Happy Roman Capital Punishment Day

Friends, Romans, Countrymen. It is I, Cosmicus Wieicus Awesomus. And today, we joyfully celebrate the eve of cheap flowers and candy day. Be sure to reward yourselves, citizens, for enduring the equivalent of Saint Food's Day in the land of Starvin' Marvin. Where people go around bragging about their super duper bacon burgers with extra cheese and curly fries when the rest of us can't even get half a freakin pack of Romulan Noodles. Damn you, Commander Tomalok! The Romulan Star Empire, and the warbird you rode in on! Give me noodles! ... And GIVE ME GENESIS! "Oooh, I looooove my super double bacon burger with cheese. We are sooooo best friends!" GAH!!!! Am I jealous? No. It's just that you, Admiral Cu-Piet, have failed me for the last time! You have got until galactic sunset to make my love totally swoon and fall into my arms, or it's the spice mines of Kessel for you! Don't think I'll do it? Just ask 3PO over there. "Oh, my, goodness gracious me!" Oh, well. I started the subject, so I might as well continue. Angel, my angel, my dearest dream. It could almost drive me crazy (but in a good way). Those fleeting moments, so close, yet infinity far away. I can so clearly sense how it could be, if only, if only, if only. But of course, it isn't. I do my best to walk the line between dream and delusion, knowing reality for what it is (and for what it isn't). And so, I am left to be content in relishing the moments that I can, only to deeply miss them whan they have passed me by, when everything, absolutely everything, has passed me by. I take heart in the moments that I can separate myself from those thoughts that bring me down. And there are those, of course. An old style computer nerd such as myself is Cyber Merlin in the realm of ancient machines. Not so much elsewhere. Unrequited love is a hell of a thing, my friends. Especially when you see the object of that love most every day. Too many struggles and not enough snuggles.There is not one sense of mine that such a presence does not so sublimely inspire. An angel by any other name would just not be the same. Inspired, yes, but forever hungry, relegated to the desert of loneliness, somewhere beyond the central mountains of the ancient supercontinent of Friendzonia. It's not fun. It's a total bummer, dude. I honestly wish I didn't feel this way. It does nothing for her, and it sure as hell doesn't help me either. It's the same old long song, isn't it? Just like Marty Balin sang with the airplane, it's no secret. It's nothing new either. I'd tell you. And I'd tell her (if she asked). I think I already have in a thousand roundabout ways, fishing trips for any sign of reciprocity. Red Holland, I am most definitely not. Come on in, satellite!Meanwhile, logic doesn't sway me. It takes a lot to change the way I feel. It's just another day in this life. May the Empire never fall. Okay. Guess what time it is, Pee Wee? What time? CLEAN CUP MOVE DOWN TIME!! Two things one can learn from watching "Nice Dreams" are: (1.) Pee Wee's first big adventure was doing coke under the table. "I'M NOT SORRY I TOOK THE MONEY ARRAR!" (2.) If you send Tommy Chong to find a doctor, Naturally, it is going to be Timothy Leary. "Are you sure you want the key?" "ARE YOU SURE YOU WANNA BE FREE?" That dude got to be young twice. Once in the 40s, and again in the 60s. He even became friends with one of the FBI agents who busted him. Oh, and that FBI agent? G. Gordon Liddy. He himself got busted for the Watergate break-in. And later, he went on to play the coolest bad guy ever on Miami Vice, Captain Real Estate. Okay, the second coolest bad guy next to Frank Zappa. Zappa had a way with words. "He hurried away with three million of my favorite dollars." It's hard to top such a line. So, Zappa for the win. You know? In the city of Gotham, sometimes you don't want to do this. But sometimes you have to do this. Because sometimes you're Batman. Actually I can't recall ever being Batman. I'd rather be plain 'ol billionaire Bruce Wayne. Then I'd take my Mucho Buckazoids and leave Gotham for a nice country estate. Yep. It's all yours, Joker. A bit of bat advice before I go. Be nicer to Harley Quinn, will ya? She's quite the catch. In reality folks, I'm only the pizza guy. ...And not the one from those movies. I'm not Louey Da Plummah, either! And it's cloth rolls, not pizza... (or pizza roles). And remember I, like Philip J Fry am only the delivery boy. If the Noid absolutely decimates the pizza, it's not on me. Blame it all on da Noid. Okay, I think this AI insanity has gotten out of hand. So far, I only like the Star Wars stuff with Luke, Vader, or Anakin and Padme. That's cool stuff. The rest. Pretty damn dumb. Do you know how to pick out a robot channel on YouTube? When it reads 1945 as "one thousand nine hundred and forty five." It's a robot. A fairly dumb robot at that. Then, there is the other AI effect. People on social media posting AI generated images of themselves, with perfectly toned bodies no less. He or she may be 300 pounds, but not in AI, apparently. It sure could take catfishing to a whole new level. As Cheech Marin once said, "Hey! That's false advertising, man!" I wonder if it's because I resolve to put my true self (or as close I can get) out there that nobody's knocking down my door. More likely, it's because I sometimes get a bit too gloomy and heavy in my expression. Not all of the time. I think I have an awesome sense of humor. Of course I would. It's me, after all. Still, what is the point if I can't express how I am truly feeling? It does not get out of my head if I can't get it onto the page. Though it's not that anybody on social media explores my profile deep enough to find the link to this blog. I guess they're too distracted by all the freaking AI. Maybe that's a good thing? Still, with me you get the real deal. I need no computer generated false images of myself. That would not be me. Besides, it would probably cause a big mess if I actually post what I, myself, would aspire to be if I only could. It's not what most would expect. But, anyway.... It just is and I just am. Next? And now for my favorite time of the day... Okay, second favorite behind quitting time. Lunch! Da pizza pie for the pizza guy, eh? Just me, pizza, and a quiet room. I'd say it sounds like a date, but I wouldn't go that far. Though good food ranks right up there to me. Shall I compare thee to a pizza pie? Totally hot and looking good to me. Now, there's a Valentine if I ever saw one. When da moon hit your eye like a big a pizza pie that's a kinda painful for da guy. It a hurt a like a beach! But, yeah... Got to appreciate the small pleasures of life. (hours later) .... And welcome once again to Michael Myers time. Do you remember why I call it that? Because it's moving menacingly slow and it's damn impossible to kill, no matter how you try. Only 2pm? You gotta be shitting me! The horror, the horror! Okay, back to philosophy. I wonder if Mr Spock (when speaking to his betroved who betrayed) actually had a point about the difference between wanting and having. Could having be less fulfilling than wanting? It this a grass is greener sort of thing? You know, like the fox and the grapes? Maybe. When we wish, when we want, we really don't know what it's like to have. So we fill in the blanks with our fantasies and dreams. We can (if we're not careful) put imperfect people on pedestals, by idolizing them. So in those rare cases that such dreams actually do come true, reality must have its way. Otherwise you are holding them to an impossible standard. And that's not love. So, just stick to holding them. That is perfect enough. Some people really don't have to do anything at all to make my world better. Just exist. Just be there. Nothing more, but certainly nothing less. At least it seems this way from the sidelines. And let's just say I haven't been in the game for a long, long, time. Speaking so deeply from the void, I might be talking crazy. Who the hell knows? I spend so much time alone with my thoughts. I am really starting to believe that my own thoughts are better than all that nonsense on social media. Nobody else is listening anyway. Not really. Nobody except for Doctor Blog-ieo and maybe my dearest Universe, if there is mercy. It's a lonely life, ladies and gentlemen, sometimes painfully so. I often find myself wondering the worth of it all. And then I have to go through all that inner debating again. The answer is always yes, it's worth it. But I have to wear myself into exhaustion to come to that conclusion. And I just don't feel like going back through all that right now. It's simply too much, and I'm just not up to it. Maybe another day. But not today, Zurg! I can understand the this world does not want to comfort or reassure me. I just can't understand why it won't leave me the hell alone otherwise. It leaves me all alone but it won't leave me alone. That's the irony, really. One quark. One quirk. One Captain Kirk about me is I like making detailed plans and I absolutely hate chaos. I want to know what's about to go down and I want to know exactly when. I hate surprises. They derail my train of thought, causing one hell of a wreck. I want to know and I've got to know. I can handle most anything if I know it's coming. It's uncertainty that scares me. Well it looks like I'll be spending a large part of my long Valentines / President's Day weekend in this bed. Oh and not in a Valentines way... Nope. I apparently have the flarking stomach plague.... Not that I sought it out. It just hit me an hour ago. Some folks only apparent ambition in life seems to be emptying my fridge and delivering funky plague to my freaking door. Normally my introverted antisocial behavior keeps me away from people and their germs. Unfortunately some folks don't understand staying the flark away from me when they're sick. Damn it. My weekend is so flarked. At least I won't have to miss work. Still this is bullshit. You know? Recently the grocery lady asked me if I were feeding an army. I said no. It just feels this way. When, Universe, when? When is this insanity gonna stop? Sorry if I'm being a jerk, but damn I'm pissed off. I had plans!!!!! What a load of shit. I am sick of always getting the shitty end of the deal. If I could only fall asleep, I might recover quickly, but as usual I can't. Okay. ENOUGH of that... Clean cup move down. Apparently if you rent the exact make and model car as the one you own, swap their new tires for your old ones, you'll get (1) A new set of tires. and (2) in serious trouble with the cops. Who knew? You gotta admit, that's kind of creative, a cool story to tell your cellmates. Well, it's been a few hours and I'm feeling somewhat better. Fever is gone. Chills ore gone. I'm dehydrated as hell and damn hungry too. But a bit paranoid about eating or drinking. I've just completed the 24 hour super crash diet. I had exactly zero appetite all that time. Now I am seriously debating whether to try and eat. It wouldn't kill me to wait a few more hours. I certainly could sleep more. I have been in this particular spot for a grand total of 15 hours now, but I've been on and off with sleep the whole time. It sure looks like a beautiful day outside. Bummer. I guess it's quite appropriate I would spend national Roman Capital Punishment Day feeling sick to my stomach. The only difference is it's a virus and not people gushing about how in love with their best friends they are. Both make me want to hurl, though.