Mooner Plans Road Trip; Rick Perry Still A Prick

 

So. It’s Friday and I should be so fritzed with my ADHD that I can’t sit to write. I have so much shit going on—much of which is totally out of my control—that my mind should be spinning like a turbo-charged top.

For starters, in addition to my ADHD, ADD and Obsessive-Compulsive Disorders previously disclosed on these pages, after yesterday’s intense psycho therapy sessions, I am forced to further enlighten you to the fact that I have a full-blown case of Dissociative Identity Disorder. I disagree with the diagnosis and would normally feel compelled to wax poetically and lament my ass off to you in an effort to demonstrate that my psycho therapist is wrong.

Not gonna do it. I know that my mental boarder, Don Legacy, is under my controls and that I won’t let him become a problem for any of us.

It’s also been way in excess of three weeks since I had any second-party sex. My Ivory soap bar and I are ready to set a date for my eleventh marriage, but I’m finding myself struggling to remember what a woman feels like. This alone is usually enough to send me into full panic mode. I believe that the sex you don’t have is sex you have lost. You can’t make up for lost sex when you don’t have it, it is simply gone. Poof, disappeared. I hate losing stuff, but I’m not losing my mind resultantly.

Then there would be the new puppy that I was swindled into accepting as my charge. He’s a seriously cute little shitbird, but he’s also a seriously needy person. He can’t talk to me and has so far chosen to not speak to the Squirt, so we’re forced to try to read his mind. Since he was locked in a cage for the first year of his life, he has trouble expressing himself in meaningful ways. He shits every time he pees, so I can’t yet teach him to use the sink. That means that every time he gets up in the middle of the night, I have to get up and take him outside.

And don’t tell me to get a doggy door so he can let himself out. Have you ever seen a small domesticated pet that’s been eviscerated by a coyote? Anyway, I’m going sleep-disturbed with the interruptions to my slumbers, and sleep disturbations usually make me crankier than a Model-T. And don’t try to tell me that disturbations isn’t a word. Should be, therefore, is.

But the puppy-soon-to-not-be-known as Pi is adjusting in other ways, integrating himself into my little family unit of pets. Thank god he isn’t homosexual. If he was gay I don’t know what I’d do. Rush Limbaugh is a severely jealous pig, and Rick Perry is a preening cock. I don’t have the patience to referee a gay love triangle.

But none of my pet problems is bothering me either.

Then there’s the whole political thingie with the giant tear in the fabric of American government. Anger and hate seem to be the special of the day, and I feel it ripping us apart at the seams. The right-wing Christians are trying to destroy the civilized parts of our civilization, and our President is getting criticized by many of his own supporters for not destroying back. I agree that he might have taken stronger stands on some things, but the high road is always the smart road.

The pompous prick that is Texas Governor Rick Perry continues to lead his party’s prez race even though he has been shown to be a two-faced liar, a special interest pandering crook, and as dumb as he wishes to make all Texas school kids. Even that isn’t making me crazy today.

Nope, I’m feeling chipper as Nero when Mrs. O’Leary’s cow spilled the milk. Rome might be burning at my feet, but I simply do not give a shit today. Tomorrow I might be ready to slit my own throat, but today I’m happy as a lark. Today I am starting serious work planning a road trip. Just me and some luggage in the car. No animals, no other Johnsons and no sweetie. Just me.

The trip will be from Austin, Texas up through Louisiana and Mississippi and into Tennessee. Why doesn’t Louisiana have a second “n” there to its end? I’m going to visit poker rooms in a few casinos and play my way across America on my way to visit some blogger buddies. My final destination is Murfreesboro, Tn., home of Squatlo, the Reckmonster and near to The Dumb Perignon.

The three of them are three of my favorite I-net people and I want to meet them. I also hope to make connections with others. I know Thank-Q is in Mississippi somewhere and maybe other bloggers are within the scope of my wanderings. I want to meet as many of you guys as possible while I’m out rambling, so let me know if you want to meet while I’m near you.

I’m excited about this trip. For some reason it has the senses of what I imagine a mail-order bride feels when heading out to meet her groom for the first time.

Of course, it also looks like it may rain here for the first time since mid-May.

Anyway, let me know if you are in or near my path and you want to take the time to have a beer and a chat. I’m working the I-net to find drinking establishments who offer Carta Blanca beer. Manana, y’all.

Print Friendly

Leave a Reply