Billy Likes Ta' Peel The Labels Off His Bottles Of Bud

What's frustrating, I think to myself? One thing that bothers me is that for perhaps a second time I have felt that I had a surplus of ideas for a piece and failed to do much of anything about it. I left hundreds of words untyped because I felt pressured to submit. If I would have taken the weekend to complete the piece there's no telling how long it might have been. Of course the reality of things is that however many more old geezer references to even somewhat profound lyricism would not have amounted to the proverbial hill of beans.

I believe that this should be my final farewell here because I found an affordable catalog company typewriter. I weaseled my way out of my commitment to blogging here. My agent says that contracts are signed to be reneged upon and that I do not have to continue with anything that endangers my mental health or even interferes with my state of well being. The crack team of professionals working tirelessly to further my career goals cannot fail ( and you know there's no such word as fail to Tom Slick either of kiddie cartoon fame ) when it comes to keeping their cash cow functioning.

The only excuses to consider claiming on the radio airwaves that a triple threat ballplayer is not an MVP are ethnicity and pressure to fill a time slot while attaining/maintaining if not increasing ratings with Arbitron. As I understand it, Arbitron is the radio equivalent of television's Nielsen's.

I feel like there are two radio music stations worth their figurative sodium as they say, locally. Two for Tuesday's are the feature I observe.

Billy Joel's first wife ( who supposedly was his manager, also ) is largely if not completely ignored insofar as being kept up with in the media. Perhaps when someone has a daughter by Christie Brinkley and ends up with some book writer somebody is easily lost in the shuffle.

Maybe the man is judged by his, so to speak, trophy wife/wives and the fact that he has two daughters. I cannot think of any better standards to judge by.

To continue the train of thought here Cheryl Crow has two children, supposedly. This gives me something of a positive feeling to the point where I feel okay that I just saw her avoid doing my favorite song of hers without having animosity over it. Maybe she doesn't care for the kids to see her perform Santa Monica Boulevard ( Have Some Fun ) ; not that I suddenly dislike " I like a good beer buzz early in the morning " .

I planned on writing about some of the horrors of being of a useless age known as elderly. Not everyone can resemble B. Joel and become a parent in his mid sixties for the second time. I cannot wear RVCA or My Fit jeans anymore, maybe not even afford expandable waist J. Crew. When a guy is given up on as a potential participant in procreation life degenerates, descending into utterly obscure full blown mediocrity. It seems like there is a window of opportunity that closes at a certain age. It finally dawned on me that no one wants to do anything with me for some good reasons. I do not drive, could not even acquire an antique 250 Honda motorcycle this summer. I sincerely fell for a five hundred dollar project bike that supposedly had been sitting out for seventeen years; the seller will not return my pathetic voicemail messages. Briefly I flirted with the idea of a vintage 175 Honda, also. Technically this nonsense could be entered into a Challenge hocus pocus being as how the horribly horrific existence I lead has taken place on two coasts.

My youth was not all that fabulous either. Maybe youthfulness is overrated or was in my case. Yet thankfully it was spent in a region where there are four distinct seasons known as America's East Coast. I will never be comfortable with Deep South summers when everybody resembles Cousin Whomever and Mr. Haney from Green Acres, at least to me.

Speaking of legendary Southerners Urban Meyer seems to possibly be two consecutive losses away from an all expenses trip back to college. I really do not have a clue as to why. Still if someone is great at the college level it makes no sense to Chip Kelly one's way back to collegiate football coaching. Mr. Meyer supposedly was briefly videotaped compromisingly, Tim Tebow failed and his players backstab him verbally. His rookie QB isn't a world beater and his genius has not translated to the NFL from the NCAA. It is not going to bother me should he have to do a Florida Shuffle right on out of a state he owned years ago prior to experiencing health issues. His book was mediocre from his tenure in Ohio.

I feel like mentioning an excruciatingly trivial detail. The two jocks billed as Supermen, Cam Newton and Dwight Howard have similarly descended into obscurity in their respective sports after a handful or so super seasons.

In keeping with my ADF style of skipping from one topic to another before returning to where I began, how the hell does anyone assess ( Little Shop Of Horrors? ) Dr. Pandemic Vaccine? Maybe at a certain somewhat senile age like someone told me once you do get moody. It does not appeal to me to think that the diminutive New York sounding advocate of vaccinations is beyond, perhaps, being fired for being what some people in the news media make him out to be; bombastic if not dictatorial and perhaps even propagandizing. At the end of my day I do have difficulty respecting beyond a certain point the naysayers regarding vaccination; I give them lip service but do not seek out their company.

My Challenge entries tend to be satirical send ups. Keeping the Foggy Waters Horror Fiction one in mind as well as the previous sentence, one should not recoil in abject horror to see a sports piece get top billing while my pieces disappear without a trace as if they had all the appeal of your average sinkhole if not cesspool. Maybe this site could come up with a sardonically cynically biting feature titled Non Procreators People Love To Hate especially designed for jokers like myself.