Another stupid brief message from the President and CEO of thesoiledchamois.net, and Soiled Chamois Enterprises, Inc.™
Posts Tagged → unfunny commentary
Learning New Words
One word: motherfuckingsweetpotatolatke
Avoiding Germs & Airborne Meat
This is a personal opinion post that did not need to be shared, or even written by an extremely insignificant goof with a blog. But here we are.
Water on The Brain
I’m trying to get back to normal posting, outdoor activities, and photography after two months of watching and shooting B play his junior season of (dystopian) high school soccer. I think the unintelligible, manic-like word vomit disguised as photo tips in my last post may have been my way of dealing with that, and the realization that there’s not much to look forward to over the next six to seven months that doesn’t have the word “tentative” attached to it.
Crap Sports Photography Tips
If you follow me on Instagram and see the soccer photos I post, you may know that I use the hashtag #crapsportsphotography. This is for two reasons:
Soup’s On! Again
I’m Not a Vegan Creamy Vegan Tomato Soup with bread and vegan butter.
I visit you all here again with tales of wonderment, awe, and spectacular deeds done atop my bicycle!! No, not really. Not at all. But there’s soup! And pictures of my kid playing soccer!! The two main ingredients in any great crap—dare I say legendary infamous—cycling blog.
Burnt Chowders & Dead Robots
You know that run of mojo-less energy I’ve been experiencing the past couple of months? Well, it’s still ruling me like a jackbooted Machiavellian swine. Additionally, the Trump-fueled, COVID enhanced, Great American Dumpster Fire continues to flame on like happy hour at the Bottoms Up Club. Despite my best efforts to ignore it all and to bury myself in creative pursuits and attempts at physical, mental, and philosophical betterment, my mind continues to alternate between simmering like an unattended vegetarian chowder on life’s back burner and shutting down like a Westworld host with a fried motherboard.
Having said that, somewhere between all the hyperbolic burnt chowders and dead robots of my mind, I managed to go outside and walk around the woods a bit on Tuesday.
Captured and Muted
Going to take a second to look back at my week.
*less than one second later*
OK, that’s done.
The week had some of this, and some of that. Some of it good, a lot of it bad, but there is no use looking back, or dwelling, on all the unlistenable art house jazz of life (look at me starting to use some of the Stoic knowledge that Bill Irvine is dropping on me in his book, A Guide to the Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy.
Silence is Golden (Golden)
My silence here on this digital fish wrap of a blog is my gift to you. But I guess that’s over now. Sorry.
I Still Don’t Know
I fully admit that there was a moment when I had no idea what day it was when I woke up this morning. I thought I was over that part of our little 8 month long and counting worldwide pandemic, but alas—nay.
When that bit of momentary memory loss passed I rubbed my eyes, farted, yawned, and said, “Wednesday. It’s Wednesday. Wednesday, how the fuck did we get here?”