Is there still time to celebrate Paul’s birthday? Good, because I’m sipping Rum and Eggnog and don’t want to feel a tad bit of guilt! Oh, too, I also thought of adding a little more ambiance to my evening but failed miserably because I lack the masculine sensibilities that allow me to spark a pilot light for my gas fireplace. Oh well. The cinnamon candle in the Tiffany style holder will have to do!
I wonder if I should continue blogging if I’m admittedly under the influence of said Rum and Eggnog? Yes. I know it’s a little early for eggnog, but I couldn’t control myself. Darnit. I will continue blogging…It would still be better for me to continue as a half-inebriated Canadian than a monkey banging a baseball bat on an electric typewriter.
Ha! [if you are interested in comparing the dimwit psychology of a brain-dead monkey tapping on a keyboard to that of an overeducated and partially inebriated half-wit…read on!].
Snicker.
Now…the concept of the “Universe” has been an intriguing one for many people that are adept at delving into the realm of Spirituality, paranormal occurrences, Tarot, Qabbalah and the like (need I go on?). An interesting discussion with one nameless, faceless person last year had me defending my vision of the Universe as that place which is often described as the endless void of possibility in a spiritual sense. I’m not a large proponent of The Secret, but I do aspire to believing that Energy is, as it will always be, a reality – like the Law of Gravity or the concept of Mendelian genetics and heritability (with a few exceptions). Sir Isaac Newton was not a clodhopping maggot.
Woo. Deep thoughts by a half-inebriated human. Is the monkey catching up to me? Let’s see…
kakjlakjlfkj;aknvjweu0eknlfa/lsdfijQVNO E=mc2 [kerplunka, kerplunka…].
Shit. I think the monkey is on to something. E=mc2? Seriously???! Could someone give this monkey a shot of Prozac or something? Or…at least pop a few invasive electrodes on his head and subject him to a variety of tests?
Ahem. Now where was I? Oh, too, I also think that the “other” more scientific definition of the Universe is an obviously valid one, in that it truly is a vast, almost incomprehensible and infinite region that defies all human linear comprehension. Having said all of this, despite the scientific Hawkingesque approach one may take to understanding the Universe, the popular understanding of our vast Lady likely stems from Mr. Roddenberry himself. I am sure that Captain Kirk was less interested with the theory of relativity than obtaining multiple pieces of hot alien booty as he travelled from one sex pod to another. Did I really say that? Give the monkey a high-five for me. Star Trek rules.
Let’s gyrate to the holy hymn of Star Trek shall we? Ohura was one sexy mama. Grrrrrrrrrrrrr! Shake those hips!
Ok. This leads me to tonight’s short piece (however nonsensical it may be). It is a piece that is dedicated, not only to those kinkophiles cruising the Universe in too-tight silvery tights, spouting INTP Vulcan misnomers, but to those less repressed individuals who are in touch with both their feminine and masculine sides.
The Universe is sexless. She is a He and He is a She that really is an “It”. The Universe accepts all forms of sexy and reciprocates with equal charm as we shall see (ever hear of a Gooeyduck?).
Holy mama. Is it getting hot in here, or did I just witness a Solar flare?
“A darkened void shudders the possibility and flutter of butterfly wing
With ripple effect upon your celestial skin neither milky soft, nor gruff
Breathless sighs magnetised to orbiting delights and craters of lunarscape
Dark and light sides of a blissful polarity so demure yet ravishing…”
Oh Hell. Loving the Universe is a monumental task. Give the brainy monkey my Rum and Eggnog and “Live Long and Prosper!”
Ramblings From the Mermaid Tavern 