do hornets like donuts?

what the frick, what the frack, what the knackity-knack it's a clicky clack world, clicky clack clicky clack and there's no skipping forward and there's no going back, there is just moving on on life's one way track so even though nobody beats the beatles (as if cuteness was not a crime) a friend asked me once upon a time, do hornets like donuts and i said what? and what's that gathering my head sniffing about like a hound? do hornets like donuts? that's what she said, whatever could have been going through her head, do hornets like donuts? well, let's hope they do at least more than me (koo koo ka chooo) do hornets like donuts, do hornets like donuts? do hornets like, donuts? (dough nuts horn nets horn nuts doh doh dee doh doh) so i heard once again do hornets like donuts? and i thought that is so Seuss, a thought in a noose, daring to hang around, but this is not Seuss with meter too loose, daring to mock a sound, so what is this then a poem of zen? about what it's not to be found yeah well, if hornets like donuts then wasps might resign to dine with an ant on a mound and somebody else asked does it astound? as if the animaniacs themselves were not profound and not just...

bullsugar! :)

where for art

beyond the secrets, beyond the illusions of magic or miracles or whatever the mind might come up with the explain the unknown instead of exploring it, beyond the fears that people empower to blind them from learning, from knowing, from understanding more, from being more so some express themselves through what we call art in order to find acceptance as new ideas appear less threatening when we call them art because people fear not knowing so creativity produces the illusion of knowing in the serious reality while art allows the mind to skate along the thin ice of wondering and imagining and almost accepting not knowing...

or something like that :)

what happened to this one?

it appears there was an entry here and all that is left is a link to this entry in another blog which is oddly interesting in a kind of what the hell is that? i mean what is that thing? kind of steve martin saturday night kind of mocking way if you know what i mean because it could be some deep dark secret was revealed and nobody noticed so it disappeared or it might even be some magical formula that could save humanity from it's obvious self-destruction (spells apply here) but we may never know now because whatever it was, it is gone as if it never was and all that is left is this summary of the reflection on the disappearance and that link mentioned earlier...

sugar?...

The Afterblog: the party of living: so much more

The Afterblog: the party of living: so much more is a dichotomy of connective blog tissue that accidentally happened, like a kind of blog mutation, as is this entry, for at this moment of writing i have no idea where it is going... the bottom line we can draw from this is that life is unpredictable and whether random or destiny, whether carefully planned or chaos, whether creative magic or an empty page, whether profound essence or meaningless drivel, whether sunshine and lollipops or stormy weather, whether a concise expression with tangible value or a seemingly endless series of comparative metaphors, similes, and what not that leads down a long and winding road to nowhere, man, whether a wonder beyond any imagination or a slippery slope of infinite distraction that appears to be spinning out of control, whether something or nothing, whether art or bullsugar, it is a party with you or without you, and as long as i remember that and remember that i enjoy every moment alone or with others, i can and do and i suggest you should do the same... that is all (for now :)

not a very scientific poll

right, so lately, besides wondering if my ideas and humor and honesty should be shared openly in public while i am looking for a job in this area, i've been debating ethics and integrity in my head... and what do you do on your nights off?... but i suppose i really should keep the focus on the job search (and thank you for all the support) until i find one... feel free to discuss among yourself...

and then maybe i should mention that i posted this on facebook (hence the title of this entry, yo)... heck, this isn't even proper bullsugar...

thinking choices

so many humans are addicted to the rush of fear, anger, paranoia, depression, or some other thinking error that leads to hormonal surges, internal drugs, chemical addictions without even consuming a drug... some thinking errors become "illnesses" and others become accepted delusions (cuz if enough people believe a delusion, it become common-knowledge and truth for the moment {like the flat earth once was} and oh god, yeah, so many, though fewer, are addicted to external drugs, the legal ones and the illegal ones... sadly, the majority addicted to the thinking error emo-drugs and delusions do so much more damage to life than anyone else, not to mention condemning the minority who doesn't buy into the thinking errors...

and i sometimes wonder if i do any good with sarcastic mocking, laughing, and words like those above?... whatever the answer, it is better than sighing or the thinking errors... i choose the drug laughter brings... and occasionally, chocolate :)

relativeness

as opposed to relativity, i suppose, though that may be moot (or relative to perspective) as the pondering producing this postulation forms the words in the form of a question (thank you alex) of profoundity (or profundity or profoundness, for that matter) as if to query if everything was profound, would anything be profound and if everything was creative brilliance, would anything be creative brilliance and so ultimately in considering the relative meaningfulness of the individual blog entries right here and now i come to the question, if everything was equally meaningful, would anything have meaning?...

bullsugar? :)

hope i am

not just bullsugar and more importantly (if anything is), hope i am listening... the first thought as i pop back in here tonight is anybody listening and then before the ink dries on the question mark that isnt there, the more important thought is the title of this blog as i hope am, as i am respectfully, as honest as possible in my writings and sharing without giving out too much of other people's privacy (i hope and if you know me offline and i give out too much of your privacy or if anyone reading feels like i share too much personal stuff, please tell me cuz it is my intention to share me and the life i live and offend or intrude on no one more than they allow but on the other hand i don't want to encourage the foolish paranoia that most people carry around like a shroud nor do i want to feed the monster and wall that over-worrying about what other people think becomes and then hope i do listen and take it seriously when it is serious cuz that's important too and i wish i could read minds sometimes, especially on this subject or the other subject in this rambling if you follow along or any of it for that matter and there is a deep part of me that wishes somebody does and cuz the bottom line is i sometimes tell myself important stuff in my babblings and i hope i am listening cuz if i don't listen to the important stuff i could crash and burn and i have had enough crashing and burning in this life and it sure would be sweet to have someone looking out for me (hint hint :)

what?... another paragraph here?... with ellipsis pauses no less?... and question marks?... why this is possibly quite odd for this place and so i wonder if this belongs here but then, it must cuz it is here after all and what i mean (or was getting around to) is (or was, daring redundancy for emphasis) that i know i give too much for my own good, but somebody else must love the giving as much as i do and together we could help each other give just enough to feel the bliss and not give too much cuz giving is kinda like flying close to the sun with flammable wings, or something like that cuz somebody must understand what i mean from personal experience, and i just wish you would find this writing already and speak up and until you do, i am out on the edge on my own loving almost every precarious moment of...

bullsugar! :)

where wandered i part seven hundred and eighty nine

with many hundreds of missing pieces uploaded not along the way and this, merely the bullsugar version of the conceptual browsing (or haunting, even) the momentary and then some nonesuch sundries et cetera with as much vim and vigor as as is mustard (or ketchuped) up at any given hour of the wee time, we unanimously present with all this fawning fanfare and irreverence the latest rendition of the choir of cybernetic angels singing ccourtesy with an independently alternative beat, this one...

fugacious love without trust
fugacious photos
vernon god little
radio 3 cbc
digital detox
fugacious lost portfolios
fugacious archives
the last fugacious (for now)

ephemeral

that word, i do not think it means what you think it means (ah, the wonder of quotations begged borrowed or stealed (modified, even) and is has been so very long to share to care to be well aware to love and be lost amidst the magic of romance and trust and the illusion of all that and unconditional love and how wildly fugacious of us (or someone) to have thought the concept in another future past space and time and head space were to for art thou you too and with muchness musicology and candor as if the moment had no end until it did, for the moment at least...

more to life

are you still dreaming or are you cheesecake dancing through your pickled life amidst fractal thinking bent mental contructs bleeding delusional logic feeding irrational beliefs and fruitcake holidays, but not to be denied there is a cure for that and they call it awakening to your own conscious awareness or death, depending on perspective and personally life is more appealing, so here is to hoping you get the point and more, you live it...

cuz there's more to life than bullsugar!

could you be any less cohesive?

what in the world (and happy birthday to an old friend i miss even as an ethereal bit of fluffy smoke in the older memory cells of the brain) could be going through the synapses with such a tittle we may never know, but certainly there is something profoundly curious in the way words flow through this place and if i didn't know better i would think they were painted by numbers laid out by some higher power as just to amuse those who are agnostically inclined and still, be that as it may or may not be, the folly meets the purpose somewhere between the lines for anyone with any real caring to be aware and ask, even, cuz in the end you are made if you gave all your love...

and bullsugar!

praise the chips and pass the ketchup

somewhere back in time or maybe just a few moments ago in an entry that will not be found easily as it was predated just cuz i felt like it tonight there was an intention to do something (in the way she moves?) with that link but for the life of me i do not recall what or where or if i did, but then, for all the profound meaning some may find in the words or placement of pauses or entries, for that matter, they may as well be french fries for most of you cuz everything is better with bullsugar...

ketchup!

like magic

having no formal training in the html css whatever language in which this template was created i took a look at the code and tweak it here and there by intuitive genius cuz no other explanation can be found and low and behold i modified the appearance enough for me to not chuck the template completely but there still is stupidness in the changes made by whomever is credited below because it is still not the template i chose that was nearly perfect for this blog so whatever again and the way willed cuz there was...

bullsugar! :)

the werdness of the net

the internet, that is, cuz there is a difference here in the bullsugar backfround template and i don't like it and don't know who changed it cuz the extra space at the top has no purpose and drops the words lower than they were and takes they whole effect i chose this template for, the colors, away by putting them above the words so it is time to change templates and that sucks cuz i liked the one i chose and whomever changed it did a wrong and they take claim for it down below it seems...

bullshit!

maybe i'm amazed at the way i giggle all the time

maybe i'm amazed at the way you giggle at me cuz there is such a sweet adorableness in the proper (and even more in the improper, sometimes) giggle that any heart not melted instantly by the sound and body language and bounciness of the experience (giving or receiving, even) was probably stoned in another life (and a narc-type-a paranoid control freak god-fearing loser or some such offensive collection of meaningless word in this one) and if you frowned or got even the slightest bit uncomfortable or seriously wondering (or slightly, even) they you too need a good goosingly gotcha giggle yourself so step right up and see the amazing gigglemonster, half human and half giggle, performing feats of absolute adorableness right before your eyes and if you don't, well, sad for you i am, yoda too, even, and with this i gigglefart all the way home...

prophetic

in a fleeting moment of semi-consciousness as i felt the start of my fifty-fifth year in this life, i thought, or perhaps just felt, that i might look back on this year amazed that i did not conceive more consiously or often that it could be the mid-point, the half way mark of this life that would last more than a century of this earthly time and with wonder or irony, seriously consider that i actually would i be here remembering that ephemeral thought from half a lifetime ago… i had not yet found my literary voice amidst the thousands of streams of consciousness that passed through my head and fingers into the written word each day, a circumstance that often lead my readers to label me with the then popular psychological diagnosis ADD (attention deficit disorder), to which i’d suggest with my usual serious irrverence that it could be an easy way to explain away a lack of comprehension of a multi-track stream of consciousness that has since been more clearly understood as synaptic multi-threading or intellectual agapism… yet the hope that something meaningful and worthwhile beyond my mind would emerge from all the time i spent putting words together kept the words flowing into whatever recording medium available along the way through this journey through this life, from crayon and drawing paper to pen and notebooks to keyboard and hard drive to electronic synaptic transfer to telepathic expression, unconcerned with the immediate reception, unwilling to modify the flow or style of the literary expression for the unconditional trust, the blind faith in the thought process compelled me to continue following the consceptualizations wherever they lead and if that was to be no more than selfish ego, then so be it… who then would have foreseen this moment would arrive that i would recall that evanescent emotional flash as prophetic when then, i simply mused casually over the irony of the possibility and the folly of my own delusion of human self-importance…

bullsugar! :)

kiss kiss (or mild abrasions)

yeah, just like the europeans... or more intimate if you'd like, if you were here, and most important, if you were attractive to libido which is extremely unlikely, so almost nevermind, stick to the eurokisses... flippant flirtation or blunt rejection, your choice because you are the reader and the reader is always right... except in person, then the writer is always right... if you don't understand, nevermind... not even almost... it's all about the friction, after all... narf...

and bullsugar!

weird feeling

way tired, way happy, way excited (or is that agitated) way sad way so much clarity, infinite altruism taken so for granted it continues through carefree apathy... giving unconditionally into a vacuum returns nothing but the pleasure of giving, yet how long can a negative energy field survive in a vacuum?... or a positive one, even... curiously refreshing...

cheap skates

and the time, i say, the time goes by so slowly and, you know, the time can mean so much, i say, so much... listen to me boy, i'm talkin' time here (dull boy, wouldn't know a timepiece from a piece of cake)...

who's paying attention?...

cheapskates :P