Inspiration on many levels

I was walking with a ghost. by Jordan Blanchard

I saw this photo at Phlearn’s weekend inspiration link. It’s a photo called, “I was walking with a ghost by Jordan Blanchard.

How cool is that!


I’ve waved to the sun 37 times from around this point in the universe

It’s my 37th birthday today.

My science might not be accurate, but I’ve passed the sun 37 times.

The earth follows an orbit, but does it have the same XYZ coordinates every time it passes?

I imagine no.

But whatever.

My new obsession is trying to figure out how I can get hundreds of people to mythologize me like the politicians at the recent conventions.

You know, how they did to Jesus, Ra, Horus, Luke Skywalker and Rod Stewart.

I mean, they say Jesus was fully man and fully god — if he existed of course.

That means he got diarrhea. But when he got diarrhea, he hovered over the hole in the ground to make him more godly.

Sometimes he threw up after too much wine or a bacteria/virus. But instead of that ugly gurgle, belchy trumpet sounds we 200% fully human make, his trumpet was all Dizzy Gillespie.

He got fevers. But all the hallucinations were cartoons of the future, like Family Guy, that made him laugh.

It’s probably not a sin to take your own name in vain, so he had full rights when bending over the hole in the ground for fecal waste to say, “Jesus Christ this sucks!”

Don’t you imagine sometimes Jesus needed longer cleanups after a rousing poop after eating a meal that Judas prepared?

Surely he wasn’t exempt from the human condition.

I get that when a girl walked by with an iddy bitty waist and a round thing in their faces, he didn’t get sprung. But surely he found loopholes to godly lust.

Like, “Look at how awesome I designed the coxa region on her.” “She’s got a fine gluteal region.” Or, “Unholy satanic devil temptation avoidance, check out the hooter scooters on her.”

Or maybe Jesus was divinely not tempted by men, too. I mean, he created them and loved  them too. I’m guessing he was more bi in his non-sexual, fully god way.

Whenever I found myself getting to wrapped up in the mythologization of Mitt Romney or Barrack Obama, I imagine them sitting on the john, wiping their ass, getting up to pull their pants up and smelling the tips of their fingers before they decided to wash their hands.

In my imagination, Mitt smells his fingers twice.

I’m not sure why someone in the public sphere has to be made into a fucking superhero for us all to like him.

You don’t think Mitt Romney masturbates as much as you do?

You don’t think Barrack Obama cries when he eats too many hot foods and goes to the bathroom the next day?

Who are we to help people hide their human qualities so that we can feel better about deifying them?

Did I mention it’s my birthday?