That’s what I did mean.
Well, you just can’t say that. People will think you’re thinking about it.
What people are you talking about? You mean the adults out there who are thinking about the same thing or things I happen to be thinking about? Did you ever see a guy walking down the street, and a rather attractive (or not so attractive) gal comes passing by and, because the guy happens to be with his wife, he steals a clandestine look at her – making sure not to be noticed by anyone, especially his wife?
Wake up, Mister! Everyone noticed you and besides, who are you hurting? Looking is good; touching depends on the timing. Mental touching is almost always good – as in “I was touched by a beautiful sentiment.”
To look and to touch are part of being alive.
da harv’s credo: “I don’t want to die until I’m dead!” If I happen to be looking, it’s because I am able to see. What a concept, don’t you think?
I remember once seeing a guy fall flat on his ass as he tried to avoid being noticed as he salaciously admired the human form of a pulchritudinous and delightfully graceful member of the distaff side. Some might say if he weren’t looking, he wouldn’t have taken the header. For me personally, I have learned to do a walk and look simultaneously. I don’t refer to my adroitness as multi-tasking, because enjoying really isn’t a task.
This entire mental wizardry does stir my curiosity.
A hypothetical: Suppose you are in a restaurant and the waiter or waitress comes up to your table and blithely (disregard for the rules of the road) announces, as she shows you her pad or whatever slip of paper she uses in taking an order, “Here’s what you will be having today.”
Alternate scenario: In your own place of business, an employee who you pay handsomely (or entry level, it doesn’t matter) listens to your request (order) and blithely responds with, “I’m not going to do what you ask.”
Your next words, in either case, would be, “Goodbye now.” For some, it would be accompanied by a Rose Queen type wave.
Do you ever wonder, as I do, if our elected officials ever think about how they’re all in the process of screwing us? Aren’t they, our elected officials, doing what the waitress or our employee is attempting to do in the example scenarios presented?
Can I ask that question – or is it similar in connotation to thoughts of any other sex act, or act of sex, to be determined by Congress after proper investigation? I seem to recall a high-ranking politician saying on network television, as he pointed his finger directly at the camera, how he had never had sex with that woman. It was later established how it must have been totally her fault – kind of like she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
So what’s the point?
Exactly! I’ve been asking that question almost from the time I experienced my first slide of life. When a person the likes of my favorite man of the day, Greg Guttfeld, rattles away with his own series of abstract deliverances, the likes of which would make Picasso proud to know him – I feel, why not da harv? (Yeah.) Why not, damn it? Why do I have to watch what I say to these folks? Most of which live out there on the other side of my disturbing “blognarios” (there’s no such word, but it’s like a scenario) have little or no concerns over what I’m saying anyway.
Examine these facts of (my) life: with well over 30,000 hits, you’d assume I’d have received a torrential outpouring of encouragement – or discouragement – regarding my creative literary notions.
Oh, contraire! However, what I have done may be deemed quite scientific. My writing style leaves most people speechless. Think about the sheer magnitude of my discovery. Out of the 30,000 “blogaroos”’ (another of my words) only two responded. Two out of 30,000 proves beyond a shadow of a doubt da harv has been successful in finding a way to silence even the most heartiest of blowhards.
This particular missive will go down in history as the beginning of my new professional service. As of this moment a new company exists – taken from a group of our local Valley Girl Association – my new company is known as “Oh, Shut Up.”
Believe it or not, at first it wasn’t apparent to this da harv guy that “shut up” meant, “keep going.” Then came discovery, as my attorney friends would say, and I did discover (a lot, but not really) an almost incoherent way to converse.
But, what a marvelous bottom line to know and understand. Our future is in good hands, or would that be in good thumbs? Our leaders have taught the “youngins” well (they think). Pretend to listen, ignore, and tweet a friend with constant updates.
It was at lunch awhile back at the very posh country club of the well known. This day, we were being treated to anything you could possibly think of having for lunch with a group of the very well known. These were all people who took pride in being the founders and charter members of the Los Angeles Bull Shit Brigade.
Note: no cameras were ever allowed within these confines.
With the exception of yours truly, those present for lunch were the people synonymous with power and control. What I noticed immediately was the lack of sound. Aside from a public library, or the quiet room of a spa, this could have only been rivaled by the entrée of a funeral home. Talk about sedate…this was irate sedate. I had never been around people who could eat as quietly as they did. The gentleman, who brought me as his guest, will remain incognito because he is still alive and prominent.
After entering the main dinning room, we were escorted to our table in the furthest end of the room away from the entry and up against the glass window looking out at the golf course. After being seated, my host whispered to me, “It’s not what it seems, they don’t mean what they say. Only a few know and understand what transpires right under the noses of the uninformed.”
If a tort was a tart
And a tart was a tort
How could a heart determine
When or what to abort
If an instant was a feeling
And a feeling prompted an instant
Would guile demand my smile?
Does a sly smile depict guile?
If a thing is cherished
Then only the abstract is the thing
Speaking of and in the abstract
Happens to be my thing
The quiet lunch was revealing. They ordered in ways that said more than could possibly be deemed by me as secretive. It was pointed out by my host, that the maître d’ happens to be an extremely influential and powerful influence peddler. If something of importance is going on in this town, he’ll know and have a handle on it.
The three short paragraphs of prose did have an ulterior message other than what one might think they’ve discerned for themselves. What I was left with was a final and simple statement; whether or not it bears truth within its meaning is yours to decide for yourself.
“What will be is and has always been predetermined.”
Author unknown (not really).
* This was a compromise. I really said something else.
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