1. Prequellus

When I started writing this blog four years ago, I intuitively began with #2. I had a hunch that I’d want to come back and begin again, so I left a slot, headspace to expand if you will allow for the analogy. Now I’m editing and tweeking the occasional post, updating with pictures that I did not have originally.  I’m not sure if I can wedge this in the original place. I guess I’ll find out when I publish it. That’s as much of a plan as I had when I started the autobiographical blather I call eccentric self absorption. Currently I’m at post #344. At about three hours per post, I’ve racked up over a thousand hours blogging. Seems impossible, maybe shocking to my faithful three readers who often wonder if I simply typed a post while I slept or showered. I have not done that yet, but I appreciate a good challenge.

Sue B. asked me if I wrote under the influence. Well, how can I answer that?  I do not write or drive under the influence of alcohol or drugs, though you may not be able to tell by simple observation. I do write under the influence of eccentric urgency to spew out an anecdote or two. Why?  Maybe because I need to balance the overwhelming input I get from listening to clients all day. My brain’s inbox gets too full and I need to drain off some balderdash and baloney.  Here is some educated help…

“Bologna refers to a type of sausage made of finely ground meat that has been cooked and smoked. Baloney is nonsense. It is an early 20th-century American coinage derived from bologna. It may also be influenced by blarney, which in one of its definitions means nonsense or deceptive talk.”

So, for me, the highly emotional verbiage from others is psychological bologna input that I relieve by rendering it into baloney. The same analogy holds true for coffee and beer, but that output would be rude to exclaim. So there it is! I am guilty as charged:  baloney monger in the first degree. “Off with his head!”

Prequels are background stories made up after a certain story becomes popular. After The Godfather 1 & 2, someone figured out that making a pre- Godfather 1 might earn a boatload of money simply by brand association. Usually these obvious money grabs don’t hold up to scrutiny because they are contrived and must not contradict what is already known to the thinking audience. I, however, have no fear of contradiction or obvious contrivance. It’s what I do. My problem is not the prequel; it’s the fact that the rest of what I write has no marketable appeal beyond the inpatient mental health population. Again, Sue B. told me that hubby Mark has trouble following my bunny trails. No duh. I have trouble following my own bunny trails. As George Costanza said, “It’s not you; it’s me.”  It was his famous break up line that was used against him during one break up gone wrong. “I invented the ‘it’s not you; it’s me’ line,” he emphatically insisted. I would reiterate here but I’m already guilty of redundancy.

Shocking: An enormous python (pictured) descended from the ceiling into a family in Guangdong, ChinaYeah, that’s a python coming out of the ceiling.


“For the love of God, say something substantial!!” I want to yell at myself as I muddle around, cleaning my literary navel. Some days are like this– without beginning, middle, or end– and so we just muddle about wondering about time and gravitational pull; tides and whether pythons can live above dropped ceilings. If one did drop out of the ceiling, I’m sure it would be in order to feed on a warm mammal after crushing it/him/her. I mention this because the ceiling at the coffee shop is collapsing ever so slightly. I pointed this out to Andrea in my most proprietary manner. She dutifully took a picture of it with her phone and texted it to higher management. Meanwhile I am watching for monster snakes to slither out and around sleeping customers, slowly compacting their ribcage with each shorter breath.

“Dustin, wake up! A twelve foot python is crushing you to death.”

“Oh, I thought I was dreaming… I was in my ’88 Toyota Corolla and being compacted at the junkyard. Whew! That was really scary. I couldn’t move my arms or legs. It was horrible.”

“Uh, news flash, Buddy. This is not a fire hose wrapped around you. It’s a freakin’ python, snake, leviathan, soul less reptile.”

“Okay. No problem. I know how to deal with these critters.”


“Yeah. My girlfriend says I have dragon breath, so I’m just gonna breathe right in his face. He’ll lose his appetite. Just watch.”

The slimy beast just tightens up and Dustin’s complexion reddens.

“I’m watching. Nothing, man. They are descended from dragons, Dustin. It’s like mom’s home cooking when you breathe on it. Maybe I should call 911.”

“No, I’ll be dead by the time they show up. And there will be all that negative news coverage, you know. ‘Monster Snake devours local Saint’. We don’t want that kind of media hype in our coffee shop.”

“Okay. So what’s Plan B?”

“Try singing Cher songs. One time in the Amazon I was being crushed by an Anaconda, and all I could think of in my last moments were Cher songs. So I sang them and unbelievably the snake went limp and died.”

“Okay, Dustin. Tell me, I’m blank with fear. Name a Cher song.”

“Uh, what did I sing to that Anaconda?  Oh yeah, Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves.”

In a husky alto…

“Gypsys, tramps, and thieves
We’d hear it from the people of the town
They’d call us Gypsys, tramps, and thieves
But every night all the men would come around
And lay their money down”

“It’s working. He’s going slack. Hurry, sing ‘I got you, Babe.


‘They say we’re young and we don’t know
We won’t find out until we grow
Well I don’t know if all that’s true
‘Cause you got me, and baby I got you
I got you babe
I got you babe’
“Oh, look at that. The coward is slithering right back into the ceiling. Couldn’t stand a little Cher. huh? Some dragon descendant you are. You’re a disgrace to your race!”
‘They say our love won’t pay the rent
Before it’s earned, our money’s all been spent
I guess that’s so, we don’t have a plot
But at least I’m sure of all the things we got
I got you babe
I got you babe’
“Okay, he’s gone now. You can stop.”
 “Not till I finish the bridge. It’s my favorite part.”
‘I got flowers in the spring
I got you to wear my ring
And when I’m sad, you’re a clown
And if I get scared, you’re always around’
“Seriously, we’re good. Stop it!!”
“What’s the big hurry? You were almost dead a minute ago and now you’re Mr. Crankypants.”
‘Don’t let them say your hair’s too long
‘Cause I don’t care, with you I can’t go wrong
Then put your little hand in mine
There ain’t no hill or mountain we can’t climb’
“Enough!! I appreciate your singing snake intervention, but a thinking man can only stand so much and no more. I will strangle you if you utter another Cher syllable.”
“That’s it!! Argghhh.” Thrash. Wrestle. Strangle. “Oh, no. What have I done? I’ve choked out my only friend, my rescuer…. my. Oh, he’s coming back, say something, Buddy.”
‘I got you babe
I got you babe’
“No. Die you fiend!! I’ll plead self defense and insanity. Joel will understand.”
‘ I…….got…..you.”



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