Questioning Splendor

Where am I? How do I get out of here unscathed?
Funny when you appear lost, wondering what to do next, finding yourself alone spectating on a grassy hill in the middle of a championship at the 18th.

Then you indulge in a drink when everyone fills around you, arming yourself because that’s what you’re supposed to do.

Comfort is sought in those who bring not just warmth, but inert satisfaction, wanting to ravish the best around because it feels right to snuggle them often.

I love her, but with love, do they ever love you as much in return?

I often ask myself that. Yet is that desolate belief deeper, that tinge of greatness at the end of your pointed fingernail, the longing for something more. Is it the Captain talking again?

Is it the grandeur of Bashing achievements in flux?

Maybe it’s the eyes that smile at you in a way that reminds, brings you back, to where you used to be, want to be, reveling in the glory of what life should be, the inert meaning. How is all that intended or measured?

Does short-term Bashing lead to long-term happiness?

Could be considered highly questionable, the paths taken, paths earned, paths conquered. I often wish they mattered more. Fulfillment comes in many forms, but they can seem remotely foreign in certain territories.

I look at some pictures with wanting apart from need, desires unquenched and futures left uncertain.  Then you smother those nearest to you.

Why do I see this in my dreams?

Why do animals I love want to maul me?

Why does the one I love most smile with security?

Why am I licked by a dog I've only known for twenty minutes?

The nightmares turn into heaven, the kind you touch, making everything seem real again, grounded where you prefer to land.  Sometimes I think about getting married, having a bride by my side.

But then you go out and binge drink again… drink yourself to oblivion at the alleged folly.

Usually helps explain the decision when you have a sexy partner in crime.

Is it OK to take morning showers with a beer in your fist?

I often think about being surrounded by beautiful women afterwards.

That thought doesn’t get old, and it tends to recur.

I see palm trees wallowing in the sunset light, no cares, another day and they will likely see the same thing again.

Is that what God sees? Is this what the ultimate Satan sees?

Does winning a beer pong tournament on your birthday, half-standing, half-guessing, with a sordid name like “Slap and Tickle,” have an effect or impact on how well you’re doing in the world?

Is it all about ending up with that fat bar tab you blow on all the wrong people, happy to have you around in order to spread thy wealth? It’s certainly a pessimistic thought, probably not too far from absolute truth though, especially when you still feel like you're drinking alone.

Where does the tunnel lead?

What’s at the end of it?

I know what to put in my grill, is it healthy enough?

I liken my feelings to being at a show that’s a blur, no way in or out, the throbbing music burrowing itself deep into your psyche, gripping you, escape far from reach.

Meaning is found by looking into the mirror and liking what you see. This is how my bartender Tracy sees me.

I have the power to choose direction, as well we all do, and the gifts reaped from making the right decisions have purpose, or so they say.  What happens when you find yourself?

Is it the soothing hug that confirms the finding?

Is it a great kiss?

Or is it two?

Is it passed out, yet again, from trying to forget or remember the wonder apparently experienced?

Are you answered from getting roofied by a witch with Roxie, truck running you over when blacked out?

Empty is forlorn, masquerading in spiteful envy. Quite debilitating and easy when you have nothing substantive. The beginning of the ocean leads to an abyss, unless you manage your way to the other side flawlessly.

DISCLAIMER: I was not severely depressed or stumbling hammered when I wrote this. Or was I?

Penelope Ann Killer: My Favorite Friend/Corgi In The World

Sometimes best friends come in small packages, and there isn't one any better than my friend Penny.Penny, a/k/a Penelope Ann Killer, is a Pembroke Welsh Corgi, a herding dog who has certainly tried to herd me and others. She never has to try to be adorable.This is what my friend looked like the first time Scarlett and I saw her.Three weeks after that her sable coloring became more prominent.Apparently Queen Elizabeth II has great taste in loving the quirky breed, since they've been a part of the Royal family for more than 70 years. She currently owns 17. Scarlett owns one with maybe more to come . . what, with the cute factor running this high?According to Stanley Coren's "The Intelligence of Dogs," the Corgi ranks #11 for smartest dogs in the world. Penny has proven that with regularity.Three aspects of intelligence were measured in the study: instinctive intelligence, adaptive intelligence, and working/obedience intelligence. She's already come a long way in little time, as exhibited with how well she plays.Then she'd crash out by my busted toes.Beyond the limitless affection she willingly showcases, I often feel as though her number one goal is to make Scarlett happy.Penny loves giving her hugs!What a pup . . her loyalty is unmatched. Penny never has issues finding extra-comfy places to rest, and strangely enough, one of her favorite places appears to be between my legs when at leisure.Penny likes Scarlett's relaxing Papasan chair as well.Penny likes grass and takes pleasure in rolling around in it.Feels like home to her naturally, like wild gardens.An interesting aspect to note of the breed is the lack of a tail, instead looking like a bunny butt. This differentiates her from other companions.Penny makes friends easily and is accustomed to bringing her warmth to the forefront, as seen by her congeniality with randoms like Matt Stark.Amazing to see how far she's come from being a defenseless creature, making herself coy and cozy in protected environments.I love when Pinny has zombie eyes!I love when Pinny smiles!She effortlessly evokes smiles from others, and if you're cold-blooded she'll attack.Stop trying to be so cute!Penny is also adept at being a top-notch wing-woman at bars like Isla for happy hour, reveling in the splendor brought forth by Bashing gloriously.She's incredibly well behaved, so most places will let her hang out no questions asked.Penny excels in agility courses, a trait well-known among the breed, with my honest guess being that one day she'll be crowned a regional champion. Imagine a crown on this head.A year's supply of dog food or treats wouldn't be refused, especially the way she looks at you when wanting nourishment or a reward.The breed's earliest known appearance was allegedly around 1107 A.D., ending up in the U.K. by way of Viking ships. The Corgi is surely a dominant force to be reckoned with.I've been around smart dogs, and the smartest thing she does is love Scarlett the way she does. She's the happiest Corgi in the world, and the love is mutual.Legend has it that Corgi's are used like horses for fairies, a not so far-fetched legend.The Fairy Saddle

Long, long ago in the days of yore,
It might've been sooner, or not before,
Along a mountain track there came,
A gallant Corgi of quite some fame.
And there beside the track he spied
A maiden fair, who to him cried,
Oh kindly Corgi, hear my plea;
I've fallen off my horse you see.
And so before you further roam
Would you, please sir, take me home?
So said the Corgi, I do confess;
How could I leave you in distress?
So climb upon my back fair maid
I'll take you home, as you have bade.
And so the Corgi started forth;
My home's a castle to the north.
They journeyed there, and at her door
She cried, I should have said before,
I'm a fairy princess sir, you see,
And for your kindness to me,
I'll leave upon your back
All traces of the fairy tack.
And till this day you still can find
The fairy's saddle to remind,
How the Corgi helped the princess fair,
And just as well for You will care.

When I read that to Penny, she retorted Whitney style with "Kiss my ass!"Penny is now a year old. I love Pen-Pen!