Stuff and Nonsense: 2018

Almost There

My New Year's Resolution for 2018 was to live to see January 1, 2019.

With a little over twelve hours to go, I'm liking my chances.

Wish me luck

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that....hey! Wait a frikkin' minute! WTF is that sailor doing!!??

Amen

Merry Christmas!

See you next year!

The Twelve Days of Bones-Day 12

"Merry Christmas, everyone!
Now, can anyone give me directions to the nearest asylum?"

The Twelve Days of Bones-Day 11

"Okay, I gotta ask...who the hell is this?"

The Twelve Days of Bones-Day 10

"Hey, do me a favor, wouldja?
Could you keep the car on
and, if you see me running, gun it.
I think I owe some of these guys money.

The Twelve Days of Bones-Day 9

The ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future

The Twelve Days of Bones-Day 8

"Okay, okay, I promise I'll never lock you outside again!!"

The Twelve Days of Bones-Day 7

"Told you I wanted privacy.
Kinda chilly out there, ain't it, sport?"

The Twelve Days of Bones-Day 6

"What the f...little privacy, please, you little twerp!"

The Twelve Days of Bones-Day 5

"God bless us, everyone!
Jiggle the lights, c'mon, jiggle the lights!"

The Twelve Days of Bones-Day 4

"Oh, come ON!!"

The Twelve Days of Bones-Day 3

"Look, I don't give a frik how you're dressed.
You're not getting out of there."

The Twelve Days of Bones-Day 2

"Okay, what the hell is this about?"

The Twelve Days of Bones-Day 1

Those of you who stuck with me on Facebook (you poor souls) over the spring and summer of my mental discontent are quite familiar with my friend, Bones. As a way of easing back into the Blogging world while paying twisted homage to the Christmas season (sorry Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and Boxing Day folks), I thought I would inflict him on an innocent public who aren't in Mark Zuckerberg's clutches. Hey, if nothing else, The Twelve Days of Bones doesn't require much in the way of thought. So, there's that.

P.S. Since my then wife bought Bones at COSTCO several years ago (she expected I'd use him solely for Halloween. She was wrong. This may have had something to do with the fact we split up), I've added Bright Eyes, Weebones, and Shinbones. They make for quite a family.
P.P.S. I may be lonely. And possibly deranged.

"Got it. Little help."

Same As It Ever Was?

I’m back.

In case you didn’t notice (a distinct possibility), I terminated my lease at Penwasser Place earlier this year. For those who paid attention (people? You may need to get a life), this has been an extraordinarily stressful year. I won’t go into great detail (you’re welcome), but many things in my life have changed and I hurt my share of innocent people. At the height of the drama, some of the turmoil even spilled into the blogosphere (I apologize for that, Robyn).

Here There Be Penguins

Essentially, I didn’t feel like writing. I suspended operations on my latest opus, St. Stan’s: Tales From the Penguin Academy, for a time. I even dropped out of sight from Facebook and Twitter for a little while.

Luckily (that’s questionable), I returned to Facebook and Twitter.

I’ve even taken up finishing the prequel to Shag Carpet Toilet , which should be done at the end of the year. So, there’s that.

Thank you, those who stuck with me. I won’t name you because I don’t want to throw a spotlight on your shocking lack of judgment. Besides, I’ll probably forget one or two of you. But, you know who you are.

One of you has even been playing Words With Friends with me throughout this entire ordeal. Rest assured, I do not use a dictionary.

As far as you know.

So, I’ve returned to Blogger, even though the name is slightly different. When I left Penwasser Place, I surrendered the rights to the name*.

Besides, I would still like to win Blog of Note.

Incidentally, do they still do that anymore? Blogger has stopped returning my calls.

And, by ‘stopped,’ I mean ‘never have.’

I won’t be back completely this month (so, I guess you could call

"I don't like the sounds of this, do you?
Incidentally, who's the midget?"

this a cruel tease). In a week or so, I’ll start with a series called “Twelve Days of Bones.” If you’ve been suffering with me at Zuckerberg’s place, you know who Bones is. I also may throw a repeat here and there afterwards (yeah, not a whole lot has changed from Penwasser Place days, huh?).

So, yes, I’ve returned (I may have mentioned that). If you’re reading this, thank you. When you’re done, please feel free to seek quality blogs written by people such as Pat Hatt.

The problem (it’s probably a problem) is that you’ll probably get duplicates of Facebook nonsense (which I also sometimes repeat on Twitter).

I probably won’t post as many boring, longwinded essays (you know, like this).

*Not true

"Frankly, it's good to see that Little Al, or Manic Depressive Ken, to be honest, has returned, because his essays poking fun of Grandma, Slappy, Creepy Uncle Joe, the Boner-in-Chief, Fauxahontas, Low Energy Jeb, Lyin' Ted, Spartacus, Idiot Bernie, Liver Lips Pelosi, or any number of despicable people who refuse to see me as the greatest living, or dead, president, and, frankly human being to ever inhabit the planet which, to be honest, was not so great before I became the greatest, have I said that, president ever with fantastic hair and big hands, big hands, will be a welcome shot in the arm for a national psyche which was in desperate need of being boosted before I became the numero uno honcho to live at Pennsylvania Avenue, so I welcome this outstanding purveyor of the written word. CHINA!!!"