The Problem with Normal People

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You dudes picked up my sagging spirits tonight and I refrained from engaging that filthy beast. At least temporarily.
 
You know, someday I'm gonna figure out what portin is and probably port everything in sight, the way you fellars talk about it.
 
So if your in a room full of waco's what would normal mean ? :p

If you was in the least bit a nut job, like yours truly, you would understand that no diagnosis covers all them particulars of wackjobiness. IOW, the tension is starting again this a.m. thinking about the tree that got away yesterday. That Moby **** with branches and leaves and a hole in her belly. She's callin out to me, "See. U ain't so tough! Ha Ha! Run away I see! Well keep on truckin, Coward!"

My blood is a boilin. There's no good reason I can't sacrifice everything to lay her down nice and proper. So what if I get crushed! That old beast can't hurt me!
 
You know, someday I'm gonna figure out what portin is and probably port everything in sight, the way you fellars talk about it.
Porting usually refers to modifying the intake ans exhaust ports of your saw. However, in your case it sounds like it might require a visit to the proctologist.

Where's the good Doctor P when we need him.
 
Porting usually refers to modifying the intake ans exhaust ports of your saw. However, in your case it sounds like it might require a visit to the proctologist.

Where's the good Doctor P when we need him.


Ah ha! Now I get it. That's why my proctologist likes me so, so much. (I like her, too, but don't tell Armageddon. She's the jealous type.) If I ever travel to outer space, I'm bringing my chainsaw with.
 
Go see a shrink; if talking to the doctor makes you feel better, you're crazy. If talking to the people in the waiting room makes you feel better, you're not. ;)
You missed my whole point :rolleyes: Sanity defined merely by a collective view of peers, society and yes doctors indoctrinated into the illusion called sanity. The head doc's are actually many times the sickest of the whole lot because they believe their training and study created by collected materials from societies past somehow makes them sane. My question of if your in a room full of waco's what would normal mean has wisdom derived from my views of society and by personal exploits of my not so distant past. Sane it would seem is proportional to the collective status Que but "is it Sane really"? If 1 million people are in a room and all but 1 are full blown lunitics the outcast is the sanest one in the whole group! However; the collective view of this group likely will see it otherwise.
 
is that you can't really appreciate the depth of tension, we who are sickos, experience over making decisions, at least ones that will likely lead to our ultimate demise.
I noticed my 30 inch dia 80 ft high oak crying out to me a few weeks ago. Many limbs were naked. I realized it was hoping I would take her down before she rotted out.
Today, as I was finishing my notch, my sweetie pie, Stihl 660, began to tear into the old girl's fibers like butter. "Uh oh! Feels like she rotted out inside." Indeedy! Upon removing the wedge, I got a good look-see. She was gutted. A rim of about 7 to 8 inches of solid wood forming a thick ring around her perimeter is all she's got left.
For many of you boys you would call it a day and leave her alone, move along, sing a song, right? Right! For wackos like me, I grit my teeth and take this challenge as the ultimate test of my manhood. Even if it is the most dangerous type of tree felling out there, to me she simply must come down, right now, by my hand. The ulcerating tension swells inside because, while I'm completely out of my mind, I'm not really crazy about dying, especially when there will be vast amounts of unbridled pain involved. If you can talk me out of this, please do, but hurry. If you don't hear from me again, my stereo, my old chair and three packs of unchewed Red-Man are all yours.


Well, I did it again. And I am that innocent. Here I was minding my own business, trying to get your input about the safest way- not to kill myself- to take down a rotted out old oak and I forgot to ask. DDDDDUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

Any suggestions that I might heed?
 
So, Any chance you could sneak - up on this beast that torments you so and take a few photos ??

David

I'll try. Unfortunately, I have a tendency to destroy things when doing something as harmless as taking pictures.
 
Go see a shrink; if talking to the doctor makes you feel better, you're crazy. If talking to the people in the waiting room makes you feel better, you're not. ;)

I train Shrinks. That's my profession.

Once, I got help from a psychiatrist. I was having trouble with my dog, Hank. Dr. says "How can I help?" I says, "Dr., I love my dog." He says, "So, what's wrong with that?" I say, "No Doc. I really love my dog." He says, "That's a good thing. Loving pets is normal." "Doc, I really, REALLY, REALLY LOVE my dog."

He looks at me and says, "What are you sick? Don't love your dog. Are you crazy? What's wrong with you? You love your dog? Get out of my office! you perverted demented Nut!"

I got better
 
You missed my whole point :rolleyes: Sanity defined merely by a collective view of peers, society and yes doctors indoctrinated into the illusion called sanity. The head doc's are actually many times the sickest of the whole lot because they believe their training and study created by collected materials from societies past somehow makes them sane. My question of if your in a room full of waco's what would normal mean has wisdom derived from my views of society and by personal exploits of my not so distant past. Sane it would seem is proportional to the collective status Que but "is it Sane really"? If 1 million people are in a room and all but 1 are full blown lunitics the outcast is the sanest one in the whole group! However; the collective view of this group likely will see it otherwise.

Holy Cow. And I thought I was nuts.
 

You are tempting me to throw out the diet I've been on for the last ten minutes.

You know who was a cool, cool, tough and rough, competent, and excellent boss? Chris Kraft, Director of the Manned Spacecraft Center. He was the Vince Lombardi of NASA.

Well, tomorrow the rotted out old oak comes a tumbling down. Nice mixin it up with you boys.

Not one word of advice?

1977 rusted through Skylark is yours boys. Anybody want my 1970 portable record player and 3 heavily scratched albums? Vanilla Fudge, In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida- Iron Butterfly, and 'Fire' by Arthur Brown
 

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