I make my spaghetti. I listen to Gary Renard “Secrets of the Immortal”. This is a book about the Course in Miracles, which is not like Deepak CHopra, Wallace Wattles, Jack Canfield, Rhonda Byrne, or any of the others. Renard is not a upbeat go get ’em enterprenuer, but a spiritualist. I am boiling the pasta, and wonder what it would be like to be in Jethro Tull, or one of the many fabulously successful bands of the 60’s, 70’s and 80’s. A far better lot than what we have today. America is a limbo of greedy sharks. It is unrecognizable from what it was like when I grew up. People would not even recognize it.
I like this spaghetti. It is not “gourmet”. I do not even season the burger too much. I like it, as long as I get the pasta done right. With bread and butter. Cheap, and it’s good. I cook it up quickly, a spoon of sugar in there, and it’s pretty tasty. Put some browning sauce in there with the hamburger, then drained it and dumped in the spagetti sauce. Not bad.
I listen to Gary Renard. These books.. tapes..whatever..they are more about how we experience ourselves in this world, than success in it.
That spaghetti was good, and fit my budget. I guess it’s not gourmet, but then, I do not like many of the recipes with everything but the kitchen sink thrown into it. Very satisfying, and I will make it again.
My tummy ache reminds me to be appreciative of the torture that my fellow humans are always enduring. Like that one guy down at 7-11 in the wheelchair. My sister’s problems.. my Aunt Norma’s cancer. People go through hell dealing with their bodies. I got no appreciation for others. You NEVER do.. until YOU have experienced it yourself.
The local bad girls are out there, even in this heat trying to get money for drugs I guess. I can hardly believe it. I tell Kissy Chris to come over and get cool, to take a shower, but man she wants that shit more than ANYTHING. There is nothing I know of so incredibly addictive as crack. Nothing I have ever seen. People will do ANYTHING for it.. anything. It is scary and Kissy Chris is scaring me, I don’t want her around me, nor any of it, none of it close to me or around me. They pick up felony after felony..and nothing stops them. Not prison, not jail, not ANYTHING.
People are crazy. They just are. Every single one of us. I do not know even why I write this blog. It is because that is what is happening around me..that is the way, that it is. Me, I am crazy. I love geeky gadgets. I love to read books, but get a little carried away. After all, the person who wrote the book is just another crazy human. I am crazy in this way- I like to write. I like to write, about what I think about things.