Tag Archives: adventure

Lion Burgers and Life Long Regrets

“Damn it. Why didn’t I eat that donkey burger that was offered to me when I had that layover in Hong Kong?” Such a question is one that I doubt comes to mind when someone is spread eagle on their death bed, staring at the glittery pop-corn (or mirrored?) ceiling, conscious of their last moments on this earth. But what about lion, tiger, or skunk burger instead?*** You never know what people may regret depending on what geographical location they reside in. I’ll stick to my American bred, GMO fed, hormone injected, fly dung sautéed, mad cow for now. Maybe Hopefully as punishment, in some future dimension of time, cattle will have me with a side of fries.

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In the meantime, as I adjust my chemically polluted body (We here in California call it “building up an autoimmune tolerance” much like we build up shades of a spray tan.),  I shall wallow in all the things I have not (yet?) done and wish I had done!

1)  Steal (more):  Besides Kristy Massey’s beautiful satin ribbon awarded to her for “most original story” which I stole from her messy desk in 3rd grade (I guess my own story about an octopus that floats across the beach sand ‘cuz he hates getting water up his nose didn’t warrant a book deal at age 10.), I can’t recall stealing anything. Or maybe I can’t recall stealing anything that I felt guilty about enough to remember? Thinking about all the money I could have saved by swiping toilet paper rolls from public restrooms for the last 40 yrs. makes me want to flush myself down the old commode. This is one of the side effects of being “raised right” in a church going family. Well, lock your holy sanctuary’s shitters, ‘cuz I am coming for your tee-pee.

2)  Purchased ridiculous domain names:  Back in the early to mid 90’s, I had the opportunity to purchase http://www.kissmyass.com. Today, it is now just another dull, predictable porn site set up by some asshole who thinks life revolves around his weenie puppet. God has spared all my enemies I guess, because he knows I would have plastered their faces all over that domain. Or maybe they are already there?

3)  Adore snakes:  It is not that I hate snakes. I somehow have not developed a relationship with them that would be considered passionately affectionate. I actually feel snakes and I have some things in common. It’s not their fault they were born freakishly without ears and legs; It’s not my fault I was born without a chin and ear lobes. I sympathize with their plight. Nevertheless, is that enough to love them like I do puppies and unhatched eggs? I’m still working on this one.

A snake kissy-poo. Another reason to love 'em.

A snake kissy-poo. Another reason to love ’em.

4)  Avoid LinkedIn:  As God said to Moses when the prophet ran out of space to chisel the 11th commandment, “Enough said.”

Talk about getting

Talk about getting “hooked up” with a job.

5)  Had a mug shot:  Not sure if I just don’t look deviant or innocent enough to have one or not, but I have yet to be granted this civil privilege. Instead, I’ll take a shot of sake out of my Charlie Brown mug to compensate.

6)  Trip someone: …physically, on purpose, anyhow. I’ve mooned, tit-flashed, flicked boogers, cut, punched, bit, shoved, and even Vulcan-pinched a person. I can’t say why I have avoided this Charlie Chaplin of Bruce Lee moves.

Defensive tripping: Bruce Lee approves.

Defensive tripping: Bruce Lee approves.

7)  Graduated hypnotist school:  Attended? Yes. Graduated? No.

Some creepy hypnotist. One reason to avoid hypnotist school.

Some creepy hypnotist. One reason to avoid hypnotist school.

8)  Built my own canoe:  So I have an excuse to grow a grizzly beard filled with food crumbs and lethal bacteria that could wipe out overly-zealous vegans from Los Angeles to Lower Manhattan. (NOTE: Being born a hairy woman, this is feasible.)

Current canoe builder?

Current canoe builder?

9)  Learn Calculus:  To understand Satan’s poetry, one must speak in numbers, think numbers, breathe numbers, BECOME NUMBERS. Without knowing calculus, I feel I’m a zero. I guess, every Einstein’s got to start somewhere.

...because I don't know what the hell it is.

…because I don’t know what the hell it is.

10) Joined the A-Cyber-Sexual Movement at age 1: I find it deplorable when I realize that no one told me I had the right to declare myself a robot to avoid all human physical contact. So many dickheads I could have avoided, literally.  So many squawking woman preaching to me about what I “could become”… all banished if had just declared myself an “IT”.  But damn it, machines can’t eat burgers…lion, skunk, nor donkey burgers neither. So here’s to being a crazy human instead!!! Lesson: NO Regrets until after lunch.

***Note: No animals were maimed, killed, nor consumed in this post.

Slacker with a Camera: Beaufort, South Carolina

You’d think a bachelors degree in art history and a job working for the Museum of Photographic Arts of San Diego would have convinced me to get a camera that didn’t come out of a gumball machine. Truth be known, I’m not worthy of a decent camera.  I’m too lazy to put any work into taking photos. I snap my pics like I snap my fingers, uno…dos…tres…ok, lets move on. Basically, I just want a record of the essences of the places I visit. The following are images of Beaufort, South Carolina taken by yours truly. And don’t worry, I wont include any of the images I took of my thumb.

This house makes me want to test the paint for lead.

They don’t call it the land of ghostwood for nothing.

There were often dolphins swimming up the Beaufort River…that and uh…

Obviously, the pic above is a pub…hmmm

And you thought your bed was hard.

The best town to send your kid trick or treating at night.

The bank that mogul Ted Turner’s dad probably owned at some point. Last I heard, Ted owned an island all to himself somewhere outside Beaufort, S.C.

And last but not least, the shot that would make Alfred Stieglitz puke in his grave…the “slacker” ghost behind the camera. So much for truth in photography!

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