Blogging from a Rabbit Hole

I recently went to the Doc and asked her to prescribe me something to help me sleep. This night shift shit is for the birds. She gave me a bag and smiled.

"Here, take these 'shrooms before bed. You'll sleep like a baby."

Actually, she didn't say that. What she really said was,

"Here's a prescription for Ambien. You'll sleep like a baby."

But I quickly learned she might as well have prescribed the fungi. I woke up the other night in my closet with a half eaten bag of Cracker Jacks and some Marty guy's Shaefer pen, who apparently likes to have things inscribed with 'Marty the Man'
Actually that last part may have been partially concocted, but I think some of it is true. Well, maybe not. Probably not.
See?! That's the shitty thing about this drug whose name we do not speak. It takes your memory of anything that happens post consumption.

Ambien is a Satan drug!

But I don't call it that because I think it was pharmaceutically engineered with the tears of Lucifer himself or anything. Nor do I trip so hard on Ambien that I think I am Satan wanting to eat babies or anything else. Ambien is a Satan drug because it slyly commandeers your most precious possession. It gives you your present. It gives you the time you think you have and assume you will have memory of tomorrow, but no. It harvests the memories after the good times were had, like a rapist tossing you a Kleenex as you curl in the fetal position.

"C'mon Ambien! I'll give up the actual good time being had, as long as I can have a precious memory of it! Please! I'm on my knees for you Ambien, AKA Zolpidem Tartrate.
Ha Ha. What a stupid name. I was kind of expecting Luciferous phosphate or maybe Beelzebubromim."

"Either way, give me my memories. Where are you keeping them? I can't stand not knowing whether I made that ravioli and ate it, or did my wife eat it before she left yesterday. I need to know if I picked the house up after my wife asked me to, or did she come home, find it in disarray and angrily clean it herself? Did I watch Keith Olberman last night or do I have to watch the TiVo today? Tell me Ambien!
This is futile! You're getting the garbage disposal. (Gasps from crowd) Yes, I know, it's been 666 years since we have utilized the garbage disposal, but this memory snatcher deserves it"

"Any last words Zolpidem?"

"vell, vhy vould I spik? I vill not vemember it in a moment anyvay."

"Noooo! It is I who have become a memory snatcher by means of savagery. I grant you a pardon Zolpi."
"But whatever will you do, master?"
" I don't know. I'm rather tired after all that. Guess I'll just take an Ambien."
.

Turtle Man

Oh, the Ironic Hypocrisy

baby mop

Chris and Matt

Chris and Matt,
I won't kid myself and act like there are hundreds of people who need this information and would be very upset with me if I didn't inform them of my new blog, so to my two followers: go to www.thesaltydog.wordpress.com
I will still maintain this blog with minimal overlap.

"And Your Pets Will Love It, Too!"

Because who wouldn't love to have a sandwich baggy strapped to their sphincter while cuttin' a log?

Nostalgia and Optimism Apparently Don't Mix

Oh, the balance of life! What an elusive, fickle creature. It exists in every thing we see and do. It is omnipresent, yet non-existant at the same time. If you refuse to see it, your naivety will dominate and you certainly never will. Yet if you open your eyes and look, with only a basic knowledge of its existence, it will proudly expose itself like that creepy, moustached math teacher I had in middle school.

It's the age-old, overused concept of the Yin and the Yang. With every bit of "good" in the world, there is a counter balancing "bad" to accompany it. It's just how it is. Every adorable, cooing, potential-filled baby that is born is also one more mouth to exhaust our agricultural resources. It's one more potential rapist, murderer, litterer, jay walker and illegal file-sharing song downloader. Every vow exchanged in the presence of a benevolent god is one more potentially destructive, possessive, bitter, jealous relationship heading toward a life-destroying divorce, or worse yet, an adorable, cooing, potential filled baby. My point: Nothing is 100% good.

I wish old people would realize this. I wish they could look back at their personal days of yore in a realistic way and remember the shitty times and the corrupt government and the lies and the murders and the cults and the wars, not just the sunny days spent eating ice cream in Mayberry. Because when they fail to recognize that bad things happened back then, they think that all the bad things that are happening now are new.

But old people are funny like that. They like to focus on the yin of yore, and they yang of now, not realizing both exist at all times. They fail to see the good of today, the improvements made since their childhood, and the overall betterment of society, because their skewed version of the past leaves them with a rather unbalanced comparison.

But all that is okay. I'm all about old people getting their jollies off on fond memories of summer days on the farm and simple livin'. Days before corrupt governments and inflation and billboards and big government came along. But when their pessimistic mentality starts to wear off on the youth and drain the momentum of good people who respect their elders' opinions, I have a major problem. When an unrealistic version of human history contorts the path of humanity's future, I have an enormous problem.

The fact is, there are great things happening now just as there were great things happening fifty years ago, and there were horrible, violent, catastrophic, unfair things happening fifty years ago just as there are now. Society never improves or degrades. It just changes.

When I was first learning how to ride a motorcycle, my dad would always say, "look where you want to go, and the bike will follow." Well, right now the people of this country are staring into the ditch, and unless they stop comparing today to a fictional past and start embracing the awesomeness shadowed by tragedy, that's exactly where they are cruising.