The Knight and the Acolyte Book 8 Chapter 9 The Knight s Passion
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Late Night Random Thoughts free porn video
Most people use the phrase, ‘the corners of my mind.’ There’s even a song with that phrase in it. It popped into my mind a while back and I thought about it. I don’t have any corners in my mind. There doesn’t seem to be some old box up there, with a lid on it. My thoughts feel as though they are in a whirlwind and random pieces fly out of the eddy at an amazing velocity sometimes. As though they were spewed out as debris is from the funnel of a tornado. A piece of roofing here, a piece of timber there. Oh look, there’s a tree branch. At times, that is the closest thing to order with which my mind can function. Some times I can control it and order it to ‘sit-stay’, yanking on the leash and holding it close, but not often.
At times I have tried to send it to obedience school. Utter failure. I must admit that I do enjoy ‘free’ thinking and random thoughts. However, I wonder how much would have been made had I gotten a penny for each of my thoughts over the years instead of wasting my time on free thinking? Would they be pretty pennies or just the usual, run of the mill pennies? Utter chaos.
It’s hard to explain to an employer that you were just wondering about Hither, Thither and Yon, wondering if it were possible to go from Hither directly to Yon, bypassing Thither when you should have been concentrating on your job. Then on the other hand, you have another hand. Do people really put their socks and shoes on and then lie about it and say they put their shoes and socks on? Be an awful lot of badly stretched socks the way they usually describe the operation.
It’s endless and boundless. When I see a pretty picture, I want to look at it, so why do many people with tattoos get them where they can’t see them? If a person walks into a chilly room and gives a warm smile, how many BTUs are generated by that warmth? How many lumens are generated by a bright smile? Is it enough to light up a dark room? Maybe if they hold that smile for 20 minutes it might turn on a small LED. Let’s see, 11 muscles to smile. The body has to generate a certain amount of current to operate those muscles. How much for 1 muscle, times 11, then hold for 20 minutes? Then calculate how many calories can be produced from that much electricity. Then easily convert calories to heat. If one wants light, the electricity generated by the operation of those muscles requires only a little math to find out what size LED it would illuminate. It only took a weekend to find the facts and figures on those last two. I can’t quit and do not think I want to, really, as being used to this chaos is far more comfortable than with mundane thoughts anymore.
I keep myself busy and often amused by this motley mix of random thoughts. I am fascinated by, and must admit that addicted to multiple redundancies. They creep, crawl, maneuver, and step in my speech as well as writings constantly. I like to reiterate, recapitulate and repeat as a hobby. It’s fun. But then I’m walking and admiring the trowel finish of the concrete sidewalk. Why is concrete grey when the cement is made from marble? Oh, that’s right, they heat, cook or bake the marble to get cement, don’t they? That’s why it changes color. I know cookie dough changes color when baked. And the result tastes far better than concrete, too.
I believe I came by it honestly. One time, my father was ill and had to stay home to recuperate. He wondered why their house was usually dusty. They had to wipe the furniture almost daily. Where did all that come from? Then came a thought. It was more than a glimmer of an idea. After measuring the front footage of their property, he phoned the city street department to inquire about the amount of traffic in front of their house in an average days time. Now some facts were at hand. Dividing the width of their property into 5,280 feet, a mile, there was a working fraction. Taking the number of cars that passed by the house in a day and multiplied by four, the number of tires on a car, has given him another piece of the puzzle. He then calculated the number of miles in the life of the average tire, times the number of tires, divided by the fractional distance and came to the conclusion that a tire tread a day was being ground into dust in front of his house each day. No wonder they had to keep dusting the furniture. That type of thinking is what I inherited.
I had oriental food the other day and my fortune cookie said it was up to me to create my own adventures. Define an adventure. To some, just eating out is an adventure, to others, entering a cage of lions is an adventure. Now I just have to find something in between. The road less traveled? But if I go on it, won’t it be more traveled? So much pondering, so much to think about.
I bought two things from the grocery store yesterday and my receipt was 13 inches long. Weren’t the digital world and computers supposed to make ours a paperless society? Another multitude of things to ponder and query, causing a shortage of short of time today. I think some of this could be put off until tomorrow. But then, tomorrow will be today and there we go, all over again.
Hey, there’s a guy on a late night TV cooking show right now, telling people how to make tarts. I made a tart once. She wore a fruity fragrance and possessed a couple of apple-sized appendages. Delicious. Not sure what other fruits were represented but no cherries were involved. That’s a different story for another time.
Oh oh. I ate at an Asian restaurant again for lunch today and my fortune cookie had no fortune in it. Now I’m worried. Does that mean I have no future? Wow, that thought brought me from wide asleep to sound awake.
What about the kids? They have just gotten their pride back after many years of being under a cloud. A medium sized cumulonimbus, to be exact. Their father was no longer a mensa dropout. My reapplication has been reaccepted after many years of abstinence. I was bored the first time around and became post-teen dropout.
This morning, the TV weatherman said there was patchy fog. That seems to be the usual name they all use. Why isn’t there any Hopi fog, or Navajo fog? Maybe even Pawnee or Cherokee fog? Don’t the other tribes have any weather, or did the Apache tribe bribe the weather bureau to use only their name? Hurricanes are ecumenical, alternating male and female names, and they are monstrous weather cells. Yet, fog seems to only be solid, pea soup, or patchy. But then again, why just pea soup rather than tomato or bullion? Oh my god, now I’m hungry. Perhaps I’ll get up and get a snack. It seems as though I’m hungry 62 and 17/64 percent of the time, as it is.
Have to watch my diet. I should try to eat more wholesome snacks. Say, there’s a good idea, more snacks. Maybe some of those new, lite, diet snacks. What’s lighter, a bag of potato chips or a pizza? I’ll have to sample both in order to give an unbiased opinion. I wouldn’t want to starve to death from eating the wrong foods. My wife, however, says that I wouldn’t starve to death if I went without food for about 6 months and she claims my protruding waistline proves it. Admittedly, although I am no longer the sylph self that married her, my profile still looks damn slim next to her brother. Then, consider her sister. I’ve seen smaller refrigerators. Oh boy, don’t get started there. Close that door and turn out the light.
Son of a gun, the pepperoni is backing up on me and the heartburn is keeping me awake. I can’t get to sleep. These midnight refrigerator raids sure eat into my sleep time. The morning nap will have to be extended to make up for it. I don’t want to start my afternoon nap too tired. That’s one of many luxuries retirement has to offer. Another one is the fact Uncle Sam sends a nice check the first of every month, just for waking up every morning. It’s the best job I’ve ever had. I tried a lot of occupations over the years and finally found the one I was best suited for- retirement.
There you have it, a portion of my life and thinking. I won’t say, ‘In a nutsh
ell,’ as that would call up the query of what type of nut, and I’m not going there. Good night. Or because it’s past midnight, should I say good morning? Or—
Aspen
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