via Daily Prompt: Bitter
I thought of “Fruit Ninja”. Swipe your finger across the screen and slice a bunch of fruit in half. If you clear a screen, a fruit fact popped up. “Lemons have more sugar than strawberries”. Wow! The universes expands.
Then I remembered Survival School in the Army. Master Sergeant Squire telling a half starved class of us that, if it’s sweet, it’s probably safe to eat. There are a bunch of other tricks to find food that wont kill you. He told us to act like babies. Babies like sweet foods because they are usually safe to eat. When you’re starving, you will choke down just about anything, so act like a baby.
When we get older, out pallets expand. I enjoy a sharp IPA. Scotch, old, smokey and the color of strong tea is a special favorite of mine. Savories and spicy hot foods make me happy. I even eat Brussels Sprouts. Mom would be proud.
For now, what say we work on our survival skills and go get some ice cream. My treat.
via Daily Prompt: Lifestyle
Any where you go, you can hear someone talk about this diet or the latest weight loss thing. Drives me nuts. When I worked as a personal trainer, I would tell my clients, they were on a diet. Insert blank look. “You haven’t given me one.” I never did. I’m good at lifting heavy things and teaching others to do the same. I am not a dietician. Whatever you cram into your pie hole everyday is your diet.
The same with your chosen lifestyle. What you choose to do everyday is your lifestyle, your choice. Who you spend time with, the work you do, couch sitting or mountain climbing. It’s just like your diet. You can plan it or let it happen to you.
It’s just the results that are different.
via Daily Prompt: Cranky
“I’m not cranky! I’m under caffeinated. That’s right, my fun-meter is pegged and I’m flat out of give-a-damn. If you want me to care see me tomorrow. ” Why can’t stupid people just leave me alone?
If thoughts like these pass through your mind, you are not alone. The world is filled with many people. Some would say to many people and to many of those people are stupid and insist on speaking to me before I’ve had enough coffee. It may have something to do with working the night shift. I admit it’s reasonable to expect everyone to be fully caffeinated by 5 P.M.
That said. If you speak to me again before my second cup, I will hurt you.
via Daily Prompt: Timely
The tired theme echoes in stories and movies; In our darkest hour, a hero arose…
The arrival of a hero isn’t a timely event of the moment, it’s an event of the movement. We look at the cycle of events and discover that someone stepped up and did something, took charge of the chaos and made a difference.
Just to keep things in perspective, sometimes the person generally acclaimed as a hero, is in fact planting more chaos and destruction. Not in the immediate events. The succor and support are meaningful, if short sighted. The understanding of the act comes after, in the delayed recovery and developing dependency of New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. The crippling of national economies with international support, only recognized by the collapse when it is cut off.
The hero doesn’t define the moment, the moment defines the man.
via Daily Prompt: Unravel
The first thought that popped into my head was a theme song from a sitcom. Still, the song has a point. The pursuit of Why. Quantum mechanics and theoretical exploration aside, there is a more important why.
Why are women crazy? By the Einstein definition, they are insane. Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result is insane. What could possibly make them believe after years of effort, trying to raise a functional adult, that they will succeed all of a sudden? Echos of begging to pick up clothes, not leave dirty dishes on the floor, please take out the garbage.
Good grief! You married him as an over-grown child. What makes you think he will change now, just because he has a job? Insane. It is a mystery to be unraveled by greater minds than mine. I’m going to play Nintendo.
via Daily Prompt: Heal
“Time heals all wounds”, another lie they tell. First a hit, a flash of blood. The pain comes later, with the ache. A scab, maybe stitches or staples to close the hole.
A painful scar, red and swollen, tender. It has to be in a place that you hit against everything around you. Probably, on the side you sleep on so it wakes you up in the night.
So you start to heal. You can sleep through the night, sometimes. The wheal is less noticeable. People ask about it less often. It’s old news.
I wish it was me. It should have been. But, he was there instead. Always there at my back, covering me.
via Daily Prompt: Outlier
Outside, looking in and shaking my head in sad disbelief. That’s the way it feels. I’m not the minority, claiming oppression or institutional discrimination. I am not the religious zealot screaming on the corner, condemning everyone who passes to whatever version of hell they fear.
I am the iconoclast, laughing at religions who pray to the same god and argue about who is right. The same groups that war over such stupid disagreements. I talk about faith instead of religion. I’ve studied history and know where most of the holy ritual come from.
I am the radical who refuses to accept excuses for your life. I refuse to accept responsibility for what others did a hundred years ago. Two hundred years ago. When you bring up institutional discrimination, I ask what the equal rights laws are. Why can we have a Black Caucus but not a White Caucus?
Yep, I’m an outlier. A statistical improbability today. Someone who doesn’t care what your opinion is about my opinion. I’m willing to discuss any topic you want, but refuse the social expedient of agreeing just because a poll says everyone else does.