Nezza at Hella

Ignorance Got Me To 99

Posted on January 12, 2014. Filed under: General Interest, Nezza at Hella | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , |

This is my blog post number 99, and, who needs a stupid navigational chart anyway?

Your proverb for the dayIgnorance is bliss.

Captain Jack Sparrow (Disney fictional commander, Pirates of the Caribbean franchise) was a drunken sailor.  At first take, it appeared that his compass was afflicted with that very same character flaw — it spun wildly and never indicated geographic North.  When you finally realize that its erratic behavior was tied to a special property, it adds to Sparrow’s character:  the compass pointed only to what its possessor wanted most, which — in Sparrow’s case — was the lead female character.  Sparrow was not a mere 2-dimensional drunken sailor…   he was a multi-dimensional lecherous drunken sailor.

I am the fictional commander of this literary vessel, Words according to Dean (a.k.a., The Queen Mary), possessing little literacy in internet navigation.  My erratic course through the past 2 years and 98 articles has been guided by a compass that seems to point only to “poetic license.”  It doesn’t add any dimensions to my character, but, Sparrow-like, I have relied on its navigational irrelevance to steer my headings.  Hmmm!  …that implies that I had a charted heading in the first place

which I did not.  I did, however, set out to accomplish one thing:  remember how to write.  That mission, I think, has been accomplished, even though I do not see Ernest Hemingway when I look in the mirror…   nor Stephen King or Tom Clancy.

But, not important, since I have pleased my biggest fan:  ME!  That is not an inflated ego speaking, simply acknowledgement that the entire workings of the Cosmos are ultimately important to only one entity — the one perceiving those workings in relation to itself.  While garnered with little premeditation, these ramblings do form a platform of sorts from which to launch my second 100 postings…   those wishing to jump ship now, please line up in orderly fashion at the life boat stations.  Don’t want to panic the other passenger.

An essay collection would best describe these presentations — some facts, some references to events, often exaggerated or minimized to accommodate my curious, but, essentially cynical, quest for the big ANSWER.  Yes, Neo, I too, want to know the nature of the Matrix (a reference to the Matrix movie trilogy), but, there is no reason NOT to have fun along the way.

I have not attempted to monetize or advertise this blog or make it more visible on the web.  Mostly, because I  r-e-a-l-l-y don’t know how.  To put it in a more personally flattering light, I have passively and actively hidden my work because of personal motivation.  Either way, that begs the question…

HOW AND WHY HAVE SO MANY (…more than 10…) FOUND THE SITE AND HIT THE “FOLLOW” BUTTON?  Was it just late nights with Red Bull, Folgers, Earl Grey, or “Auntie” Sophie’s special brownies guiding such questionable choices?   …maybe even a game of “truth or dare” gone horribly wrong?  I ask, but, I don’t really want to know.

Ignorance in this matter is bliss, since it allows me to fantasize that there are discerning denizens out there who have fought their way through the internet jungle to sample my insightful, inspirational, spot on, even amusing offerings…   ohhh, yeahIgnorance is bliss.

Special mention to a trio of commenters:

  • Nezza, quite the global gad-about from Sydney, Australia, by way of San Francisco, simply because she blew me away with her impeccable use of English and her self-deprecating style of getting a chuckle…   okay, it was her picture that grabbed my attention firstNezza@Hella Sydney is the pixie dust that will take you to her Neverland.
  • John and Tanya Voorhees, folk musicians, who felt that my article The Story is Everything resonated with their own lyrics titled also “The Story Is Everything.”
  • mykentuckyliving.wordpress.com gave me a total surprise by re-blogging my English:  Gerunds, Fantasy, and the Splits.  mssheilasu, I owe you a re-blog…   as soon as I figure out where those buttons are.
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WTF: Wednesday The Second

Posted on June 17, 2013. Filed under: General Interest, Humor, Nezza at Hella | Tags: , , , , , , , , |

Your proverb for the dayIn the matter of laws, Murphy has a long arm.

Your words for the day:

  • broke (1) = not working; as in, it needs fixing
  • broke (2) = empty; as in, bank account or pockets
  • Yin-Yang = the see-saw twins of Tao, providing the balance we call “existence”
  • deja vu = “Oh, no!  Not again.”

Ineptitude is a trait of self-deficiency, and could easily be a descriptive summary of last Wednesday.  But, what to call it when things just seem to go wrong in bunches, a la this, my second, bad Wednesday in a row?  Celebrity jinx?  (…probably not, since I’m not a celebrity).  Stars just not lined up right?  (…something I wouldn’t know anyway, since I don’t have a telescope…   can’t read one either).  Or, is it the more generic and mundane duo of unfortunate coincidence and just plain BAD LUCK?  I suppose it could even be a cosmic balance thing between Yin and Yang.

Whatever it is, it’s all over the front of my tux.  Not that I am wearing a tux (or even own one), but, if I were (or did), it would be like white meringue on a black one or dark chocolate on a white one.  Either way, corrective action must be taken immediately.

Like everyone, I got a list of stuff that just gotta be done — they aren’t done yet, but they are on the list.  Scheduled stuff that will eventually be done and will make my life better — as soon as I stop procrastinating.  Unfortunately, as a coping aid, putting things off ’till later works only with the stuff that’s on your list.  If meringue or chocolate is suddenly smeared over your plan of inaction, it has to be cleaned up before you can resume your delaying tactics.  As a rule, it gonna cost ya.

Like that preventive maintenance to your one vehicle.  This Wednesday, that differential flush gets done.  My garage of choice jacked that baby up on the hydraulic lift, and, while suspended in the air, the case would be opened, drained, and filled with brand new heavy oil.  That would be the Yin of cosmic balance finally flowing in my direction…   at a cost of $150 plus tax and possibly some other hidden cost.  I can scratch one thing off my “gotta do” list.  Except that

Yang, the cosmic score keeper, showed up with his tally sheet and watched while the mechanic popped the lid off the differential case, drained the oil, then called ME out for a consultation:

  • “Sir,” said he to me, “your pinion seal at the front of the differential case is defective and needs to be replaced as soon as possible.  We don’t do that kind of work here, but, I am letting you know about it so you can get it fixed before it blows and damages the rear end.”
  • “And how much will that cost?” said I to him.  “Typically,” said he to me, “about $250.  They’ll open the differential case (draining the fluid I’m about to replace), drop the drive shaft to expose the pinion and seal.  They will replace the seal, reconnect the shaft, and refill the differential fluid — just like I am doing right now.”

I thanked him for the heads up and returned to the waiting room where I mulled a single implication:  I am about to pay $150 right now for a differential servicing that will be done again in 1 or 2 weeks when I replace the pinion seal.  Had the mechanic told me of the greater problem BEFORE he cracked the case and drained the fluid, I would have cancelled the service request and applied the $150 to the future work.

But, Yang — the balance to all things Yin — was not yet done with me:

  • The mechanic, waxing loquacious, noted further that the front and rear seals of the transmission showed the same weakness as the pinion seal.  “We don’t do that work, either.”
  • Within a monetarily challenged week of the above, Yang zapped two of my fairly new tires (under 20,000 miles) with sharp pointy things to the tune of major inconvenience and another $25 for plugs — and one will need to be replaced soon.

WTF?  When will Yin get his act together and show Yang how it is done?

Next up:  Hermit interrupted

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WTF: Wednesday The First

Posted on May 30, 2013. Filed under: General Interest, Humor, Nezza at Hella | Tags: , , , , , , , , , |

Your proverb for the dayIn acquiescence there is repose.*

Your words for the day:

  • chicle = a dried tree-sap used as the base for chewing gum
  • multi-tasking = doing two or more things at once; e. g., chewing gum while walking
  • inadvisable = don’t do it; e. g., the above-stated multi-tasking

True.  I’m borrowing my title for this article from Nezza, a blogger out of Sydney, Australia.  Her perspective on this nightmare…   uh, dream…   make that dream… we call LIFE is unique.  The frequent use of “WTF” in her articles seems appropriately applicable here (that was a tongue-twister).  Oh, that dealing with LIFE were so simple as uttering a heartfelt “WTF” —  or delivering a well-placed Ninja kick.

The Mamas and the Papas had a song, “Monday, Monday,” that held jewels of wisdom which I can easily import to my recent series of Wednesday mishaps.  Chief among them:  the lament that it can’t be trusted to auger good for tomorrow — or even the rest of today.

Firstly, did I mention that I am a hermit?  The upshot of that is that I do not have a doting, loving, fastidious mate to pick up after me, cook for me, wash clothes and dishes for me, and fill in all that blissful togetherness stuff.  Yeah!  That gives you a picture of the disarray that surrounds me most of the time.  Focus, as you can tell by the sporadic nature of my blog postings, is something that — by and large — eludes me.

ROUND 1.  Breakfast (at 12:30 p.m.) delayed by a dirty skillet, my only one.  Must wash it.  My month’s supply of clothing items has run out.  Must wash it.  Caffeine-deficient body crying out for succor.  Must succor it.  Weeks since my last post.  Must post it.  Thusly was the stage set.

  1. Toss clothes in washer, utility room just off from the kitchen.
  2. Put skillet in sink with “Ajax” lemon scent soap; add hot, hot water.
  3. Follow Mr. Coffee’s protocol on starting my daily brew while sink is filling.
  4. Remember the computer down the hallway, a post being prepared.  …tick, tock, tick, tock…

“Yum!  Coffee must be ready,” chimed my internal clock, impelling me from the keyboard.  Walking past the noisy wash room as I wended casually toward the kitchen, I registered a noise I could not place…   until I entered the kitchen area.  There, the noise resolved itself into a cascade of suds-topped water breaking over the edge of the sink.  Hitting the floor, it morphed into a restless pool of soapy, bubbly water gathering for a sprint into the garage under the nearby door.  A long string of expletives (best characterized as, “Oh, darn it!”) accompanied my lunge at the tap handle, capped by another descriptive term as my bare feet splashed into the hot, soapy water.  Rush to grab an armful of towels from the yet-to-be-washed pile and spread them on wet floor.  Pull plug from sink (ouch, hot, hot, hot!), spread towels more evenly.  Pause momentarily, think “That coffee would be good about now…”

Except that the “on” button for Mr. Coffee is not lit!

ROUND 2.  1 out of 4 isn’t so bad if you are talking at-bats in baseball, but, it really sucks** for multi-tasking.

  • Ponder skillet with stubborn goo on inside surface.  Not willing to risk the sink again, I decided to put water in it and simmer it on the stove.  But…   turn on Mr. Coffee first.
  • Check on wash in progress.  Move clothes from washer to dryer.  Remember post-in-progress.
  • Time not important,” as the keepers of the Fifth Element (a Bruce Willis / Milla Jovovich movie) kept saying.  Accordingly, I can not tell you how much of it lapsed between Mr. Coffee’s “on” light illumination and my next “Oh, darn it!” enlightenment which returned me hastily to the kitchen.
  • The skillet had been dry for a while.  I turned off the burner and removed my former breakfast maker, which now possessed an interestingly textured surface.  I vowed to take better care of its replacement.

The towels on the floor were squishy, and there would be no breakfast.  But, at least the coffee was ready.  Feet up on foot stool, cup of coffee at hand, just relax and go with the flow.
___________________

*The internet could not tell me from where I picked this up.

**I’m old school.  I hear the current argot is “blows.”

___________________

Next up:  WTF:  Wednesday the 2nd

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The Big “P” Does English

Posted on January 21, 2013. Filed under: Journalism, Nezza at Hella | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , |

Your words for the day:

  • risqué = sexually suggestive; indecent.
  • condescending = superior, disdainful, supercilious, pompous

The day after the day after the day of is Thursday, December 27, 2012…  that is one of those inane bits of information that actually started out as a thought-train for my next article.  It got derailed.  Regardless, bad poetry is bad poetry.  Best I could do on short notice.  Maybe Tim Burton could turn it into an enduring Christmas classic…   like Nightmare Before Christmas.

There are several reasons for my enjoyment of Nezza’s posts: 

  • really cool pics,
  • skewed take on life,
  • and, that special brand of risqué and irreverent impertinence that does not shy away from self-deprecation for a good story line.

MOST IMPORTANTLY, she does it all in pleasing, flowing English.  I would say “perfect English,” but that would imply that I consider myself to be perfect also.  I am half-way decent at English, and, I find that reading her site is a smooth, seamless experience from start to finish.  There are no linguistic pot-holes to jar the flow of information.  This is the primary reason I return often to her site…   that, and her sideways picture.

Incongruities in sentence construction have the same jarring effect as a pot-hole in a road surface;  hitting one causes the reader to lose focus, forcing a re-read of the sentence to find the correct bridge over the gap.  Several of those in a single article can take all the fun out of reading.  Nezza (hella@sydney), however, is all fun in perfect English (said it anyway, didn’t I?)  No pot-holes.

There is one construction that is quite often incorrectly expressed — the gerund phrase.  I have searched for that one in Nezza’s articles, fully expecting to see it properly presented.  To date, my grazings on her luscious tidbits…   uh…   luscious literary tidbits…   has not revealed even one.  Apparently, when it comes to being a user (of gerunds), she just says, “No!

Now, bloggers, for the most part, are not professionally trained wordsmiths;  skimming just a few sites makes that pretty obvious.  When I hit the inevitable pot-hole, I continue past it without agitation.  These writers are largely just pouring out their impressions of the rapids-infested River of Life in which they find themselves unwittingly immersed.  We are being given a view of restless waters and transient shore-lines as revealed from their individual — and painfully fragile — rafts of existence.

This appraisal is not an instance of condescendingly “cutting them some slack” for their perceived “lesser” linguistic skills.  Languages are built by usage, and the Great Learned, who observed this, created rules based on that natural evolution.  Then, the Great Learned, assuming their “rightful” places as experts-entitled-to-adulation, take credit for giving order to the structure and expect the masses to adhere to their edicts — or be subject to public snickering and finger-pointing.

I snicker not, nor do I point.  (Any intellectual high ground from which I may be speaking is along the order of a soap-box;  the Great Learned will not allow me on their dais.)  These soul-pouring bloggers are, to me, like another group of entities cast with us onto the raging River of Existence, individuals who have met the tragedy called Life and have created their own societies to deal with it and commiserate about it.  I refer to canis lupus, the gray wolf, whose soulful songs linger long and often in Nature’s wilderness air.  In that wilderness called cyber-space, bloggers raise their voices — often alone, sometimes in unison — to rail at Nature or to voice their pain, bewilderment, pleasures and triumphs, all, like the wolf, for the sake of simply expressing.  I celebrate that chorus and do apologize for my socially tone-deaf ear and possibly off-key ululations.

It’s that OTHER group that pulls snickers and finger-pointing from me.  Experts, and their caduceus-carrying heralds, The Media, hereinafter (and, hopefully, unflatteringly) referred to as “The Press (with the big P)” or, simply, “The Big Pee.”  They KNOW EVERYTHING and assume that we, the people, do not.  And, we need to be indoctrinated educated according to their insight — ON EVERYTHING.

That irks me.  It is always a delight to find they are either ignorant of what those other Great Learned have decreed, or they do not proof-read their work…   deadlines, you know.  Gotta get something out there to get a buck from the Great Unwashed.  (That be us, the general public).  We will buy anything that is broadcast, printed, or posted to the internet.  That is common knowledge among experts, you know.

Ergo, this vessel, The Queen Mary, charts a new heading;  all ahead full to giving the raspberry to the elite among us, the EXPERT KNOW-IT-ALLS (professional and free-lancing).

Next up:  To be announced.

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Nezza Hella Sydney. The Day After

Posted on December 27, 2012. Filed under: Nezza at Hella | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , |

This is my entry into the Holiday Hall of Fame for Enduring Seasonal Poetry.

‘Twas the night before, and all through the house No creature was stirring save me and my mouse As over the internet we’d scroll and click, Wondrin’ if Nezza would be our Saint Nick.  Little ones everywhere snug in their beds While x-Boxes and Wii’s just messed with their heads.  Walmart and Target this Yule season will close As “ka-chings” go silent, as if to doze.

‘Tis the day of, and (groan) everywhere strewn, Bows, paper, and boxes all about the room.  From decorative gifts to (happy?) surprise Those packages morph right before one’s eyes.  But, my RED LOBSTER stocking (with care by Mantle hung), holds only  the sound of a sigh (The one that I breathed into its hollow depth) ‘Cause Nezza, Sydney, her silence has kept.

Last post put up by this master of fun Assessed  her utility as “tits on a nun.”  Trapped with a loud, pacing boor so nauseous Her “ninja kick” quelled his tone so raucous.  Oft’ this minstrel of mornings besotted Wrote of a lost night while totally blotted.  Tinker-Bell she is not, so much more like Pan —  Audacious, impish, spawn of Never-Land.

Distressingly dark Nezza’s blog has gone, Barely can I read her old postings on “home.”  Nothing much is new but an update on porn…  (at times she DOES get kinda raw in scorn it would seem, of social modesty feigned)  …And a note of rescue from finances strained.  From out those coffers of impertinent truth, Will “tits on a nun” be her last, forsooth?

If you don’t like this composition, tough titty…   Oops!  Sorry.  Got carried away there.  But, it’s probably okay since I am certain of only 3 persons who have ever read this thing:  myself (reading my own words is just as rewarding as hearing the sound of my own voice), and 2 readers who actually commented in real-time on what they read.  And, yesssss, Nezza was one of those.  (Can’t count the more that 1,000 spam-like comments that WordPress had filtered out for me, even though I allowed some of those back-links to adorn my home page.  Just trying to be a good neighbor in the genre.  Some questionable product  ads did get through, but, I am going to go back and delete them.  Promise.)

On the flip side IF YOU DO LIKE IT, check into one of those crisis centers immediately.  They can help restore your bio-chemical balances and return you to a full and productive life in mainstream society.

Next up:  The day after the day after the day after…

Article references:  Nezza, Hella, Sydney, hellasydney, porn, crisis center, Red Lobster, Tinker-Bell, Never-land, Pan

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Oh… My… G– (conclusion)

Posted on March 13, 2012. Filed under: General Interest, Humor, Nezza at Hella | Tags: , , , , , , |

DVD update:  The Dean is nursing a hang-over..  no, that’s a hang nail…   bandaged over, caused – he says – by jet lag or the DTs…   oh, I see.  DST.  Any way, he says it wasn’t his fault.  SID and that Smart Dude are piecing things together over Dude’s smart phone since The Dean’s phone is sort of on the fritz.

SID:  Here’s the link that will get you there — nezza@hella Sydney.  That sideways picture that caused the Cap’n to revert to adolescent aggression is on the author’s profile blurb.  But check the post “My ego is bigger than yours.”  That picture…  yeah, that one right there in the blue thingamabob…  even in the dark the Cap’n managed to scroll to that one.  Hmm!  Hmm!  Hmm!  Smart Dude:  What does that mean, “Hmm.  Hmm.  Hmm”?  SID:  “Wow”  Smart Dude:  Heard that.

We will leave them with their fantasies.  But, honest, TheDean01 will resume regular updates soon.  Hmmm!?  I wonder what all that fuss was about?  Let me just take a small peek over Smart Dude’s shoulder, here, and……………….. Oh…   My…   G–

Next up:  Ship’s itinerary – a quick review.

Thanks, again, Nezza.  I hope I have neither offended nor embarrassed you.

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Oh… My… G–

Posted on March 12, 2012. Filed under: General Interest, Humor, Nezza at Hella | Tags: , , , , , , , |

Shhhh!  The Captain, First Mate, and some Smart Dude are having a serious discussion.  Oh, I’m your DVD (Disembodied Vocal Dialogue) called in to direct you through this sudden and totally unforeseen emergency:

SID:  mmmm!   TheDean:  uhhmmfffmtm.  S. Dude:  Ah…   what exactly is it you want me to do?  TheDean:  Uhhhh, well…   SID:  Okay, look, Cap’n here can’t put together today’s promised post because of his… torn nails.  S. Dude:  That’s why the band aids on his fingers there?  SID:  Yeah.  TheDean:  It wasn’t my fault.  It was that picture…   SID:  It’s okay, Cap’n, let me get him started.  Anyway, Dude, the Cap’n records everything in here, and, he wants you to take that audio and run it through one of your super machines and convert it to text.   He can then use that as his replacement post for  today.  S. Dude:  I’ll try, but, no guarantees.

DVD:  Oh, goody!  Smart Dude just hit the “play” button.

S-I-D!!?  Yes, Cap’n?  HELP ME OUT HERE.  I NEED SOME JOHNSON AND JOHNSON BAND AIDS.  Don’t have any.  Will Curads work?  I DON’T CARE WHICH!  JUST HURRY.  (state room door opens, shuts)  Are we gonna need any NeoSporin or Bactine?   LATER, MAYBE.  JUST GET THOSE THINGS OVER MY FINGER TIPS.  Is that your smart phone there?  What are those scratch marks on the touch screen?  IT’S NOT MY FAULT.  IT WAS JUST…      THERE… ON THE SCREEN.  Wow!  Samsung will be thrilled.  They’re going to sell a new phone.  T-Mobile is gonna charge you big time for a replacement.  IT’S NOT MY FAULT, I TELL YOU!

DVD:  Before this goes on too long, let me note that TheDean01 is practicing plugging brand names into this blog.  The poor unfortunates listed here have neither solicited, nor paid for, any embarrassment…   I mean, advertisement…   associated with this post.  Back to the audio.

IT’S THAT DST…   FIRST MORNING AFTER THE TIME CHANGE…   I HEARD A BEEP FROM THAT PHONE…   IT’S 7:30 AM AND STILL DARK…   I CHECKED THE EMAIL – A NEW SUBSCRIPTION TO THE BLOG – AND I HIT PROFILE AND THERE IT WAS THAT PICTURE…   Slow down Cap’n.  Is that part of a finger nail wedged between the edge of the screen and the frame?  How in the heck did you get that screen all scratched up?  THE PICTURE WAS LAYING ON ITS SIDE LIKE THOSE CENTER-FOLD PICTURES IN PLAYBOY OR PENTHOUSE AND IT WAS DARK AND I WAS STILL ASLEEP AND I TRIED REAL HARD TO OPEN THE FOLD OVER SO I COULD SEE THE WHOLE PICTURE…   Whoa!  Big boy.  And, you hit “profile” like this and………………………………………………………      Oh…   my…   G–  

DVD:  Smart Dude hit the “stop” button.

S. Dude:  That’s pretty lame, boys, but I’ll print it up and get it back to you this afternoon.  Hey, that phone really does have a scratched up screen.  Screw driver?  SID:  NO!  Don’t touch that “profile” button…   S. Dude:  Yeah, right!……………………………………………..Oh…   my…   G–

Next up:  Oh…   My…   G–  (Conclusion)

Special thanks to Sydney, Australia – I really needed that (Whew!  Somebody point that fan over here.)

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