I'm a legend in my own mind

Get right and get like me.
Today I woke up hating everything in life. I hated puppies, and babies, and sunshine, and fresh air, and ice cream socials, and organic gardens. I woke up and I wanted to strangle life and then sit and watch my own body waste away into a black hole of despair. Then someone shared a prank phone call with me and well. . .I'm back on track.

Run don't walk to both seasons of this classic show.




and for the more direct and base funny bones




And 'cause Dave C brings it correct

If you haven't heard of planking. . .then you probably have a real job. . .

BUT despite having a real job these photos are actually hilarious and like any good fad people have died trying to stage pictures. Thank you Darwin.


In their memory I give you "The Planking Game". The purpose is to lie face down with your arms to the side in random/dangerous places. Then you post these pictures online and you are judged by your planking tenacity.

God. Bless. America.

Like a cool watermelon martini

Ah childhood memories . .






I wonder what happened to this guy. . .maybe he has a record I can buy. His voice sounds like velvet.

I might homeschool my kids. . .

A people's history for the kids 'cause you know I luv da kids. . .

Regrets

I'm pretty sure that JoJo needs to just go ahead and come out with a new album

Logan Cabin Record Shop and Solar Energy Photo Store a.k.a hipster shit

You have to try and see her

 

When you are broken bring yourself

back from warm despair
by bathing

on edge of whispered streams
and brittle rivers

there next to the running water you

may  find that out of your deep
breaths falls a
a platinum veined feather

that smells

Like tiger-lily pine tree hybrids

The feather will lead you

on a  journey to find the god it belongs to

You won’t have to look far

She’ll be waiting nearby

And when you look at her

Her face will welcome you

Invite you to open yourself

 To the privilege of help

Of flight, 
the joy of air, and

the melody weightlessness

her own softness is bathed in wisdom.

And it all balances on a throne made from the silk
woven by

nymph born seraphim
and dusted with fallen stars

her smile looks like laughter

and when she's open 

the fire of every yesterday

dances behind her blue-gray eyes

She’s a bird of experience
who holds her own as
a woman of youth

She’s a dream blessed in

whole notes and flat chords

she sows deep medicine in the space between

the beats that

Float up from moonlit high tides
of panic

If you find that feather

And you bring it to her

She will sense your light

And turn it on.

Glory will take over you

and you will leak the shine

from the new tears born
in your eyes