I haven't sent Bill a message in months.. I feel stale, listless. I haven't smoked weed in 18 years but I just ordered a Da Buddha vaporizer... probably only my husband Juny will enjoy it; hypersensitivity has turned me into a health nut. Anyway, is Bill's message about Marilyn being, you know, dead, tantamount to a synchromystical murder of our relationship? As you can imagine, in light of what's going on, I have to take a long range view... into the next life certainly. We know the most effective way to deal with a severely spoiled boy is to leave him alone.
"I fail to understand how I could be charged with murder as I had no intention to kill my girlfriend," sprint runner Oscar Pistorius said in a statement read to the court by his lawyer.
It took me a couple hours to figure this one out... but it formed as I wrote the above...
I stopped posting in 'snippets' because I felt Bill Maher (or whoever is using
him as a front in my fiery tale) was getting out of control. When we left off
you'll recall he posted a joke which he said is 'for scientists' (a jab at my
research) called 'Miss Piggy?' Well I've been working out lately and regaining
my girlish figure, but that wasn't the worst of it. I find it ironic that
cosmic sparks from higher dimensions are instigated by a girl's weight... these
things come out of left field, don't they?
Here's the timeline:
Remember his gag about a demonic possession magazine, Exorcism Monthly, featuring getting cocks sucked by mother on a Hawaiian vacation... right before his own Hawaiian vacation?
I wrote about this apparent invitation in my blog, something to this effect: "but
we have a lot of catching up to do first, and oh... I just noticed tropical
storm Ma ria" (Mom laughed in french).
After I posted this,
in his last show of the season, he said 'You're not my Mom, ok?",
although it was in another context... of course.
What happened next stopped me cold from updating the blog. First
the war in Hamas and Israel... Ha! Mas (more than one mother) and Is rat elle?
(rat has a silent 't' in french). Then typhoon Bopha - Bop ha! in the
Philippines, aka Pablo (the typhoon's int'l name) or 'pas blow'... no blow job
this xmas... or also Pa blow... Dad's getting busy making a metaphysical mess again.. And how many dead? Over
1100? Then Princess Catherine got pregnant; well here's a Catherine mommy! And
now some poor nurse commits suicide around that... At the same time, an artist
friend who's not familiar with all this gives me a painting inscribed La Mere
Catherine.
To top it off, another friend was helping me plant on the porch when he
fell to the ground as "I'm tired of using technology" by Justin
Timberlake was blaring. He
turned out to be ok after a week at the hospital... it was just
a jokull... but the 2nd floor 25 ft fall was broken by splitting his balls on
the 1st floor patio before he hit the ground below. Ouch!!!
And then the shootings started... Dec 11th in Clackamas, Oregon... 3
dead. Claque a Mas - claque in French is slap across the face... a Mas ...
well.... is this how an accidental Mom is acknowledged?
Then Sandy hook: The kid killed his mother.
The name Sandy Hook is spooky enough. I stopped writing the blog
around the time of Hurricane Sandy. That's when our boy got the hook, a
comedian's worse case scenario.
I should reiterate that my Buddhist philosophy leads me to
believe that whatever happens to anyone was meant to be, as a result of a
latent chain of karma we don't directly understand... like my friend "Jumper" who fell but
recovered nicely. Oh, and I forgot to mention he's dating his nurse from the St. Maarten Medical Center.
There is something to be explored concerning the responsibility we
may share in these synchronicities. It seems they place us psychically in
charge of ourselves and our environment, but I certainly don't lay blame on
anyone or anything for any of them. Nor do I think all this has to do with me
exclusively, but rather that poetic synchronicities happen to everybody, once people pay attention to them...
I'm skipping over a bunch of disgruntled
synchronicities... so let's jump to the latest funny ones. In my last blog post I
responded to the Miss Piggy? episode by protesting that I'm the ideal weight
for my height and age. Before Christmas break, in the same program as the
'You're not my Mother' outburst, he also came out with this gem: "Marilyn
would be 86 years old if she weren't, you know, dead".
Well, that didn't go over very well with me.
Right around Christmas, some 'Man Tie' football player's internet girlfriend
died, to the great chagrin of tv viewers everywhere, and then it turns out she
never existed. OK...I can relate: I'm dead and I don't exist...
Wind chime?
This story dominated the news for weeks... Then this 'hats off'
to the 'I'm dead AND I don't exist ' media poem.
But I wasn't done, although I personally have absolutely nothing
to do with instigating all this, except as a fluke reflection of my emotions.
There's snow storm Nemo... The Weather Channel's Mike Seidel was reporting from
Revere Beach
in a snow storm named Nemo, which means 'no name' in Latin. Dear Bill: since
you said I'm dead, I also don't exist and I have no name... the comfort zone.
All I ask for is a little R.E.V.E.R.E.N.C.E. Nemo also means valley boy in
Greek; where else would such a mess emanate? And...
a cute puffy fish...
All this accompanied by a complimentary tsunami in the Solomon
(solo mon) islands. (I just found out on Thesaurus.com that Nemo also means 'an
Americanism' in radio and television, probably cause it sounds like 'remote'...
analogies in overdrive!)
Again, I have to fast forward over a whole bunch of cute name
synchronicities... Don't get me started on the shit ship stuck in the Gulf of Mexico! That's a whole other post; I'd call it Crapper's Delight. Note his uncanny resemblance to the 'angel' on my new brand of toilet paper.
Did you notice cyclone Narelle (nah are elle) scared, then spared Exmouth (ex mouth)? On Jan 21st cyclone Oswald (hos wild) struck
Queensland, as my brother brought home a Croatian and Russian stripper. He
fell in love with one of them by the way.
His favorite went home to Yekaterinburg, a town within visible
distance of the Feb 15th meteorite! She's ok of course... 'Yeah Catherine' burg in 'You're
all' (Ural) mountains? Happy Valentine! My brother is my confidante, but he
never has much to say about all this except an occasional smile... how could
he? He's normal, and as he affirms, more into numbers than words. As I said to him, it took his girlfriend living there for him to tell me
about Yekaterinburg's name synchronicity episode. Gotcha! ...a la Giant Sarah Palin.
In parting, here's
one of Bill's latest laments, followed by a smooth transition movie excerpt which was playing on
tv the instant after I downloaded Bill's Brittle Richard to my computer.
So now a friend is telling me his wife is experiencing funny
synchronicities with the media. I said, 'live her dream with her!' I have a
feeling the Mayan prophecy has something to do with feminine imagination
coming out in full Technicolor!
