Never thought of this before after reading a whole lot of the Walking Dead comic books and watching every episode of the TV show. But this idea has finally struck and won't let me go. All kinds of folks and societies have sprung up following the zombie apocalypse. But there has not been a story, to the best of my knowledge, a single story about a pot head who has hit the mother load.
Why didn't a hard core pot head go around to his dealer and take that stash and go to his dealer's supplier and take that stash and then go to the supplier's, um, supplier and come away with, like, 800 pounds of pot? You just have a guy in a bomb shelter with case after case of Doritos (or which ever company is willing to tie itself to chronic drug use by paying for product placement in a post-apocalyptic television show) smoking weed with an AK-47, giggling his ass off while Negan twirls Lucille around and round?
And I thought of that having never smoked marijuana in my life. I know.
Really, Really Good Underwear
So I found this underwear by Reebok that is amazing! It is a type of boxer brief made of breathable material that, honestly, is so panty like that a cross dresser would plotz over these briefs. But it minimizes moisture accumulation in a sensitive area, I never have to clear the area, and I never have to adjust the mechanism any more, if you know what I mean. They are a super expensive junk support technology that I love. I don't think Reebok will ever use this bit as an endorsement on their website but I LOVE their product.
A Jigger is 1.5 Ounces
One of the things that you do on Weight Watchers is measure most everything that you consume. To that end, I had to learn, prior to consuming my favorite bourbon, just how many ounces were in the large side of a jigger. To do that, what do you think I did? Yep. Googled it. (As and aside, I am shocked that "Googled" is a word that this blog site does not underline in red as a misspelled word the way it did "misspelled" the first time I typed it ).
Back to the stray thought. I had to Google "jigger". I must have done something wrong. And the search engine, Google, does not offer a red line. So I guess I screwed up. I was shown all these websites for Alt-Right websites. Wonder what I typed?
Fear of Racism
So I am one of those white people who is afraid of being considered racist. Like, if I make eye contact with a black person as I get out of my car and then lock my car, I wonder if that person thinks I am racist.
But I am at least a little racist. All white folks are. And I think you can make an argument that all races are a little. I know that the argument is that only white folks have enough power to implement their racism into a political reality. But I also know that a big black dude who thinks you said something other than the word "jigger" at the bar will beat the living fecal matter out of you because he is predisposed to think of you as an oppressive prick based on a few hundred years of oppressive white prickishness.
But a lot of white people are afraid of being considered racist. Especially a lot of racist white folks.
Really Weird Religious Thought
There is a passage in the Bible that says that the church, the totality of believers, are the bride of Christ. I have had this odd thought since I was a pre-teen about that. What if that means that humanity was meant to be a companion to God? Yeah. Weird. But listen.
Humanity is screwed UP. Like, we are not the girl you would marry. As Rick James famously sang, we are not the "kind you take home to mother." But there is an example in the Bible of a guy who not only married that type of chick, but was COMMANDED by God to deal with her issues. God literally commanded Hosea to marry a prostitute. Yep. Prostitute. And a prostitute who grew restless with the married life and cheated on her husband multiple times and each time he took her back and forgave her. Sound familiar to ya, my church reared friends?
So my thought, one I don't really believe, is that humanity as a whole will become a single entity that is the ultimate companion of God. I think that is the most hippie thing I have ever thought.
People Change
They just do. No matter the smart ass saying and no matter the years of who they were before. People change. You can't be a Christian and not understand that. People change because they are changed.
Lessons and Repercussions
My mama was scared for us. My daddy provided the lesson. My mama always wanted us boys to find something stable. My brother Mark found the United States Postal Service and I found Walmart. Both of these places of employment will be around far longer than our need of them. My daddy could not stand the idea of having a boss. He never told us that. He just lived it and let Mama tell us about it.
He started a sawmill and pallet making company with a friend and it never really went any where and then lit up the sky from Douglas, Georgia to at least Alma, Georgia in a fire. You have Googlemaps like the rest of us and can look that distance up or you can consider my considerable skeptical pride in the fact that a substantial portion of my youth went up in a pyre that would have made all the kings of antiquity jealous. It was a GLORY.
Daddy started a trucking company on his own that left him with less than nothing. Literally. There was no profit and the debt he had to leave behind was amazing if not exactly glorious. It just didn't take his money. It took a chunk of his pride and maybe a bit of his soul.
We boys never graded him on economics. But he judged himself by it. And it hurt him and that hurt me. The man taught me to think. He regretted that too sometimes and enjoyed it at others. He was a challenge as a husband. I never realized that until I noticed that some of the qualities I share with him have made Priscilla purse her lips. And he had his faulstsas a father just like all fathers do. But he loved my brothers and me the best way he knew how.
Told us once when I was already a teenager that he realized that he had never hugged us often. He was an orphan until he found family with Mama and so hugging was not a nature for him. So he explained he would hug us from time to time as the thought struck him whether there was a reason to or not.
He taught me to be irreverent. So few people are. And almost all of them chuckle at those of us who are. And people need to chuckle. Sometimes desperately so.
He told me once that he liked talking to me. That I did not look at the world the way everyone else does. That was awesome. And as good a place to end this as any.
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