The ultimate secret of all fad diets

I'm going to save you a lot of time trying out different crazy diets and give you the drop of truth behind the mountain of bull shit.  OK, here goes:

Don't eat lots of any one thing.
Eat lots of different things.
Avoid processed foods.
Eat lots of plants.
If you need to add extra flavor to make it not taste repulsive then don't eat it.

OK?  That's it.  You want a good diet, there it is.  If you really want to get finicky some things that may have a hard to measure additional benefit:

Avoid weird chemicals (that's partially covered in not eating processed foods, but also means you avoid things with chemicals sprayed on or injected into them.)
Eat stuff as fresh as you can get it.

And to sum it all up in one simple concept: eat like a crazy forest hermit.

Elaboration:  eat like nature intended us to eat.  That's quite variable if you look at different 'primitive' peoples.  Extremely variable, depending on the environment.  But if you can understand and apply this principle in a non-insane way, you don't need any of the others.

There.  Now for god's sake stop giving people money to tell you fractions of this over the course of weeks and months and years and spend that time and money eating good food.

Happy Death Day

I'm not exactly sure what a Yartzite is.  I'm sure I could look it up quickly on wikipedia.  But so could you.  Stop being lazy.

For now I'm going to assume that it is the Jewish name for the yearly remembrance of the day someone you cared for died.  Yesterday was my grandmother.  Who's name, to me at least, was mamu  (pronounced "ma-moo").  And my name to her was "the little one."  Even when I finally grew taller than her (which was quickly.  She was quite short.)

Today was a friends birthday.  It struck me as quite appropriate, though novel to me, that a religion would have the equivalent of a birthday, but for death.  After all, They are, for all people, two of the most important days of anyone's life.

After my closest friend killed themselves, in addition to the grief, was an experience that made me unafraid of death, and quite certain that the core of who a person was kept existing after their body stopped working.  It was just a feeling, a feeling that, though I could no longer hear him as clearly, nothing about him had really changed.  He hadn't stopped existing.  I felt him.  It was the same kind of non-verbal, deeply intimate connection we had always had.

So it makes sense to me, to celebrate someone who you deeply love, yearly, even after they die.  It also makes sense that the celebration is a little different, because your connection to people after they die is different than before.  But I think they like having people who love them gather and laugh and think of them with love, and it's a good excuse to gather together with other friends and enjoy each other's company and maybe eat cake or something.  At the very least, death should remind us to live.

I make no guarantees about an afterlife   Who knows how the world works for sure?  How could you ever be certain of anything besides exactly what's in front of you right now.  But for myself, I'm not afraid of death, and, though I miss those that die, I don't grieve for them ceasing to exist, but for myself, and for the others who will miss them.

Death is harder on the living.  I don't want to die, but when I do, at least I won't have to live with it.

In either case, fill your life with love and things that matter deeply to you.  When it's your turn to die, how do you want to feel about your life?  Don't wait till you're old to think about that.

The Desert Assasin

[Idea for a story from a sticky note I found, covered in cobwebs and dust bunnies, as I cleaned and re-arranged my room]:


The Dessert Assassin

"I've got a problem with a certain... vanilla ice cream.  He gives me a headache.  I need him... taken care of."

"I can do that."

"I want to see panda porn.  It would be great because they'd be so reluctant."

-Me

(if this doesn't make sense, additional information: pandas, especially in captivity, but even in the wild, are going extinct as a species because for some reason they don't want to have sex any more.)

Conversation Fragment

"...ok, I'll wear the wig next time they're all over, but they can't take any pictures, and I have to wear my bathrobe as well.  That will be awesome"

"nooooo. you can only wear the bathrobe around them if you're decent underneath it."

(thinks for a moment) "yeah, I'm pretty decent.  I work out you know...."

Grammar

Talking-to: "You spanked mah pigs, boy, and nows yer gonna get a talking-to like you wouldn't believe."
Talking-tos: "Those pigs all need talking-tos, if you ask me."
Talking-to's: "Those are Grandpa Talking-to's pigs boy,"
Talkings-to: "and its talkings-to, not talking-tos."
Its:  "no pa, the American Heritage Dictionary says its talking-tos.  Also, you mean it's, not its, it's means it is, its is a possessive pronoun"

(pig shit fight ensues)



[this is what happens sometimes when I try to learn grammar.]

Titles: the sticky tired long goodnight

I was just coming up for air and as I floated on the surface of the dark ocean of my life at one thirty AM, I felt the desire to put myself to sleep with a post.  Blogger has re-jiggered it's look and has my page views displayed at the opening page, and I was incredulous to read a number over three thousand for all-time page views.  That seems grossly above what I should be getting for page views, since as far as I can tell I have about nine mostly anonymous friends who check occasionally to see if I've posted anything new six of whom are followers who know when I do.  Perhaps there are several page views per visitor or something.  I'm not sure how I'd feel if thousands of people read my blog.  befuddled, I guess.  Perhaps honored.

For some reason summer is ramping up my activity level.  It's been low to medium for a while, but all of a sudden I'm quite busy.  I don't prefer having to use a calendar/organizer to keep track of meetings and jobs, but it is nice to be busy with good work.

Thinking about names for my new blog... Something that conveys the jist of what I like to write, which is honest, beautiful, dirty, humorous, uncensored, informal, straightforward, and heartfelt.  "eloquent dicks"?  Also I guess I have to make sure the name is available, which is tricky.  Also I have to decide if I want myself traceable to it. It would be lovely to have the freedom of anonymity to write under.  I think I'd like it to be publicly accessible and anonymous, perhaps I'd let readers of this know about it, except anyone who's my  facebook friend could read it then.  I'd like to be able to make it personal, which means people I know should, for the most part, not know about it.  So I probably won't post the actual name here.  Just brainstorm.

open entry
the elegant rantings of a perverted hermit
death and bugs  (I think someone else has prior claim to that one :)
The Way Back Down (and sub title: penis penis penis penis)
Bathing Suit Flying Dreams
The only choice left
Gratitude for the moment: an assortment of erotic parables
Uncensored: life inside an unusual mind
The fantastic, erotic and scandalous life of Mr X
in search the nameless perfection my heart alone knows
the mad rantings of a strange pornographic spiritual crustacean


ok, time for bed.