Just a Thought...

...So I was going to start an online satirical newspaper, not unlike the Onion. I created it, then couldn't figure out how to distinguish it from the Land Locked Pirate, I wanted to make a seperate profile, so I think I'll start from scratch, with a completly different address....that is if there is an interest...??? Oh, who am I kidding these silly blogs are for the author not the reader right????

Strippers, Preachers, Failures and Saviors...

As I was delivering flowers this morning all over this town, I couldn't help but ponder the irony of a happy stripper and a frowning, almost scowling minister on Easter Weekend. Anything you experience can be a generalized life experience or an isolated incident. In the defense of the minister, she herself wasn't receiving the flowers I was bringing, they were for a funeral at her church. Never the less she didn't really seem thrilled to have me bring them in to the sanctuary. The place was packed already with Easter Lillies, and spring arrangements lining the stained glass windows along the pews in celebration of our Savior's resurrection. The old downtown Methodist church seemed a little colder than usual today. Further North, around noon I weaved in and around North Lawrence looking for the "Flamingo Club". I came upon a forlorn building next to the safety of a corn field, and mostly vacant, gravel parking lot far enough away from the confines of the town to ease first time visitors I presume. Any amusement in the fact that in 2 minutes I would be delivering flowers inside a strip club was lost in the dreery, hollow looking establishment. I couldn't help but feel a little dirty even being on the premisis. I went through the back door as was instructed and was met by the owner, or some guy who confirmed the fact that "Robyn" was indeed there. Back I went to the Delivery van to retrieve her Easter Lillies and balloons. Robyn was sitting at the bar, waiting for something, but when she got them her face lit up enough to see it brightly even in the dark, confining room. She was delighted. A few other girls sitting next to her jokingly whimpered as is custom for those who are standing next to the recipient who don't get flowers. I said thanks, Happy Easter and walked out feeling better about the day, the weekend, and life in spite of my perceived failures. (And for the record, no there weren't any naked chicks there...)

Good Friday

Alas! I am back, and with bells on as some would say. Okay, really I've lost some major steam as far as blogging motivation goes. Sometimes (as in earlier this morning I was full of very deep, sincere things to say regarding the profoundness of Good Friday) the window in which I could type a good blog is about as big as the window in which a Panda Bear can get pregnant. Okay, that was a bit of a stretch as far as analogies go. We will collectively have to wait for the king of analogys (Matt Jansen)to give it a rating on ultra dumb-to-quite clever.

I'm eating creamy chicken noodle soup as I write this as a sort of victory meal over my prolonged bout with the (apparent) common cold. It just would not go away.

The entire contents are moved out of my humble room in order to patch a severe crack in the cement. We ended up just throwing away my beloved yellow and brown striped carpet as there was not much left of it. Wow, this soup is good. Some said Chicken Noodle Soup could not be improved. Nay! They were wrong!

I feel at this juncture that I should try and salvage this post with at least one good thought about good friday, at least since I titled this post that. Without trivalizing the day anymore than I already have by including this with the rest of the non sense I've already typed, I would just like to say thanks for reading, and I hope you find some solace in the fact that today truly is an amazing, yet somber, beautiful, tragic day marking the death of Christ to pay for us wretches otherwise hopelessly lost, hopelessly doomed without the gift of His suffering.
Earlier this morning as I sifted through the paper, I thought to myself that there was not one article, or any notion of the fact that today is Good Friday, other than a lazy article about Russel Stover's increased production of choclate crosses. This annoyed me very much at first, but I got over it. I guess I don't really need a nice article in the local paper to appreciate this day. That's all I feel up to saying right now. Good day compatriots, strangers, and passer-bys..............