Women Are Crazy, Men Are Stupid

I’ve come to the conclusion that I need a better outlook on life. This pandemic crap, not to mention all the political b.s. everywhere I look, and the protests in the street, and the racial tension, and the killings, and politicians flapping their gums about crap they know nothing about, and care even less about, and, and, and…. I don’t know about you, but I’ve about had enough.

What I need is a change. So, I picked up a copy of a book that is going to get me out of the funk that all the above mentioned stuff has put me in. As has been said, “I’m tired as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore.” This book is going to do the trick. I just know it is.

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Expectations

I have a question for anyone willing to examine their own thoughts on life and what life means to them, offers them, and eventually delivers to them: Why do you expect others to think, act, and live as you do?

One more question: What do you expect from others?

Okay, just one more.

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Two Old Guys and A Goat

This might not be appropriate for young minds.

I’ve heard it said that you cannot have truly experienced life without suffering a little pain along the way. I don’t remember who said it, where I heard it, or even if I did hear it. Maybe I read it. I could have just dreamed it up one night. That’s highly doubtful, though, since I seldom remember those thoughts that race through my mind during those short periods of time commonly referred to as sleep. Whatever, it’s stuck with me.

Okay, let’s just forget about the pain. No, let’s not forget about the pain. Pain doesn’t have to be physical, you know. I think that the definition of pain alluded to in the first sentence should be that feeling we can only think of as completely opposite of the feeling of joy. We all know what that feels like, don’t we? Hold on, Dave. Not that Joy. The joy I’m referring to is with a little ‘j’, not a capital one. You know, the joy of a snow-cone in the park in the middle of the summer, while the sounds of children playing fill the air. That’s joy. Just me, the snow-cone, laying in the shade of a big tree so I don’t have to move often as the sun drifts slowly across a clear blue sky, while listening to the delightful squeals of children without a care in the world. Now you get the picture. The pain I’m talking about is the opposite of that feeling.

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