Mercury Is Broken

So I was talking to my sister yesterday and she was telling me Mercury is in retrograde. I think that’s bs. Mercury should be getting an upgrade by now. That thing is at least a thousand years old. Whatever. I’ll fix it when I run space.

Apparently, the significance of this (other than incompetent space maintenance),  is that everyone gets agitated more easily or annoyed at others for something that normally wouldn’t be annoying.

Then I said to myself, “Hey, you have been getting annoyed a lot more lately.”

Then I said to myself, “Shut up! Why don’t you make yourself useful and go get me some cookies?”

It degraded from there.

After another hour of it, I went to get cookies and thought about it. I mean, after all that arguing, I still just did what I was going to do anyway. It was like even though I wanted to do it and was going to, I didn’t because I told myself to do it. Just to be defiant. Am I the problem? I don’t know. My point is this retrograde thing is kicking my butt.

Maybe Mercury was fine. Probably went in for its first scheduled thousand year maintenance, got the upgrade, made everyone a jerk and now they’re fixing it.

Perhaps I’ve jumped to conclusions on the state of our SMD (Space Maintenance Department). We’ll see. I’ll wait until they finish the retrograde before I make my final judgment, which will be swift and just.

If you’ve been feeling a little more agitated, less like your patient, loving, perfect self that is right all the time while all others around you are wrong and make you mad because of the wrongness of everything they say or do, it’s not your fault. Some tech guy screwed up. It will be fine.

My sister says it’s supposed to last through May, which means we’ll all just have to hang on and not kick each other. That could require some effort. Consider it practice for when Jupiter starts acting up.

I think the best prescription is go to a place where relaxation is effortless. A place where you can’t help but relax. A place where the night sky is so clear you can watch our boys work on Mercury, if nothing for your own peace of mind that it will soon be better.

I happen to know of such a place…

 

It’s Just Science

Studies show that 100% of people are naked when not wearing any type of clothing. It’s true.

My studies reveal all sorts of interesting information, such as 100% of people run on oxygen.

Other interesting revelations are I like blacksmithing shows, gray beard hair grows twice as fast as my normal, flowing, brown beard hair, and I don’t like beans. Of any kind. Maybe refried beans sometimes, but you have to fry beans more than once to get them past these lips.

“Have those beans only been fried once? Ok, listen. I’m going to need you to put some more bacon fat in those before I eat them.”

I’ll admit my studies are lazy and aren’t widely recognized, but unlike many studies, mine reveal facts. And aren’t really debatable. Take that, other studies. My studies are bitchin’ and I get them done with one person. In minutes. I just did those. Just now.

I mean, the gray hair thing took a little time and yeah I had to try all the beans and yeah other people cooked them for me because I would never do it myself or ask for them but I still didn’t need to talk to 1,000 people about it or poke one person with a needle. I don’t have that kind of time. It’s called “efficiency.” Whatever.

Now that I’ve proven, without a doubt, that I am the best scientist in the world, another of my studies reveals that the Dip is one of the most relaxing places in the world. And though I haven’t been all over the world, I’ve met a lot of people who have. And more than once I’ve heard it’s their favorite place in the world. That’s something that’s not said about a kajillion other places. A trajillion.

I hear the weather is getting absolutely perfect right now. I wouldn’t know, I’m in FL cooking all my stuff. And I’m soooo jealous, but not for long.

I read the newsletter (which I always do and you should get if you don’t because it’s always informative and entertaining because I don’t do it, so subscribe) and there’s a ton of great events scheduled.

As much as I’d like to talk to you all day, unfortunately, I have some science to get to. Today we find out which type of screws I don’t have that I need for a project I won’t do, go buy them, throw the bag into a blackhole somewhere and when I finally do decide to tackle said project, not find them,  go buy more screws, toss them in the hole, postpone project, lose screws, buy more, etc.

I find the only way to get a real grasp on the scientific process is through diligently repeating the same test to ensure you’re getting the same result. Anything else would be sloppy. I take behavioral science seriously. Watch. I bet I’ll forget the whole screw thing altogether and watch television because it’s too hot.

I was right. Again. My methods are unconventional, but you can’t deny the accuracy of my hypotheses. More like hypothefact.

So when I say you’ll have an excellent time when you visit the Dip, that’s a hypothefact. And what you’ve just witnessed doesn’t convince you I’m channeling Einstein, then how do you explain his hair trying to take over my face? Ehhh?  Classic channeling. Textbook.

 

 

Spring Fling Music Jam

Have you ever had one of those weeks when you wish we didn’t have weeks? I’m having one of those, but it’s okay. There are good weeks that make the whole week thing seem like an okay idea. I don’t know. I’ll think about it and get back to you.

However, some ideas are so good it doesn’t take a genius to figure out they’re good ideas. Let me give you an example: Air. That was brilliant. Exactly what we needed. Can you imagine what it was like before air?

But that was hundreds of years ago, and now we can focus on present ideas. The best one being the Spring Fling Music Jam conceived by one master music-fest conceiver, Fergie.

The Annual Beach Ball at the end of the season? Fergie. His idea. He also has a smurf on his house. That would make 3 great ideas (that we know of), which is 3 more than I’ve had since ’89.

It’s happening on Saturday, April 9th and the weather is forecasted as sunny and clear. I even looked on a weather website, which is one step further than my usual looking at the sky in a particular direction. I’ll also stick my hand out every now and then. Sometimes I lick it first. I’m not sure if that helps. It’s just sometimes there’s residual chocolate on it.

The newsletter said the cabins are booked up but I’m guessing there are still a few tent/camper spots available. You could also just come for the day, yet it’s likely you’ll want to stay. If you’ve not visited before, this is a guaranteed good time. I’m personally guaranteeing it*.

*Any personal guarantee expressed or implied by me is not expressed or implied. You just might be the type of person that can’t have a good time and you probably shouldn’t come, anyway. Wait. I take back that whole thing about you shouldn’t come. You should come. Even if you’ve never had a good time before. This could be the first good time you’ve ever had, and I don’t want to rob you of that. I, however, cannot personally guarantee it. It’s a legal thing. You can look it up, but if you do, I will assume you are my enemy. This is exactly why I should never do guarantees on stuff. I mean, all the elements of a good time are there, I just need you to meet me half way. That’s all. So maybe you guarantee you’ll do that, in writing, and then this guarantee is sort of valid in no legally binding way. Because you would have to try to not have a good time here. Like oil = good times, you = water. Ok I think I’m covered. You’d think I wouldn’t have to go to such lengths, but some people are so litigious. And I’m way too lazy to look up actual legal stuff. Even if I did, I’d be thinking about candy 3 sentences in, like I am right now. I have to go.

 

I Hate You, Clock.

I don’t think we should ever move the clocks forward. Especially on Sundays. I’ve already lost an hour of my favorite day. That’s crap.

I’ve already tried to get up early, thought I succeeded, yet the clock tells me differently. My brain says it’s early, the birds say it’s early, coma dog says it’s early.

No one is fooled, clock. I know your game. You just took an hour of my life away. While I was sleeping. That’s some sneaky business, right there.

Yeah, yeah. You’ll give it back in 6 months when I’ve become accustomed to it. Thanks. Then I’ll adjust, then you’ll screw me again by making me want to go to bed at 9:00, right when all the good shows are coming on.

What did I ever do to you? I pay attention to you every day. You already run my frickin’ life.

It’s like once every 6 months you have to remind me that you can get me on Sundays with your petty torments. I get it, okay? I am your bitch. Even bitches need a day off. Whatever.

Why can’t you be more like the calendar? He gives us a whole day every 4 years. That’s like adding weeks to our lives. The calendar knows how to show appreciation for obedience and loyalty. I don’t know why you’re such a jerk. Tick, tock, tick, tock… SHUT UP already!!

So that’s it. I’ve had all I can stand. You’re out of my life. I’m leaving you, clock. I’m not even going to look at you. I’m on the sundial from now on.

I can tell time at night by looking at the stars. I think I just have to find Vulcan and multiply by seven. Or add 4. I’ll figure it out. I don’t need you.

At Serendipity, there is a loose version of this system. It’s called “Dip Time” and any event described as happening at “Dip Time” might not happen at all, but if it does and you’re not there, everyone understands it’s because you’re doing something else you want to do. And that can be anything from napping to water volleyball.

In other words, no one has to let a clock dictate where and when to be. There are no expectations, no obligations, no radiations (I needed another “ations” word that sounded like a good selling point).

This is not to say there aren’t some schedules, because Stuart spends a tremendous amount of time making sure the weekends are full of activities. Can’t just “whenever” your way through those, but you also don’t have to participate.

Having said all that, he does a great job working around everyone’s ever-changing schedules (or lack thereof). There’s never a feeling like you have to be somewhere at a certain time. It’s one of the many reasons people come here. You can tell the park was built to provide the ultimate relaxation experience, and they nailed it.

Did I mention how easy it is to see Vulcan from there? Stuart pointed it out to me once. So far from the city, the sky is an incredible sight. I’ve never seen so many stars in my life.

If you haven’t visited before, you are really robbing yourself of something. Even if it’s something you never imagined you’d do, you’re not alone. Most people that frequent this place were once in your shoes, including me. And the best time to discover it is with a full season of fun ahead. (That would be now.)

 

 

 

 

I Have Some News

This Christmas is pretty weird. First, my air conditioning is on. Let’s start there.

I also haven’t had time to decorate, so basically, it’s like September in my world.  Merry September.

I haven’t shopped, I haven’t sent cards… I’ve pretty much done nothing to prepare. I might as well head down to Whoville and steal their presents.

I’m just kidding. I don’t even know where Whoville is and they didn’t do anything to me. (They know better than to draw first blood.)

I actually read some interesting information about Dr. Seuss today. As it turns out, you should, too. I’m not just going to tell you what I learned. That wouldn’t be fair. I did all the work.

I’m sorry. That’s not the holiday spirit. I’ll tell you. But you can’t say you heard it here or I’ll call you a liar and brand you insane. Here goes:

Dr. Seuss was not a real doctor. I’ll pause for you to take that in.

I was first inspired by his research on Sneeches, a troubled people divided by only a slight genetic difference. A very sad story. One that changed my entire perspective on Sneech society.

The good doctor’s work on cats in hats was groundbreaking, and none of us ever thought to call into question the validity of his hypotheses. But as I dig further, I’m starting to believe much of his science is fiction.

I know this is a bold accusation that could very well rock the foundation of our society. If nothing else, text books will need to be rewritten. (They hate when that happens so they’ll probably try to bury my theories like in the Will Smith movie where we learn that running full speed and smashing your head into other heads isn’t good for your head or the other heads. Who knew? Dr. Will Smith. A real doctor, unlike you know Whoville —>)

Anyway, I’m sorry to deliver this blow so close to Christmas, but the good news is you’ll probably be watching the Grinch this year through different lenses. I’m not sure he’s even real and knowing that takes some of the fear out of it for me.

I mean, I’m still going to set my Grinch traps, but that’s become more of a tradition than it is actual fear of that s.o.b. coming into my house and trying to take my presents. (Hear that, Grinch? I’m not playing. I will jack you up. I’m no Who pansy.)

Oh and before I forget, I’m not sure it’s okay to eat green eggs and ham. Sam I Am might have been onto something there. I’ve been preparing some for weeks. I’ll let you know how it goes.

I’m leaving now. My favorite documentary “The Princess Bride” is on. That Buttercup is quite a prize. The man in black is one lucky guy.

Before I go, I’d like to wish all my friends at the park (who, by the way, are probably the few who are happy about this weather) a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

And don’t forget, the New Year’s Eve party is coming and it’s always epic.

 

 

 

 

My Friend Is The World

So I heard through a grapevine that someone I met a couple of months ago described me as “awkward.”

My first response was, “He’s dumb and I hate him. (middle finger)”

It then occurred to me that I am awkward, so I found the guy, apologized for telling someone I hated him and that he was dumb, then gave him some leaves I had found outside. After, I laid down and made carpet angels for him.

I figured since we both agreed I was awkward, I could just be me.

After a moonwalking demonstration, listing all the fruits I like and reciting some short stories I wrote in high school, I asked him if he’d like to go get naked at my cabin in the woods.

He awkwardly declined and I thought, “Oh… I’m the awkward one?”

I started getting the sense I was making him a little uncomfortable, so quickly changed the subject and asked him if he saw that art exhibit where skinless dead people are partaking in various activities, like bicycling and playing cards. I thought maybe some pop culture would alleviate the tension and help us find some common ground.

Clearly I tried everything, but we just weren’t connecting. It was at that moment I realized that each of the 7 billion people on this planet might not be my friend.

I was also getting the sense I was about to be asked to leave, so I ran into the bathroom and locked the door. I thought I could regroup, come back and start over.

By the time I emerged, he said something about the police and I said I liked their older stuff but Sting got kind of weird and now says he has orgasms that last for hours. Everyone likes fun facts, except seemingly you know who (points to Mr. Awkward).

Then he was getting angry and I didn’t get it. I told him I was just trying to be his friend. He said he didn’t want to be my friend, and my first reaction was to ask for my leaves back, but I decided that was petty and I could get more (even though those were really nice ones).

As I was exiting he said, “Maybe in the next life.”

I took that as a positive sign I was finally getting through that tough exterior, so I replied, “It’s a date! And who knows? Our next lives might be playing skinless chess together for eternity. You better practice. I’m no slouch.”

Truth is I’m not very good, but he didn’t need to know that. It was more about getting into his head before the big game. I think it worked. I could sense the fear. Now I guess the pressure’s on me to back it up.

I left with a feeling we made some progress and I had changed his mind about me. It was a good feeling.  Maybe I can be friends with everyone in the world. I might be getting the hang of this social thing.

And that’s really one of the big reasons I came to Serendipity in the first place. I realized I needed to work on my social skills and thought it would be easier if I was naked. Strangely, it was.

In fact, I find myself to be more comfortable at the park than just about anywhere. It’s like all social awkwardness disappears.

I think it’s because any social vulnerabilities people might feel are washed away by the ultimate vulnerability of wearing no clothes, and the pressure that relieves makes all the difference.

I’m doing a poor job describing it and know it seems like it wouldn’t be transcendent, but it really is. Until there’s a writer around that can more accurately convey it, you’ll just have to experience it for yourself.

And guess what? The perfect time to do that is now.

The Christmas party is this Saturday, and man, are they a good time. Sure, it’s a little chilly, but that’s why God made robes and hot tubs. (Maybe not in that order. Probably hot tubs first, then he had to deal with the cold naked people running around. We will now call that scientific fact.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why Are You Thankful?

When I awoke last Thanksgiving, half of my face didn’t work. For those of you with faces, I assure you, it’s weird.

I know I’m not the only one ever to experience facial paralysis. There are millions of people this has happened to and they know how troubling it can be when you’re drooling uncontrollably or you can’t shut one of your eyes.

I can’t tell you how many times something was coming straight for my eye and I fully expected my eyelid to do something about it. But nooooooooooo… It totally let me get poked in the eye. Whatever.

“Chicks dig eye patches,” I’d joke to myself, “I can pretend like I’m in a soap opera. Then when I take off the eye patch, that’s my evil twin who goes around ruining my life, and all he really has to do is wear my eye patch and people think it’s me.” You get what I’m saying.

However, what chicks don’t dig is when food is falling out of your mouth while you’re chewing. And that’s another thing. If I was trying to eat a sandwich or something, which you know is my second favorite thing in the world (after Taco Bell), my lip would be pushed into my mouth, effectively becoming part of the sandwich.  Worse yet, it would also become part of a taco. Everything tasted like lip.

But hey. I’m a half-face full kinda guy. Even though it happened Thanksgiving day, the day of eating all that can be eaten, I couldn’t eat without also consuming my face. Did it suck? Yes. Was I going to let it ruin my day? Yes.

So most of that day I was Googling what happened, when I can expect (if I can expect) a recovery, etc. And luckily, most of what I read turned out to be pretty accurate.

It took about 6 months to recover to about 80% of the functionality it had before. A year later, I’m at about 90. I still have difficulty drinking through a straw, but that makes me giggle. I’m a simple man who is easily amused.

I wrote a post about this around the time I was making my recovery. I didn’t want to make a big deal about it and still don’t, I’m now reminded because Thanksgiving is right around the corner. I just hope the left side doesn’t go.

Oh yeah! I almost forgot. What caused the paralysis was Shingles. I got it on my neck, face, ear and head.

The facial paralysis was called RHS (Ramsey Hunt Syndrome), a rare occurrence in .01% of Shingles… People? Victims? Patients? I don’t know what they call us, as long as they don’t call us late for dinner. (Cymbal crashes)

My point to all of this is the reaction I received when I returned to the park, which was an outpouring of affection and caring. I learned everyone had been really concerned. It just made me remember how awesome the people at the Dip are, and I’m thankful I have a place there.

Speaking of dinner and the Dip (mmmmm… dinner), the annual Thanksgiving dinner will be held on November 21st.

And please don’t worry about my face. It’s fine. This is the face you should be worried about.

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(Congrats to Stuart for winning this year’s Halloween costume contest! At least I think this is from the contest.)