Leveling the Playing Field of Insanity

There are a number of days in my life that I felt I fit right right into the category of being insane – not criminally insane because the only harm I do to living things is squash bugs and flies – but the land of the insane is a great place to be at times.You don’t have to rationalize or subject the train of thought to scrutinizing it, dissecting it, or working it out.  It just makes you crazy!  My oldest son, Dan, (who lives with me and has for over a year), doesn’t understand how I can let certain things get under my skin, like idiots in my Dr.s office that can’t do their job, or big rig truck drivers that park the fucking trailer on the street and unhook the truck from it, leaving it to block a full lane for a week while they take a well-deserved rest from their job, or the neighbor’s dogs (one in particular that just barks to bark) across the street that never quits yammering as long as me or Scout are out in the front of the property, or the Tards that live behind me that always have ghetto-thump music going on and the bass manages to travel through the walls of my house or drive me insane when I’m out back working on a yard project, or any number of things that may not bother anyone else but they simply MAKE ME INSANE!

I love to go out and work in my yard most of the time.  I live just off the desert in a section that has mainly old farts living in it (like me) and the air is clear, the birds are chattering (nope, that doesn’t bother me), and I get to dig in the dirt, look at all the shrubs and trees I’ve planted, and work on getting ready to paint the house (about 10 days off according to my inner caulking and trim primer demon), and normally, it’s just plain quiet except for the issues listed above and an occasional car going down the 2-lane blacktop that runs in front of my house.  I like quiet.  I don’t understand why I should have to deal with someone else’s noise. And I don’t understand why I have to try and drive around a frigging trailer left out in the street that I live on.

Well…anyway…my forms of insanity are trips into fantasy land where I could transport the truck up on top of the mountain by where I hike, just long enough to make the driver go batshit trying to figure out how it got up there after reporting it stolen but not hearing a rig pull up, hook up, and drive it away — and then being able to watch him pee himself as he tries to figure out how to get it back to his place without a helicopter transport.  Of course I’d move it back before it went too far and put a big “Don’t park me on the street again” on the front window in white shoe polish so it could easily be washed off.  There are a lot of empty lots and open spaces out here in the desert where he could park it.

The dog?  I don’t want to hurt the dog, just want it to stop yapping so I would put an invisible sound cone around it’s head that would allow only him to hear his barking, perhaps he would give up then, but if not, I wouldn’t have to listen to that shit ruin my fun out in my yard.

The Tards behind me?  They never quit, cars roll in with ghetto thump pouring out of them, they have the house, two fifth wheels, a travel trailer (in shitty condition), a half a car, and a variety of stuff stacked around their property.  I would install a ghetto thump dissolver that could form a line right in front of their eyes of the bass as it turned into a trail of goo and slid off onto the ground, the floor, or whatever field it’s over.  I might even go so far as to have the goo become blobs that danced back and forth to the beat but emitted no sound and as long as the music ran, the goo would dance and jump.  It would for sure freak them out.  As soon as the music stopped, the goo would turn into smoke and disappear in the wind.

Those are a few of my insaniac thoughts, some are vicious though and not nearly as easy on the person I want to toss into my insanity pit. No broken limbs or cuts and bruises, just things that would make them stop and “WHOA…WTF is going on here?” which in turn would make them aware that they are affecting other people with their choices.

One of my goals in life is not to affect or hurt other people with my choices, although I realize that’s a tough one because even the smallest of our choices can sometimes be devastating to someone else.  Guess that’s why I’m single, live in the stix, and keep pretty much to myself. I like my insanity, it helps me stay that way.

On poker, I had a great week on the WSOP.com last week, and this week?  They’re showing me how easy it is for them to know what the next card off the deck will be.  Nope, don’t think I’m being cheated.  Sometimes, if I was being cheated, it would be easier to take. And my insanity pit has no room for a poker game.  It does make me crazy at times but I understand the game and the nature of the beast.  I love having people put all their chips in with the worst hand…even when they get lucky.

BTW…this is my insanity, so stay out of it, there’s no level playing field here because I make the rules!