A glass of vodka, a shot of Tequila and a beer won’t turn you into Hemingway no matter how badly you miss the shooting the bear outside your door.
Can’t drink a six pack and catch a trout at the local fishing hole and pretend to be the man either and that assumes you believe him to be a talented writer.
All you can do is find your own voice and trust that you can scream and or howl with pain and the reliably unreliable folks will make fail to acknowledge you because they won’t open doors that have been closed for anything other than their own needs.
They’ll watch you drown and maybe even shed a tear from a distance but you won’t have a clue any of that is happening unless you happen to create a full eclipse or cause a major earthquake.
Sometimes You’ll Catch Them Staring
Sometimes you might catch them staring at you but they won’t admit or acknowledge such a thing because that might crack their facade of control.
That might help you realize they do care and they wish for more and even make you feel better but they’ll never admit a thing.
Until they do.
And though you know that day will invariably come you never know when it might happen. It is impossible to predict so either wait or move on knowing one day they’ll take you by the hand.
One day they’ll do their best to manipulate you into opening up and giving them an opportunity to tell you how very wrong they were and how much they miss you.
Maybe you’ll be open to it and maybe you won’t.
That is the joy of being human, you never really know when you’ll forgive and forget someone for being a jerk and when you won’t.
The most fascinating part is who gets the privilege to mess with your head and who doesn’t.
Some people will walk right in and others will never get past the front door.
Blot Out The Sun
Some people say the coming eclipse is having an affect upon people and that it is making the unreliable reliable and the reliable unreliable.
I can’t tell you if any of that is true or if the reason so many people are acting nuts is because of the nuts in leadership.
Can’t say if the chaos is why so many are splitting up or if the splitting up is causing the chaos.
It would be nice to blame the crap flinging monkeys worldwide cameo on chaos in the heavens because it would presumably provide a time and date for a resumption of sanity.
But that sort of faith is tied into a belief that others won’t watch you drown and experience dictates they most certainly will.
I suppose if you convinced them you could blot out the sun they might hesitate to watch for fear of what and how you would respond.
Three or four more drinks won’t provide answers or clarity to that particular question. All it will do is help you figure out if you are as old and horrid looking as pictures make you appear to be.
They also might help you determine that having moved the six pack from your belly to an eight pack upon your chin is fashionable.
Might as well start trying to convince yourself that is so because otherwise you’ll feel guilty about the calories in the 27 drinks you had.
Initially you might have thought toasting the departed was a good way to honor them but ultimately you’ll conclude that having two people die almost one top of the other is a great way to drink more than you should.
Especially knowing that morning comes far too soon and with it will be an overseer who will punish you for the sin of pretending you’re not a horrible old man in dire need of exercise and a diet.
Thing is those deaths serve as a good reminder things could always be worse, so staple your lips shut and go for a run you dumb bastard.
Really, put down the donut and stop making excuses. You either lose the weight or work on breaking the 500 pound mark.
No need to let people call you husky, might as well fight for much more offensive and descriptive words.
And thus ends the thread of Jack The Baloney man.