Sunday, August 26, 2007


I've spent heaps of money, throughout my lifetime, and it is scary to think about the amount of material goods purchased throughout the world for the sake of happiness.

'Maybe that sofa will fill the void?' or 'How about a Corvette for the 50th birthday?'

I remember a saying to the effect of 'You'll never know true happiness until you have kids'. Bullocks to that nonesense! I'd rather go to a shooting range while yelling out 'Yippie-kay-yay Motherfuckers' before squeezing an object the size of a watermelon out of my uterus.

Then I had kittens, well not had but obtained through a orphan/foster program (VORKA):



[And all is now right in the world.]

I woke up Saturday morning, slightly hungover from Strongbow the night before, but I woke up happy. To my right, snuggled up beside me was Mike. To his right, Lola. And on my left, curled up into a ball that looks only comfortable for cats to do, was Moses.

I had a family.

I've been terribly homesick this summer for the family I have back East. But as my life passed by this summer, I had neglected to consider the family I had developed here. No amount of money, material goods or useless objects could fulfill the human desire to love & to be loved. Of course, I'm not saying to go out and fill your house with kittens - but just take a look at what you have around you and ask "Do I really need or appreciate all of this?" And you'll find that much of what you own has no need attach. [Environmental note: poor consumer choices directly contribute to overflowing landfills]

Anyway, here is a song that I love: "Your 8th Birthday" by Cloud Cult. I like to change the words around and make the song applicable to those I love.

Who could hang a dead man's swing-set from the moon?

Yeah you did, then you gave it to the ghosts and the witches

Who can say goodbye with a yodel-ay-hee-hoo?

Yeah you did, with the promise, that the dead are now magicians

Kayden, Kayden

This hymn rings with the singing of 'Three cheers for the king of the jungle gym'

He's the kid whose sword it is a one handshake, a birthday cake invitation

You make traffic jams feel like parades

You bury the dead with the faith that makes lightning bugs swarm as if it was graduation

Who could change your silly life into a screaming supernova? You do

Who could change my sleepy brain into the eye of a hurricane?


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