hot) laptop lowering my sperm count and attempting to explain how I am a huge wuss.  Let me also explain that I am not upset about the lowered count as I am not trying to impregnate anyone at the moment. 

This is tough.
I have to make some jokes to maintain respect from my male peers.
I have to seem sincere enough to gain support from my female readership. 
I have to stay focused...

Long story short - Too Late!

My friend, Queen Amidala wanted to set me up with a friend of hers.  Shew wanted me to go out with her friend, Jennifer Aniston. 

It's my story!  Deal with it. 

Queen Amidala called me up and gave me Jen's number over the phone.  She said that I should call her and ask  her out for diner on Saturday.  Amidala was a tad bit impatient.  She refused to text me Jen's number and I had to react quickly so I grabbed a pen and began to transcribe the number as it was dictated to me.  I wasn't going to remember it.  Who can remember 7 digits?  I wanted the text because I knew that a text would be much harder to loose.  I am also lazy and finding a pen AND PAPER didn't really fit into my schedule. 

I wrote Jen's number on my hand. 
I showered moments later. 
I forgot about the invaluable (see previous blog) digits I had written on the back of my hand and they were lost.  That was Wednesday.  Fast forward to today and we can discuss the challenges that I faced a few moments ago. There is no discussion really.  I guess I should say, "I will write about the challenges that I..."  You get the point, but I wouldn't be saying that I would be writing. 

Long story short - Too late.

A few minutes ago, I confessed to Amidala that I had lost the most precious number sequence she had ever given me.  She was not pleased with me to say the least, but she gave me Jen's number once again and insisted that I call her immediately.  I absolutely could not.  That's not what I said, of course,  but its the truth.  I decided a text message would suffice. 

I had never met this girl. 
I had never seen her picture.
I had no idea if she would be interested in me. 
She hadn't met me.
Seen me.
Heard my voice.
All I really know is that Amidala wants me to call Jen and I do what I am told...sort of.

YIKES! 

A text would be best.  This is a new era.  This is a new age.  Women are strong and independent and they scare the crap out of me. I shall compose a text, but what do I write?

 ACTUAL TEXT DRAFTS

Hi. This is ronstop. Queen Amidala gave me your number.  Would you like to have diner sometime?
I didn't like that one.  I sound like a dork.  I am pretty sure this is a bad idea.

Hey Jen. Amidala said I should call you but I can't cause I am a huge tool.

Sometimes honesty isn't the best policy.  I am sure this is a bad idea. 

Hi Jennifer.  This is ronstop.blogspot.  Queen Amidala gave me your number.  Can I call you sometime?

I think its quite obvious that I won't have to worry about impregnating anyone anytime soon. Way too formal and passive.  I need to take charge and be more confident.

Hi.  This is ronstop.  DTF? 

Maybe a tad bit too aggressive. 

Hey. This is Ronstop.  I got your number from Queen Amidala.  I would like to call you sometime.  Let me know when you are free if you would like to talk.
That was the actual text.  The really real actual text.  I got tired of anguishing over the perfect language and just hit send.  This is certainly a bad idea.  We will see how it goes.

Oh boy.  My first impression will be via text.  I will tell you that it sounds way better than sputtering out sentence fragments and stumbling over verbal communication.  Sorry, Jen.  You are getting a text...and a blog apparently.  We may have to speak eventually, but it wont be today.

Worth a thousand words

I hope you can read this.  Otherwise I am just wasting my time. 
Now I am just wasting yours. 
Don't read this hoping to gain insight into the human condition.
Don't read this if you have anything to do.  This is not useful in any way. 

I am only kidding of course.  I don't write my thoughts down so that I can read them.  That would be silly.  I write these thoughts down so that others might know what it is like to be in my head. 
I don't suggest wearing your good shoes though.  They are likely to be muddy after trouncing around in there. 
Don't wear your good pants either. 
Don't wear your lucky shirt.
Don't wear your derby hat...interesting.  Why do you have a derby hat?

I want you to read.  Read on!  Tell a friend.  Tell them where nonsense lives. 
You see!  You see!  Right there.  Nonsense is a noun, yes...but it isn't alive.  Nonsense only lives if I tell it to and if you believe it.  The words are right there in front of you and they don't really mean that much, but you have an unshakable image of yourself with muddy feet on a slippery slope wearing an unusually large hat.  You press your hand against something, but you don't feel safe because its sticky.  You want to move but you can't.  You endure the ickiness because you fear what might happen if you don't brace yourself inside of there.

...Keep in mind that you are wearing your lucky shirt.

I...You...We all use language to define and describe our daily lives to each other.  It's funny how words can mean so little or so much and it all depends on how it is used. 

I will refer you back to "nonsense". Synonyms are: Balderdash, Moonshine, Absurdity and Twaddle (SOMEONE FOUND A NEW FAVORITE WORD BTW).

If you shout to your friends, "Hey, Ronstop wants to tell you where Twaddle lives." 
They might think that Ronstop is some kind of pervert. 
Or that he believes in magic, trolls, wizardry, Middle Earth and whatnot. 
I am and I do believe in those things, but that's not the point.  The point is that I feel like nonsense will manifest itself in many ways.  Its most common manifestation (for me) is that of a sprite-like creature standing about 2 feet tall, drinking beer, playing tricks and is hard to catch.  Yeah, I know it sounds like a leprechaun, but the thought of a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is nonsense.  Isn't it?

There is a balance with language...there is always an opposite...kind of.  Language is balderdash.

With "up" there is "down"
"promoted" and "demoted"
"love" and "hate"

"Insane" is the counterpart to "sane"
But why is "invaluable" worth more than "valuable"?
To "incarcerate" means to imprison, but "carcerate" is not a word and "prison" is.

One can only be "reborn" after they have been "born", but I have been "rejected" many times without having once been "jected" (to my knowledge).

There. Their. They're.
To. Two. Too.

Do I have time to address sarcasm?  I shall call it God's greatest gift of confusion.  How amazing is it to say one thing, but to purposely mean something completely different?  It's great, right?  Now say it sarcastically. 
"Thank you for that little tidbit of absurdity, God.  This won't get me in trouble at all.  My mother will appreciate this more than anyone"  Said the boy just before he was sent to his room and simultaneously struck by lighting for having just used a "TONE" with the Lord our God. 

"What 'tone'?" said the boy in a voice that was just a smidgen too patronizing.
"You know the tone." Said God as he smote the boy once more with an inevitable second bolt of lightning.  Then God smiled and contemplated whether or not anyone on Earth had ever used the word "evitable".

I will tell you that there are exactly one thousand words in this blog.  Clever, huh?  Not here...but at the end.  I am stretching it to 1,000 now is all I am doing.  I figure it will be more meaningful this way.  Nothing left to say except that I doubt very highly that there is a picture somewhere in the universe that can sum up these incoherent ramblings.  And I am certain that if there were such a picture, you wouldn't want to look upon it for fear of sacrilege and blasphemy and lightning bolts. 

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then what are words worth?  Not these words.  Others probably.  Other thoughtful words. 

oh, and I didn't count the words.  I've got shit to do.