Blonde Moments

 

Have the feeling that the whole country is going through an extended Blonde Moment?

And...yes, Real Men Do Colour Their Hair, and I will say no more.

In the Country of the Blonde

the Brunette gal is queen,

for her wisdom goes beyond 

what anyone has seen.

Her raven hair is colorfast,

and she has The Look.

They say, sometime in ages past,

she may have read a book!

The Blondes drive their convertibles,

their Brunette Queen holds court,

and in this the Blonde Joy is full,

for they know who holds the fort:

yes, perhaps Blondes have more fun,

but the Brunette gets it done.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is THROUGH.

I am through with being blonde,

an object of brunette derision!

It is time to go beyond 

this fate, so here is my decision.

I'll go to the cosmetics aisle,

and peruse the darker shades

'till I find one that brings a smile,

and then these way cool chemists' aids

will change my life, just wait and see,

for all around me will assume 

that there might be far more to me 

than the dumb blonde in the room.

All that can make this plan go south 

is needing to open my mouth.

Sylvia asks, 'So which am I?'

 

 

Health And Wealth (Tell His Story)

 Your faith is weak if you are poor,

because the Lord intends you wealth;

if you believe, you won't endure 

life's challenges against your health,

but maybe you do not want healing,

nor Heaven's prosperity.

Maybe it's a real good feeling 

to get lots of sympathy,

and maybe you don't want to work,

and just get handouts from the state.

Maybe you're a lazy jerk,

and in that you do not rate

the blessings that God would bestow,

so from our presence, kindly go.

Sylvia has no words. But then, she is a dog.

Speaking of dogs, meet Peanut, who saved my life, via Newsweek

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That Awkward Question

From time to time, the question...

Some have asked, 'Hey, what's the deal?

It does seem like a mystery.

Is your dying quite for real,

or are you seeking sympathy,

with GoFundMe in your name,

seeking help from all you reach

to capitalize on your fame

and retire on a tropic beach?'

That's really kinda hard to hear,

but yeah, it's been a long, lone time,

and it's not so very clear,

but I'm not asking for a dime.

It's something I can do without,

but I understand your doubt.

There's no GoFundMe, and I've outlived my doctor. Maybe the alcohol I use to reduce the pain enough to eat has acted as a preservative; beyond that, I have no idea why I've lasted this long.

Am I a hypochondriac, making Himalayas out of pebbles? Perhaps, but Barb has seen me ignore broken bones, third-degree burns (clumsy with the welding torch), and an impalement, and would disagree strongly.

I have no answers, and the pain of days and nights are something to dread. But I'm glad I ain't dead yet.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is NOTHING. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, and that's a good start.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained,

and thus one day it came to pass

an overreach, and so I sprained

my tightly chic and stylish a**,

and everybody laughed at me,

formed judgmental sentences.

'You shouldn't leap from a tall tree

and not expect some consequences!'

But there the tree, and there was I,

having heard that lovely song,

and I believed that I could fly,

but baby, was I ever wrong,

and the worst and final cut

was friends who signed my bandaged butt.

Just under four minutes. I had no idea where I was going with this.

Still don't.

Music from Jimmy Buffett, with Margaritaville 

Sylvia wonders if there's tequila-and-lime flavoured ice cream.

 

Establishment Clause (Tell His Story)

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof...

Thus, the Establishment Clause and the Free Exercise Clause of the First Amendment to the Constitution.

And a darn good thing. In Jolly Olde, the Monarch is the head of the state church, the Church of England.

How would you like, say, Joe Biden as our Defender of the Faith.

Sorry. I'll wait 'till you finish puking.

So we're supposed to have no officially flavoured religion, and no interference in the faith we practice.

That last bit isn't working out too well these days.

It may not be what you thought,

it may cause some consternation,

but the Founding Fathers felt we ought

not to be a Christian nation.

Our underpinnings are, yes, based

on Judeo-Christian firmament,

but they would not have us faced

with a state-run faith establishment,

and so it clearly was laid out

that all belief must be protected,

and we therefore have no call to pout

that some are raised and some neglected...

at least, that's how it's s'posed to be,

but often it's not what I see.

Sylvia knows there's a God, and that God knows there's a Sylvia. That's enough for her.

  In the absence of music (Blogger won't let me link a video on my phone), here are a couple of things pictures of Sylvia, my blog's public face, on an ice-cream run.

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Enviable Me

 Some days I'll have beer for breakfast,

other days it's rum.

Either way, I pass the test

of making my life fun.

I'll watch a profound movie,

'specially if it is Shrek,

and I am feeling groovy 

although my life's a wreck.

I thank all of my lucky stars,

and count God's blessings, too,

while I hang out at biker bars

(always something to do!),

and enjoy sweet victory 

that everybody envies me.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is FINALLY.

Finally got me to the point 

I shoulda been at all along

(no, I didn't smoke a joint,

but the wine I drank was pretty strong)

where I realized the past is done,

and all the zombies can go home.

Now it's time for having fun,

letting my laugh free to roam

across the days and 'cross the miles

of the future that's so bright 

that it will reflect my smiles

and I will need my shades at night 

for I have found the way ahead

by letting dead bury their dead.

Three minutes flat, but I am not entirely sure exactly what I said.

Music from The New Vaudeville Band, with Winchester Cathedral

Sylvia doesn't envy me. She thinks I want to be more like her. She's right.

Is Your Life A Slogan? (Tell His Story)

 Someone spoke in fervent heat

defiance that would not appease,

that you should die on your feet

and not live upon your knees.

Now, this does have great appeal

to adolescents everywhere,

who think the slogan is for real

for truly, they have not been there

to pay meet homage to the King,

to put off the masque of pride

and surrender everything,

with not a penny left to hide,

for only this way can you stand

to live or die at His right hand.

 

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Georgy Girl

 This is Bella. She's a ten-pound terrier that Barb found in a flooded ditch in 2013. Her back had been broken, and she'd been discarded.

Now she's the Alpha Dog, and fearlessly snaps at everyone. She can walk a few steps, but prefers to scoot, and she likes wearing sweaters.

Now, don't you feel dejected,

for you are not alone.

That which builders rejected 

has become the cornerstone.

People see with shadowed eyes

that emphasize their chosen part,

but God sees past the pride and lies

to look into the heart,

and seeing, knows the wealth that's there,

though ill-dressed in the meanest clothes

and suffering from real bad hair 

(and not smelling like a rose!),

but he will make of these delight,

for God's Spa Day is outta sight!

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is SOMEDAY.

Someday's gotta be today,

for time it is a-wasting,

and I must be on my way 

to catch the dreams I'm chasing.

They can run really really fast,

and leave me out of breath,

and though I am not built to last,

I won't accept the death

of sitting down with lowered head

upon the dusty road.

I will push real hard instead,

and bear whatever load

and find that pot of rainbow gold

before another year gets old.

Three minutes thirty, with an interruption.

Music from The Seekers, with Georgy Girl

Sylvia really likes spa days, and could use seven of them every week.

 

Ready To Hang With Jesus? (Tell His Story)

 

They will hate you and revile you,

curse the Gospel you hold dear

for they cannot stand Him true,

the God who is their deepest fear,

and they will try to break your heart

make you  for your faith atone.

If you refuse to play your part 

then they will gladly break each bone,

and you will let your hands be tied,

pray for them in your surrender,

for rebellion will have died 

the more often you remember

that the road to Calvary 

must be your willing destiny.

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The Stone In The Path

 On the morning after Beau's passing.

Only thirteen days, and a Great Dane can really grab hold of your heart, even as his is failing.

Barb says she feels like she's lost her security blanket.

It was heartbreaking, but knowing Beau was worth it.

I'm sorry to have been negligent in visiting your blogs, and replying to your comments. I'm on oxygen most of the time, and still have an O2 saturation averaging 85%. It does leave one tired, and makes coherent writing almost impossible.

Don't know what's causing it. Don't much care. Life goes on.

Life goes on and on and on,

times of plenty, times of lack,

and you sometimes don't know what's gone

because in trying to look back

you dash your foot against a stone 

that the Lord's placed in your way

that you might rethink, atone 

for not seeing the new day 

that God has set up just for you

just past the horizon's curve,

saying that what you must do

is reach out with joy, reach out with verve,

and leave the past to fade to air,

then turn to gold in His heart's care.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is SOME.

I used to be some kind of lucky,

dancing 'tween the raindrops' fall

and then my life got kinda sucky 

and I didn't feel the luck at all 

and looked at life with fatalism,

thinking I was born to lose,

not seeing that there was a schism 

and that it was mine to choose.

Not my fate, for that's beyond

control of any mortal man,

but rather, how I would respond

to that bright mysterious plan

that led me through my gain and loss

to sit at the foot of the cross.

Three minutes plus.