This weekend I was invited to two different and completely contrasting events, the first was a hard rock concert--Linkin Park, and the other was to a hunting dog field trial competition. I attended these two events within 12 hours of each other and I could not help but notice the extreme dissimilarities of personalities that attended one event versus the other event. I then introduced my family to yet another segment of society when we chose to have dinner at a family diner--Sills Cafe. To say the least, all of these parties were at the far extremes of society, albeit at opposite poles. The following are a few examples of the flora variety at these gatherings:
The Linkin Park crowd:
First, I must admit, I love going to concerts because I love to see the plethora of freaks who come out of the woodwork. The aberrations of society spontaneously throng together like an orgy of rats on a piece of discarded velveta cheese.
There was the guy with a 6 inch mohawk and scottish kilt, various stages of past-their-prime girls in tube tops with more rolls & curves (back flaps) hanging out the back of their tops than they have to show off out their fronts! Then there was the myriad of awkward-anti-social-acne covered (or pocked) teenagers who were proudly sporting their latest hard rock shirt acquisition, or the massive 'Bad A--' wearing a stocking cap which read "Parental Advisory is Advised" who was just looking for a fight.
Next we have the guy who shows up wearing only a tee shirt in the middle of winter with bed-head hair already looking wasted, but yet gets up six or seven times throughout the show, each time returning with yet another gigantic plastic cup of beer (yeah, the streets will be safe with this guy driving home). There were the head bangers or stoners, or wannabes, or my favorite-- the huge lady with supreme inner confidence wearing an all white, body hugging tank top who jostled her enormous hips while doing the leg slap with her left hand and with her right hand raised over her bobbing head, she does the hand flap to the beat. But even after all the variety of these we were left to find (and who happened to be sitting next to me) the oddity in the rough, the most out of place personality of them all-- the 'stoic oriental couple' sitting quietly with their hands folded in their laps showing no expression or emotion throughout the entire concert. All in all, I have to say, I far more enjoyed observing the people at the concert than the concert itself!
Hunting Dog Field Trials crowd:
Unlike at the Linkin Park concert, nobody there wore black. In fact, I gathered that there was an unwritten dress code that to participate in this event, you must wear some form of 'mud-marsh' or 'tree-swamp' print camouflage with or without the optional glowing orange hat. I even saw a man wearing camouflaged chaps--I thought to myself, really?! Has dressing to blend into a muddy quagmire while riding your motorcycle or galloping on a horse helped in any way to save your life or kill that elusive mallard?
Nobody present was clean shaven and the vast majority wore straggly unkempt beards or mustaches. All sported all-weather boots, some lined with fleece, others made of rubber anticipating the potential need to track through mud or shallow waters. Those who didn't wear orange hats, wore ball caps or those hats which had ear flaps that drop down to keep your ears warm. Of those who wore glasses, invariably they had transition lens that were always at a not clear, but not sunglass translucency. There was one though who I stayed clear of, who kept trying to talk to my nine year old son about getting a gun to shoot birds. He was the type of guy who puts your inner alarms at high alert. While a different breed of people, for the most part they were all very friendly and happy to be free in the outdoors with their dogs passing their time killing defenseless ducks at close range with a shotgun for sport.
The Sills Regulars:
Later this same day, I took my family out for breakfast-dinner at Sills Cafe in Layton and once again found myself amongst yet another totally different breed of people. First off, what is it about diners that says, "No teeth required"?! Next to us we had a table of veterans who still proudly wore a ball cap which posts their unit number and the navel ship they sailed decades ago. Unfortunately there wasn't a clean mouth among them. At another table, we saw a man whose white spindly beard was so long that he literally tucked it into his pants! We also saw an enormous bowl of a man sporting blue polyester pants with his belt hiked up just below the nipple line (A unique customer who actually could eat an entire 3 stack of Sills gargantuan pancakes--each a foot and a half wide and combined thickness of over two inches!).
Up at the counter there was the loner/drifter 'truck-driver' type eating probably his millionth steak and eggs dinner. We were served of course by the diet coke addicted waitress who we couldn't decide, "Is she pregnant or does she just not carry her weight well"?--either way we probably should give her a good tip! Then there was the cashier, who was beyond obviously pregnant because she looked as if she could blow at any moment. Finally, we had the cooks in the back covered with tattoos, who appeared to not care less about grooming standards or verbal constraints, as they openly spewed the details of their latest conquests for all to hear.
I am left to wonder, is this vast array of personalities an indication of God's creativity or of His sense of humor?
February 27, 2011
February 20, 2011
Trapped Within
One of the greatest failures in life is missing the here and now. It is far too easy to get caught up and distracted by one of a million other things that daily draws away our attention rather than living in the actual moment we are in. How many lost potential memories and opportunities for relationships do we daily miss because we are preoccupied and consumed with ourselves? As I enter this new year I have determined to slow down and develop the moments I'm in. This is especially so with my kids. I want them to know and feel that we are on equal grounds. That their opinions and feelings are just as valid as mine. I want them to feel that their dad really loves them and enjoys their company. I want to get to know them for who they are and not just based on a few extrinsic facts about their lives.
Sandra and I have five children. Each one is creative and intelligent. Each one is talented and beautiful and each of them have given us a run for our money! Each of our children have gone through a phase in their early years where they would completely lose their minds with internal frustrations resulting in terrible temper tantrums--and I mean terrible. These were no ordinary hissy-fits, but down right psychotic breaks! A complete but temporary disconnect with reason and control. Ashton is now in this phase. Everything is his, everything is his way, everything is at his timing and will. The smallest thing will spin his world out of control and all 'hell' will break loose. A few nights ago was one of those times.
Some minor thing happened (I don't even remember what) that upset Ashton and he went ballistic. He was beyond reason. He was spitting and screaming and spouting mean things all while flashing us all with his infamous evil glare. In an attempt to discipline I sent him to the corner for not behaving. There I told him that when he could choose to be nice he could sit at the table with the rest of the family and have a sweet roll. He wanted nothing of it, he screamed and wailed. He kicked and spit again. We all ignored him, waiting for him to calm down; letting the storm pass. But it didn't. He grew steadily worse. It was at this time that I stopped enjoying the pleasures of my selfish cinnamon roll and started becoming aware of the here and now of my son.
I noticed that Ashton had began screaming in the third person and pleading as if he was being physically abused while we all stood there in indifference to his suffering. Suddenly I didn't see him as a screaming child, but as the sweet tender boy that is trapped in a physical body that was literally 'torturing' his spirit. I was reminded of the time when Jesus came across a man who pleaded for him to spare his son from possession of evil spirits and when Jesus rebuked the spirits the lad fell limp to the ground and at long last found peace. What if, I thought, he was being possessed by an evil spirit? What if I was sitting there eating dessert while my son was being tortured by demons? The spirit came over me strongly as I watched Ashton's body flail about, 'possessed' as it were, in the corner. While I don't think he was necessarily possessed, I did fell like his spirit had gotten lost inside his physical body. I immediately went over to him and picked him up, cradling him in my arms and carried him up to his bedroom. While he resisted at first, the influence of the spirit that was with me had calmed him to mere tears by the time we got to his bedroom. There we talked for a few minutes and I asked him if I could give him a father's priesthood blessing. He said, "ok". I sat him on a small child's chair that was in his room and while sitting on the edge of his bed thus coming down to his level, I placed my hands on his head and under the authority of the priesthood and as his father and patriarch I rebuked his tangible body from it's dominating control over his sweet spirit and asked for the powers of heaven to keep and protect him and I did this in the name of Jesus Christ. I assured him that he is loved by both earthly and heavenly parents who want him to be happy. I asked for a blessing of peace to reside upon him and that he will be able to calmly work through his frustrations as he continues to grow and develop. When I was done it was an entirely different Ashton than the one I brought upstairs. He was calm and at peace with himself and the world. He looked up at me with his large puppy dog eyes and said he was ready to go back downstairs. He joined the others at the table and enjoyed a giant cinnamon roll.
I am not saying he was possessed by the devil or that my blessing cured him from all future temper tantrums or from being a child. What I am saying is that, I stopped serving myself and noticed that my son needed me here and now and when I gave him my full attention we had a sweet experience. Together we felt the spirit, calmed a storm and formed a lasting memory. Cinnamon rolls come and go, but a childhood only happens once, I'm glad a didn't miss this night of his.
Sandra and I have five children. Each one is creative and intelligent. Each one is talented and beautiful and each of them have given us a run for our money! Each of our children have gone through a phase in their early years where they would completely lose their minds with internal frustrations resulting in terrible temper tantrums--and I mean terrible. These were no ordinary hissy-fits, but down right psychotic breaks! A complete but temporary disconnect with reason and control. Ashton is now in this phase. Everything is his, everything is his way, everything is at his timing and will. The smallest thing will spin his world out of control and all 'hell' will break loose. A few nights ago was one of those times.
Some minor thing happened (I don't even remember what) that upset Ashton and he went ballistic. He was beyond reason. He was spitting and screaming and spouting mean things all while flashing us all with his infamous evil glare. In an attempt to discipline I sent him to the corner for not behaving. There I told him that when he could choose to be nice he could sit at the table with the rest of the family and have a sweet roll. He wanted nothing of it, he screamed and wailed. He kicked and spit again. We all ignored him, waiting for him to calm down; letting the storm pass. But it didn't. He grew steadily worse. It was at this time that I stopped enjoying the pleasures of my selfish cinnamon roll and started becoming aware of the here and now of my son.
I noticed that Ashton had began screaming in the third person and pleading as if he was being physically abused while we all stood there in indifference to his suffering. Suddenly I didn't see him as a screaming child, but as the sweet tender boy that is trapped in a physical body that was literally 'torturing' his spirit. I was reminded of the time when Jesus came across a man who pleaded for him to spare his son from possession of evil spirits and when Jesus rebuked the spirits the lad fell limp to the ground and at long last found peace. What if, I thought, he was being possessed by an evil spirit? What if I was sitting there eating dessert while my son was being tortured by demons? The spirit came over me strongly as I watched Ashton's body flail about, 'possessed' as it were, in the corner. While I don't think he was necessarily possessed, I did fell like his spirit had gotten lost inside his physical body. I immediately went over to him and picked him up, cradling him in my arms and carried him up to his bedroom. While he resisted at first, the influence of the spirit that was with me had calmed him to mere tears by the time we got to his bedroom. There we talked for a few minutes and I asked him if I could give him a father's priesthood blessing. He said, "ok". I sat him on a small child's chair that was in his room and while sitting on the edge of his bed thus coming down to his level, I placed my hands on his head and under the authority of the priesthood and as his father and patriarch I rebuked his tangible body from it's dominating control over his sweet spirit and asked for the powers of heaven to keep and protect him and I did this in the name of Jesus Christ. I assured him that he is loved by both earthly and heavenly parents who want him to be happy. I asked for a blessing of peace to reside upon him and that he will be able to calmly work through his frustrations as he continues to grow and develop. When I was done it was an entirely different Ashton than the one I brought upstairs. He was calm and at peace with himself and the world. He looked up at me with his large puppy dog eyes and said he was ready to go back downstairs. He joined the others at the table and enjoyed a giant cinnamon roll.
I am not saying he was possessed by the devil or that my blessing cured him from all future temper tantrums or from being a child. What I am saying is that, I stopped serving myself and noticed that my son needed me here and now and when I gave him my full attention we had a sweet experience. Together we felt the spirit, calmed a storm and formed a lasting memory. Cinnamon rolls come and go, but a childhood only happens once, I'm glad a didn't miss this night of his.
February 5, 2011
Political Vomit
Sandra and I were discussing the messed up world we live in. This planet is turning to crap in a hand basket! Everything is in turmoil. Virtually every government is corrupt (our being one of them), with leaders who are out of touch with it's citizens and who act out of their own short sighted self-interests, regardless of their long term consequences. Gone are the blissful days of our childhood where we thought all adults were right and our leaders were fighting for democracy and freedom. Gone is the cherished facade that our trusted officials had our best interests at heart. Now all I want to do is vomit when I see and hear the despicable self-serving actions and hidden partisan agendas that are destroying this nation.
President Hinckley's famous prophetic address, "To the Boys and to the Men" said, there is a 'Portent of stormy weather' coming and we need to get our homes in order. All of our homes are under the roof of an American home. A home whose foundation is cracking, the walls are failing apart and the roof is collapsing. Instead of repairing our American home these last many years, our leaders have gone out of their way to cause more damage. Each year they introduce new failed policies, unwarranted subsidies and handouts, and of course the latest in undeserving bailouts are making our American home more and more unrepairable.
The problems are obvious and they ARE repairable. The real problem is that no one wants to fix them. Why not? Because that would take lots of hard work, effort, and of course--sacrifice. This also is political suicide. No one wants to vote in somebody that will cut entitlements and eliminate bloated and unsustainable benefits. Today's culture of instant gratification demands the nicest accommodations with no work to show for it. They want someone else to sacrifice, someone else to magically correct decades of mismanagement--somebody as long as that somebody is not themselves. I am truly sickened by the utter lack of unity, commitment and resolve to fix anything. America IS fixable. America IS still great, but are leaders are NOT.
Countless times, our leaders have had the opportunity to correct our course and time and time again, they have chosen poorly, selfishly, and immorally. They have driven our country off a cliff seeking their own political aspirations regardless of the future ramifications. Each of the President's of my life (especially the last four) have buried this great nation in corruption, polluted or buried the name and purpose of one nation under God, they have encouraged spending and punished thriftiness, they have rewarded thieves and ruined the middle class, they blame the ills of society on corporate greed, while spending money that isn't theirs for things America doesn't need or want, they greedily seek for their own personal political power which once they achieve it they immediately abuse it. In a sentence they have lost the trust of the American people.
While on the books I am officially a Republican, I am so only because I believe in smaller government and taxes. But, that really is a joke as seen by (our worst president ever) George W. Bush who expanded government more than almost any other president in history and while he gave us temporary lowered taxes he also spent more than almost any president ever (only our current president may ultimately top him--if allowed). I am so sick of politics. So tired of the back and forth banter across the aisle. The saddest thing is no matter who is in power or control--NOTHING of worth ever gets done! The point is I often feel like declaring as Joseph Smith did, "which of all the political parties are correct'? The answer I am sure are 'None of them', they all draw nigh unto freedom with their lips, but their hearts are far from me'!!!
This is not a question of us verses them, this is not a question of being a Democrat or Republican. This is a question of morals, of doing the right and fair thing. This is a question of taking responsibility of our country and then being honest with the American people. It doesn't matter what government party is in place if they are dishonest, corrupt and immoral they will fail America. Any government system that is run by honest men and women whose allegiance is freedom, equality of opportunity, and integrity is a nation that will be blessed and prospered by God. That would be a nation whose members will unite behind it, that would be a nation built on the stability of trust. That trust IS the solid foundation that a stable economy is built upon. That trust is no longer found in America.
So how do we fix America? We return to God. We return to morality. We return to integrity. We fix America by electing leaders who are moral and honest. Leaders who are willing to make sacrifices. Leaders who we can trust. Leaders who can make us believe again. Until then we will continue to drift aimlessly, falsely hoping for some great political savior only to be continually disappointed and disenfranchised as they fail over and over to fix the outer vessel while ignoring the decaying inner vessel of our country. Such will continue to be the case as this Nation is guided further into the 'portent of stormy weather' ahead of us by our dearly elected 'Blind Guides'.
President Hinckley's famous prophetic address, "To the Boys and to the Men" said, there is a 'Portent of stormy weather' coming and we need to get our homes in order. All of our homes are under the roof of an American home. A home whose foundation is cracking, the walls are failing apart and the roof is collapsing. Instead of repairing our American home these last many years, our leaders have gone out of their way to cause more damage. Each year they introduce new failed policies, unwarranted subsidies and handouts, and of course the latest in undeserving bailouts are making our American home more and more unrepairable.
The problems are obvious and they ARE repairable. The real problem is that no one wants to fix them. Why not? Because that would take lots of hard work, effort, and of course--sacrifice. This also is political suicide. No one wants to vote in somebody that will cut entitlements and eliminate bloated and unsustainable benefits. Today's culture of instant gratification demands the nicest accommodations with no work to show for it. They want someone else to sacrifice, someone else to magically correct decades of mismanagement--somebody as long as that somebody is not themselves. I am truly sickened by the utter lack of unity, commitment and resolve to fix anything. America IS fixable. America IS still great, but are leaders are NOT.
Countless times, our leaders have had the opportunity to correct our course and time and time again, they have chosen poorly, selfishly, and immorally. They have driven our country off a cliff seeking their own political aspirations regardless of the future ramifications. Each of the President's of my life (especially the last four) have buried this great nation in corruption, polluted or buried the name and purpose of one nation under God, they have encouraged spending and punished thriftiness, they have rewarded thieves and ruined the middle class, they blame the ills of society on corporate greed, while spending money that isn't theirs for things America doesn't need or want, they greedily seek for their own personal political power which once they achieve it they immediately abuse it. In a sentence they have lost the trust of the American people.
While on the books I am officially a Republican, I am so only because I believe in smaller government and taxes. But, that really is a joke as seen by (our worst president ever) George W. Bush who expanded government more than almost any other president in history and while he gave us temporary lowered taxes he also spent more than almost any president ever (only our current president may ultimately top him--if allowed). I am so sick of politics. So tired of the back and forth banter across the aisle. The saddest thing is no matter who is in power or control--NOTHING of worth ever gets done! The point is I often feel like declaring as Joseph Smith did, "which of all the political parties are correct'? The answer I am sure are 'None of them', they all draw nigh unto freedom with their lips, but their hearts are far from me'!!!
This is not a question of us verses them, this is not a question of being a Democrat or Republican. This is a question of morals, of doing the right and fair thing. This is a question of taking responsibility of our country and then being honest with the American people. It doesn't matter what government party is in place if they are dishonest, corrupt and immoral they will fail America. Any government system that is run by honest men and women whose allegiance is freedom, equality of opportunity, and integrity is a nation that will be blessed and prospered by God. That would be a nation whose members will unite behind it, that would be a nation built on the stability of trust. That trust IS the solid foundation that a stable economy is built upon. That trust is no longer found in America.
So how do we fix America? We return to God. We return to morality. We return to integrity. We fix America by electing leaders who are moral and honest. Leaders who are willing to make sacrifices. Leaders who we can trust. Leaders who can make us believe again. Until then we will continue to drift aimlessly, falsely hoping for some great political savior only to be continually disappointed and disenfranchised as they fail over and over to fix the outer vessel while ignoring the decaying inner vessel of our country. Such will continue to be the case as this Nation is guided further into the 'portent of stormy weather' ahead of us by our dearly elected 'Blind Guides'.
January 29, 2011
Fangtard
I have already changed my new blog's title three times and it will probably change again. To come up with ideas I went to a website called slangsite.com which lists a dictionary of sorts of strange and slang terms. Trying to find words that start with the letter 'F' (besides the obviously offensive ones) I came across of several hilarious new and useful words like:
F.I.N.E.: F-ed up, insecure, neurotic, and emotional. Use it when your feeling that way.
fab-flippin-tastic: Something that is incredibly good, so saying it's fantastic isn't enough, you have to combine three words to express your joy! (where I got my current blog name)
fabulicious: Fabulous-delicious. Great, fantastic, wonderful, yummy.
fader: (n) A fader is someone who does not seem to exist--though the fader is still there, no one in the world wants to recognize that fact. Faders are the forgotten souls, the forgotten dreams that slipped away. Faders are everywhere.
fangtard: (My personal favorite new word) A specific type of loser in the gothic poseur category, the fangtard is a cultural stereotype that began to invade the gothic night clubs in the later 90s. Some typical traits include fake fangs, Victorian attire, black trench coats, poet or pirate shirts, dyed black hair, white makeup, top hats, Anne Rice novels, and _Vampire: the Masquerade_ game books. Some actually try to convince others that they are vampires, when in fact they are merely losers who live with their parents.
fantabulanistical: Used to describe something that's fantastic, wonderful, amazing, bringing about many happy warm fuzzy feelings.
fantra: So embarrassed for someone else that your butt cheeks involuntarily clench in sympathy.
farble: To work aimlessly, amiably, without focus.
farge: The dried stuff that you find on the ketchup bottle cap.
farnarkle: The stuff that appears next to your fingernails if you don't push the cuticles back.
fashimite: Someone who is a slave to fashion.
fattycapped: A person who has reduced mobility due to the presence of extra weight--Terminally obese.
festouche: The hairs growing on the upper lip of some women, especially rednecks, often evolving into full festouches if not waxed.
fillerneumic peckerloomer: Someone who annoys you inordinately.
Fincher Syndrome: When someone looks good in the dim light of a nightclub or a concert, but makes you want to puke when seen in the light of day. Named for filmmaker David Fincher, who often uses underexposure.
Flabam: The taking down of someone's pants with a quick swipe of the hand in an s like motion.
flabbergammered: To be so astonished that you stammer.
flodge: The frayed or torn part on the bottom of trouser legs of the young, caused by the fabric dragging along the ground.
floochie: A floochie is the act of placing one's mouth on someone else's stomach, arm, etc. and blowing out, for the purpose of making a phthhhh sound.
flosstitute: Professional Dental Hygienist.
flubnub: The act of bumping into an obese person for the sick pleasure of watching her jiggle.
flurple: The little flap of skin in between each finger.
fnarkenessing: An extreme case of frustration, restlessness, boredom, and depression--due to the inability to rectify the situation without requiring the individual to expend an hugenormous amount of effort.
fontrum: The embarrassment one feels on behalf of people who do not know they should be
embarrassed for themselves.
We all know the fontrum we feel for the plethora of fillerneumic peckerloomers who strut their stuff like they were part of some kind of cool gansta posse. Wearing their oversized jeans half way down their thighs exposing their latest boxers prints and butt cheeks all while tripping all over the place due to the excessive flodge hanging three inches below their heals. This ridiculous (and soon to be extinct) trend is now being replaced by the modern Utah Mom fashimites who must have the latest trendy designer knock-off jeans, you know the ones with the hugely oversized stitched designs on their back pockets and low cut riding waist line. We have all been there, flabbergammered as they expose 6 inches of silky garments up their back every time they bend over for any reason! Seriously, just wear clothes that fit your body and religious choices (or at least just don't ever bend over--I can't take the fantra)!
However fantabulanistical it may be to poke fun at the seemingly emotionally stable segment of society whose only deficit is a small lack of fashion sense, it is completely inappropriate to make fun of the socially awkward and often outcasts like the faders and fangtards. We must realize that being socially retarded is not necessarily a conscious choice, but a resulting consequence of complex social & genetic environments. None of which, however, could ever really justify oneself in thinking they have become a vampire, which delusions begs serious mental health considerations (although they probably all suffer from Fincher's syndrome). Speaking of mental health, those other social freaks known as flubnubbers, whose fabulicious delight is to bump into fat people to see them 'jiggle' is just plain wrong! After all it may not be their fault their fattycapped--it could be glandular!
All though there are a lot of weirdos in this world, we all have our hang ups and fnarkenessing, but cheer-up at least you don't have a festouche--now that would be embarrassing! Unless you do? In that case stop farbling around and go out and pamper that furry little body of yours. Get yourself a good waxing and well deserved pedicure. Make sure they clean your flurples and farnarkles. After they are done shaving your knuckles make your way to your favorite flosstitute (I can recommend a few) to get that farge off your beautiful smile. I promise you you'll feel like a hundred bucks (if not fifty).
Just realize that sometimes in life, not only are we are own best friend and fan, we may very well be our only friend and fan. So go out there and be your best self!
F.I.N.E.: F-ed up, insecure, neurotic, and emotional. Use it when your feeling that way.
fab-flippin-tastic: Something that is incredibly good, so saying it's fantastic isn't enough, you have to combine three words to express your joy! (where I got my current blog name)
fabulicious: Fabulous-delicious. Great, fantastic, wonderful, yummy.
fader: (n) A fader is someone who does not seem to exist--though the fader is still there, no one in the world wants to recognize that fact. Faders are the forgotten souls, the forgotten dreams that slipped away. Faders are everywhere.
fangtard: (My personal favorite new word) A specific type of loser in the gothic poseur category, the fangtard is a cultural stereotype that began to invade the gothic night clubs in the later 90s. Some typical traits include fake fangs, Victorian attire, black trench coats, poet or pirate shirts, dyed black hair, white makeup, top hats, Anne Rice novels, and _Vampire: the Masquerade_ game books. Some actually try to convince others that they are vampires, when in fact they are merely losers who live with their parents.
fantabulanistical: Used to describe something that's fantastic, wonderful, amazing, bringing about many happy warm fuzzy feelings.
fantra: So embarrassed for someone else that your butt cheeks involuntarily clench in sympathy.
farble: To work aimlessly, amiably, without focus.
farge: The dried stuff that you find on the ketchup bottle cap.
farnarkle: The stuff that appears next to your fingernails if you don't push the cuticles back.
fashimite: Someone who is a slave to fashion.
fattycapped: A person who has reduced mobility due to the presence of extra weight--Terminally obese.
festouche: The hairs growing on the upper lip of some women, especially rednecks, often evolving into full festouches if not waxed.
fillerneumic peckerloomer: Someone who annoys you inordinately.
Fincher Syndrome: When someone looks good in the dim light of a nightclub or a concert, but makes you want to puke when seen in the light of day. Named for filmmaker David Fincher, who often uses underexposure.
Flabam: The taking down of someone's pants with a quick swipe of the hand in an s like motion.
flabbergammered: To be so astonished that you stammer.
flodge: The frayed or torn part on the bottom of trouser legs of the young, caused by the fabric dragging along the ground.
floochie: A floochie is the act of placing one's mouth on someone else's stomach, arm, etc. and blowing out, for the purpose of making a phthhhh sound.
flosstitute: Professional Dental Hygienist.
flubnub: The act of bumping into an obese person for the sick pleasure of watching her jiggle.
flurple: The little flap of skin in between each finger.
fnarkenessing: An extreme case of frustration, restlessness, boredom, and depression--due to the inability to rectify the situation without requiring the individual to expend an hugenormous amount of effort.
fontrum: The embarrassment one feels on behalf of people who do not know they should be
embarrassed for themselves.
We all know the fontrum we feel for the plethora of fillerneumic peckerloomers who strut their stuff like they were part of some kind of cool gansta posse. Wearing their oversized jeans half way down their thighs exposing their latest boxers prints and butt cheeks all while tripping all over the place due to the excessive flodge hanging three inches below their heals. This ridiculous (and soon to be extinct) trend is now being replaced by the modern Utah Mom fashimites who must have the latest trendy designer knock-off jeans, you know the ones with the hugely oversized stitched designs on their back pockets and low cut riding waist line. We have all been there, flabbergammered as they expose 6 inches of silky garments up their back every time they bend over for any reason! Seriously, just wear clothes that fit your body and religious choices (or at least just don't ever bend over--I can't take the fantra)!
However fantabulanistical it may be to poke fun at the seemingly emotionally stable segment of society whose only deficit is a small lack of fashion sense, it is completely inappropriate to make fun of the socially awkward and often outcasts like the faders and fangtards. We must realize that being socially retarded is not necessarily a conscious choice, but a resulting consequence of complex social & genetic environments. None of which, however, could ever really justify oneself in thinking they have become a vampire, which delusions begs serious mental health considerations (although they probably all suffer from Fincher's syndrome). Speaking of mental health, those other social freaks known as flubnubbers, whose fabulicious delight is to bump into fat people to see them 'jiggle' is just plain wrong! After all it may not be their fault their fattycapped--it could be glandular!
All though there are a lot of weirdos in this world, we all have our hang ups and fnarkenessing, but cheer-up at least you don't have a festouche--now that would be embarrassing! Unless you do? In that case stop farbling around and go out and pamper that furry little body of yours. Get yourself a good waxing and well deserved pedicure. Make sure they clean your flurples and farnarkles. After they are done shaving your knuckles make your way to your favorite flosstitute (I can recommend a few) to get that farge off your beautiful smile. I promise you you'll feel like a hundred bucks (if not fifty).
Just realize that sometimes in life, not only are we are own best friend and fan, we may very well be our only friend and fan. So go out there and be your best self!
I don't really have anything to say...
I know that this is not a good way to start off my new blog and it will most definitely curtail any future hopes of winning over the viral world of chronic bloggers to my doorstep. Nevertheless, here I am--in all my lack of glory! I feel a bit like Pedro from Napoleon Dynamite who really doesn't have anything to say, but is basically a nice guy, liked by most everyone who knows him, but remembered by few. Always welcome, but rarely invited or noticed. But, could easily be voted in as class president: yeah, "vote for Pedro"!
My wife's reading this over my shoulder as I am writing and telling me, "That's what your writing about? Nobody's ever going to read your blog!" Frankly, she's embarrassed of my awesome blogging skills, and she has good reason to feel so, seeing that everyone loves her blog. If you really want to read something that is deep, introspective or often hilarious, please stop reading here immediately (because you won't find any of that here) and read my wife's blog: www.4peanutsandacashew.blogspot.com where you will not be disappointed.
Actually, although I doubt I will write prolifically, I do plan on writing about the life I am living and adding in my own antidotal thoughts on the superfluousness of life, family and politics. Therefore, feel free to add me to the blogs you follow, after all, who knows but someday I will write something that may change your life forever and you'll be all the more blessed to have known me!
My wife's reading this over my shoulder as I am writing and telling me, "That's what your writing about? Nobody's ever going to read your blog!" Frankly, she's embarrassed of my awesome blogging skills, and she has good reason to feel so, seeing that everyone loves her blog. If you really want to read something that is deep, introspective or often hilarious, please stop reading here immediately (because you won't find any of that here) and read my wife's blog: www.4peanutsandacashew.blogspot.com where you will not be disappointed.
Actually, although I doubt I will write prolifically, I do plan on writing about the life I am living and adding in my own antidotal thoughts on the superfluousness of life, family and politics. Therefore, feel free to add me to the blogs you follow, after all, who knows but someday I will write something that may change your life forever and you'll be all the more blessed to have known me!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)