small brush shouldn't fuck with big timber

Death's Door, the view from the Spanish announcers table: sorry

Wednesday, September 6


The post below had to be one of my stupider efforts. I can’t that believe that me of all people tried to compare watching porn or TV with Buddhism and Zen. What the fuck do I know about Zen anyway? And to those poor Buddhist who are most likely googling my name so as to come kick my ass, all I can say is “whoa big fella, don’t be opening that can of whoopass just yet, I’m sorry”.

Plus really, don’t you muthafuckers have some chanting and shit to do? Anyway I was just trying to illustrate how certain acts have a calming effect on me. Plus do you realize how many years it took me before I started folding my fuckin underwear? I’m saying that before my 30th birthday I was like any other red blooded American male.

Once the underwear came out of the dryer I’d straightaway throw it into the bag. And if you were a guy and I saw you folding your underwear? I’d probably call you a cocksucker by choice.

But then one day in a contemplative moment I found myself clumsily folding my underwear hoping no one was watching. Later I actually found it very enjoyable that instead of walking up to a pile of cloths scattered on the floor and sniffing for a clean pair, I could just open the drawer and pull out a fresh pair of folded Fruit of the Looms.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"


Blogger Ole Blue The Heretic said...

There is Zen in everything and everything is in Zen.

Nothing is Zen and everything is Zen.

I know it sounds crazy. But hey, folding your fucking underwear is just as crazy! LOL

You should see me looking for fucking socks. I just throw them into the drawer and hop for the best when I need them. Same thing with clean underwear, they are piled up into the drawer.

I figure if, once I strip, a woman is worried how wrinkeled my underwear is, she is way to uptight for this Zen like mother fucker.

Folding your underwear...just crazy!

1:38 PM  
Blogger satyavati said...

There are certain things I find really relaxing that maybe some people don't; I love the sound of a clock ticking or (even better) a metronome. I'm real particular about making the bed, it has to be done just a certain way or I can't deal with it. I like doors to be closed unless it's the front door on a sunny day. I like my bra to match my shirt. I love to iron. I could iron all day long. In fact, I ruined my ironing board by using so much damn starch. Goes without saying that I'm real particular about an iron. I love to take knots out of things and can sit for literally hours very patiently working on them. And when I put up the laundry, after I get through the 'closet pile' I go through the 'drawer pile', when I sit on the floor with all the drawers pulled out in front of me and put everything where it belongs. And last but not least, everything in the closet has to face the same way and it's organized by type (all uniforms together, all saris together, etc.)
Oh, and in the breast department I discovered quite by accident today that I've been cheating myself a whole cup size. Thought you'd enjoy that bit of trivia.

6:20 PM  

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