Newscoma

When I was a kid, my mother and grandmother used to tell me that if I said I was bored, then that meant that I was boring. I think, in retrospect, they told me that to shut me the hell up as I was a loud, rambunctious child who had an affection for getting my own way and for being the center of all of the attention allowed in the cosmos.

I’m 44 now and I realized something this afternoon.

I am bored out of my skull. Usually,  I can find things to entertain myself. Watch Hulu, google stupid phrases like zombie turkeys or Chicken Feet recipes (where there are a surprisingly large amount I must say.)

Today, I couldn’t even get into that. I’m bored. Heartwrenchingly, undeniably bored.

I decided to practice Kung Fu with my dog Mabel. I have never studied this time-honored practice but what the hell, I was going to do it anyway. Mabel looked at me as I was kicking around the great room with disgust and then I almost pulled a hammy. So Kung Fu was out.

I then tried to pretend I was a famous singer as I did this when I was roughly 9-year-old and it always brought me out of my doldrums. However, singing Galveston at the top of my lungs could not get me out of my funk.

I thought about trying to con someone into throwing a bonfire as I do love burning me some stuff. Apparently everyone on the known planet is out of town or busy today in Hoots Common. And I’m not allowed to play with matches. Ask Homer.

So, I guess there is this:

When All Else Fails, There Is Ali

I hope some folks have some plans for me tonight as I’m going nuts.