Gimmicks

The advertisement says, “With Kohl’s Cash, it’s like getting paid to shop!  Earn $10 Kohl’s Cash for every $50 spent.”  Kohl’s is always running a sale, because they want shoppers to buy things and the more shoppers they get, the more profit they make and this is how Capitalism works, as this economic system is dominated by self-expanding wealth.  My point is that if you have to spend your own money, then it is not the same thing as getting paid and if you took a course in Economics it is easy to know that there is a difference between spending and earning.  This branch of social science focuses on the production, distribution, and consumption of goods and services.

I went to Kohl’s last night to buy myself a pair of slippers and I had planned on using my Kohl’s Cash to pay for the slippers, but when I went to the check out, I was told that my Kohl’s cash had already expired.  It took me a month of waiting time after a $250 purchase that I made to get my $50 Kohl’s Cash, but I did not know that this Kohl’s Cash would expire a month later.  It can only be used after the redemption period has opened up and before the redemption period closes, so you can only use it in a narrow window.  Apparently, they only want to reward those repeat customers who will shop there all the time, so I had to pay $16 for my slippers, which was not that bad of a deal, as they were on sale.  I enjoy shopping at Kohl’s, because it is close to where I live and the store is always very clean.  It can look messy at times with people knocking stuff off the shelves and leaving it there, but their floors are always sparkling clean.

Anyway, I got outside last night and I got to see all the Christmas lights around the neighborhood on display, and some were really beautiful.  It brought back memories of when I went with my nephew and his family to see the Christmas Light Show in Clemons, NC called the Tanglewood Park Festival of Lights, which has more than a million twinkling lights located around a golf course that you drive through over four miles of country road.  Some of the interactive displays play festive music that you can enjoy.  This is the largest holiday light display in the entire Southeast and it is a great way to spend time with your family over the Christmas holiday season.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver #254 hosted by Michael – Christmas story.

Now What

Jack climbed up the beanstalk to reach the magic castle and the giant greeted him and asked Jack if he wanted to invest in bitcoins.  Jack told the friendly giant that he had no idea what bitcoins were, or where he would even put them.  The giant told Jack that he would not need a wallet or a purse to store his bitcoins in, as they are digital and that all he would get is a long string of 34 letters and numbers and these 34 characters would consist of random digits made out of uppercase and lowercase letters, however the uppercase letter “O”, uppercase letter “I”, lowercase letter “l”, and the number “0” were never used to prevent visual ambiguity.  Jack said that he always had problems discerning uppercase letter “O” with the number “0” and that he could see the uppercase letter “I” being mistaken for lowercase letter “l”, but he had no idea what he could do with these bitcoins.

The giant told Jack that would be up to him as here in the magic castle their only concern was validating all the transactions.  The giant said that they make chains of data that validate the bitcoin that you decide to send to somebody, and that they ensure that it hasn’t already been sent to someone else.  The bitcoin address is the key, as it keeps a record of all of your transactions, and therefore it knows your balance.  The whole world can see this sequence of 34 characters; thus, it is known as your “public key”, but the good news is that you also get another corresponding “private key” that consists of another string of 64 letters and numbers.  The two keys are related, but there’s no way that anyone can figure out your private key from just having your public key.  If you decide to use your bitcoins you will need to get bitcoin software on your computer or smartphone and have internet access so that you’re your bitcoin address can be “signed” with your private key.  The program will spit out a digital signature, for us to use so we can validate your transaction.  The giant said that this pretty simple method was the way of the future.

Jack acknowledged that he was able to follow what the giant was telling him, but he told the giant that he still had no idea what he could use the bitcoins for.  The giant told Jack that he would be getting to that, but first they needed to discuss the hash function.  Jack told the giant that he was no novice at smoking hash and that he just did a bowl of some black opiated Pakistani before he climbed up the beanstalk to get to the magic castle.  The giant said that is great, but the hash that he wanted to discuss produces a “hash function”, which is a complex math equation that reduces any amount of text or data to 64-character string.  This particular data will confirm that your transaction has not been tampered with as each block of data, includes a hash that links back to the previous block and this is what makes the Bitcoin virtually tamper-proof.

The giant told Jack that the bitcoin is a cryptocurrency and that it only exists online and that he could use it to buy or sell items from people and companies that accept bitcoin as payment.  The giant said that for each bitcoin transaction, a computer owned by a bitcoin “miner” must solve a difficult mathematical problem.  The miner then receives a fraction of a bitcoin as a reward.  The system functions around the clock and it doesn’t care where or to whom you send the money.  Jack told the giant that he was not interested in bitcoins and all this information was making him sleepy and then he asked the giant if he wanted to sell that goose which he saw outside of the magic castle.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver #253 hosted by Michael – magic castle fairy tale.

I Am Going There

Henry David Thoreau said, “I once had a sparrow alight upon my shoulder for a moment, while I was hoeing in a village garden, and I felt that I was more distinguished by that circumstance that I should have been by any epaulet I could have worn.”  Hoeing in this sentence is the present participle of hoe, the act of digging, weeding, etc. with a hoe.  There is a different kind of hoe, like those girls that have tattoos all over their body, face piercings and other body piercings, just so they can be noticed or maybe a better word is slut.  When a woman goes out with a gang of guys and sleeps with all types of random guys, not caring if they are married or not, this is known as jodhoeing.

Once you are a slut, you will always be a slut.  These women enjoy the attention, so they go around wearing skimpy revealing clothing, short skirts and transparent, sheer, see through tops that show off all of their assets, or they may even expose their breasts more by not wearing a bra.  I’m all for women wearing, or not wearing, whatever they want and when a woman decides to wear less clothing, that is a philosophy that I can get behind.  However, once they start going down that path of freedom and they feel empowered by the control that they have over others, and they stop wearing a bra or their panties, this becomes their subtle way of communicating that they want sex.  At first, they may stop wearing a bra and panties to have their own little secret that they are hiding from everyone and say that this is for comfort and it is heathy to get air around their vagina, so going commando is no one’s business.  This is no longer harmless teasing when it escalates into a malicious attention seeking behavior done by an exhibitionist, that intentionally wants to flash men her private parts.  Some of these girls absolutely love it when the wind blows up their skirts and they even enjoy shopping for shoes, positioning themselves so the salesman will get a good view.

These women want to be naughty and they want to direct people to look at them while saying, “do you like what I have”, as by giving someone a flash is frankly what gives them the charge they are seeking.  They get aroused at the thought of exposing themselves in public, they know exactly what they are doing and they make no effort to deter any looks putting in every effort to provide anyone that is interested in looking an unobstructed view.  It becomes a way of life for these women as they feel that a good tease is as good as an orgasm to them, and this is not done to save on laundry.  Once they build up their confidence of being free, they start exposing themselves going up and down the stairs and getting in and out of vehicles to encourage that surprised look and get that big smile.  Some have even dared to go bouncing up and down on a trampoline to get that Marilyn Monroe feeling.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver #252 hosted by Michael – Making Sense of Nonsense – jodhoeing.

Get A Job

This song was written by Richard Lewis before he became a member of the Silhouettes, when he was in the US army in the early 1950s and after he came home and didn’t go to work right away, his mother told him to “Get a job”.  The song was released on their 1958 album Get A Job and the single reached #1 in the US, but it was the only single by the Silhouettes to make the national charts.  Sha-Na-Na took their name from the “Sha na na na, sha na na na na” refrain in this song and they performed it at Woodstock in 1969.

The doo wop group consisted of William Horton, Richard Lewis, Earl T. Beal, and Raymond Edwards, but this song also had Rollee McGill on saxophone, Orlando “Slim” Howard on piano and James “Coatesville” Harris on drums.  The lyrics discuss unemployment and domestic relationships, with the woman of the house nagging the man to find work, implying that he is both lazy and dishonest.

Sha na na na – sha na na na na
Sha na na na – sha na na na na
Sha na na na – sha na na na na
Sha na na na – sha na na na na
Dip dip dip dip dip dip dip dip
Mum mum mum mum mum mum
Get a job
Sha na na na – sha na na na na

Every morning about this time
She gets me out of my bed a-crying
Get a job

After breakfast every day
She throws the want ads right my way
And never fails to say
Get a job

Sha na na na – sha na na na na
Sha na na na – sha na na na na
Sha na na na – sha na na na na
Sha na na na – sha na na na na
Dip dip dip dip dip dip dip dip
Mum mum mum mum mum mum
Get a job
Sha na na na – sha na na na na

And when I get the paper
I read it through and through
And my girl never fails to say
If there is any work for me

And when I go back to the house
I hear the woman’s mouth
Preaching and a-crying
Tell me that I’m lying
About a job
That I never could find

Sha na na na – sha na na na na
Sha na na na – sha na na na na
Sha na na na – sha na na na na
Sha na na na – sha na na na na
Dip dip dip dip dip dip dip dip
Mum mum mum mum mum mum
Get a job
Sha na na na – sha na na na na

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver – #251 hosted by Michael – November 28 – Job.

Content Having Nothing

About 360 BC, Diogenes the Cynic, Diogenes of Sinope (404-323 BC) who was a Greek philosopher that lived a very poor and ascetic life, took up residence in a large wine cask (some sources claim it was an abandoned bathtub).  He got rid of his belongings, and maintained a diet of just onions and the only possession that he kept was a wooden cup, which also served as a bowl so he was able to eat his food and drink water.  One day, Diogenes was passing a stream, when he saw a boy drinking water out of his cupped hands.  He thought, “A child has beaten me in simplicity”, so he threw away his cup. The boy asked him “Why did you throw away your cup?”

Diogenes replied, “I never saw anyone drink water by cupping their hands and I figured that I should not be deprived of such a joy.  The wooden cup that I tossed away had no feelings and when I would fill it up with water, I felt nothing from it.  Now when I fill my hands with water, they will be able to feel a connection with the water, they will feel the coolness of water and its life-giving energy.  My spirit will enter the water through my hands, and it will come alive and I will be drinking that also.”

Diogenes cupped his hands in the stream and drank water from them and then he started dancing.  Diogenes said, “I have been a fool for using a dead vessel to drink my water from, because it made the water dead.  But now the energy and the heat from my hands is not able to pass through to the water and this is insulting to the water.”  Diogenes realized that he did not need a cup to sustain himself.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver – #250 hosted by Michael – November 21 – Cup.

She Was Not There

We met on the internet and we chatted all the time and then I decided to go and meet Dorcas.  I was in North Carolina and she lived in London and I knew that I should have just moved on, because this was not going to work out.  On the surface we seemed perfect for each other, with me being newly divorced and her having just broken it off with her boyfriend.  She worked as a secretary and I had just started a new job, but I told my boss that I wanted to take a week’s vacation and go on a holiday, which he approved.  If things worked out, she was going to return with me.  I booked a flight and she was going to meet me in Gatwick outside of the customs area.  My 8-hour flight actually took place over a 13 hour period, because London is 5 hours ahead.  I took off from Charlotte at 8 PM and landed in London at 9 AM.  I didn’t get much sleep on the flight and I was looking forward to getting some rest when I got to her place.  I was not sure if my cell phone would work in Great Briton, but I had her address and her home phone number and I figured I could always find her on the internet.

I was going to stay at her place and after all of the flirting we did with each other, I was really looking forward to this holiday.  Customs was crowded and the line was taking forever, but two hours after I landed, I was done.  I looked for Dorcas and I did not see her, and since my cell did not seem to be getting any reception, I went to a pay phone and called her number.  It went to her voice mail and I told her about the long line at customs and figured that she was on her way back to her place.  I thought it was a bit rude that she didn’t wait for me, but I didn’t make a big deal out of it.  I told her that I would be at her place soon.  I didn’t know my way around London, but I got some help from this guy who told me that it would be best for me to take a train and then get off at London Bridge Station and from there I could get a cab to take me the rest of the way.

I got into a cab and told the cab driver that I wanted to go to Huntingdon which is north of London and I asked him how much it would cost to get there.  He said that it was about 90 kilometers and it would cost about 130 £ and it would be cheaper for me to take a train.  I told him that I just got off a train and I went into the story about Dorcas not being at the airport for me and that I just wanted to relax as this was my holiday, so the price was fine.  He said that it was an hour drive and he asked me if I was hungry as it was lunch time.  He said that if I liked, he could show me around London and point out the sights to me and I said that sounds like fun.

We stopped at the Greenwich Observatory and we both had a sandwich, I had a beer and he drank a soda.  I picked up the tab because he seemed like a nice guy and he had real interesting stories.  After lunch we crossed the Tames and drove past the Eye of London, Trafalgar Square, Downing Street, Buckingham Palace and Big Ben.  An hour later we arrived at the address that Dorcas Robinson gave me.  He asked me if I needed help with my bags and I told him that I could manage and after I paid him, he said he would stick around just in case there were any problems.  I didn’t think that was necessary, but since I gave him a big tip I said it was fine.  I saw these two guys in the apartment complex and I asked them where apartment 909 was.  The one guy said that there were only 6 buildings here and that there was no 909.  The other guy made a joke and said that maybe I was looking for the one after 909.

I took out my cell phone and I showed them a picture of Dorcas and neither one of them recognized her.  The cab driver was watching all this and he asked me what I wanted to do, so I said I was real tired and I should probably check into a hotel and get some rest.  He knew a Holiday Inn that was near by and he took me there and I checked in.  I got some rest and then I turned my laptop on to see if Dorcas had sent me an email, but she did not contact me.  I wrote to her and told her what hotel I was at and that she had given me the wrong address.  I felt like Bob Dylan stuck inside of Huntingdon with the London Blues.

I called Dorcas at the number she gave me but it kept going to her machine and I was getting a bit worried about her, but mostly I was mad, as this holiday was not turning out as I had planned. Two days later I got an email from Dorcas saying that she was stuck in Nigeria and that she needed me to send her $400. I had sent her money before, so she could buy herself a new dress for her birthday and I also had flowers sent to her where she works, but I was not born yesterday and it felt like she was scamming me. I asked her why she didn’t meet me at the airport and why she was in Nigeria and she said that there was something wrong with her visa and she had to go there to straighten it out. I also told her that she gave me the wrong address and that all my calls were going to her voicemail.

She said that she was crying and I caved in and sent her money on Western Union.  I asked her when she was going to be back and she said as soon as her paperwork was fixed.  I told her that she was stupid for not planning this out better and I told her that she ruined my vacation.  I said coo, coo, ca-choo Dorcas Robinson this is the last time that I will ever send money to you and if we meet that is fine and if we don’t, I am OK with that.  There wasn’t much to do in Huntingdon, so I checked out of the Holiday Inn and went to London and checked into a Hilton.  I decided to enjoy myself and I never met Dorcas.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver – #249 hosted by Michael – November 14 – Holiday.

My First Bralette

I became aware that I needed a bra when I was a tween as my bosoms started budding, but I was reluctant to take the leap into womanhood.  My dilemma was compounded by me being the only child of a single dad after my mom passed away.  I knew the basics of straps, cups, underwire and padding, but I was not into frilly things.  I wanted something that would hide my nipples, as the boys did seem to be looking differently at me and that made me feel insecure.  I knew that I was approaching puberty, as in Fifth Grade we learned about male and female body parts, pubic hair, menstruation, periods, erections, nocturnal emissions, hormones and all that awkward stuff, but lucky for me, I was not the first girl in my class to develop breasts.

Several of my friends were wearing bras and I decided to start looking at the different styles online to see what would work for me.  I didn’t want a training bra, as I remember when the boys found out that Susie was wearing a training bra, they asked her what kind of tricks she was going to be able to do with her tits.  I could probably use a sports bra, one that would be sturdy enough to minimize breast movement, and also alleviate discomfort, as I wanted to play soccer.  I knew that I was not ready for a cupped bra, a padded bra, a strapless bra, a pushup bra, or a wired bra yet, but the bralette looked interesting to me and I decided that is what I would shop for.  The bralettes seemed like a better alternative to me instead of going with the bra, being more comfortable because they are wire free and I didn’t need all that much support yet.  I wanted to be comfortable and have something that was less constricting, something that was not going to be too tight, because I didn’t want anything that would leave red marks or indentions in my skin.

I could wear the bralette as a layering piece offering me coverage if I wore a low-cut tank top, or a revealing blouse with open armholes, or a top with a deep V-neck.  If it was made of thick enough material, it would minimize the protrusion of my nipples under my clothing and that was important to me.  There were still plenty of decisions for me to make, as I wasn’t sure if I wanted one that was made from microfibre, lace or a cotton blend and there are also various styles and patterns that I needed to consider.  Another thing for me to decide was whether I should go with the front or back closure, or would a pull-on style work better for me.  I guess I also needed to consider what color would work best for me and if I should look at bralettes with flower or butterfly patterns on them and the more I learned, the more difficult I realized that this shopping was going to be.  I knew that shopping was going to be a big part of my life and in the future, I would be purchasing lingerie to make me look good and wearing undergarments like boyshorts and thongs that would empower me and make me feel like a sexy woman.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver – #245 hosted by Michael – October 17 – Shopping.

Alone Again

Neil Diamond said that he would remain a solitary man until he could find the girl who would stay with him and won’t play games.  George Thorogood sang ‘I Drink Alone’, Bill Withers said there ‘Ain’t No Sunshine’ when you are gone, while Céline Dion wanted to be all by herself.  Around 1903, Edward Hopper painted his Solitary Figure in a Theater when he was barely in his twenties, before he made his famous trip to Paris to discover the French avant-garde.  Hopper achieved success with this stripped-down image and this uniquely urban and desolate realist developed a style that was existentially isolated being engaged in transcendental silence.  This smallish monochromatic oil painting may have been inspired by the early silent black and white movies of the time.  Linda Pastan an American poet of Jewish background wrote a poem to explain this painting.

An empty theatre: seats
shrouded in white
like rows of headstones;
the curtain about to rise
(or has it fallen?)
on a scene
of transcendental
silence.

And the audience?
A solitary figure sheathed
in black, a woman
in a hat perhaps
(more abstract
shape than woman)
sitting alone
in the cavernous dark.

This is quintessential Hopper—
cliché of loneliness
transformed by brushstroke
into something part paint,
part desperation.
“Oil on board,” the label says,
as if even a tree
had to be sacrificed.

Hopper painted a lone female figure, sitting in the front row with her elbow gently propped up against an armrest, and her left hand is holding something white, perhaps a program or paper.  Hopper paid great attention to the nonhuman ingredients of the theater, like the shafts of light piercing through seat backs, the large, open gray stage curtain above the woman’s head, one which makes her look tiny as it takes up almost half of the painting.  Hopper conjured a moment between shows and painted the solitude of waiting or lingering.  He evoked the morbidity and redundancy of theater space in the absence of its crowd.

Hopper’ base primer is a thick light gray.  The rich texture of horizontal, wavy bands along with layers of darker gray and then smokier gray diagonal and vertical brushwork are dotted with flecks of white.  This lends an uncertain spatial value to everything in the painting, making it hard to pin down exact physical placement and relations.  The painting was bituminized, (Bitumen is a naturally-occurring, non-drying, tarry substance used in paint mixtures, especially to enrich the appearance of dark tones and this became very popular as a paint additive in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries) creating an ageing effect which produced a sense of dust, further enhancing this sense of elusive dimensions and properties.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver #244 hosted by Michael – October 10 – Why is your figure solitary and the song above pretty much sums this up for me.

Make Me Happy

It doesn’t take much to make me happy, as all I need is a good night’s sleep to be in a decent mood for the day.  From reading WordPress posts, I realize that there are a lot of people out there that are suffering from depression.  I went through some rough times, but I never got depressed, because I realize that things could always get worse, so I always count my blessings.  I could be in prison and forced to listen to nothing but Rap music all day and have a cell mate that snores at night.  It is the best of times, it is the worst of times, and the glass is half full attitude makes life become more stressful, so it is best to cheer up.  Antidepressant drugs and therapists have created a whole generation of depressed people that seem to have nothing better to do than complain.

Suck it up and carry on, as no one can change your life except for you.  Nobody ever said that life was going to be a rose garden, you make your choices and you need to learn how to live with them.  You need take hold of your life and make something out of it.  If you don’t have a place to lay your head, because somebody came along and took your bed, don’t worry, be happy.  Imagine how the world could be for you and me, we could be so happy together, love can make us happy. To be in love with a beautiful woman would make me so very happy and put me back in the high life again.  What a wonderful world it could be if everyone could find happiness.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver – #242 – September 26 – Happiness hosted by Michael.

Wading Into The Waters

Asclepius started out as a man, a physician who treated wounded soldiers on the battlefield at Troy, but later, he become elevated to the status of a god.  The Greeks created a cult around Asclepius, and he became the pagan god of healing. Devotion to Asclepius was widespread throughout the lands dominated by the Roman Empire.  Snakes were a key component of Asclepius’s cult of health and healing.  Even today, one of the key symbols of modern medicine is a pole with a snake wrapped around it.  During the Hellenistic period, the Greeks built these ancient healing centers, all across the Greek Empire and there were more than 400 healing centers throughout the Roman Empire functioning to meet the needs of sick people.  The ill and disabled would congregate at these regional healing centers.  They would drink and bathe in the waters and then sleep within the temple’s walls.  They slept on mats laid which were supposed to induce divine dreams, that would give the sick clues about their healing.

The Greeks attributed the healing powers of natural springs to spirits.  The cult of Asklepius built their temples near sacred springs with shallow pools and baths.  Participants would wait by the water, praying, fasting, chanting, etc., until Asklepius or his helpful “serpent spirits” churned the water.  In Bethesda there were two Roman Pagan pools, one dedicated to Fortuna the goddess of fortune and the other to Asclepius god of healing.  The stirring up of the water was part of a ceremony when the priests of the Asclepius temple opened the connecting pipes between the higher and the lower portions of the pool. Because one set of pipes was higher than the other, this caused a “stirring” of the water in the pool.  When bubbles or ripples made their way from the spring to the pool, this was considered to be the best time for a healing miracle.

The Gospel story (John 5:1-3) tells that Jesus came to Jerusalem and healed a man at the Pool of Bethesda.  In John’s scripture it says that an angel went down at a certain season into the pool and troubled the water.  That whosoever stepped in was made whole.  People were told that at certain times of the day, an angel would stir up the waters in the pool and whoever would enter the water first, after it was stirred up, would be cured.  Many sick, blind, lame, or paralyzed people come there every day and they wait for the waters to move, so they could be the first to wade into the healing water to be cured of whatever disease they had.

John 5:1-3 New International Version The Healing at the Pool
5:1 Sometime later, Jesus went up to Jerusalem for one of the Jewish festivals. 5:2 Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades.  5:3 Here a great number of disabled people used to lie—the blind, the lame, the paralyzed.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver – #240 – September 12 – Wading.