be random what is now when is then where is email who i am how it is why it is leave a note? share me, share you make me smile thank you other journals (of course I should be sleeping) (what's life got to do with it?) about me (too much to know at once) friend? (tic tic tic, toc) BE MY GUEST (BOOK) << MISSING �SOMETHING? >> the bottom line who can when i had the time the first of december (has another song) what i do < ? me # > < ? harrychapin # > < ? Random Acts of Journaling # > < ? Poetic Voices # > < ? The Write Club # > < ? Nights Awake # > < ? Fluid # > < ? Adopted # > < ? Childlike # > < ? Poets-Muse # > < ? Five Hundred # > < ? As You Wish # > temporary place holder ()))CRAYON-BOX)))> published blogmad! varb? �2015 CANDOR COMMUNICATIONS IF YOU WANT TO USE THE WORDS FOR ANY REASON TALK TO ME |
a day in the life an extra hour at work, three hours deleting mail so the computer could continue breathing and I could download mail (still have an hour or few to go to get the rest of the mail... but at least I can do other things like this), an hour managing four Fantasy Baseball teams, an hour at the gym, a half hour shower, a half hour eating, immeasurable time masturbating, four hours sleep, an hour editing (page formats, an entry or few), and that was the day that was... and here we are...
anyway, it was Sam (retreating back to the original interruption) and not a telemarketer and the news was (and is, and will be when the magazine hits the newstands, since it hasn't actually happened yet) that the next (June) issue of FHM will have a photo of yours truly (that would be me, I suppose... does this make me a star?) somewhere in it's soon to be sticky pages... it seems that a while back I was cohersed into posing as a side-effect for a series of shots Sam was taking of his best friend, who we shall call Fatz, for possible inclusion in an article in the magazine... Fatz was selected to participate in a weight-reduction program the magazine was sponsoring and he was asked to submit some before photos, and the one with me in it is apparently the lead photo for the article in the June issue (I guess they were going for a 'campy' feel as Fatz posed as a rotund running back {football} and I was the obligatory tackler being pushed aside... hey, somebody had to do it)... I have no idea how it looks as I've never seen the photo (I do not believe I was naked, and if that disappoints you, well, you'll just have to come over some time... or meet me at a nude beach, perhaps)... so now I shall bask in 15 minutes of fame as an extra in a photo in a magazine... (feel free to join me) ok, I am through basking (feel free to continue)... perhaps we will bask again when the magazine actually hits the newstand and I can see the picture... Sam is calling the magazine to demand photo credit, of course (we jest, but we don't want to big guy to feel left out of his own idea, after all)... well, where were we?... ah yes, I was summarizing a typically mundane day in the life of the unknown pop-star and occasional photographer's model you have come to know and love as candora... naturally (oh really?) you are asking yourself, why doesn't this happen more often as you just can't seem to get enough of the sorta toon-like ramblings you find here (ah, perhaps we have not quite yet stopped basking... or at least ego is mocking me again... or is this me mocking ego... analysis pending)... well, what with the busy life of nursing an ancient laptop and trying to avoid living in an ancient body and spending more than a third of most days taking care of others so I can afford to live in the comfortable poverty to which I've become accustomed (among other basic bodily functions and the occasional surprise visit from the universe), of course I do not have time to update daily (no less edit typos), so we'll just have to be satisfied with dull entries like this one... however too brief it may be for us... so you see (what?), life around here is much too uneventful to be blathering on about it too often... that is why we here at the candora collective use imagination and fantasy and you, dear readers and the rare muse (ah, the gift of a true muse is beyond explanation and so powerful, it unfortunately scares most potential human muses {and those struggling to be human} away, alas... it truly is lonely at the vortex), to stimulate and expand on the literary implants we leave here at Dland... there are other places, you know (some not even mine)... so as we were saying in the first paragraph, before we were interrupted by yet another oddity that calls itself real-life, here we are... all set for a night off (with the TV actually off as Sam is doing his once-in-a-while all-night security job at some billionaire's house... and you think I make this stuff up?), a night that promises all the right circumstances for a few dozen entries in the various diaries, journals, and whatever-we-call-them web-places I occassionally frequent with my own brand of verbosity, complete with the ever-exciting typos, obscure references, illogical pronoun shifts, and yes, some of your favorite oxymorons... so here is your invitation, come join us now as we embark on a night of splendor in the babble...
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I love you all for coming... for reading all these words for every click feels like more love (I know that sounds absurd) if I could only tell you... one thing more tonight I'd say I wish you could come home with me and be my friends for life |