With age comes loyalty and rambling

I’m already proving that we become more loyal with age. I woke up this morning, rolled over, and am ready to face the morning breath of Blog. Although I must admit, Blog, I would lust after you more with perhaps a tiny swig of mouthwash.

Richard Pryor does an excellent bit on morning breath on Are You Serious??? Will I get my butt reamed if I try to upload an mp3 of this? See, I’m new, fresh, and shiny to actually having a communicative relationship with Blog…I’ve spent several years stalking Blog from the bushes, occasionally leaving him a Secret Admirer note here and there…I would hate to ruin this already good thing so early.

But, Blog, we may have to change your name. Blog conjures up images of an enormous, burly, not too bright man. And, I, well, I like my men no more than a few inches taller than myself, so a) I don’t have to pop a gastrocnemius to get to your full lips and b) I have a much better chance of taking you down if the violent need arises. Also, give me some smart wit and I’m yours forever.

Ahh, herein lies the snafu. I’m a rambler who is fond of tangents. Don’t bother waving a map in my face. All that crinkling noise and the impossibility of ever re-folding it correctly will only irk me. Oh, the mystery of where we may end up!?!

Confession: I pity my future grandchildren and their time spent glassy-eyed with crazy ole rambling Grandma dee…ain’t nothin’ but a g-thang, baby…genetic, that is…my folks are ramblers….but, you know, I’m pretty quiet in person…I’m more of a written rambler…there, that should have been my moniker, The Written Rambler…too Western?