If this doesn’t exist,  it should.  A service where people can make a statement,  and have the computer,  or  human,  tell them whether it is true,  or a piece of bulls hit.

Snopes does this for urban legends and email hoaxes and other scams.  There are plenty of educational sites that you can use to research,  almost like a high school student used to do with physical books and pages without search.

Except,  instantly by asking Google…  Or Siri or Cortana or Amazon whatshername*

There are too many to name it seems,  as everyone wants to be the VHS standard,  regardless of quality.  First one to promote with a big budget,  wins.  We call many things by their brand name,  and are often shocked at some of them,  like Elevator and Windbreaker,  both brands,  not products.  In North America,  I’m pretty sure more people say Kleenex than tissue.

We fight over how to say Tissue,  and you can really make somebody feel uneasy if you ask them for a tissue.  It sounds more posh than Kleenex,  despite the fact we buy any brand.

I’m lost my place and have no idea what I was typing about,  but since I’ve decided I like to write,  I know I can thumb up and see where I was.  It’s almost like a friend.
(ed: is that too sad? Is sad a cover word for pathetic?  I went away on a zeppelin there for a few minutes.

I was about to say a couple of moments,  and I stopped myself.  I have a thing.

I suppose,  now that I write it down,  it’s one if the OCD things I’ve been paying attention,  ever since my friend made a casual joke.  I started mentioning my obcession when it came up,  but I would always follow up with,  I’m obcessive,  not OCD.

After a while I had to say it,  it had become one of my quirks that started as a punchline or gag,  to having to say it.   There are a few,  where a heard line required a specific reply.

If I see a Fabricland,  I must sing their jingle.  When I see a Mandarin,  I sing their jingle.  When I gear Mandolin (insturument)  I sing Mandolin to the Mandarin theme.
I could go on,

I will now look back up into my text,  and start again.

Oh.  I’m afraid this one is not going to end well.  Let me stall with a side distraction.

My process for blogging.

(1) Weed.  Even a pea sized one hit
(2) Nearest keyboard.
(3) A new idea.

New ideas are exciting.  I physically and mentally feel it when I get a new idea or see something or…  Best yet,  learn something.

I love the feeling of new knowledge,  or even correction,  as long as you don’t point out the stupidity of my error.  I error a lot,  so I’ve reframed failure as a love to learn.

Failure is almost expected in my brain.  The negative voice makes sure of that,  even on medication.  Most of my joy,  is crushed.

But I have a saying [PP]

The Scariest thing in our universe,  is a new absolute belief…  But they feel soooo complicating and good.

For me,  my positive voice brings joy,  and my negative voice crushes it with reasons the joy was not #joyworthy

I have been seeing the spike and fall like a heartbeat monitor in movies.  I can almost now hear the beep,  but I defin…

Brain switches track.  Are the heartbeat monitors in the movies realistic?  Are they international?  Should I be writing for a braided audience.

While playing Cards Against Humanity last week with 7 strangers in my other universe,  I happened to notice how many of the cards were references that people outside of the USA and Canada might not get or know.  The US version is,  as expected perhaps,  quite American.  From celebrity names perhaps not famous enough to be known…

Nawww…  The celebrities were probably good,  except for Bill Mayes and… 

This is not a good story to side…  Oh yeah,  I remember.   The list of my process.  I didn’t even have to look up.

(4) When I get a new idea,  I feel it,  and the need to share it is a built in reaction. In my universe,  if it isn’t a story,  it doesn’t exist.

Anything only I know,  dies with me.  If it w…

T Shirt.

If you don’t make it a story
It didn’t exist.

No,  probably not a good T Shirt.

5) I write a title that I think creatively encompasses the ide that I am about to share.  That excites me and gives me a pride point.  {pp}

6) I get excited about the creative title,  but inevitably,  before I type the first letter onto the screen,  I am almost always distracted and I start with an introductory paragraph that isn’t about the topic.

At this point,  it is still my objective,  to write my idea down.  To share whatever it was that excited me enough to get up,  and start typing.

Quite often,  the proper…

Word change…  Quite often,  the distraction is enough to fill my brain and the original thought is lost. It often is gone into memory,  and in many cases,  can not be retrieved except by a trigger keyword or concept,  which usually means somebody else.

I live alone.
I work alone.

7. At some point,  as I am writing about some topic other than the stated topic,  my mind wanders and I start typing the blog in my own personal brain stream transcript.

Essentially,  I use the weed to slow my thinking down,  and type at the speed of thought.

*working on that.  Many variations,  but I’m working on getting it down to a quote.

—
I do not know…  Ohhhhh,  wait for it.  It’s all coming toget… I’m doing it again.  I’m stalling the story just long enough to forget why it was so exciting.   Events that passed,  as best I can remember.

(pause)

Darn.  That really was a good one,  but guests arrived and I went away.

As best I can remember,  I was going to zeppelin off about my ideas of Quotations.  I’ve been working on a side theory and silent campain

Oddly,  I just now freak liked this is what I have been doing. Realized.

WOW.  This device gas horrid autocorrect because I’m using a..  No…  That is not a good enough reason to blame my Bluetooth keyboard.

So…  I have always said,  back to the first revision of Frogstar42 pride filled comedy web site I made when I first started on the Internet.

If I were famous,  These would be some of my quotes…  And then I listed several.

Over the years,  I have added to them,  and have many in my writings that I love and cherish.

Recently,  I made the connection that good quotes have been used for centuries before the Internet to make people smile,  and teach lessons,  often with a punchline.

Every gas station I ever visited as a child was selling bumper sticker wisdom and humour.

For many,  our parents or Grandparents were the ones that taught us most of the axioms and wisdoms of modern life.  Some,  more than others of course.

Today,  we have replaced bumper stickers and wooden kitchen placks of wisdom and wit with the Internet.  Twitter is limited to 140 characters,  and is essentially a bumper sticker deliver system of the super information highway.  * A term that USD to be used to describe the internet before somebody smart realized it was confusing newcomers more than helping,  and we just call it the net.  Maybe the World Wide Web,  although we no longer need to bother with www.

IT has gone the way of the word Does.  Youth today now seem to start sentences with Anybody,  as in Anybody like Toronto?

I both hate…  There it is again.  I was about to…  OOOO…  That was a ping pong challenge in my head.  The negative and positive voices stopped my typing to justify whether or not I should mention the Whisper Chat app,  as one of the first (and coolest)  to combine 140 character bumper sticker type text,  on top of an image.

Facebook and Twitter suddenly started sharing what essentially boils down to well crafted quotes,  over top of pictures or backgrounds.

The world changed.  Grandma is out,  fancy font over a meadow is in.  Out with the Hang In There kitty poster on your wall.   We have somebody’s quote in a serif font over a grumpy kitten.

We listen to Grumpy Cat.
Some of us relate.   I do say No a lot.

Pause.
Suddenly my mind has run out of steam and stops.  Like bend…

My mind wants to remind you or clarify thoughts from previous things,  and it scatters looking for a new topic.   I am weary.

The visit with my friends to end my roommate’s birthday lasted a while.  I had to admit I had smoked some weed.   It was obvious.

Anyway… I don’t like that paragraph beginning.  Like Chess,  I have several go-to first words and I try not to overuse them in one writing,  but anyway I try to avoid all together.

(Cutaway): Movie,  Airplane.  It’s a totally different thing altogether.   Three people repeat,  It’s a totally different thing.   That was a joke I “got”  about 20 minutes later,  while stil watching the movie. I’ve tried to refuse it when somebody says the right combination,  but it’s never been understood,  so I gave up.   /memory

—-
I had to justify weed smoking today,  at least in my head.  I had to explain why I got high this evening,  to a gathering of weed smokers.  I smoke less than all of them,  but it sure felt like I was on trial in that moment. 

It always does.  That’s why I have yet…  No,  better wording…  That is why I have used the excuse of not coming forward* and admitted to being a pot smoker.

(buzz)

I mean a drug user.

My lie detector seems to be working. 

—–
Personal updates.

My roomate and I are into week 3. It still has tension from both sides,  and I only converse in very small packets less than once a day,  but I see progress,  and I try my very best to talk in positive tones and optimistic futures.

It is a hard job,  but I am taking pride in being able to do it…  Reasonably.  I stumble,  and of end the shit out of her every day by saying things she can interpret with her negative voice.

I have to say it’s hard,  but it’s new and not impossible.  I know many people who have care for another person an active part if their life,  and they manage.  I’m sounding (in my head at least)  like the victim. I believe caring for a troubled or injured or otherwise human being is a worthy task. 

I have to say it has been one of my biggest fears, from birth,  and something I have shred away from and modeled my life around.

I decided young to never have children because I was terrified of a life needing to care for a disabled or deformed or sick child.  I can not comprehend the life dedicated to support at that level.

— thinks.   Wait,  I kind of am cut out for this.  Children were a fear for me on all levels,  especially with my A. D. D and how often I am wrong,  stupid,  or otherwise fail.

But I am Mr.  Support.  I think the difference is,  kids and the ill may not appreciate me and smile,  or laugh.  I may not create joy for them.  In fact,  they may crush my joy.

However,  people adapt.  I am fond of saying:

I hate knowing about change.
I hate worrying about change.
I hate thinking about what it will be like.
I change.
I accept my new now.
I look for ways to like the change
I appreciate the need for change
I like this change
I may promote this change to you.
I hate hearing about change.

The one thing that isn’t included in that list,  my fear of the idea of change is enough to have kept me from self inflicted change.  It is as difficult for me to change,  as it is for a phobic person to get on a plane,  or an OCD person to not hit that lamppost three times in succession.

I support.  I give my priority and my goals to making the moment better for you,  but I do it for selfish reasons.  I feed off the praise,  appreciation and smiles.  I feel this.  It is far more important to me than money,  and in fact –  I hate to admit it in print,  because * it allows me to be taken advantage of.

I have never been motivated by money.
I have never mourned the loss of money,  either spent or foolishly squandered,  as long as the money yielded a good story or feeling.

Smiles.

I like to overpay,  rather than under pay.  I like to share the feeling of joy I get with others,  and often a 21% tip will do that,  or a gift,  or paying for lunch.

I have never been against paying people well,  to do things for me. I often pay my support more than I make,  and cover it out of pocket. 

People love generosity.

–lost again.   I was super excited about having just remembered the original title of this,  and being able to work a story into it perfectly,  but three or four flash thoughts struck me so fast,  I had forgotten some before… so you’ll miss the link,  but I did remember what the title was in reference to.

I – –  frozen.   I decide do go into the kitchen area and hang out with my room mate.  The emotions of how toi talk around her take more brain power than usual conversation,  and I’m enjoying the stimulation.  I am evolving from the experience,  as I try to be there for her,  but also secretly having her…  Well..  Mind court in session.  I don’t want to,  nor should I share personal parts of the story. 

It is a challenge that isn’t usual for me.  It is out of my comfort zone, m and in many ways,  except Ly the change I needed.   I said I…

I avoided the title again.   I had some fact I wanted to ask about…  But all that has been forgotten at least three times.

Pause.

I think I’ll rest.
I declare this birthday of hers,  a success.   On the level we’re at at least.

En do part 1, written in two parts.

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