Category: Boblimptock

I’m going to tell you a story about lists. We think lists are good, and this is true like a fork or a shotgun. Good, useful, dangerous, painful.

I’m going to tell you about lists of friends, and some of them are friends, and some of them are not.

I’m going to say, we keep LISTS of grievances.

I have a running list in my head, and I call it NED, and it’s a demon that lives in the woods.

We keep track of petty shit, mostly because we’re afraid.

We keep track of things we don’t like about someone else, mostly because we don’t want to talk, even if it means breaking up.

Our tiny lists,

like pythons,

strangle us.

Lists of “good” and “bad” people, based upon some arcane criteria of hate or disgust.

Lists of “non-human” and therefore disposable people, a list of 3 doctors in Canada gets you the cruise to Valhalla.

I suffer from depression, periodically, and it helps me to keep a list of things that make me happy – if the list gets to one or two, then it’s time to “phone a friend”, so to speak.

There’s the Burger King stage, where if you’re really depressed, but someone asks you “want some Burger King”, you say yes: because you’re still out of the worst parts of depression.

So I keep a list that keeps me alive, and happy, and grateful – as much as an old curmudgeon can be, in 2023 Boblimptock.

So some lists good, some lists bad – be wise, like Solomon.

Nothing is being saved.

They fuck with your clock and create pain.

You think you get an “hour back” – but this is a lie too.

Because of DST? – 4 million squirrels go hungry.

The next time some woman tells me “I have a yeast infection”, I’ll say:

“Hold my beer”

(because I need to get my sample kit)

blame daylight savings time

The company motto for BOOVULA BREWERY?

“Send us your yeast infection, we’ll send you some beer.”

damn this daylight savings time

I need to start collecting hooker greases for my new company.

Daylight savings man …

“Jack Frost roasting on an open fire,
chestnuts biting off my toes.”

(some real Christmas spirit bullshit)

Because of Daylight Savings Time …

I’m behind on podcasts, but I have some kick ass notes. And maybe I wake up in the morning, early, and eat scribbles, and ungudgoolate myself, while de-groomulating my splinctus.

I am your muskrat hunter, my love.

I was at the WALMART, and this dude, in some sort of hypno state, was muttering:

“noodle, noodle,
yankee doodle,
drop that bomb,
on Old Saddam”

It sounded like it, truly he was at ramming speed with his shopping cart and I just got out of his insane way and didn’t take notes.

But folks: it’s getting crazier out there

The dude at WALMART …

He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t sad … he was crazy.

The IT software / firewall at work classifies my blog, this blog, as porn …

If it is porn? – it’s a strange porn.

A porn for strangers …

A table set for strangers to feel less alone.