Flotsam and Jetsam
This is my brain. This is my brain on a random Google tangent. It likes to take these flights of fancy and just keep on going.
If you want your search results to all be within the last 24 hours, then use Noogle.
If you are searching about ghosts, Boogle.
There’s a lot of false information on the internet. For only true and factual results, Troogle.
If you need more information about the Hebrew culture, Joogle.
For only search results about the Blue Man Group, Bloogle.
Wondering what kind of glue is best for the job? Gloogle.
If you only need results relating to brass horns or sickness symptoms and remedies, Floogle.
Need to find the cheapest online pricing? Froogle.
Want only results about cows, Moogle.
Find the nearest public restroom with Loogle.
Need a lawyer? Soogle.
Want results that are positively affirming? WOOgle!
Train schedules? Choogle.
What’s that smell? Pyoogle.
Oh, that’s what that smell is. Where did that fecal matter come from? Poogle.
Interested in all our planets animal species? Zoogle.
Dating sites? Twoogle.
Spoon collector? Spoogle.
Need new footwear? Shoogle.
Need to hire people for you new crab boat? Croogle.
Trying to solve a mystery? Cloogle.
Mr T’s favorite search engine? Foogle.
Hopping marsupials? Kangaroogle.
Info on the bands playing this year? Bonnaroogle.
People directory? Whoogle.
Want to see what’s on the internet about you? Yoogle.
Want search nothing but 5-7-5 syllable poems? Haikoogle.
I can’t stop. And after reading this, you probably won’t be able to either. I’m sorry.
Discourse On My Discombobulation With Most Men’s Seeming Obsession With Obtaining the Forbidden (Or Wassup With The Anal Sex?)1
I’ll probably have my “man card” revoked for this. Well, who are we kidding, my “man card” was probably revoked long ago for a multitude of reasons. Like using “discombobulated” or owning and wearing a red velvet shirt among countless others. I don’t care, it’s time for the truth to be out there. This is a discussion that needs to happen. Well, “needs” may be a bit strong, but it’s going to happen anyway.
I have no desire, whatsoever, to have anal sex. I’m open. I’m not bland and unexciting (then again, I guess that’s not for me to judge), but I just don’t get it. That is an orifice that is designed to be a waste exit. The sphincter is there specifically to be a traffic cop and keep things sealed tight. Plus, just next door, women have these wonderful things called “vaginas.” They are warm, self-lubricating. Accepting and welcoming a penis is one of their specialties. And yet so many men seem almost obsessed with “getting in the back door” to the point where it’s revered as some kind of holy grail, some “rusty sheriff’s badge” of honor. Something to celebrate when achieved or to ask for on special occasions or as a reward. Of course, I’m generalizing here and I don’t mean to paint all men with the same brush and I’m also specifically talking about us heterosexual men.
Look, even if you want to change it up, there’s mouths, hands, a veritable sexual cornucopia to be had, but no, so many men seem laser focused on “riding the Hershey highway.” I think part of this is the very fact that maybe you’ve been told you’re not supposed to go there, or that many women don’t want it there and yet so many men seem to have some primal animal instinct to want to do that which they are not supposed to do or are told they can’t do. I believe that this is the same reason that men can be with a wonderful, gorgeous, sexy woman, and they still stray and cheat like douchebags wearing ass-hats. The whole “thrill of the chase” stupidity. Yet I’ve never heard of someone really wanting to put it in the crook of an elbow, or knee. Don’t get me wrong, purely by the odds I’m sure it’s happened and that there’s probably a sub-Reddit for it. In fact it seems that throughout history men have most likely tried to put it everywhere it’s not “supposed” to go. Animals, pies, probably most melons. It’s a dark hole I don’t really want to explore…pun intended.
I have known some women who say that they themselves genuinely enjoy it very much, and in that case, great. What happens between two consenting adults is fine. I’m not condemning it as an act itself, I’m just saying that I don’t get the obsession with it and especially if your partner does not want it. But then again, I’m the kind of person who likes a mutual good time for all. It’s not some great and rare artifact to be sought after like “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Poo.” It doesn’t make you a conquering hero. It’s the human exhaust pipe. It’s a garbage chute. And we all know what happens when you go down garbage chutes. You get drenched in muck, the walls start closing in and there are slimy creatures that try to pull you under. Have we learned nothing from Star Wars?
I’m not sure what my point is, really but if you’re going to be all freaked out because someone was using their iPad in a bathroom stall (this doesn’t bother me in the least), then you most certainly shouldn’t want to put any of your body parts into a waste disposal unit. If you gag when cleaning that hairball out of your sink, but then really want the wife to give up the “chocolate starfish,” then maybe you should think a little harder on that one.
Ah wait! I think I found my point! If everyone involved is cool with it, then great, “take it to brown town.” Just stop it with the wanting what you can’t or shouldn’t have. It’s ridiculous. Instead, maybe put that energy into appreciating and recognizing what you do have.
After getting myself a new improved Indiana Jones Jacket recently, it made me think: He wears this thing in the jungles of South America and the deserts of Egypt? Now, true, it was made of a very light leather (much lighter than you would think), but it’s still a dark leather jacket.
The caption at the opening simply says “South America 1936”. The Amazon basin has an average year round temperature of 80 degrees Fahrenheit (26.6 Celcius) with 90% humidity making for a heat index of 86F (30C) though the largest region (the Brazilian region) averages from 80F to 90F (26.6-32.2C) and again, the humidity will make it feel much warmer. Now true, the night time can be cool, again made to feel cooler by the humidity, but if he’s going on a trek after a fertility idol during the day, I would think he’d leave the jacket.
The Egypt scenes are a bit more plausible because when we see him walking around during the day, he does not have his jacket. The first time we see him wear it in Egypt is at night when he goes after the ark. Then he gets trapped in the Well of Souls by Belloq, and by the time he escapes it’s day again (which doesn’t seem to add up to me either, not to mention that he “escapes” by pushing out a loose stone that exits right next to an airfield the Nazis are using and yet they never checked what was in there…), and from there gets on a horse and goes after the truck with the ark on it. So I can buy that the desert gets cool at night and he wasn’t planning on wearing it during the day but then got stuck with through circumstance but even then he could have left it with Sallah and Marion before running off after the ark. That thing had to be hot in the Egyptian sun.
Lastly, I don’t know what kind of garment cleaning procedures they had in 1936, but that thing had to be pretty rank. I know how bad it can be just to be in the car with myself after an outdoor band gig, much less gallivanting around the Egyptian sun in wool pants, a long sleeve cotton shirt, Leather shoes, felt fedora and a lambskin leather jacket. I think the scene on the submarine where Marion is helping him undress and lay down in bed would have been more like, “Here, let’s get you…OH, GOD, JONES! You REEK! Do they have a shower on this sub? I mean, I’m all for sexy time but how about we begin in the shower?”
I started doing hot yoga at Sunstone Yoga a couple of years ago. I bought a a bunch of shorts and tank tops made for working out, made of “Duo-dry” material to wick the sweat away, I guess. Of course in hot yoga you end up completely drenched so there no amount of wicking in the world that can help you. Over the years there were maybe a few times when I just felt so hot or uncomfortable that I removed my shirt. Now, there are lots of guys who don’t wear shirts in class. Seems pretty common, but I always preferred to wear one, both out of consideration for the rest of the class who might catch a glimpse of my hairy and flabbier-than-I-would-like torso being contorted and compressed, despite their best efforts to just concentrate on their own practice, and because my own insecure body image issues.
However, a few weeks ago I had a turning point. I showed up to class and realized I’d accidentally grabbed 2 pairs of shorts instead of shorts and a shirt so my choices were to either just skip class and go home or do class shirtless. I found that not only was I much more comfortable but that I could concentrate on my practice much better as I wasn’t being distracted by a sopping wet, bunching up shirt. At that moment, I decided to try life as a shirtless yoga dude. Since then, I have definitely confirmed my experience and accepted my new role. It’s also been a good mental exercise on not caring what other people think (about my body or my choice to go shirtless) and to do what’s best for my own yoga practice and experience.
I still try to position myself in the back right corner though, out of consideration for my other yogis.
I was out taking a walk tonight, enjoying the cool, post rain air when toward the end of my walk, I experienced something strange, cool and wonderful. Suddenly as I looked at the trees around me, I saw them as living things, the same way you would see an animal. I had the urge to touch them (and I did) like you would a horse. It put the biggest smile on my face. The rest of my walk home, I was surrounded by welcoming, guarding friends.
No, I’m not on drugs. Call me weirdo, new-agey hippie or whatever. My tree friends will have sex in your nose and make you feel miserable (I apologize on their behalf if this happens regardless of what you do or do not call me…I’m fairly positive they have no control of it).
Just started tray 10. Almost 1/3 done! Not much new to say. Getting a new bottom tray in is still a struggle over that one problem tooth, but I can now get the trays out fairly easily with just my hands, even on the first day of a new tray! That’s nice. I already like the way I look so much better. I’ve adjusted to life with Invisalign now and it all just seems the norm. The production of eating and carrying my “kit” everywhere I go with my Invisalign case, Sonicare tooth brush, toothpaste, a little bottle filled with Listerine, and my “chew toy” that they give to chew on to make sure the trays are really seated as well as possible, though I only usually use it when I first put in a new tray. The rest of the time I seem to get them seated plenty well with just my fingers. At my last checkup, they said everything was tracking well and that I obviously was wearing mine all the time like I was supposed to.
Damn right! I didn’t pay $6,000 to half ass it and I want the best results as fast as possible!
This having a full time job is really inhibiting how much I can do in pursuit of my actual passions so I’m putting out the call for a Patron. In times past there were patrons who would support artists so they could devote their time to producing art. I think that I’m a talented musician and actor and would strive mightily to be worthy of your patronage.
I know that there are people in the world for whom $30,000 a year is negligible. Barely noticeable. For me, that is a good living. So if there’s any wonderful patrons out there who like to make more of a difference in my life than words can express by donating $30k a year to the Heath Allyn Artistic Endeavors fund, that would be as good to me as winning the lottery. I could then put all my efforts into my art and making the world a more enjoyable place through my music, acting and film making efforts. $30k a year to make my dreams come true and in turn allow me to move people through my art.
My “social inertia” as I call it, or hermit like tendency to be a loner and not leave my cave is one of my more baffling psychological traits to me. Today I get an invitation from one of my best friends, who I love hanging out with and who always recharges my soul, to go an event that I kind of wanted to go to any way, and yet still a part of brain actually considers declining to just stay home by myself and do nothing special.
I did accept the invitation but I can’t understand why there was any reaction other than “Hell yeah!” I seriously wonder if I have some kind of psychological condition or something.
I started tray 6 this week. It’s mostly been more of the same but I think I’ve finally found my method for tray removal that works best for me (everyone will be different depending on your teeth and attachment placement). It’s definitely gotten much better. I remember when taking a new tray out was such a pain, that I would sometimes just drink a protein shake through a straw for at least the first meal after putting a new tray in but these last two trays popped out much easier, even on the first meal after starting them. Again, I always put a new tray in after my last meal of the day to give me maximum time before having to take it out again. It’s definitely far easier after 10-12 hours than it is after 2 hours.
I still experience some soreness for a day or two but even that seems not as bad as before. Tray 6 is the first tray I’ve managed to get in and out without chipping the tray edge over my “problem tooth,” I’m guessing partially because of getting better at finding ways to get them in and out and partially because maybe that tooth has moved enough that it’s not as much a problem any more. I almost always use the “outie” tool just to pop the tray off that one problem tooth.
I think I may actually be able to see some minimal difference aesthetically at this point as well! 20% done!