Rate this:

I know. What does that sun have to do with anything I’m about to say? Absolutely nothing. Forgive me. I’m working on working on trying to blog again. This is a busy time for me. I know it sounds like I’m doing seasonal work akin to being a retail clerk on Black Friday or working the grill at Waffle House after church and whatnot but I tell you, folks. It really does feel like it.

The other day, I was so sore on account of sitting on my tusche and blogging with you folks for days at a time. I can say it’s your fault I was so outta shape and whatnot…Well, why don’t I go ahead and be honest. It was your fault. I’ve never really been in the blame game business. Though, for this, I’m not taking responsibility either. I’ve got enough responsibilities on me, so I’m passing the buck on this one.

You’ll be proud to know I’ve been productive. Productive doing what, you ask as you scratch your head. Well, about a week ago, I sat myself down to get my hair cut. As a result of not liking the cut, and don’t laugh folks, ’cause my esteem is wrapped up in it, but I’m wearing a full blown wig now. Sounds silly and so not me but it’s me. I have to tell you though. I don’t do too well with it by the end of the day. Soon as I feel I’ve driven far enough from work so no colleagues will see me, off comes the wig. Hell, my scalp’s itching now just to write this.

I’ve also been taking line dance classes with a group of senior citizens. You see, my mom teaches the class and I must tell you, while I don’t have two left feet, they do manage to get tangled up still, on occasion. It’s all good though. My memory of dance steps has always been real bad but I’ve got it going on, to be honest. I’m the youngest one there and I also have to add, the coolest.

I could go on and on about how my life is taking off and I’m on the radar for celebrity. Like, how I’m so on the move with this new wig and all but I’m not the bragging type.

Whatever Happened To…

 

Good day, folks. I bet you’re saying to yourself, “Totsy’s only here today on account of being bored and whatnot.” Well, you’ve pretty much hit the nail dead center on the head. You may also be asking yourself, “Did Totsy ever get her laptop back or will I have to buy her a new one?” Your last question may be, “What the heck happened to Beatrice’s comics? Who does she think she is, giving us a teaser and taking away the tickle?” Well, I appreciate your passion and all. My sympathies and heart go out to you.

To address your first question, or rather, assumption, I am somewhat bored. To explain my brief absence and to sum up the answers to your inquiries, I was working in the studio as a co-lead to a Katy Perry song but after about 10 seconds or so, they called off the deal, asked me to leave. When I refused, I ended up in the hospital with a large imprint on my bottom in the shape of a shoe. I’m so utterly confused  why this all happened and not knowing has me off kilter and whatnot. Know what I mean? Such a request has been a real head-scratcher but I aim to get some answers to my whys and whatnots. You feel me?

And yeah, I got my laptop back recently. I’ll resume with Beatrice on Sunday.

The Dark Side of Artists

Last week, I saw the Jean Michel Basquiat movie. Andy Warhol was in it and in it, he died (from a botched surgical procedure). It never showed Basquiat’s tragic end but there was a blurb at the end that let viewers know how he transitioned. Though, you pretty much got to see how he’d end up by watching his extracurricular activities.

Always a heavy drinker, Jackson Pollock was in a car accident with his mistress and that’s how he transitioned. Mark Rothko led a life in deep depression and shortly after reuniting with his estranged wife, he slashed his wrists after drugging himself, or vice versa. Of course, you all know Vincent Van Gogh cut off his ear. Around 2007, there was an article, and I can’t remember where I came upon it, but it was said to be likely that Van Gogh had autism. I don’t believe that. I simply believe he was depressed from being a struggling artist.

Anyway, I did a few paintings along the style of Frank Stella, like the one above. As I placed each one on my kitchen table, the thought came to me that I should do my place mats in this style. None of the four pieces I did are the same and I rather like that since variety is one of my favorite flavors. I’ll show them to you when I’m all done. It’s a little sad that lay folk give little or no thought to artistic contributions.

I hope you folks have enriched your homes with original works that are meaningful to you. Probably the lives of these men folk and art mean more to me than you but I wanted to share anyway since it’s my blog and all.

In the meantime, I think I can use this computer to commence with Sincerely, Beatrice. We’ll see.

 

We’re All Controlled by Devices

Being that I’m without my main source of accessing the internet, I thought I’d let you know that I’m feeling rather reflective, and I reckon, a tad resentful. While I’m at it, just throw some haterade in the mix too. Maybe the Amish are on to something by living in an analog world after all.

You see folks, we’ve become the robots that used to get built in science labs. I know you were fearful clones would come and snatch your job, man, date your daughter or whatever else you hold so dear to your heart but I, folks, think you should be fearful of your dependency on devices. Just think. You’re now a part of the largest segment of the world’s population who’s controlled by a piece of equipment that cost anywhere from 29.95 to 999.00. You’re also teaching your children to be dependent and undermining the value of social skills necessary to interact with a real human.

In the palm of your hands, you hold a device that accesses you entry to any place in the world. And if you’re that bored mid-lifer, you may be prone to forget your spouse and kids to meet that hot thing at your local coffee shop after a few picture exchanges . Or wherever. You’re grown, so you know where I’m going with this.

You experience anxiety, hot flashes and all manner of side effects if you’re not attached to a device. Your day is just different. Kinda surreal, to be accurate. When the tech department can’t fix that disposable device after it’s gone haywire from overuse, it sends you into a rage and you’re emotionally drained after you’ve frightened the unlucky agent who happened to clock in at your critical hour to do his job.

You’re the android you never thought possible. You’re the true machines (built by Steve Jobs) and overnight campers who don’t brush your teeth come morning time when the newest iPhone hits the market.

Man, I miss my Toshiba.