Passwords and farts and stuff.

This is supposed to be a blog of important things like farts and human gas and other kinds of gas, but I am unable to comply because this stupid system will only allow me a certain number of pix, and this it.

But only some 0.9 persons read this blog anyway, so what do I care?

So with a stroke that virtually obliterates half your mind, I am hardly able to remember my own hands let alone any one of a thousand passwords you might use. Passwords are a pain at the best of times.

Try remembering another person's password. It is not easy to do. Now multiply that by 10 and try to rememer those. Then you might get an idea what my life is like. I have to try and do what you take for granted. It is a life of Pleasure, Pain and Passwords.

Banking. Computing. Phoning. More. These are all basic things essential to everyday life. These are things I can no longer do by myself. I just don't have the brainpower anymore. What used to work as sharp as a tack before no longer works.

Sometimes I can barely remember my own name. But I can remember once farting on a hockey bench as a kid for eight seconds, which is a world record in my books. And I recently visited the beef farm of the husband and wife of my betrothed-to-be.

It was smelly and there was a lot of methane gas around, I'm sure.

Homo Escapeons

Well, not everyone. But Donnnnnnnnn with about 100 n's does. Because I am truly the wonder of his life. Well, except for his Lovely wife and their young son -- and just about every other human been on thr planet.

I don't know why I took a pic of this guy on TV. Maybe because like Donnnnnn, he is virtually insane.

These pix are actually in inverse order. But with Donnnnnnnnnn, it rarely matters.

I have no idea what this picture is. But I'll be lucky if one person reads this anyway.

Here is Donnnnnnnnn, continued.

Ha! Ha! Ha! Dope.

No. HERE he is REALLY being a DOPE. Believe it or not, he is NOT drunk.

Here either. That sqeezie character that looks like him is for me to strengthen my hand muscle on my stroke-ridden right side.

This is him, exercising his LEFT side. Look away, Ridley!

Dolt.

Forcebook

Well, for some reason I as usual would have to be Einstein to explain, I can't put any more pix on here. Being one who apparently can't see the forest for the trees anyway, I should confess I no longer do much Farcebooking.

I can't stand the shallowness of it, to be honest. But knock yourselves out. I have just decided that humans are far more complex creatures than that. Of course the advertisers on there want you to be as stupid as possible.

I realize that at heart, we want all to do what the next person is doing. For a while, it was blogging. Now it's Farcebooking. Who knows what it will be several months from now?

That's what all the marketing weenies are trying to figure out now. Where we go, the advertisers follow. And where the advertisers are, that's where companies want to be, delirious with the thought of our money.

The Force be with you.

Pepee Le Pew

Despite how funny or ridiculous or mussed up I look, I actually got engaged recently to the most beautiful girl in the universe, and I promised her that I would publish no pictures of her on my blog.

But I didn't say anything about her ring! I promise not to say anything about her two gorgeous sisters, or the husband of one of them who took us out to meet and commiserate with all their cows.

And all their calves and mosquitoes.

And Hobbes The Wonder Cat who loved me and other animals and creatures and things.

Now on to run of the mill things, like getting engaged.


Aye, aye aye aye, I am The Frito Bandito!
I drove my fiance crazy with that song. But Hobbes loved it.

I apologize for almost all the pix being out of focus. Apparently taking pix is far from one of my strengths. Doh!

Try the focus, Doofus!

My hand and her hand...
HER hand...it's ALWAYS about the FEMALE!

Now that we're in the car, it's only PARTIALLY about her...

Here, it's MORE about me...but it's STILL about her...

AAHHH!!! How will I ever stand it????!!!!!