I admit it, I have a money habit. For many years, I've been using and abusing money. It all started when I was ten years old and my grandfather gave me a dollar bill so I could go buy some candy. Soon I was into fivers. A few years later I was hooked on tens. It wasn't long until I got turned on to twenties. I was eighteen when I did my first one hundred dollar bill. I can still remember the rush.
How bad is my money habit? You won't believe all the degrading, humiliating, agonizing things I've subjected myself to over the years just so I could score a few bucks. For example, I've allowed myself to be placed inside cubicles where I was expected to answer phone calls from irate customers and fiddle with monotonous paperwork eight hours a day, five days a week. All this so that every two weeks I could receive my financial narcotic.
How bad is my money habit? I can't go more than a day or two without using any. One time I went three days but that was only because I was in bed sick. Occasionally, I'll go a couple of days without doing any purchasing but then something small like a Snickers® bar will trigger my spending habit. After the Snickers bar, it's a slice of pizza. Then it's a pair of jeans. Soon it's the monthly rent, the bills, the car stereo, the dry cleaners, the down payment on a nuclear arsenal, the used spaceship and on and on.
But there is good news. I'm now in a program designed to wean me from my money habit. This program goes by the acronym WALMARTS. It stands for We'll Act Like Money Ain't Really That Significant. The way the program works is I show up at this big box store five days a week and do a whole bunch of repetitive tasks. Then at the end of the week, I get a few dollars to help me with my money habit but not too much. Each week, I get a little less in my paycheck until eventually I'm completely cured of my money addiction. Isn't that great?
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Saturday, December 12, 2009
WARNING: This blog entry contains nudity
WARNING: This blog entry contains nudity, both gratuitous and the other kind. If you have a problem with excessive nudity, then immediately consult a physician about it but for God's sake don't join the NRA (the Nudity Removal Association, that is).
If you can imagine a land where nudity reigns supreme, then you have just touched the tip of the iceberg where it comes to this clothing-optional religion that I'm thinking about starting. Seriously, think about this: What if Eve hadn't eaten the apple way back 6,000 years ago when life originally began? Might the earth today just be one big nudist colony? Would we all be wearing designer fig leaves?
Imagine a world where nudity runs rampant. The police are nude, the fire fighters are nude, the postal workers are nude, the sanitary engineers (or what in less PC times we called garbage men) are nude. The mayor is nude. The bill collectors are nude. Your landlord is nude.
Didn't I tell you there was going to be a lot of nudity in this piece?
...the telephone repairman is nude, the newspaper advice columnist is nude, the door to door salesman is nude, the Jehova's Witness is...oh, wait, they're never nude! The information technology specialist is nude, the nuclear astrophysicist is nude, the motivational speaker is nude...
The only people that wouldn't be nude are what would be called "dressers." Nude men would go to the sleazy part of town to see shows where nude women would slowly and seductively put on various items of clothing in time to a throbbing disco beat. They would do a dance known as a "dress-tease."
If you can imagine a land where nudity reigns supreme, then you have just touched the tip of the iceberg where it comes to this clothing-optional religion that I'm thinking about starting. Seriously, think about this: What if Eve hadn't eaten the apple way back 6,000 years ago when life originally began? Might the earth today just be one big nudist colony? Would we all be wearing designer fig leaves?
Imagine a world where nudity runs rampant. The police are nude, the fire fighters are nude, the postal workers are nude, the sanitary engineers (or what in less PC times we called garbage men) are nude. The mayor is nude. The bill collectors are nude. Your landlord is nude.
Didn't I tell you there was going to be a lot of nudity in this piece?
...the telephone repairman is nude, the newspaper advice columnist is nude, the door to door salesman is nude, the Jehova's Witness is...oh, wait, they're never nude! The information technology specialist is nude, the nuclear astrophysicist is nude, the motivational speaker is nude...
The only people that wouldn't be nude are what would be called "dressers." Nude men would go to the sleazy part of town to see shows where nude women would slowly and seductively put on various items of clothing in time to a throbbing disco beat. They would do a dance known as a "dress-tease."
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
This is only a test
This is a test. The following is a test of The National Blogging Emergency Response Network. This is only a test.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
This has been a test of The National Blogging Emergency Response Network.
If this had been an actually blogging emergency, you would have been subjected to countless dissertations, tedious diatribes, endless bloviations, pompous tirades, ridiculous rants, righteous raves and on and on. You would have been bombarded with all kinds of self-pity trips like why can't I be a world renowned, well respected blogger like Arianna Huffington or Markos Moulitsas? Is it because of my choice of aftershave? Is it because when I was a kid, I never saved enough Wheaties ® proof-of-purchase box tops to get my very own Wheaties ® gym bag? I could go on but I won't for after all...
This is only test.
No, really, it is.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
This has been a test of The National Blogging Emergency Response Network.
If this had been an actually blogging emergency, you would have been subjected to countless dissertations, tedious diatribes, endless bloviations, pompous tirades, ridiculous rants, righteous raves and on and on. You would have been bombarded with all kinds of self-pity trips like why can't I be a world renowned, well respected blogger like Arianna Huffington or Markos Moulitsas? Is it because of my choice of aftershave? Is it because when I was a kid, I never saved enough Wheaties ® proof-of-purchase box tops to get my very own Wheaties ® gym bag? I could go on but I won't for after all...
This is only test.
No, really, it is.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Are You Joe King?
Questioner: Excuse me, Sir, are you Joe King?
Joe King: Yes, I am Joe King.
Q: So, you're not joking? You are Joe King?
JK: Absolutely. I assure you, I'm not joking. I am Joe King.
Q: OK, so let me see if I've got this straight. You're only joking if you say you're not Joe King?
JK: Correct.
Q: Alright, I think I've got it. In other words, you were not joking when you said you were Joe King?
JK: Correct. I'm only joking if I say I'm not Joe King.
Q: Well, I think we've firmly established that you are Joe King.
JK: Yes, and in this case, I'm not joking.
Q: For if you were joking, then clearly you would not be Joe King. Am I right?
JK: Yes. And who, pray tell, may I ask, are you?
Q: I.M. Serious.
JK: Are you serious?
Q: I didn't realize you knew my brother named R.U. Serious.
JK: Well, I can see you are serious.
Q: You can see my uncle U.R. Serious? Really? Where? I'm craning my neck frantically but I can not make out his personage.
Joe King: Yes, I am Joe King.
Q: So, you're not joking? You are Joe King?
JK: Absolutely. I assure you, I'm not joking. I am Joe King.
Q: OK, so let me see if I've got this straight. You're only joking if you say you're not Joe King?
JK: Correct.
Q: Alright, I think I've got it. In other words, you were not joking when you said you were Joe King?
JK: Correct. I'm only joking if I say I'm not Joe King.
Q: Well, I think we've firmly established that you are Joe King.
JK: Yes, and in this case, I'm not joking.
Q: For if you were joking, then clearly you would not be Joe King. Am I right?
JK: Yes. And who, pray tell, may I ask, are you?
Q: I.M. Serious.
JK: Are you serious?
Q: I didn't realize you knew my brother named R.U. Serious.
JK: Well, I can see you are serious.
Q: You can see my uncle U.R. Serious? Really? Where? I'm craning my neck frantically but I can not make out his personage.
This Blog Comes with Special Features
As you obviously know, we live in the DVD era. Remember the VHS videotape era? I didn't think so. Well, back then, after you watched a movie on tape, you didn't get all those "Special Features" at the end of the movie like you get nowadays with DVDs. In ancient times (I'm talking early 90's), we didn't get all those behind the scenes, making of, alternate endings, deleted scenes, actor and director commentaries like we do these days. And, personally, I think sometimes the Special Features are the best part of the DVD. You know what I'm saying?
So, in keeping with the spirit of the DVD era, we are going to periodically have a Special Features section to this blog. Today will be the first. Today we will go behind the scenes to see what kind of process comes into play as Joe Soko churns out pieces for his blog day in and day out. In a future Special Features edition of this blog, we will have a running commentary to accompany some of the earlier blog entries. And now, without further ado...
Sokoblog: The Making of a Blog
(imagine the grandiose intro music of your choice)
Here we are in Joe Soko's bedroom. Joe is sitting at his desk in front of his computer, thinking about different approaches for his latest blog entry. We are privileged to have a close up look into Joe's blog writing process as we witness the creation of Joe's latest blog entry entitled "Cannibalism Amongst Consenting Adults." It looks as if he's just finished the first paragraph and now he's gathering his thoughts together as he attempts a rough sketch of the second paragraph. He looks very pensive at the moment. Now, he's starting to type something. But, no, he's deleted it. Oh, wait, he's about to type something else except...
Damnit!! The phone is ringing loudly. Now Joe's concentration has been totally thrown off. "Hello?" Joe asks after picking up the phone. It's the Police Athletic League (or PAL for short). They're looking for donations to help send underprivileged kids to basketball camp. Joe feels very torn right now. On the one hand, Joe despises telephone solicitations but, on the other hand, what if he doesn't give a donation now and someday he needs the help of the police? They might remember that he was the guy who didn't give PAL a donation. They might think, "why should we help that tightwad? Where was Joe when little ten year old Julio so desperately wanted to improve his layup but was short ten bucks? Nah, we're not going to come to his aid. Joe can fight off those rabid beavers on his own." After much deliberation, Joe reluctantly gives PAL ten bucks.
You see, Joe suffers from all kinds of paranoia and neuroses. He often uses his blog to deal with these inner dysfunctionalities but today even his blog does not seem to be helping. But, oh, wait! It looks like Joe is once again applying his fingers to the keyboard and... yes, he's tentatively beginning to type some letters. Letters that are turning into words. Words that are turning into a sentence or two. We are making progress. It's just a matter of time before he presents to the world his treatise examining the rise of new age holistic cannibalism within the fringes of the culinary community.
Yes, Joe is clearly on a roll right now but, wait...what's going on? Joe has suddenly stopped typing and is now staring out his window as if he sees something he can not believe. As we move in closer to see just what is happening outside, we, too, are struck by the emergence on Joe's quiet street of an energetic pack (flock? gaggle? tribe?) of young college women jogging down the street. Joe seems transfixed as a parade of jogging women go past, some wearing shorts revealing lovely smooth legs while others have on those tight fitting black clingy jogging pants which perfectly accentuate the buttocks as they lovingly go by.
This new development is definitely not a good one for Joe. Will Joe be able to continue working on his thesis about consensual cannibalism or is he too hot and bothered now? Even though it's been a full five minutes since the last jogger strode by, Joe is still struggling to keep from reliving the scenes of endless jogging beauties running sexily past his window.
Now Joe takes a sip of water and stares at his computer screen. It looks like he will indeed forge ahead. With his fingers firmly positioned on the keyboard, Joe takes in a deep breathe, exhales and then suddenly notices his to do list. Oh, shit! There's groceries, laundry, the post office and the overdue library books. And, hey, if Joe is going to get these things done, he's going to have to start on them right now. Turning off his computer, Joe leaps into action in order to get these chores out of the way. As he runs out the door, we come to the close of yet another exciting, unpredictable blog writing session.
We have just presented you with a small glimpse into the world of blogging and the inherent challenges, obstacles and hardships that a blogger faces on a daily basis. No one ever said blogging would be easy but that is why Joe Soko is not just a blogger, he's a Masterblogger.
(Cue imaginary grandiose finale music of your choice)
So, in keeping with the spirit of the DVD era, we are going to periodically have a Special Features section to this blog. Today will be the first. Today we will go behind the scenes to see what kind of process comes into play as Joe Soko churns out pieces for his blog day in and day out. In a future Special Features edition of this blog, we will have a running commentary to accompany some of the earlier blog entries. And now, without further ado...
Sokoblog: The Making of a Blog
(imagine the grandiose intro music of your choice)
Here we are in Joe Soko's bedroom. Joe is sitting at his desk in front of his computer, thinking about different approaches for his latest blog entry. We are privileged to have a close up look into Joe's blog writing process as we witness the creation of Joe's latest blog entry entitled "Cannibalism Amongst Consenting Adults." It looks as if he's just finished the first paragraph and now he's gathering his thoughts together as he attempts a rough sketch of the second paragraph. He looks very pensive at the moment. Now, he's starting to type something. But, no, he's deleted it. Oh, wait, he's about to type something else except...
Damnit!! The phone is ringing loudly. Now Joe's concentration has been totally thrown off. "Hello?" Joe asks after picking up the phone. It's the Police Athletic League (or PAL for short). They're looking for donations to help send underprivileged kids to basketball camp. Joe feels very torn right now. On the one hand, Joe despises telephone solicitations but, on the other hand, what if he doesn't give a donation now and someday he needs the help of the police? They might remember that he was the guy who didn't give PAL a donation. They might think, "why should we help that tightwad? Where was Joe when little ten year old Julio so desperately wanted to improve his layup but was short ten bucks? Nah, we're not going to come to his aid. Joe can fight off those rabid beavers on his own." After much deliberation, Joe reluctantly gives PAL ten bucks.
You see, Joe suffers from all kinds of paranoia and neuroses. He often uses his blog to deal with these inner dysfunctionalities but today even his blog does not seem to be helping. But, oh, wait! It looks like Joe is once again applying his fingers to the keyboard and... yes, he's tentatively beginning to type some letters. Letters that are turning into words. Words that are turning into a sentence or two. We are making progress. It's just a matter of time before he presents to the world his treatise examining the rise of new age holistic cannibalism within the fringes of the culinary community.
Yes, Joe is clearly on a roll right now but, wait...what's going on? Joe has suddenly stopped typing and is now staring out his window as if he sees something he can not believe. As we move in closer to see just what is happening outside, we, too, are struck by the emergence on Joe's quiet street of an energetic pack (flock? gaggle? tribe?) of young college women jogging down the street. Joe seems transfixed as a parade of jogging women go past, some wearing shorts revealing lovely smooth legs while others have on those tight fitting black clingy jogging pants which perfectly accentuate the buttocks as they lovingly go by.
This new development is definitely not a good one for Joe. Will Joe be able to continue working on his thesis about consensual cannibalism or is he too hot and bothered now? Even though it's been a full five minutes since the last jogger strode by, Joe is still struggling to keep from reliving the scenes of endless jogging beauties running sexily past his window.
Now Joe takes a sip of water and stares at his computer screen. It looks like he will indeed forge ahead. With his fingers firmly positioned on the keyboard, Joe takes in a deep breathe, exhales and then suddenly notices his to do list. Oh, shit! There's groceries, laundry, the post office and the overdue library books. And, hey, if Joe is going to get these things done, he's going to have to start on them right now. Turning off his computer, Joe leaps into action in order to get these chores out of the way. As he runs out the door, we come to the close of yet another exciting, unpredictable blog writing session.
We have just presented you with a small glimpse into the world of blogging and the inherent challenges, obstacles and hardships that a blogger faces on a daily basis. No one ever said blogging would be easy but that is why Joe Soko is not just a blogger, he's a Masterblogger.
(Cue imaginary grandiose finale music of your choice)
You Want My Advice?
You want my advice? Here's my advice: Never take anyone's advice. Are you listening to me? I hope not because then you would be taking my advice. I hope you are completely disregarding the suggestion I made above. Did you ignore my advice? You did? Good, you did not take my advice. The only irony here is that by not taking my advice, you actually did take my advice because my advice was that you should not take my advice so shame on you for taking my advice when clearly my advice was to not take my advice. Comprende?
I am Absolutely Fearless!
I have no fears. I am absolutely fearless. This is the total truth. Oh, sure I'm afraid of death and loneliness but aren't we all? So, aside from those two fears, I am essentially without fear. Alright, I'll admit one fear I have. I do have a fear of poverty. I fear being reduced to abject poverty, having to rummage through garbage cans to get bits of food which I take back to my cardboard box that I sleep in under the highway overpass. But that's a justifiable fear so it doesn't really count. As I said, I'm fearless.
Alright, alright, I'll be honest. Along with poverty, I'll just add that I'm also afraid of contracting a debilitating illness or disease. And, while we're at it, I guess I do have a fear of heights and we're all afraid of the terrorists, right? (I know I am). And, hey, so what if I'm afraid of spiders? Everyone's afraid of those scary creatures along with rats, skunks, raccoons, bears, wolves, foxes, giant, man-eating squirrels, flying vampire fish, ten foot-tall, saber-toothed hamsters, and on and on, etc.
But, aside from all that, I'm absolutely fearless.
Alright, alright, I'll be honest. Along with poverty, I'll just add that I'm also afraid of contracting a debilitating illness or disease. And, while we're at it, I guess I do have a fear of heights and we're all afraid of the terrorists, right? (I know I am). And, hey, so what if I'm afraid of spiders? Everyone's afraid of those scary creatures along with rats, skunks, raccoons, bears, wolves, foxes, giant, man-eating squirrels, flying vampire fish, ten foot-tall, saber-toothed hamsters, and on and on, etc.
But, aside from all that, I'm absolutely fearless.
My Very Own Blog
Wow, I can't believe it, my very own blog. Never did I imagine that one day I would become a true blue blogmeister. To wield this much power is both a great honor and a deeply humbling experience. To think that I, Joe Soko, a mere mortal, will be entrusted to shape public opinion via my blog entries is quite an astounding feat. But, rest assured, I will not let all this power go to my head. I will not acquire a huge ego as I dish out my knowledge and insights to you, the mere common folks. No, I, Joe Soko, Master of the World, will not let any of this awesomeness in any way give me a superiority complex. I promise you that I, Joe Soko, Emperor of the Sun, will still be able to relate to all the little people. Yes, I assure you, that I, Joe Soko, Ruler of the Universe, will not let my new blog site turn me into some kind of demented egomaniac.
So sit back and enjoy as you have your mind opened, your thoughts broadened, your sense of reality shattered and your bank account emptied. What you will experience with these blog entries are journeys into worlds previously unknown and voyages into the inner sanctum of your sacred subconsciousness. In fact, now you are getting sleepy, very sleepy.... when I count to three you will wake from your meditative state and leave all your earthly possessions to me. One... two... three!
Alright, I just scored a drawer full of mismatched socks, an old skateboard and the entire Jackson Five collection on three cassette tapes. Yes!
So sit back and enjoy as you have your mind opened, your thoughts broadened, your sense of reality shattered and your bank account emptied. What you will experience with these blog entries are journeys into worlds previously unknown and voyages into the inner sanctum of your sacred subconsciousness. In fact, now you are getting sleepy, very sleepy.... when I count to three you will wake from your meditative state and leave all your earthly possessions to me. One... two... three!
Alright, I just scored a drawer full of mismatched socks, an old skateboard and the entire Jackson Five collection on three cassette tapes. Yes!
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