How did they find out?

It seems that every time I check my g-mail there are 15 new messages. Of course, 12 of them are spam; and the other three tend to be my DVD service notifying me that they have received the movies we sent back. The other 12, however, seem really motivated by the size of my Johnson.

Now, I don't know who may have referred these pushy folks in their attempts to have me buy substances which may, or may not, improve the surface area of certain organs; but I really would have rather they just stand in the urinal next to me and stare.

Speaking of urinals... I hate public restrooms. Doing my business while other people are hanging around just makes me nervous. Luckily I have identified the restrooms at work which have a small likelihood of being occupado. Hillcrest elementary school has the best. Just in case your in town and looking for a nice solitary place to whizz.

As far as genitals go... I wish that Americans were not, in general, so scared of theirs. Everything which suggests that sexual openness is okay or "normal" is shunned as liberal, and thus, worthy of poo-poing. The longer I am out of the mainstream, the less intelligent the mainstream appear to be. I like my genitals. I like others genitals too. I won't stare at the urinal, but I always hope that you are making the most of your personal time.

We are such a prudish, self-righteous, nation. What happened to the old, "each to his own" philosophy? Why do some worry so much what "other" consenting adults are doing in the confines of thier own bedrooms? I'd be willing to bet good money that if religous leaders yanked their own chains a little more often, that they would worry less about how often I am yanking mine.

Now, if you will excuse me I have some personal business to take care of. Keep your eyes on the wall.

HH

Longing for not-longing...

Been a bit strange lately... Work has simply picked me up, blown me around,and made me dizzy as hell. One moment I am just administering a standardized measure, and the next I am listening to another child coldly verbalize his/her (usually her) experience being brutalized by a bishop, step-father, or mother's boyfriend. There has been a bit of habituation to seeing the healing scars on thier arms, wrists, and ankles. It just doesn't phase me anymore.

My ears have been ringing, and my head has been fuzzy. An audiologist friend finally diagnosed me with "severe eustation tube dysfunction." A 30-day round of steroids and prescription decongestants... just thrilling. Wonder when/if it will end?

I am blessed by nature to have an incredible family. My wife is supportive and loving. My children are bright and kind. The changing of the color of leaves brings bliss to me. My financial situation is VERY positive (BTW invest in LUK).

Is life just a battle between extremes and moderation? Is the dichotomy just a coincidence? It seems that I have lived my life in bliss, and depression (youth); or, in moderation and peace. Peace is better. Strange days indeed.

Sorry I haven't posted much lately. I have been keeping up with my blog reading though.

HH

Awed...

IT has been rather humbling to read the web of late. Shane and Counterintuitive have seemed to been especially inspired to scribble prose which, by any standard, seem to elucidate the most tender parts of the human experience. I am touched with the thought of how much words may be used like musical notes.

It seems that words, put on the proper order... sing to me. There is a rhythm which, like fine music, mezmorizes the reader. It goes beyond inspiration. It simply touches the heart, soul, spirit, being... call it what you will, in a way which transcends the meaning of language. And, which, when invoked by the inspired hand, changes the mood of the reader.

Times like those are reminiscent of the elation experienced after long periods of meditation. When the mind is quiet, desire is gone, and the bodily and mental health are in perfection. It seems the confines of the waking world, for a moment, blend with the world in my dreams. And, so, the other may capture this trance-like state and blend the depth of reality with the sphere of ethereal whimsy. Its interesting how only through disconnection with self one is able obtain greater connection with all else.

MY daughter is having a birthday this week. No longer a pre-teen she is growing into a woman. Funny... she ages, and I get older. She and her brother will soon be gone. Off to university life, marriage, and families of thier own. Geeezzz. little more disconnection would be nice. Better go read ya'lls blogs.

HH =)