The rope and how to swing it ... Or ... something else entirely in Normal entries

I have this agreement with a friend of mine; no email unsent. I don’t have an agreement with y’all. I say this without prejudice, strictly speaking there is no contract implied or otherwise, no verbal agreement, not even an exclusivity. With y’all I mean. I like y’all, let me qualify that, I like the y’all of y’all I like, some of you can go piss up a rope. Humph. I don’t mean that in a bad way, what some of y’all do with consenting ropes not only isn’t my business but could be a beautiful thing.

Now that’s out of my system, I wrote a very long entry yesterday specifically for this very journal and decided to tuck it away in a corner of my hard drive where there may or may not be some empty beer bottles, dirty laundry so long neglected it has gone in and out of style twice now, and bones that, to the best of my knowledge, are probably not human, I’m not a medical expert, and the few occasions I’ve falsified those credentials it was not a forensic field that I wasn’t really an expert in.

The entry crossed a line I have promised not to cross. Granted, it didn’t do so in a harmful way and spoke more to the foolishness of certain courtroom procedures and the greater foolishness of such things playing as entertainment. It didn’t cross a real ethical line, however, the ethical line I drew in the sand years ago is several feet in front of the acceptable one. In most areas of my life I will cross a line just because it’s there. I can’t talk about real cases, even though the entry wasn’t about the case as such and was a pretty funny exchange between myself and opposing counsel. Not strange funny, more of a sub category of ha-ha funny; stupid funny.

I went to see the new Avengers movie last night. First time I’ve seen modern 3D. Pretty Fucking A cool. I realize I wrote an entry a few days prior sorting of quoting the good robot at the end. I hadn’t even seen previews, it’s a coincidence, though the line itself was damn near verbatim, my intent was different, and, whereas the movie made a lot more money than the entry, the entry was much cheaper to produce. If I knew I could get Stan Lee to make a cameo appearance I would have.

I’ve spent part of my morning rearranging clutter. That’s where the reference to bottles, laundry and bones came from, my surface sub conscious. Heh. That was an unrelated heh, I was having one single laugh over something else I was thinking about while typing. It was really funny.

I can’t qualify it exactly but there is a point at which a room is never going to get clean, you just arrange the clutter into symmetrical piles, or, barring that, decoratively asymmetrical piles. I have, in the past, tried arranging clutter alphabetically, chronologically, sentimentally. It doesn’t matter; like Kale or Wheat grass once you press the juice button there’s no going back. At that point it’s embrace or abandon. I embrace y’all, but I insist those of y’all who have in fact pissed up a rope wash your hands first.