Friday, January 2, 2009

It was inevitable...2008 in review

2008 was...interesting, to put it mildly. I am glad to see the tail end of it, though life does not generally hold to or respect a calendar. Whether you get married, divorced, born, die, come out of the closet, flee the scene of an accident, or sacrifice your all for your job, it being Arbor Day or Flag Day doesn't matter.

The following are things that crossed my radar in 2008.

People died.
Rest in peace - R, C, M, and D
Hope your lives accorded enough happiness that you passed with no terrible regrets.

People departed.
Not this mortal coil, but that time, distance, and life relocated them away. It happens, and all you can do is move on. Fare well to Distracted for now, though you'll be back when the Ritalin kicks in and you forget that you had left.

People arrived.
Some newbies, and some wonderful renewals (Alienation, BP, etc.). Welcome. And welcome back.
On the professional front, colleagues now have my scent and no longer growl when I approach too suddenly. Improvement!!

Celebrity.
Lesson learned: celebrities are merely good-looking people with money who get filmed and photographed alot. Bonus if they have talent. Martin Short (Milwaukee). Bruce Campbell (Chicago) Patrick Stewart (NYC), and Ray Bradbury (San Diego). Confused friends and family by incorporating Fat Momma into the Christmas newsletter.

Some stayed home. Thanks, foul weather and "suckonomy". Agoraphobia.

Some traveled. NYC. San Diego. Chicago. Michigan. Some other places I may be forgetting...

Barkles went blind. Still bites and barks with the ferocity for which her breed is known. Suck it, SARDS.

The economy tanked. No one knows why. It just did. Joads with cell phones and internet access. Rose of Sharon, get ready to dispense emergency nutrition.

The war in Iraq continued. History will decide what this war is.

We made political history. Obama. Democrat. Time for all to cleanse and heal the nation's wounds. Big job and big mess to clean up thanks to Junior and his comrades. Coconut cake is apparently the choice of "clean up my mess" types. Photo below ( from http://politicalticker.blogs.cnn.com/category/george-bush/) seems to say it all. 5 dollar foot long, George and Laura? Or $10 for the cake?



Mother Nature, Superbitch. Snow. Floods. Tornados. Plague of locusts, and rainfall of frogs...next. Would...not...give...it...a...rest.

SpinePuncher started her last year of high school. Sunrise, Sunset. Tears.

Nut Logs were discovered. It's a log of salty nuts wrapped around a perfect center of sugar and fat. Candy gets no better than this.

Intelligence no longer a necessity for leadership or public office. Palin. Detroit executives. Stephens of Alaska.




Passed the year in Leonard Cohen downbeat. Was it necessary for me to be this depressing of an emo? Am going iPod-less for next 30 days as penance.





Realization that am a bit of an ass. Realization is the the first step.
Second step is shifting blame.
Third step is acceptance and extending the middle finger.
Am what I am, but promise, will strive to be...nicer. At times.

Bigfoot remains discovered...not.
Seriously, bastards, with all the suffering in the world, you had to monkey with BigFoot? The lissome yeti? Suffering Sasquatch?




O.J. Simpson...jailed. Say what you want. Regardless of the crimes he is accused of...he was funny as Norbert in the Naked Gun films. How is it that one can get off scot-free for murder, yet get jailed for stealing a football and some clothing?



Larry King
...he gets paid for writing in a manner like this? Staccato-style writing in which comments on everything with little brain involved. I do it for free. Difference between an high-paid escort and a village tramp is Larry King and me.

As we go into 2009, I think 2008 can be summarized by a little ditty from Ice Cube...irony expressed as rap.





This is my last post as 'Allure of Train Tracks'. The train came, and I am still here.

In 2009, I will post as...Charles.

Hope 2008 was good for you, and that 2009 is simply...better.

Happy New Year.

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