Rupert says...

Hey, it's me, Rupert, again. I know I haven't said anything lately, but that's because I went on a skiing trip in the Himalayas. The funny thing is, I don't even know how to ski. Yeah, I spent a few days in the hospital because of...well, rocks, pretty much. But so did my buddy, Pete.

You know, life is pretty interesting! I don't have to tell you that. Everybody knows it. Life is an interesting thing, the way things happen. I was watching a bee yesterday. I think I got to close, because it yelled at me. How did I know it was yelling at me? Well, that's how close I was. I got stung on the ear...ow.

But my point isn't that life is all bee stings. It isn't. I just think life is fascinating. It makes me think. The weather is cold one day and hot the next. You have a bad day and suddenly it turns good somehow, or vice-versa. It happens either way, but that's life sometimes. But life isn't only the sudden ski-stopping rocks or bee rants.

I sat on a tree-limb yesterday. It was great. The wind was blowing, so it was sorta like a rocking chair. It made me think.
But you know, I couldn't tell you what it made me think, and that's why I liked it so much! I just swayed as I sat there in the air, the clouds making shapes in the sky. I dreamed last night about flying in those clouds, airplanes and all. I had to dodge a helicopter, and I even forgot how to fly at one point. But I remembered 1,000 feet before the ground. Things come back to you like that sometimes. But it was a dream. I don't guess anyone really flies. If they do, they probably forget.

But life is still fascinating, like thoughtless tree-limb sittings...or even fingernails...

Dentistry (and other ponderations)...

I just returned from the dentist. It was quite intriguing, what with the cleaning and all. I arrived in my usual confused state, oblivious to whatever procedure awaited. They escorted me to the reclining chair, and I sat. It wasn't extremely comfortable, but it worked (aside from spontaneously moving up and down at its own whim). Soon, there was the dentist-nurse-lady (do they call them nurses?) shoving the metal-scraper-thingy into my mouth, cleaning off all that wonderful tartar residue...but I'm sure you don't want the details. Not many people like hearing about the sound the scraper makes as the small needle-like apparatus scratches across your teeth, echoing inside your head.
Okay, I'll stop.
The coolest part of the dentalistic experience was the suction straw. I love those things. She gave it to me to clean out excess liquids from my mouth whenever I needed to. Just a flip of the lever and SHHHLLLLLOOOOOPPPPP! Saliva extraction completed. It's pretty nasty, I know, but MAN, those things are a blast! It made me feel like a dentist myself, because I flipped the suction-lever. I know how to flip the suction lever. I, the dentist, am naturally dentalistic (sadly, however, I do not believe "dentalistic" is an actual word. Oh well.).
Enough about dentistry. Time for random thoughts. The other day, I was watching my sister's dog. He's like a 5-year-old kid, my sister says. I'm inclined to agree. But what I was thinking was about how cool his tail is. His hair grows down on the underside of the tail, so it's all kind of one-sided making it look like a big plume (you know, like one of those feather pens that people like George Washington wrote their letters with). As I watched his funny tail, I wondered what it'd be like to have a tail like that of my own. Probably awkward, above all else. Hmm...
Have you ever thought about what piece of furniture you would be if you were a piece of furniture? I think I'd be a park bench. They get to reside in such peaceful places, play home to the homeless, provide seats for couples, and give the pigeons a reliable location to find the pigeon lady. Park benches must have such interesting lives.
Well, enough randomness. I'll leave you with one final thought: What's the point of getting up in the morning if you can't enjoy it? (But then, who said you can't?)

What the Italian Chef Said to the Safari Man When The Purple 500 Pound Gorilla Was Having Trouble Eating Pasta and Was Thus Beginning To Get Angry

"Use your machete,
Cut the spaghetti."

Maybe Squashed

We are ants,
and I am squashed.
Well, I say squashed,
but only because the other ants
are pressing in on me.
"This harvest must succeed,"
they say,
"Do your part!"
I guess they feel squashed, too.











If I were honest, though,
I've never known a shoe:
that suffocation,
then crushing,
then one less ant.
I am not squashed.
It's just another day at the ant hill,
and the world is only bigger than ever before.
I am yet smaller, but I live,
unsquashed.