Yesterday, today and tomorrow...

There are those days where I feel like Mirth from Earth… Remember him? Mork and Mindy’s “kid”… Jonathon Winters I think it was… He came into the world old, and got younger day by day.. In this instance - I don’t necessarily mean this as a good thing… (And no, I don’t expouse “wow, you look GREAT… you look to be ten years younger than you really are.” A. Because I don’t. B. Because I never hear that anyways!)

Today.… Went and did the normal breakfast thingy… Wasn’t finished reading the paper - so - went to a favorite park - pulled in beneath a shade tree - the wondrous June weather coming at me from all four opened windows… Just as I was perusing the ‘ugly’ parta the news - I noticed I was in motion - not knowing whereinthehell I was going. (Remember, car has RNDL - no P).. Uh huh, it was rolling. I slammed on the brake, it slammed back because the engine wasn’t running - and the pedal’s viagra stealth strength kept me from pushing it to the floor. Oh shit.

Finally I got it stopped, but it was an eerie, eerie feeling… moving… not knowing whereinthehell I was going… funny sensations going thru the bod.

Kinda like life now. Where was I? Oh yeah, today, but with a hint of yesterday.. So I hit up garage sales allover town.. Drove past many many many good ole time places from yesteryear… “Beth lived there.” “The Hoys got married and that was their first house.” “There’s where Gracie stole the Hasta’s”… “Usedta play whiffle ball in that yard.”… “Smoke cigs and listened to Jimmy Hendrix in that basement.”.. “Hey, there’s that old house Kim usedta live in.”.. “Hey, looky there.. Wow, can you believe it? I actually got laid in that house!”.

Today. In motion, no known direction. What goes up must come down,
Spinnin' wheel got to go 'round, Talkin' 'bout your troubles it's a cryin' sin,
Ride a painted pony let the spinnin' wheel spin…

I’d write about tomorrow - but I don’t know tomorrow. Tomorrow continues to kinda sorta be today - and I be needin’ a jumpstart. Impetus. A spank like the doc gives a newborn. A shove off the diving board so as not to go back down the ladder. Jump off the moped you’re riding on I-435. Ride a painted pony. Spin wheel, spin.

I’ve found Newton was correct. For every action, there’s an equal and opposite reaction. But Victurd’s theory is, if y’ain’t taking any action, then you’re moving and ya don’t know where you’re going. In neutral, but moving. Going thru the motions I think they call it.

I wish I was Roger Clemons. Uh huh. Do. For one thing, he’s younger (a little bit.) He’s makin’ hella money. (4.4 million per month.).. And he’s been diagnosed with a “fatigued groin.” Yes, I wrote it correctly. Lucky sonofabitch. I reckon if I made 4.4 mil a month I too would probably have a fatigued groin. I might even go after me onea them JoCo tanned blonde Lexus drivin’ divorced moms.

There. That’s my spank. My impetus. My push, my jumpstart. I gotta find me a painted pony to ride. Victor did you just say that? MIND OUTTA GUTTER, I was talking the a SPINNING WHEEL…. (But, reckon I wouldn’t mind “Ride Captain ride, upon your mystery ship. Be amazed at the friends you have here on your trip. Ride captain ride upon your mystery ship, on your way to a world that others might have missed.”)

Uh huh. I think woman = impetus. Spank. Jumpstart. Push. (Ain’t the words what goes up must come down in spinning wheel?) Sorry!

Victor, you’ve had women. I know dammit, and when I did life was truly more fun… it’s just that either they got ridda me, or for some reason it felt kinda ‘early Goldielocks.” “Too - something.”

Yesterday. I hada blast. I have fond memories. All my troubles seemed so far away.

Today. Motionless. Direction unknown. No “P.” (Mind outta gutter again, that stands for 'Park'.)

Tomorrow. I hope to be diagnosed with fatigued groin. You don’t even have to pay me 4.4 mil a month.

Someone is waiting just for you
Spinnin' wheel, spinnin' true
Drop all your troubles by the riverside
Catch a painted pony on the spinning wheel ride
Ride a painted pony let the spinning wheel fly…

Somwhere, just somewhere ‘tween motionless and the day I pee my pants and forget my name - I pray for groin fatigue. Love, whoever you are, Victurd.